Ash on the cards

(Fragment from Chance's Memory - A Flashback)

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[Chance] POV:

It smells of smoke.

Not the good, heavy cigar smoke -but the acrid, sharp haze of something that shouldn't have been burning.

I'm sitting at a table.Or was I just standing?

The world is swaying.Chairs shimmer. Walls dance. Voices blend into a mush of sound.

And somewhere in between - him.

A shadow in a suit and tie.With a glow in his gaze that makes my heart freeze in my chest.He's talking. I barely hear him.Only individual words stick in my mind:

"...stay calm, Chance...""...you messed up...""...don't disappear again."

Chance.

The name reverberates through my skull like an echo that won't fade away.

I gasp for air.Suddenly a card falls to the table in front of me -Ace of Spades. Bloody. Burned.

I try to stand up, but my legs give way.Everything becomes heavy. My head is pounding.

"Say something, damn it!"

His voice - now loud, now ragged.He's kneeling over me. Holding me tight. His hands are red. Or mine?

I don't know where my body ends and the memory begins.

And then - the shot.

Bright. Glaring.And everything goes silent.

I fall -into myself.Or deeper.

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[Present]

My eyes widen.

I'm standing somewhere in the rain.The wall of an alleyway behind me. My fingers are cramping as if they've just lost something.

Or someone.

What was that?Was that... me?

I feel for the fabric of my coat.Cold. Wet. Real.

But deep inside, that smoke still burns.And the sound of "Chance" echoes in my head like a curse.

I don't know if it's me.

But I know someone once called me that-in a voice that was angry, yet too vulnerable to be a lie.

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To be continued...