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The One Who Holds The Joker

Tác giả: Disgrace
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Cards mean everything here. If you want rations, you can buy them with a pair of twos. If you want matches, you need a pair of threes. A full house, sevens over tens, lets you conjure fireballs. And four aces give you a second life. How do you get cards? You play fun little challenges using the cards you already have. If you win, you get cards. If you lose, you either lose a part of yourself or your card. A two saves a fingernail while the queen saves a lung. Monsters? What are you talking about? Those are people, just like you. They've simply had to pay. After all, everything has a price, and there are always ways to repay your debts. Don't think about it too much. Do what you can to win, and you could achieve even your wildest wishes. Power and riches come to many here. Even immortality isn't off the table. Doesn't that sound exciting? Please come down to The House of Cards. We will surely enjoy your stay. ... Jack was born in The House of Cards, but he was raised by his father without seeing the horrors this place had to offer. Then one day, his father got a gift. "Happy birthday, Jack! Here's your present, a red Joker card." "Wow! Thanks, Dad!" "Now promise me that you will never lose it. No matter what." And after Jack made that promise, his father disappeared the very next day.

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9 thẻ
Chapter 1What It Means To Be Evil

"Hey boss, I still don't understand why you got that kid. I can only see him as bad news."

"Haha, how many times do I have to tell you? He is the missing piece to our puzzle. Empathy."

"Boss, that doesn't make any sense at all."

"I understand your confusion. But I can assure you, he is growing up splendidly. Just wait a little longer and you will see."

...

A man was running down a dark corridor. He had a bloody bandage wrapped around the side of his head, covering his eye. One of his arms was missing entirely, while his hand was missing three of its fingers.

One of his feet was missing, instead replaced by a broken cinder block tied to his leg.

His panting sounds echoed throughout the chamber, bouncing off the earthen walls. With each step, his feet slammed into the gravel, making loud scratching sounds.

"Fuck... Fuck... Fuck... They can't seriously still be chasing me."

In the darkness behind him, several deep, guttural growls resounded. It wasn't too different from the wails of despair coming from the souls of the damned. After all, hell itself could be considered synonymous with this place.

While running, the man turned his head around nervously.

"What happened?"

He narrowed his eyes, unable to see far into the darkness, but he could hear the steps of the beasts growing further. Although this was unexpected, it was a welcome surprise. He fell down to his knees and put his hand against the wall.

"Thank god."

His eyebrows furrowed soon after though.

"Shit... I need some damn cards. I can't believe I lost so many of them."

He spent a few moments catching his breath before standing back up. He pulled out a concealed dagger from within his clothes. Although he didn't have all his fingers, he was still able to get a firm grip on it, albeit a bit strange looking. A smirk gradually formed on his face as he admired the blade for a few moments.

"Guess there's no other choice. Just gotta hope I get lucky again and find some sheep."

A few gentle footsteps echoed from the distance. In just a moment, a boy appeared. Unlike the mutilated man, the boy was completely unblemished, with a clueless look on his face. A bright smile formed on the man's face in an instant.

In fact, he even burst out in laughter.

"This really is my lucky day! Now come along here little boy and give me all your cards. Unless you want to get stabbed, that is."

Yet, despite being threatened like that, the boy only smiled.

"Ah, get stabbed? That sounds great! Why don't you go for it?"

The man's expression froze. He felt that something was wrong. However, he was already at death's door. At this point, he was pretty sure he had nothing to lose.

"Well, if that's what you want, then that's what you're going to get!"

With a fierce expression and deftness one wouldn't expect from one as mutilated as him, he lunged, aiming straight for the boy's heart. Seeing this, the boy frowned. Before the knife reached him, his hand flashed.

All of a sudden, he was grabbing onto the man's hand.

Although it didn't look like he was straining himself, his grip was incredibly strong. The man's eyes widened all the way, in complete horror. The fingers dug into his skin, ripping his palm apart, causing him to cry out in pain.

