Well, I wrote a three book series out, and now I'm typing it. So, it's about a kid who gets a deck of cards that he learns he can control, and use.
I would love feedback.
Chapter 1:
The city’s neon lights cast a hypnotizing spell over any onlookers that viewed from afar, whose gaze was able to take in the entire scene, and not just individual signs and advertisements. The spell was of that of both restlessness, and at the same time tranquility.
To those who roamed the streets looking for some cheap food, a bustling night club, or just a taxi home, it was like an intricate puzzle. Each individual piece of neon tubing, or even simply the head or tail lights on a car was its own piece and in order to complete the puzzle, each needed to be taken in and experienced to the fullest. Some can go their entire lives without solving it; the thrill of seeking to complete it is enough. There are the elite, which are few and far between, who have completed the extensive jigsaw. Those who have done such a task are weathered in years, the sands of time passed over their eyes. Their lives elapsed decades, fitting the pieces in one by one until it was finished, creating a complete portrait.
There were the others though who have only seen the box of the puzzle, and are waiting to begin their quest. They have seen the puzzle solved, the city as a whole, and wish to begin their quest as soon as possible.
Two bright, white headlights screamed out of the driveway near the top of a small mountain overlooking Hiroshima. The headlights belonged to a sleek ’91 Chevy Camero; yellow with two black racing stripes. The car was beat up a bit, with an indent right above the front, right side tire. A quick snap of the steering wheel turned the car ninety degrees, even with the start of a winding decline down the mountain.
The car roared to life as it was punched in to second gear, getting up to about thirty-five miles per hour, and showed no signed of slowing down. The headlights passed over a yellow, diamond shaped sign with a squiggling arrow, the sign becoming illuminated just long enough for it to be noticed. The initial right turn came as little surprise, and a quick snap of the wheel right turned the car accordingly. The right front tire moved off of the pavement, and on to a groove composed of dirt and small minerals. Excess debris shot up and out towards the side of the road.
The left turn that followed came with the same amount of ease as the right. A simple twist of the steering wheel, tap on the clutch and a downshift did the trick fairly easily, positioning the car evenly with the road.
The remainder of the trip down the small mountain was nothing more than mediocre difficulty; some wide lefts, sharp rights, but nothing the driver, nor the car couldn’t handle. The passage from the mountain to sea level was marked off with a sign that read:
Ebisu District
A mere fifty yards after the sign was the grand city or Hiroshima, the numerous lights erupting out of buildings and hanging from poles as advertisements. The first piece of the puzzle was put in place.
The main road of Hiroshima was a straight, uniform line down the center of the city. Various side-streets extended off of the main road, but the real action was at the heart of the city, and going down the main road was the only way to get there. As a syllogistic result, the main road was usually the congregation of the cities’ daily and nightly traffic.
The city came upon the Camero all at once; the skyscrapers that seemed to reach the currently gibbous moon, flashing and glowing lights appealing to all onlookers and passerby’s. The faint sound of club music, such as Daft Punk’s hit single ‘One More Time’, could be heard from nearly any point in the city.
An overhead traffic light abruptly changed from a cautious yellow, to a paralyzing red, and the Camero acted accordingly. The brakes were hit hard and the tires squealed as the car stopped a few feet before the intersection and almost directly underneath the light. To the car’s defense, it was trying to beat the yellow light but had to stop short.
The driver took a pause to, without moving his head, look in to the mirror that was fixed in the center of the windshield, just below the roof. He saw his own reflection staring back at him: deep blue eyes, dirty blond hair, and even though it wasn’t visible, he saw charisma and confidence. He saw those qualities, and he only wished he could somehow posses them.
The light changed from red to green and the driver’s eyes moved from the mirror and became transfixed on the road ahead of him. He punched the gas and the tires squealed again, then bolted off through the intersection, as cars were lined up on the roads both left and right, frozen by their own red light. For a split second, he looked to his right, on the other side of the road where the traffic flowed opposite himself, and a neon sign caught his eye.
