Rachel walked down the hospital hallway. She growled to herself; Chase Campbell had struck again, in the worst possible way. How dare he force her to forfeit a match! She scowled darkly. She'd make him pay... But she had more important things to worry about. Reaching an intersection in the corridor, Rachel turned left. She was almost there, and she knew what she'd see: Michael, lying wrapped in bandages, unable to hear or see or feel... And it was all her fault... Her footsteps faltered for a moment, then continued. No, she couldn't afford to think about that. She made her last turn and saw someone leaning against a door near the end of the hall -- Michael's room. She increased her pace, trying to fight down the uneasiness that was rising from the pit of her stomach through her chest and up to her throat. It was Katsuya, but that didn't put Rachel at ease. He was pale and trembling; in his hands, he held his ever-present Walkman, right index finger hovering over the play button. "Katsuya!" Rachel cried as she ran the last few feet. He looked up at her with wide eyes, his breathing heavy and unsteady. Rachel swallowed. "What's wrong?" she asked more quietly. The Japanese male stepped away from the door and pulled it open. Rachel hesitated for a moment, then stepped in. If he didn't want to talk, it was fine with her. Rachel blinked as wind blew her hair into her eyes. With a scowl, she flipped the offending colored bangs away from her face. She should see about getting her hair cut sometime-- Wait a minute. Wind? Almost against her will, Rachel's eyes snapped into focus, looking out the shattered window directly ahead of her and into the beautiful, sunny day outside. "No," she whispered, eyes traveling to the hospital cot, hoping to see the familiar expected sight... Tangled sheets and discarded bandages lay where the body once was. "No!" She ran to the window, dimly hearing glass crack beneath her feet. Putting her hands to the edges of the glass, she scanned the ground below. Rare Seattle sunlight glistened off the glass and blood scattered in the grass. "Michael!" Rachel screamed into the world, only vaguely aware of the glass penetrating her hands and the tears filling her eyes. "Michael!" * * * * * High Stakes Created by NeoVid Starring Rachel Miller and Abe Katsuya Chapter fourteen: Go Fish Written by Ardweden * * * * * "Damn," a quiet voice murmured. Rachel whirled to see Katsuya standing a scant few feet away from her. "K- Katsuya!" Rachel wiped her wet cheeks with the back of her hand. He stepped the short distance to the window and looked down. "Two stories is a pretty long way down." "Did you see him?" Katsuya looked to his side. Rachel stared at him with an almost haunted expression. Her hands grasped his shirt. "Without the bandages. Did you?" He wordlessly nodded. "What did... what did he look like?" "He had scabs. Open cuts, too, on his face. Like he was trying to claw his eyes out..." Katsuya's eyes widened in realization. Rachel sighed and seemed to crumple into herself. She let go of Katsuya, smearing his perfectly good shirt with blood. "Mierda," she cursed under her breath. There was silence, Katsuya simply watching Rachel, until she turned her face back up to his. "I didn't see him jump," Katsuya said, answering the unasked question. The Goth nodded, a few tears wetting her cheeks. Then her eyes hardened. "Let's go." She turned away. Katsuya blinked in surprise. "Where?" "We're going to find him." She stepped out into the hall. Katsuya started to follow, then stopped. He could still hear it. The maddening laughter bouncing off the corners of the room and deep, deep into his skull... He shuddered and almost sprinted out the room, shutting the door behind him. * * * * * Jinsaku almost smiled as he felt the gentle breeze brush his face. He had needed this, he decided, as he looked out at the calm ocean. Getting away from it all: his enemies, his friends, his problems... it was like a dream come true. Especially with everything that had happened. Sighing, he turned and leaned back against the railing. His money was going to run out soon. He frowned slightly. Then he'd have to go back, and knowing his luck, this would probably be the last vacation he would get for a long time. He really wasn't in any hurry to leave, though he wanted to know how was everyone back in Seattle. Katsuya and Jinsaku hadn’t parted ways since they left Japan together, nor had Jinsaku separated from Tyrell since they met in America. And then there was that one girl, he couldn’t quite remember her name, but she had shown a Minion to someone, a non-Player, and... Children began to laugh nearby. He turned towards the sound, grateful for the interruption. Three kids were sitting on the deck of the ship, concentrating on something in the middle of their rough circle. Curious, Jinsaku approached them. One of the kids picked up an object from the center and held it up. As Jinsaku neared them, he could make out its shape. Rectangular, thin... He froze. The kid giggled and set it on the floor, pulling another from the pile next to him and putting it on top of that. "I have four pairs!" The one to his right grinned and clapped, while the other pouted and folded her arms. Jinsaku sighed with relief, then berated himself. It was just a normal playing card. Really, he was getting too worked up about this. Small children didn't have Cards. They were just playing a simple game. And, from the looks of things, they were having... fun. He shook his head and turned back to the sea. Why did he start playing the