"Have you ever heard of The Jacks?", a woman with a child asked; the question directed towards the child. "Mommy, please, I'll be a good girl. Don't let The Jacks take me." The child made a sad, pouty face. "Of course, if you're a good girl, they won't come for you. Don't do anything that would make Mommy angry again, kay?"
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The Jacks. Who are they?
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Giovanni stood at the centre of his room. He was looking for something, and for easy locating, he decided to stand at the centre. Giovanni, 16, Italian, pale skin and a thin body. Eyes sharp, lips small, nose pointed—he had all the features of a handsome European male. "Giovanni! Where are you? I only told you to get me the parasol from the attic. Where are you?"
Shit. I forgot about the parasol. But where's my phone? I swear I left it somewhere easy to remember.
"I'm coming down now. No need to shout anymore, Giulia." He ran out of the room. Upstairs then to the attic.
Where the fck is the parasol. Why leave it here if it was still in perfect condition? Always make me run unpleasant errands.
He scrambled around for some time—moving boxes, moving items, et cetera.
Here it is
"Giovanni! Do you think I have the time to wait? Come with the parasol now!" The shout came from downstairs.
That fcking bitch, making me run this errand. I haven't even found my phone.
"I've found it. I'm coming down now." He rushed down, forgetting to arrange things the way they were—more accurately, ignoring them—because he knew his step-mother would not take it lightly.
He ran, past his room, towards the staircase that leads downstairs. Running down the stairs. Then...
Crack.
Ankle busted.
Fwoop.
Parasol opened.
Thud—Slash.
The tip of the parasol went through his neck, his body collapsed on the stairway.
Glurp.
Swallowing saliva was extremely painful now. Bubbling noises.
I can't believe I'm going to die with cursing my step-mom the last thing on my mind.
"Giovanni?" His step-mother now stood over his body. "Non, ho una figlio! Don't die now!!" She said as she tapped his body, no response.
Her face was now clearly teary. "I'll call the ambulance now. Don't leave me and your papa..."
Too late. I think I'm already...going. Giovanni put some mental fortitude—almost all that was left of him. At least, she could cry over me, for once...
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The Jacks? They are legendary figures in this kingdom. You sure you aren't new to this side?...
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Where am I? Giovanni woke up to a hammering headache. He lay naked atop a metal table, the cold of the metal giving him goosebumps. He sat up. The table was... very wet?
The f*ck?
The place evidently stank, flies buzzing everywhere. The stench of rotten flesh, feces, and iron thick blood. Dark. The place was very dark, hard to even quantify. Almost as if you could feel it, you could touch it.
Giovanni instinctively reached for his neck, the sharp pain of his death still lingered, although he currently felt like he could lose his mind for real.
No injuries?
He peed himself. Giovanni never fared well with the dark. He focused less on asking how he was still breathing, with no injury to boot and more on how to get out. He tapped around. He touched something solid, opaque. It had a wooden and metallic body. Slim metal, almost perpendicular to the wooden part—it was a revolver. He began to cry. He tapped further. He touched something very cold. But it had the feeling of a human skin.
But how come? He asked as he could pick it up. He needed no one to tell him it was a body part.
He fell on the floor, on all fours and began to vomit. He had had enough of the smell and gore. And confusion. And pain. He just wanted to disappear at that point.
"What did I tell you about cleaning up the torture chamber?" a deep voice came from outside the room. "What? I didn't hear." a second one too. "Well, now you've heard it from me, get to work. Unless you want to be the one the others would clean up."
"But of course. I'm getting to that."
The sounds of metal—turning, rotating, hitting— were heard. Then finally keys clanking and a click. Light poured in, it disoriented Giovanni. It was as if he hadn't seen the light of day in forever.
"Gosh. Back to this stinking shit hole...Huh? Come over here." the second, lighter voice called out to the first. "Whatever is the problem?" the first asked. "How is his body on the floor?" "Well, Bobby, how am I suppose to know? Maybe Lord Cromwell left him on the floor when he was done?" "No, not possible. I was around the last time this place was used; it was left on the table." Sure, whatever you say. Start with that body. Carry it out..." The sound of dragging concrete grated Giovanni's ears. "...with the wheelbarrow, through this passage." With the mention of 'passage', Giovanni turned a little. He looked up from facing face first to the ground. His eyes had not yet adjusted, but he could figure out body parts—some suspended by chains, some on shelves, everywhere.
No wonder it stank.
He turned again and met the stares of the two men. The first, bossy one with a nice build; easy to identify him from his voice. The other; Bobby as they called him, fat as a pig was the right way to describe him. "He...he...he just moved!" Bobby exclaimed. "I saw that." the other said. He wasn't smiling. He picked up the revolver from the table and walked over to Giovanni. "I just have to finish him off. He looks like he's suffered enough."
Giovanni tried to talk, to tell them that he didn't want to die. But the words wouldn't come out.
Bam
Blood oozed from Giovanni's skull. "Well, he's dead for sure now." He said as he dropped the revolver back. "What's the problem? He asked Bobby who still looked shocked. "The problem is that he..he was supposed to be dead. I..I...I saw Master Cromwell shoot him on the forehead." Bobby stammered. "Sure. He's dead, for sure this time. Now get to work."
In the wheelbarrow, Giovanni surprisingly still had his consciousness, although it was gone for some moment—probably between the headshot and then. Body parts stuffed to fit the barrow with him still inside. He fainted, lost consciousness again. Probably due to blood loss. He was even about to complain, this was the umpteenth time.
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The Jacks. They are the legendary knights that stood unrivaled for decades...until they rebelled. They killed the king then in an attempt of a coup d'état, but were defeated by the remaining Order of the Decks...
Why did they?
They wielded power that could decimate kingdoms, were given special privileges, yet they decided to turn their backs on our kingdom. No explicit reason.
Where are they now?
Only the heavens can tell.
Who then were they?
They're the Jacks! You didn't hear me? Khaladore, the Jack of Spade. Ui, the Jack of Club. Giorgio, the Jack of Hearts and Vertemorde, the Jack of Diamond. They're traitors with a decade-old bounty of an enormous quantity of gold coins on their heads. They are...