There was a guardrail that separated the two lanes, and the next legal intersection was a good one hundred feet down the road. The closest option was, while illegal due to a “No U-Turn” sign, another break in the guardrail. That break was about ten yards down and closing very fast. That intersection was only meant for those exiting an establishment on the sides of the road and needed to get on to the correct road.
“Ain’t wasting gas,” the driver said, his voice as cold as the late February night.
Reacting quickly, he hit the clutch and up-shifted then pounded back on the gas pedal. The driver quickly scanned his surroundings. He had a ten car length lead over the Neon yellow Honda Civic behind him and there were currently no vehicles on the road adjacent to him. All of the cars were stuck at their red lights.
Quickly, he took the car and whipped it left, then snapped on the wheel right, tapping on the brakes while doing so. The car spun around, tires pumping out smoke like a forest fire. The Camero hit the gap between the two lanes with authority, and the car spun perfectly in to place equal with the lane.
“Damn straight,” the driver smirked.
The car was still moving when it got out of the u-turn and continued its path as if nothing had ever happened. The driver put on his left blinker out of courtesy, and pulled in to the parking lot of a four store strip mall adorned with flashing lights.
Pulling in to a parking space, the driver turned the key in to the ignition and the motor ceased its activities. While unbuckling his seatbelt, the driver pushed in the parking break and took the keys out of the ignition. He opened the door and stepped out of the car while standing in the umbra of an above streetlight. Slamming the door, the driver turned to look at the four stores in front of him.
He stood a nothing less than meager six foot three, and wore khaki pants with a plain gray hoody; two black strings hung from the neck.
“Hope it’s important,” the driver said as he began walking towards the stores.
The pavement glistened in the moon’s light, wet from the previous snowfall that had come and melted and left a layer of moisture over the city. With each step he took, some of the water would shoot off the ground a few inches, and scatter. When he got to the store he wanted, he stepped up to a glass door. The sign above the door read:
Majik Shop
The words were lit up in cyan colored neon like the Fourth of July, and it buzzed gently. A warm hand touched the colder door which left a faint hand print, and a sharp jingle of a bell signaled that the door was being opened, and the driver walked in.
“What’s up Ry?” a voice called from behind the counter.
“Just here to see you,” the driver responded, approaching the counter.
The store was a simple place and a bit small. There were shelves for various items scattered all over the floor. One of them was for movies, another was for candy, and a third was for children’s plastic toys.
“I got somethin’ for ya,” the guy behind the counter announced.
He had black hair cut in a bowl like shape, and it was fairly short. He lacked glasses and wore a plain tan t-shirt with a thin black shirt-jacket. On the shirt-jacket was a golden name tag with the name ‘Kazuya’ etched in to it.
“What ya got Kaz,” the driver asked.
Kazuya put his hand underneath the counter, and felt around for something. When he grabbed the object, he smiled and put a small box on the counter. The box was wrapped in computer printer paper. A name was written in red sharpie; the name was ‘Ryan’.
“What…..what’s this?”
“I found it at a gas station,” Kazuya said. “I thought you might like ‘em.”
“All right,” Ryan answered, almost reluctantly.
He picked up the box, and it had a weight not proportional to its size; it was heavier than expected.
“Well, open it,” Kazuya pushed.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m gettin’ there.”
Ryan found where the paper was all connected, which was at the back of the box held together by a piece of tape. Casually, he ripped it off and the unwrapping ensued. Inside the package was what appeared to be a deck of cards.
“Cards?” Ryan asked.
Kazuya nodded:
“Yep. I heard you mention you wanted to learn card tricks last week. Well, I figured I’d start you off.”
Ryan smiled, and then chuckled slightly.
“Well, thank you.”
“Damn right. Cost me like four ‘ollars.”
“Big spender there.”
Ryan eyed the box carefully. It was wrapped in cellophane and had an intricate design displayed. The word ‘Myriad’ was displayed across the bottom front of the box in bold, black lettering chained together and it was surrounded by a white background that extended only as far as the letters were high and wide. The remainder of the box was flat black with random white ‘wisps’ like that of the wind. All in all, it was a very cool looking box design.