Game, anyway? For his own amusement. Jinsaku laughed bitterly. Yes, he found the Cards tucked away in a library bookshelf one day, and just had to pick them up. Then the luck started, and he won his first match. Such power, such a rush. He had thought it was the greatest thing in the world. But it wasn't. No, he found himself being pushed by events he couldn't hope to control, his fate outside of the game almost completely determined by Player's luck. And the only thing he lived for day to day was the Game, the challenges, which he found himself despising more and more. Not to mention what happened to Katsuya and that other guy... Jinsaku shuddered and pulled his small deck of Cards from his pants pocket, shuffling them like anyone would a normal deck of playing cards. And circumstances forced him back to the Game time and time again... Jinsaku blinked. The Player's luck, nudging events this way and that. It couldn't be coincidence. He scowled. All this time -- the Cards, the Minions, the Game -- all this time, he existed for *its* amusement, not the other way around. The mess with Katsuya, Annette's near death, and his rivalry with Campbell? The Game wanted it that way. He was sure of it. He flipped over the top Card and stared at it. Shade, his first Minion. The one he showed to Katsuya, the one he won his first battle with, the one who... had cut off Campbell's hand. How many people walked away from the Game, anyway? None that Jinsaku knew of; it seemed that when someone became a Player, there was no going back. One step, then another, then a third, and Jinsaku found himself once again at the edge of the cruise ship. He held the Card over the water, his arm outstretched. "I hate you," he whispered fiercely. "I hate all of you." The picture's eyes burned into his own, and there was whispering in the back of his mind. It would be so easy. Just drop Shade into the water, then the next Minion, then the next, until they were all gone and he wouldn't have to worry about it anymore... Vision fading, Jinsaku reeled forward and clutched the railing. He shook his head, waiting for it to return. Maybe it was something he’d eaten... no. No, no, no... with wide-eyed horror Jinsaku looked at his deck of Cards. He'd been challenged. Player's luck struck again. Jinsaku swore and stuck Shade back into his deck, pocketing it and storming towards his room. He could almost hear Shade laughing at him. * * * * * Rachel squinted through the rain, struggling to follow the dissolving crimson trail. She cursed under her breath. "Hmm?" asked a voice next to her. "Why did it have to rain now, of all times?" Rachel snapped, keeping her eyes glued to the ground. "Well, this is Seattle. And it hasn't rained in a long time," Katsuya said quietly. "I know, compadre. I grew up here, remember?" Rachel shook her head. "I just still don't see- ow!" She pushed the elderly woman aside, almost knocking her over. "Watch where you're going!" The woman stumbled for a bit, then whirled on the two, cane held high. "Well, I never! I'll have you know, Missy, that this is a free city and you children don't rule the streets!" She eyed the girl before her, noting the colored hair, the incredibly pale skin, the heavy makeup, and the black clothing. "And in my day, we were much more respectful of our elders." Rachel snorted. "Piss off, abuela. I have work to do." "Well, I never!" the woman repeated. "Just you wait, young lady. There's more to life than hanging out on street corners and having a good time." Rachel gaped as the old woman hobbled off, muttering about kids these days. "That could have been handled better. You did push her, you know," Katsuya began. "She called me a prostitute." "I'm sorry?" Rachel glared at Katsuya. "I said, 'she called me a prostitute'! Do I look like a prostitute to you?" "Er..." Katsuya looked Rachel over, noting her style of dress and the cold, light drizzle that covered her in water. He coughed into his hand and averted his eyes. "Don't we have to find Michael?" "That's right. Shit." Rachel looked to the ground, noting the all but completely faded trail of blood before her. "I think he went this way. Come on," she ordered as she sprinted off into the rain. Katsuya shook his head, then followed. They ran, dodging the traffic and pedestrians of downtown Seattle. Katsuya struggled to keep up with a very determined Rachel, who managed to frighten just about everybody they came across. Finally, Rachel stopped. "Why- why'd we stop?" Katsuya asked as he gasped for breath. Rachel simply stared ahead. "Look." He did. They were in a seedy part of town: a narrow alley between apartment buildings filled with wet, molding garbage. Katsuya gagged as the fumes hit him. "There's no trail," Rachel continued, her voice disturbingly quiet. "It's all been washed away." "I... I don't know, Rachel. Maybe--" She screamed and lashed out, kicking garbage, the wall, anything nearby. "Damnit, Katsuya, we were so close! We were!" Rachel sunk to her knees, cursing in Spanish. "It's all my fault. If I hadn’t gotten sidetracked by that woman, if I hadn’t shown him Carnivale in the first place..." Katsuya winced. "Come on. The trail pointed that way, right? Maybe we can still find him," he said as he placed a hand on her shoulder. "Yeah." Rachel got to her feet. "Yeah, you're right." She took a shaky breath, then continued down the alley. Katsuya walked after her, carefully avoiding the garbage that littered the alley. They were almost out when he heard it again. The insane, screeching laughter. Katsuya winced. "Did you hear that?" "Hear