Jack of Spades

One brisk November evening a security guard, Alvin, clocked in for the hundredth time at the hospital. The shift started at 11 o'clock, and he was glad to get out of the cold night air and into the building. Before leaving for work that night, he had watched the evening news cast...now he wished he hadn't. The top story that night had been about a serial killer who had left the whole city on edge...and three doctors in the morgue. All three murders had occurred in the past three days, and all of them were at different medical facilities around the city. The hospital that Alvin worked at was attached to a professional building that also housed doctor's offices, labs, and a large pharmacy. The news story that night had disturbed Alvin, but more than that was the video from the security cameras at all three locations. "The images you are about to see may be disturbing to some viewers. Young children should leave the room." "Young children," Alvin though, "never mind young children!" Watching the film, one could see the doctors working late at their desks. In the shadows something would stealthily sneak up behind them. The screen went black because it was too graphic to show on national television, but one's imagination could fill in what happened next. The screen came back on to show the close-up of a masked face, showing only his hard, black eyes and maniacal smile. In the background the slumped over figure of the doctor was barely visible, and obviously dead. Then the masked man held something up to the camera...a Jack of Spades. He reached up and taped it on the lens. "Alvin!" He jumped as his supervisor shouted his name. "Ah...yeah?" "Ha ha ha! What's the matter...a little jumpy tonight?" His boss was a good natured man with a jolly laugh and even jollier stomach. "Yeah...it's just...something I saw..." Alvin strapped the can of mace to his belt. "Sorry to get you started right into your shift like this, but I saw some weird shadows in the pharmacy just now. I think the night janitor may have left the door unlocked." "Yeah?" said Alvin, recalling the shadows in the security video. "I'll go check it out."

Alvin tested his radio, "10-97." "10-2" came the response. His Mag-lite hung loosely at his side and he kept the pouch that held his mace unbuttoned. His finger reached out as he touched the button for the elevator. "Why does it always take so long?" he thought to himself as he waited for it to rise. The door opened and he jumped, reaching for his flashlight. "Sorry to frighten you," smiled the janitor, "I just finished cleaning the pharmacy...weird place at night, that. Always a sound or a movement in the shadows!" he laughed like a senile old man that had no worries. "Yeah, tell me about it," muttered Alvin. A light sweat began on his forehead. "Man, its warm in here tonight," he thought to himself. He stepped into the elevator and pressed 'G'. Slowly, it made its way from the 8th floor to the 7th, then to the 6th, and then the 5th. Passing the 5th floor the elevator gave a slight shutter and the lights flickered. "900, come in." Nothing. "900, do you copy?" There was a hint of panic, an edge to Alvin's voice as he spoke. Still, nothing. The 4th floor went by. "Oh well, I'm sure its fine. Just a power surge. The lines from the elevator are interfering with the radio signal, that's all." As floors 3 and 2 went by Alvin became more and more frantic, imagining the black eyes of the murderer staring back at him when the doors opened. Finally he was at the ground level. The doors crept cautiously open and Alvin shone his light into the darkness. With every pass of his light, shadows climbed up the walls and flew across the ceiling. "It's all in my mind; it’s all in my mind!" Alvin reassured himself. A noise in the back storage room made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. He went into the room and methodically checked every aisle. "No one in here," he remarked out loud to himself. He saw nothing in the back office, so he went into the adjacent janitorial closet. As soon as he was inside, the door slammed shut. He twirled around just in time to see a figure pass in front of the little glass cutout in the door. "Who's out there?! Who's out there?!" Now he was in full panic mode. His stomach rose in his throat and squeezed out his breath. Adrenaline pumped and blood rushed to his head. He tried the handle. It was locked. He grabbed the key ring from his side and his fingers stumbled through each key. First floor key, second floor, pharmacy, closet. His hand shook as he guided the key in the dark towards the handle. The keys slipped from his grasp and hit the floor with a clang. He kicked the door and it gave out. Running in the dark through the office, his foot caught the edge of a filing cabinet and he staggered to one knee, ripping his pants. He kept on running as blood trickled down his leg--but that was the last thing on his mind. His eyes were adjusting to the darkness now, so he was able to navigate the aisles at full speed. The only thing between him and the elevator door was a display of mouthwash. He knocked it over, and mouthwash splashed all over the floor. He stepped on one of the bottles and his foot slipped out from under him. His chin hit the floor with a thud, and blood gushed, mixing with the minty liquid that had already formed a puddle. He got up and threw himself at the elevator button, breaking his finger as he did it. “Garrrrgh!” He screamed in pain and grasped his hand. The doors opened. “Hello, my name is Jack.”

Alvin woke up in a hospital room two hours later. The blood had stopped gushing from his chin, and he felt a bandage on his forehead, evidently covering a gash that he suffered when he fainted. There was one nurse in the room busily setting out bandages and arranging bottles of pain meds. The doctor stood, his back to the bed, getting ready a hypodermic needle. Alvin flashed back to before he fainted. The doors opened and there stood a man dressed in all black. He had on a ski mask that covered all of his features…all except his eyes and mouth. That was all that Alvin needed to recognize him, however. The masked man’s beady black eyes pierced his own and sent shivers up and down his spine. His smile, so purposeful, so evil, gave him the distinct urge to vomit. Then, he spoke. “Hello, my name is Jack.” “Hello, my name is Jack, Hello, my name is Jack, Hello, my name is Jack!” Alvin screamed, getting progressively louder. He repeated it over and over as he grasped his face, ripping at his bandage and hair, remembering the sheer terror that coursed through his body and caused him to faint. The nurse ran over to his bed and two more came in from the hallway. They grabbed his arms and legs and strapped them to the bed, telling him that it would be ok. The doctor turned his head to acknowledge the commotion, but then went back to his work. Once he had calmed down, the nurses left the room, promising to come back in a few hours. The doctor slowly turned and made his way over to Alvin’s bed. His amiable smile and deep eyes looked slightly familiar. He held up the needle, “Hello, my name is Dr. Jack Spade.”