“Cool lookin’ box,” Ryan admitted.
“Yeah, I know.”
“So….you got any tricks yet?” Ryan asked.
“Me?” Kazuya asked, surprised.
“Oh yeah. I mean, I always see you with a deck of cards in your backpack at school.”
“Nah, I don’t do those. Strictly Blackjack here. I’m in it for the dough stacks.”
“Dough stacks? What are you?”
“Makin’ money, that’s what I am.”
“Mhm, sure,” Ryan answered, a sarcastic tone in his voice.
“I should be asking you the same thing,” Kazuya said.
Ryan shrugged to his left, and closed his left eye.
“I’ve been workin’ on something, yeah.”
“All right, lesse it,” Kazuya encouraged.
“Ah, I dunno. You should be takin’ care of customers,” Ryan suggested weakly, his confidence already falling.
Kazuya looked at Ryan flatly and then said:
“Do you notice that there are none?”
“All right then, just hang on. ‘Member, I’m trying to learn this.”
“Of course.”
Ryan unwrapped the cellophane and threw it on the counter. He held the box in his hands for a few seconds then opened the top, and slid the cards out in to the grasp of his right hand. He dropped the box on to the counter along with its casing of cellophane. Ryan fanned the cards in his hands, quickly noting the uniqueness of them.
“Well……this is……interesting,” Ryan said confused.
“Hm?”
“Look, they’re holofoil,” Ryan explained, “And on the back, they are see through. These are insane!”
“Whoa, lemme see!” Kazuya exclaimed.
Kazuya grabbed a card from the fanned deck, and examined both sides. In sheer disbelief, he performed the action eight or nine times before accepting it true.
“Holy shi’, these things are crazy!” Kazuya yelled, adding emphasis on the word ‘crazy’.
“You’re telling my bro, these are sick.”
Kazuya gave a wide-eyed nod and proceeded to allow Ryan to perform some sort of trick.
“And now, if you would please,” Kazuya began.
“Yeah, right….let’s see if this’ll work,” Ryan said in a worried tone.
Ryan took the cards and put them in a pile in his hands. He shuffled them rigorously then fanned them face down. There were three circles on the backs of the cards, two in opposite corners and one large on in the center, to conceal the cards’ information. The rest of the cards’ backs were completely translucent.
“Pick your card,” Ryan instructed.
As if trying to figure out the solution to a complex algebraic equation, Kazyua thought out his card choice carefully. After a few short seconds of pondering, he finally settled on one near the top of the fan.
“Okay, look at it, but don’t tell me what it is,” Ryan ordered.
Kazuya nodded in agreement.
“You got it?” Ryan asked.
Again, Kazuya nodded.
“Now, take it and put it back in to the deck please.”
Kazuya followed Ryan’s instructions and then prepared himself for the trick that was to come.
“Okay, let’s see if this will work,” Ryan said while shuffling the deck thoroughly.
“Trust me, I ain’t expecting much.”
Ryan cut the deck a few times then shuffled again, losing the card within the depths of the deck and other fifty one cards.
“Now, tell me your card,” Ryan said.
“Um, Four of Spades,” Kazuya revealed.
“All right, watch,” Ryan said.
Ryan fanned the cards in one hand quickly then closed it. He then cut the cards once and set them on the table.
“Hm?” Kazuya asked.
“Take the top card off the deck,” Ryan instructed.
Kazuya obeyed and performed the requested action with real curiosity.
“This is the King of Hearts,” Kazuya informed.
Ryan’s hearts sank, but decided to go with it, and see what would happen.
“Okay, now put it back on top of the deck and snap your fingers.”
Kazuya’s face looked confused and tilted his head according. He performed the action and then looked back at Ryan.
“Now what?”
“Watch carefully,” Ryan said with a simle.
Ryan grabbed the top card on the deck, and flipped it over, revealing the Four of Spades.
“Son of a……,” Kazuya gasped, wide-eyed.