what?" Rachel turned back to see Katsuya leaning against the wall, his hands tangled in his wet, straggly hair in an effort to cover his ears. "Katsuya?" He grimaced. "The laughing. Do you hear it?" "No," Rachel replied. "I don't. Are you okay?" Katsuya looked at Rachel, fear etched on his face. She was watching him, worried. Weighing his options, Katsuya closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. Slowly, very slowly, he lowered his trembling hands from his ears and opened his eyes again. "I'm fine. It's gone now." It took all the effort he could muster to avoid turning his Walkman on. "All right." Rachel stepped out the alley, motioning for him to follow. Glancing at the alley one last time, Katsuya trembled. He had lied; the laughter was still there, the horrible laughter, drilling itself into his brain. But it faded as he walked, and was gone by the time they turned onto the next street. A pair of wild eyes watched them leave, a giggle escaping the owner's lips. "Gone, gone. The skull, it's gone," Michael murmured from his perch on the fire escape. He laughed as he pulled his arm across the sharp, cheap metal of the railing, scraping himself. "All gone." * * * * * Tyrell stared at the ceiling. It was a very nice ceiling, really. He’d been watching it all day. He hadn’t felt like getting out of bed that morning, and it had seemed like a nice day for reflection, anyway. He’d idly considered going to Denny’s and visiting Annette, but had decided against it. He hadn’t wanted to impose, and her boss had chewed her out last time he had shown up. And now it was raining. He *really* didn’t want to go out into the rain. With a sigh, Tyrell rolled onto his side, offering him a lovely view of the picture resting on the chair nearby. Running into Talia like that... it was bizarre. And why did she paint him as a Player Card? What was she planning? "Earth, water, blood," Tyrell murmured, reading the bottom of the picture. When was his last challenge, anyway? He remembered -- it was when he had met Annette, and he'd lost a Minion to keep her alive. He frowned and sat up, going over the Minions he had lost and gained since he'd started playing the Game. One more loss and... Tyrell clenched the covers. One more loss and he'd be down to his last Card. And if he lost that Minion, then... then he'd become a Card. He studied the picture. The Tyrell on the cardboard was watching him, smiling at him, an inviting, eager smile. He shook his head. That was ridiculous. Pictures didn't actively look or smile at people -- they couldn't. He looked at the picture for a bit longer, carefully avoiding its face, then stood and turned it face down. Maybe a walk would do him some good. Even if it was in the rain. * * * * * Author's Notes: Whee, but that took a long time to write. Between finals and Real Life and a whole bunch of other stuff, I couldn't really get into the right mindset to write. But now... ah, now! It is done. And hopefully an enjoyable chapter, if my shortest one yet. ^_^ Many Thanks go to Ravi and John for prereading and DESTROYING those evil evil nasty type tense errors that I love creating so much. Also, thanks go to them and Ilmater for keeping me amused while I was writing this. :P As usual, comments and stuff will be happily received at ardweden@netscape.net And now, just to show you what I meant when I said, "keeping me amused", it's omake time! * OMAKE * John Evans: He can think about his feelings for Annette... Ardweden: I could have him sitting in the hotel room, maybe looking out at the rain. Indicate that he considered going to Denny's and seeing Annette that day, but decided against it... John Evans: He's not sure if he wants to get into a relationship with her if one or both of them may be turned into Cards soon? ^_^ Ardweden: ^_^ Ardweden: Love in Cardland! Wai! ^_^ John Evans: That'd be rather tragic, wouldn't it? "I had a great boyfriend..." "What happened to him?" (pulls out Tyrell card) "He's right here! WAAAAAH!!!" * OMAKE * Ravi: "Earth, water, blood," Tyrell murmured, reading the bottom of the Card. "Earth, Wind, Fire," Tyrell murmured, reading the bottom of the album sleeve. How had that damn woman known his secret shame? His love for bad seventies fusion r&b... He frowned. She had to be stopped. * OMAKE * Ardweden stares at her monitor. "I'm doomed." Ilmater, who was twirling around in the swivel chair next to her, stops and looks at Ardweden curiously. "Why's that?" "I'm never gonna finish High Stakes 14. Probably a good thing, since I suck anyway, and I poison every impro I touch. Not only that, but I'm a total waste of space in Real Life. I think I'll go jump off a cliff." It should be noted that a fluorescent sign saying, "Standard ImproAuthor Moping Speech" is going off above her head. "Oh. That's too bad." Ilmater gets up and walks off, returning with a blender. "Hey, Ardweden..." "What?" Ardweden looks up at Ilmater. "Would you mind suicide for a good cause? Since you're going to jump off a cliff anyway." "Uh..." "Great!" Ilmater pushes Ardweden into the blender, turning it on puree. After about five minutes, he pours the result into a glass, and takes a drink. "Wai! Strawberry flavored!" Sitting down at the computer, he stretches. "I feel my writing skills renewed!" He proceeds to type out the rest of chapter fourteen. 100% ImproAuthor. Coming to a grocery store near you. Now in chocolate, strawberry, and original flavors. * * * * * If anyone... *anyone* takes that last clip seriously, I will hunt them down and beat them senseless. Got that? Good. ^_^