The Game
It was dark, in the immediate distance. A bright white light illuminated overhead, I could feel it’s heat like a naked bulb. In front of me was a small round card table, the top covered in green felt, the stem made of polished dark cherry wood.
I reached out and glanced at my hand. Perfectly oval, bright red nails extended from long, slender fingers. Fingers that reached out like spider legs from a open ended, ruffled trimmed fingerless glove. The glove itself was some sort of dark grey denim, with a machine sewn seam perfectly centered on the back of my hand. A white ruffled eyelet lace protruded from the top, and the wrist. I turned my hand over to glance at the palm. The ruffled lace was machine sewn into a white cotton liner on either end. The grey denim had dark grommets, with a black satin ribbon crisscrossing over the liner. It was tied in a neat bow near my heart line.
My black hair fell to the side of my face into my peripheral vision, it was cut short just below the ears. The hair fell straight yet looked like humidity had caused minor frizz.
I glanced down at the corseted top I wore. It matched my gloves with the exception of the midriff part made of black leather. The dark gray denim fit tight and kept my posture straight and perfect. I could feel the bottom of it near the sacral chakra and the top just above the heart chakra. The white shirt came up over my cleavage and covered it, white ruffled eyelet lace trimmed it almost like a ViVi collar. The sleeves ran down my arm and reached just to the inside of the gloves, but they were cuffed with a single white plastic button.
Then a light came on across the room and to the left. There sat a man behind a table identical to mine. He had a thin oval face, his cheeks slightly sunk in giving him a ghoulish, ghastly aura. Smooth, thin white hair fell limp and lifeless under a black top hat sporting a light grey band. A thin long scarlet feather behind a single normal sized playing card, you could only see the blue designed back of, were tucked into the band on the left side.
He wore what looked like a black formal dinner jacket, over a light gray vest with black buttons. His white undershirt bore the same eyelet lace as mine, only his sat high upon his neck. I tried to see his eyes, but they were shadowed by the brim of his hat. He wore black leather gloves, though they only extended past his long bony knuckles so only a third of his fingers actually showed.
There was no background, there was no floor or ceiling. There was nothing but darkness, and the two of us.