Ryan, on the outside, looked calm as an ocean, but on the inside was as surprised as Kazuya.
I would love feedback.
Chapter 1:
The city’s neon lights cast a hypnotizing spell over any onlookers that viewed from afar, whose gaze was able to take in the entire scene, and not just individual signs and advertisements. The spell was of that of both restlessness, and at the same time tranquility.
To those who roamed the streets looking for some cheap food, a bustling night club, or just a taxi home, it was like an intricate puzzle. Each individual piece of neon tubing, or even simply the head or tail lights on a car was its own piece and in order to complete the puzzle, each needed to be taken in and experienced to the fullest. Some can go their entire lives without solving it; the thrill of seeking to complete it is enough. There are the elite, which are few and far between, who have completed the extensive jigsaw. Those who have done such a task are weathered in years, the sands of time passed over their eyes. Their lives elapsed decades, fitting the pieces in one by one until it was finished, creating a complete portrait.
There were the others though who have only seen the box of the puzzle, and are waiting to begin their quest. They have seen the puzzle solved, the city as a whole, and wish to begin their quest as soon as possible.
Two bright, white headlights screamed out of the driveway near the top of a small mountain overlooking Hiroshima. The headlights belonged to a sleek ’91 Chevy Camero; yellow with two black racing stripes. The car was beat up a bit, with an indent right above the front, right side tire. A quick snap of the steering wheel turned the car ninety degrees, even with the start of a winding decline down the mountain.
The car roared to life as it was punched in to second gear, getting up to about thirty-five miles per hour, and showed no signed of slowing down. The headlights passed over a yellow, diamond shaped sign with a squiggling arrow, the sign becoming illuminated just long enough for it to be noticed. The initial right turn came as little surprise, and a quick snap of the wheel right turned the car accordingly. The right front tire moved off of the pavement, and on to a groove composed of dirt and small minerals. Excess debris shot up and out towards the side of the road.
The left turn that followed came with the same amount of ease as the right. A simple twist of the steering wheel, tap on the clutch and a downshift did the trick fairly easily, positioning the car evenly with the road.
The remainder of the trip down the small mountain was nothing more than mediocre difficulty; some wide lefts, sharp rights, but nothing the driver, nor the car couldn’t handle. The passage from the mountain to sea level was marked off with a sign that read:
Ebisu District
A mere fifty yards after the sign was the grand city or Hiroshima, the numerous lights erupting out of buildings and hanging from poles as advertisements. The first piece of the puzzle was put in place.
The main road of Hiroshima was a straight, uniform line down the center of the city. Various side-streets extended off of the main road, but the real action was at the heart of the city, and going down the main road was the only way to get there. As a syllogistic result, the main road was usually the congregation of the cities’ daily and nightly traffic.
The city came upon the Camero all at once; the skyscrapers that seemed to reach the currently gibbous moon, flashing and glowing lights appealing to all onlookers and passerby’s. The faint sound of club music, such as Daft Punk’s hit single ‘One More Time’, could be heard from nearly any point in the city.
An overhead traffic light abruptly changed from a cautious yellow, to a paralyzing red, and the Camero acted accordingly. The brakes were hit hard and the tires squealed as the car stopped a few feet before the intersection and almost directly underneath the light. To the car’s defense, it was trying to beat the yellow light but had to stop short.
The driver took a pause to, without moving his head, look in to the mirror that was fixed in the center of the windshield, just below the roof. He saw his own reflection staring back at him: deep blue eyes, dirty blond hair, and even though it wasn’t visible, he saw charisma and confidence. He saw those qualities, and he only wished he could somehow posses them.
The light changed from red to green and the driver’s eyes moved from the mirror and became transfixed on the road ahead of him. He punched the gas and the tires squealed again, then bolted off through the intersection, as cars were lined up on the roads both left and right, frozen by their own red light. For a split second, he looked to his right, on the other side of the road where the traffic flowed opposite himself, and a neon sign caught his eye.
