The light turned green.  Cars passed by at speeds that would make most people dizzy.  The sun glinted off their sleek metal exteriors in a dazzling array of color.  The city was crowded; a fact was made all the more obvious during rush hour.  Pedestrians practically lined the sidewalks as cars and trucks made their way through the labyrinth of roads.  They were not bothered by the traffic.  Many of them had lived in this place their whole lives.  One such person was waiting by the corner.

 

            The light turned red.  A white ‘walk’ sigh flashed on and the people started walking across the street.  There weren’t many crossing this intersection.  Among the few was a tall man in a business suit sped across with long strides.  An older lady shuffled her way across behind him.  In between them strode a young woman.  Her name was Sheila Relen and she was 23.  She had grown up in this city and was used to its ways. 

 

            The light June breeze that had been blowing coolly all day picked up, making Sheila’s tawny blond hair sway gently.  She gripped the bag on her shoulder tightly and tried to pick up her speed and get across the road.  Something wasn’t right, but she didn’t know what.  A blaring horn suddenly alerted her to what her mind had been wary of.

 

            She jerked her head to the side quickly and the sight before her made her freeze.  A large truck was coming dangerously close.  It was already well past the light and still the wheels rolled on.  The horn sounded again and dimly she heard people shouting, but she could not bring her legs to move.  She shut her eyes tightly.  She heard people screaming and her own piercing shout joined them without her consent as she waited for the crash that she knew would claim her life.

 

            Seconds ticked by like hours and yet the bone crunching impact did not come.  The world around her was silent and she wondered for a second if she had somehow gone deaf.  Cautiously, she opened her eyes.  The massive truck still loomed in front of her, its dingy metal and cracked windshield gleaming like the teeth of some great predator, but it was still and silent. 

 

            Through the glaring glass she could make out the driver.  It was a man, significantly older than her, and he looked like he was shouting.  His face was frozen in horror, his hands gripping the wheel as if it was the only thing keeping him alive.  Sheila turned her head from side to side.  The tall man she’d been following across was frozen in mid-step.  It looked like he’d been running in her direction.  The old woman that had been behind her was on the pavement, her bag still hanging in mid air as if waiting for some unseen cue to join its owner on the street.  This woman’s face was like the driver’s; frozen in a terrified scream. 

 

            Sheila shook her head in disbelief.  This couldn’t be happening.  There was no way, no possible way that it could be true, but it seemed that time had stopped.  A bright light began to shine from behind her.  She forced her legs to move and shakily turned, clutching her bag like a lifeline.  The light had no source and yet there it was, an oval of shimmering white in the middle of the halted chaos.  Her eyes widened as she saw a shadow began to form in the middle of the light.  It seemed to be coming towards her.

 

            She tried to move away, but soon found her back pressed against the front of the truck.  The shadow, as it moved slowly forward, began to take shape.  It was a person, or at least it seemed to be.  They walked towards her with clam, slow steps.  One arm swung casually at their side while the other was up and seemed to be holding onto a wide brimmed hat.  Sheila struggled to find her voice.

 

“W-who are you?”

 

            The figure did not answer or even slow its pace.  The white light slowly receded and the person in front of her became fully visible.  It was a woman that seemed to be around Sheila’s own height.  She had short black hair, longer on one side than the other. Her eyes were hidden by the large brim of a black hat that she held in place with slender fingers.  A blood red band encircled the top of it and one side of the brim was pierced by three silver rings.  The rest of her attire was just as strange as the hat.

 

            She was dressed in a white, sleeveless, button down shirt and black pants that covered the tops of her black leather boots.  Black suspenders adorned her un-tucked shirt and a red tie with a black symbol that Sheila was sure she’d seen before hung in front of most of the shirt’s buttons.  Around each bicep was a black strap with a red seven and around her throat was a matching band.  Over her forearms were black arm covers which were open in the front and held together with crisscrossing black laces.  Dangling from one ear was a peculiar looking dice on a long chain.