The boy's smile fell, while his head tilted to the side strangely.

"Sir. That's not how you stab people. That way just kills them painlessly. It seems that I need to teach you and that it will have to be a long lesson."

The man fell to his knees and trembled as an ugly expression formed on his face.

"Wait, wait, I'm sorry! Please let me go, I don't even have any cards on me, I'm just a waste of your time!"

The boy let out an amicable chuckle as a warm smile formed on his face.

"Waste of time? Guiding lost lambs will never be a waste of my time. Now, let me show you."

For a moment, the man was stunned. He began to think that the boy in front of him was truly intending on helping him despite his mangled hand. However, that opinion began to change when he saw the warm smile on the boy's face gradually widening.

It did not take long for it to reach unrealistic proportions, tearing the skin on the boy's lips and distorting his face. He let go, prompting the man to drop the knife because of his ruined hand. Then, the boy ripped off the bandage on the side of the man's face, revealing an ugly hollow eye socket, with purple bulges clearly showing that it had been infected. The boy let out a sigh while still smiling.

"It is unfortunate that you have already lost one eye, as I prefer students that have two. But no worries, we can always improvise."

Out of seemingly nowhere, the boy pulled out a suitcase. He opened it, revealing the contents.

Eyes.

Countless eyes, all horribly bloodshot. Some of them were deformed, partially caved in, while others looked strangely green. Despite the fact they weren't moving, they seemed to carry life with them, almost like each and every eye came from a person that died with their eyes wide open.

The man whimpered in horror, with his gaze planted on the ground. He could no longer muster the courage to even move. It was now that he realized that the monsters didn't stop chasing him, but rather were running away from something even more terrifying.

"Please... I beg of you... let me go..."

The boy shook his head while taking one of the eyes out between his index finger and thumb.

"Now, now. Learning may be difficult, but that is the student's responsibility. To start, I will introduce myself as your teacher. My name is Jack."

He then burst out in laughter while forcibly implanting the half-rotten eye into the man's eye socket. Somehow or another, the flesh connected with the man, and the nerves melded together. In just a few seconds, his eyesight had been partially restored.

While the man was marveling at this miracle, the boy continued with a finger raised.

"Now, we should begin the lesson. It should be simple enough as there are only two rules. The first rule to teaching is to only take out one of the student's eyes with your own hands. The second is that by the end of the lesson, the student must have lost both their eyes to truly be enlightened."

It was on this day, the man found out he still had something to lose. And far more than he could've ever imagined.

It was, in fact, not his lucky day.

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IN THE EYES OF THE KILLER

The world is bright, even brighter than what I imagined. The first seventeen years were dull, spending all my time touching all things, pretending to be satisfied with the texture of it. Mom whispered, "The world is cruel, it's better for you not to see it." Dad uttered, "Secrets are meant to be secrets. If you heard that "access denied" don't ever cross it." The confrontation lacks weight as they try to intoxicate me with various information as I grow up. Let me ask you, what's essential? Is it your sense of smell, your privilege to hear things, your ability to taste everything, or is it your hands? Ever considered living without your sight, who are you? You define yourself as to what people tell you. You dress yourself the way they wanted too coz after all, it's their satisfaction that matter. You touch things to feel it, hoping your brain can understand what's behind a rough or a fine surface. From the start, you are seeing things differently to what they see for your eyes are their mouth and they only tell lies. Grandma said, "Be contented Lucy. You are denied of something for you are gifted about something. Isn't it fair?" Grandpa said, "You'll realize it as you grow older. You'll realize in time how having no sight is more of a fortune than a disgrace." Until I get older and my egocentric psyche grows with me, holding my hand and even taking over me. I wanted what's theirs, I wanted to have those. Let me have it please. Let me have a chance to see until I regret it. Regret seeing my mother cried in your hands, you cruel beast. You deserve to die. Let her live. Discord server:

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