There was a guardrail that separated the two lanes, and the next legal intersection was a good one hundred feet down the road. The closest option was, while illegal due to a “No U-Turn” sign, another break in the guardrail. That break was about ten yards down and closing very fast. That intersection was only meant for those exiting an establishment on the sides of the road and needed to get on to the correct road.
“Ain’t wasting gas,” the driver said, his voice as cold as the late February night.
Reacting quickly, he hit the clutch and up-shifted then pounded back on the gas pedal. The driver quickly scanned his surroundings. He had a ten car length lead over the Neon yellow Honda Civic behind him and there were currently no vehicles on the road adjacent to him. All of the cars were stuck at their red lights.
Quickly, he took the car and whipped it left, then snapped on the wheel right, tapping on the brakes while doing so. The car spun around, tires pumping out smoke like a forest fire. The Camero hit the gap between the two lanes with authority, and the car spun perfectly in to place equal with the lane.
“Damn straight,” the driver smirked.
The car was still moving when it got out of the u-turn and continued its path as if nothing had ever happened. The driver put on his left blinker out of courtesy, and pulled in to the parking lot of a four store strip mall adorned with flashing lights.
Pulling in to a parking space, the driver turned the key in to the ignition and the motor ceased its activities. While unbuckling his seatbelt, the driver pushed in the parking break and took the keys out of the ignition. He opened the door and stepped out of the car while standing in the umbra of an above streetlight. Slamming the door, the driver turned to look at the four stores in front of him.
He stood a nothing less than meager six foot three, and wore khaki pants with a plain gray hoody; two black strings hung from the neck.
“Hope it’s important,” the driver said as he began walking towards the stores.
The pavement glistened in the moon’s light, wet from the previous snowfall that had come and melted and left a layer of moisture over the city. With each step he took, some of the water would shoot off the ground a few inches, and scatter. When he got to the store he wanted, he stepped up to a glass door. The sign above the door read:
Majik Shop
The words were lit up in cyan colored neon like the Fourth of July, and it buzzed gently. A warm hand touched the colder door which left a faint hand print, and a sharp jingle of a bell signaled that the door was being opened, and the driver walked in.
“What’s up Ry?” a voice called from behind the counter.
“Just here to see you,” the driver responded, approaching the counter.
The store was a simple place and a bit small. There were shelves for various items scattered all over the floor. One of them was for movies, another was for candy, and a third was for children’s plastic toys.
“I got somethin’ for ya,” the guy behind the counter announced.
He had black hair cut in a bowl like shape, and it was fairly short. He lacked glasses and wore a plain tan t-shirt with a thin black shirt-jacket. On the shirt-jacket was a golden name tag with the name ‘Kazuya’ etched in to it.
“What ya got Kaz,” the driver asked.
Kazuya put his hand underneath the counter, and felt around for something. When he grabbed the object, he smiled and put a small box on the counter. The box was wrapped in computer printer paper. A name was written in red sharpie; the name was ‘Ryan’.
“What…..what’s this?”
“I found it at a gas station,” Kazuya said. “I thought you might like ‘em.”
“All right,” Ryan answered, almost reluctantly.
He picked up the box, and it had a weight not proportional to its size; it was heavier than expected.
“Well, open it,” Kazuya pushed.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m gettin’ there.”
Ryan found where the paper was all connected, which was at the back of the box held together by a piece of tape. Casually, he ripped it off and the unwrapping ensued. Inside the package was what appeared to be a deck of cards.
“Cards?” Ryan asked.
Kazuya nodded:
“Yep. I heard you mention you wanted to learn card tricks last week. Well, I figured I’d start you off.”
Ryan smiled, and then chuckled slightly.
“Well, thank you.”
“Damn right. Cost me like four ‘ollars.”
“Big spender there.”
Ryan eyed the box carefully. It was wrapped in cellophane and had an intricate design displayed. The word ‘Myriad’ was displayed across the bottom front of the box in bold, black lettering chained together and it was surrounded by a white background that extended only as far as the letters were high and wide. The remainder of the box was flat black with random white ‘wisps’ like that of the wind. All in all, it was a very cool looking box design.