 

“A-a-are you d-death?” Sheila asked, unable to keep the fearful tremor out of her voice.

 

            The woman’s mouth twisted upwards in a smirking grin and she lifted her head.  Her eyes were a deep, consuming black yet the very edge of the irises seemed to flicker with a crimson red.  Sheila wanted to scream.

 

“Well,” the stranger said in a chillingly playful voice, “that depends on you, now doesn’t it?”

 

            She walked forward a few more paces until she was right in front of the blond.  She crossed her arms deliberately and stared directly into terrified brown eyes.  The woman looked, to Sheila, like a predator ready for the kill.

 

“You have to choose your own path.”

 

“W-what do you m-mean?”

 

            The woman’s smirk grew a little wider as she moved one hand in between herself and the frightened blond.  A deck of cards that Sheila was sure had not been there before was held loosely in her pale fingers, their backs ordained with a complex design of red loops and twists.  They spread out, as if on their own, to form a perfect fan of cards.  Sheila stared at them for a moment before again looking into the chilling black eyes that seemed to consume her soul.  Then the woman’s voice rang clear and sharp in her ears.

 

“Pick a card.”

 

            Sheila’s mind was racing.  She did not want to play this sadistic game, but somehow she knew that there was no choice.  She slowly reached out a shaking hand, inching towards the cards spread out in front of her.  Her eyes locked on the crimson twists of one card and her trembling fingers came to rest on it.  Carefully, she pulled it from the stranger’s loose grip.

 

            She held it there for a few moments, afraid of what it may mean.  After what seemed like an eternity she slowly turned it over.  A large black symbol greeted her eyes.  Recognition slowly set in.  It was the symbol on the strange woman’s tie.  A spade, she realized.  Teary brown eyes glanced to the edge of the pristine white card.  There she found a black ‘A’.  The stranger gave a light, airy laugh. 

 

“The ace of spades.”

 

            Hesitantly, Sheila took her eyes off the card in her hand.  The woman was still grinning, but the smile seemed less sinister now.  The deck was gone and the hand that had held it was stretched out towards her in what looked like a gesture of friendship.

 

“You, my dear, are one of the chosen.  Don’t worry about a thing, you’re coming with me.”

 

            A loud crash and what seemed to be a thousand screams assaulted her.  She whirled around to find herself staring into her own brown eyes.  Shiela’s body was stretched out before her, half crushed beneath the massive front wheals of the truck.  People rushed around her, most of them screaming and crying.  The man in the business suit and the driver from the truck were kneeling beside her body.

 

“What is this, w-what’s happening?”

 

“You’re dead, my dear.”

 

            Tears streamed down her eyes and she turned to the stranger once more.  She had not moved and her hand was still stretched out in a silent promise to take her away from all this.  Sheila thought she could see a flicker of sadness in those dark eyes.

 

“You’re only a spirit now, they can not see not hear you.”

 

“Who are you?  Please, tell me.”

 

            Black eyes closed for a moment, as if in thought, before opening once more.

 

“I am Spade.”

 

            Encouraged by the simple answer, Sheila steadied her voice once more.

 

“Why are you here?”

 

“I am here to judge you.  I am an agent of Fate.  All of the choices you make in life determine what will happen to you in death and guide you to your final decision.  Yours was the ace of spades, my card.  You are one of the chosen.”

 

“What does that mean?”

 

“You will see in time.  Come.  We must go.”

 

            Sheila wavered where she stood, her eyes flickering to the world around her.

 

“There is nothing left for you here.”

 

            She wanted to yell, to shout to this strange being that this world was her home and yet she knew that it could not be that any longer.  She was dead.  The finality of it was setting in.  For all her strangeness, this woman spoke the truth.  Screwing her eyes shut, Sheila reached out and grasped Spade’s hand.

 

            The world faded away around them.