The Poker Murders

Prologue

          The nightmare working in the mind, drowning into the sea of blood where all the dead people floating with soaked gore all over their body; accidents, murders, killed soldiers... The venom piercing in the body, the veins turning into black struggling to survive... Crashing through the mirrors and falling into the place, the place where there is no one, nothing; everywhere only dark, alone in the dark...

The bulky blanket pushed off and Mort Smith's sweaty face rose with his silver-black hair and Handlebar moustache, scratching his sweat-dripping frowned forehead and sighing heavily. He set his legs on the plank floor, having a sitting pose on the bedside, panting and palpitating then got off the bed, stepped in front of the hotel window and commenced to take some deep breaths.

Peering out the glass, admiring the fantasy of nature, he decided to go for the park to soothe down and stress out and the head filled with a cram-full lot of nightmares, illusions.

He put on his Covert coat and top hat along with his walking stick then here he went off to the park.

...

He strolled down the thin path of the park and hunkered down the bench, removing his hat and placing it on his knees. He big opened his red-rimmed eyes and contemplated nature for a minute or two, the cooling air pouring on his face, his short hair swaying, other people passing on the path.

Suddenly one of them moved out of the waddling huddled group and perched down on the same bench where Mort was occupying. He had an oblong-shaped face with a slicked-back wavy and slightly curly hair and a light beard.

   "Life changed, gendarme, Mort Smith," he said to the looking-away guy.

Mort turned and looked at the man with his uptight forehead with a buzzkill, "H-- How on earth do you know_ _." he said, bewildered.

The man had an oblong-shaped face along with a fauxhawk hair and light beard.

   "Never mind. I'm Blake, Blake Edward." resumed Blake, moving his hand forward to shake hands but Mort declined it then Blake lowered it, "I-- err a detective." he paused for a moment, "Living a boring life, isn't it."

   "Yeah," he replied morosely, his head lessened downwards.

   "Wanna join me, a detective who must be often accompanied by an assistant, Mort, a person like you?. I have been bemoaning myself for a companion to help me," stated Blake, his palm re-forth to shake hands.

   "You funny kidding me... along with you, sorry but_ why me, there are other people out there. You can't merely see me suit in.

   "We could be roommates though, good offer." Blake grinned, "Think of yourself then talk. Cause' people don't exchange lives but change lives."

Mort gave a small smile, this time accepting it and shook hands together.

   "Gonna make this life change again."