“Cool lookin’ box,” Ryan admitted.
“Yeah, I know.”
“So….you got any tricks yet?” Ryan asked.
“Me?” Kazuya asked, surprised.
“Oh yeah. I mean, I always see you with a deck of cards in your backpack at school.”
“Nah, I don’t do those. Strictly Blackjack here. I’m in it for the dough stacks.”
“Dough stacks? What are you?”
“Makin’ money, that’s what I am.”
“Mhm, sure,” Ryan answered, a sarcastic tone in his voice.
“I should be asking you the same thing,” Kazuya said.
Ryan shrugged to his left, and closed his left eye.
“I’ve been workin’ on something, yeah.”
“All right, lesse it,” Kazuya encouraged.
“Ah, I dunno. You should be takin’ care of customers,” Ryan suggested weakly, his confidence already falling.
Kazuya looked at Ryan flatly and then said:
“Do you notice that there are none?”
“All right then, just hang on. ‘Member, I’m trying to learn this.”
“Of course.”
Ryan unwrapped the cellophane and threw it on the counter. He held the box in his hands for a few seconds then opened the top, and slid the cards out in to the grasp of his right hand. He dropped the box on to the counter along with its casing of cellophane. Ryan fanned the cards in his hands, quickly noting the uniqueness of them.
“Well……this is……interesting,” Ryan said confused.
“Hm?”
“Look, they’re holofoil,” Ryan explained, “And on the back, they are see through. These are insane!”
“Whoa, lemme see!” Kazuya exclaimed.
Kazuya grabbed a card from the fanned deck, and examined both sides. In sheer disbelief, he performed the action eight or nine times before accepting it true.
“Holy shi’, these things are crazy!” Kazuya yelled, adding emphasis on the word ‘crazy’.
“You’re telling my bro, these are sick.”
Kazuya gave a wide-eyed nod and proceeded to allow Ryan to perform some sort of trick.
“And now, if you would please,” Kazuya began.
“Yeah, right….let’s see if this’ll work,” Ryan said in a worried tone.
Ryan took the cards and put them in a pile in his hands. He shuffled them rigorously then fanned them face down. There were three circles on the backs of the cards, two in opposite corners and one large on in the center, to conceal the cards’ information. The rest of the cards’ backs were completely translucent.
“Pick your card,” Ryan instructed.
As if trying to figure out the solution to a complex algebraic equation, Kazyua thought out his card choice carefully. After a few short seconds of pondering, he finally settled on one near the top of the fan.
“Okay, look at it, but don’t tell me what it is,” Ryan ordered.
Kazuya nodded in agreement.
“You got it?” Ryan asked.
Again, Kazuya nodded.
“Now, take it and put it back in to the deck please.”
Kazuya followed Ryan’s instructions and then prepared himself for the trick that was to come.
“Okay, let’s see if this will work,” Ryan said while shuffling the deck thoroughly.
“Trust me, I ain’t expecting much.”
Ryan cut the deck a few times then shuffled again, losing the card within the depths of the deck and other fifty one cards.
“Now, tell me your card,” Ryan said.
“Um, Four of Spades,” Kazuya revealed.
“All right, watch,” Ryan said.
Ryan fanned the cards in one hand quickly then closed it. He then cut the cards once and set them on the table.
“Hm?” Kazuya asked.
“Take the top card off the deck,” Ryan instructed.
Kazuya obeyed and performed the requested action with real curiosity.
“This is the King of Hearts,” Kazuya informed.
Ryan’s hearts sank, but decided to go with it, and see what would happen.
“Okay, now put it back on top of the deck and snap your fingers.”
Kazuya’s face looked confused and tilted his head according. He performed the action and then looked back at Ryan.
“Now what?”
“Watch carefully,” Ryan said with a simle.
Ryan grabbed the top card on the deck, and flipped it over, revealing the Four of Spades.
“Son of a……,” Kazuya gasped, wide-eyed.
Ryan, on the outside, looked calm as an ocean, but on the inside was as surprised as Kazuya.
