"It is the key to my soul." -Oscar Wilde
I would recommend to listen to Rasputin by Majestic and Boney M.
It was the stranger's first time visiting Las Mortis. There were many alike him; people who wanted to feel the drill of gambling, of designer drugs and richness. People who didn't necessarily have their lives together and who use their addiction as a way to cope and run away from all of their problems.
And what better place would there be than Las Mortis, they said. The Empire of Addiction, the city that drew only one kind of people to itself, yet they were all different; all of them telling another story.
The stranger was not disappointed, Las Mortis really was a drunk-dazed dream, he realized as he rode through the huge entrance. His horse got all nervous because of all the odd creatures trotting, running and woddling through the lively city.
"Good night, Sir. May I take your horse to the barn?" A young man clothed in black trousers and a linen shirt with a pin of the city's signature approached the stranger. He only nodded and headed to the reception of the local hotel.
The lady behind the counter didn't question him as he slid a paper with his name and some numbers on it across, they were used to weirdos and strange people, obviously. He put his belongings in his room, room number 137 and went to the biggest hall of the main building. The large room was filled with poker tables and tensed people. Much money was lost here every day, he knew it, but he had something a little bit more worth which he wanted to gamble with since he was tired of gambling with money.
He knew the kind of people here and he knew to find the craziest of them to accompany in their game. As he was told earlier, today night at one of the tables at the very back, would play the head of Las Mortis.
And he wanted to play against him.
The stranger headed across the hall, inconspicuously inspecting the hall made of dark oak wood with subtle golden applications and decorations and the red carpet covering the entire floor. Probably so nobody sees any blood, he thought.
Before he could get too much into judging the players and gamblers, he spotted him. The very Mortis Azrael Knox, usually known as Mortis A. Knox, but the stranger had information and connections far beyond the usual.
The stranger approached him and bowed in front of the most powerful man in the city.
"You must be the Man of no Voice." Mister Knox assumed, the stranger nodded and sat down at the already almost full table.
"The bets, please." A young lady in revealing clothes spoke in a suggestive voice, the stranger was already annoyed by her.
As he had expected, nobody bet money; on the green table laid cards made of gold, a cage with a cat with glistering wings, a jar filled with a whiskey-coloured liquid in which floated a beating heart, a collection of different kinds of poisons and acids, and a blood-stained sword. The stranger himself moved a small bottle with a clear liquid in front of himself. The note tied to it said invincibility. He gestured that he would explain it to the winner.
As if anyone here could win against me.
When the game started, he instantly knew he was going to win, his cards were more than amazing. Still, he kept his quite literal poker-face. Knocking twice on the table when he was done with his turn, the stranger got more and more confident, silently cackling at the others. After the first round, two of them had already given up, throwing their cards on the table and hands in the air. Drinks were downed and as the game proceeded, the group of people around the table grew together with the stranger's nervousness.
It was only Mister Knox and him now, drinking, thinking and continuing until the long-awaited card reveal. None of them wanted to go first, both of them wanted to entertain the show. Only as the young lady started to get impatient, the players laid their cards open and the stranger could not believe it.
"You're really good." Mister Knox said, looking at the stranger's straight flush. "But not good enough." He had a royal flush.
Even with one of the best hands he had ever had, he had lost. He had gifted and cursed at the same time, a person with immortality.
He had made somebody become a god.
Mister Knox leaned forwards and smirked "It was a pleasure to play with you."
But the stranger didn't like to lose, so he took Mister Knox's ace and wrote:
You too, Azrael.
Mister Knox's face turned white for a second but he quickly got it together.
"Before you leave Las Mortis, come to my suite and explain the liquid to me, will you?" He smiled calmly. The stranger gave a nod and stood up, leaving the room in awe. He had lost.
-
The stranger had left a note at the soon-to-be god's suite explaining what deal he had put himself into.
Dear Mister Knox,
Congratulations on your win, you deserved it.
Still, you will put yourself in a lot of trouble if you use my part of the price. I believe you live a very dangerous life; this potion would make it a bit safer.
As you are probably one of the best poker players, this potion would also make you even better at it.
Short version, if you drink this potion, you will become invincible, you can only die from age and you will be able to use a power that will let you win every card game.
Your name will be Mortis Azrael Knox, the God of Cards.
Yours sincerely,
The Man of no Voice
After that, he had taken his horse from the barn and had done his best to get the hell out of that place full with weird creatures, liars, losers and winners.
