A cough was what got Rose's attention. She looked up from the papers on her desk to see a tall redheaded man staring down at her.
"And you would be…?"
"Stanfield." The man looked distinctly uncomfortable. "Claire Stanfield."
"Stanfield." She repeated. "You are aware the carnival's closed, right?"
"I, uh…" Claire nervously scratched his neck "I actually work here. I'm an acrobat."
She leaned back, "Is that so? In that case, what brings you here?"
Claire opened his mouth, then closed it, and motioned towards the chair on the other side of her desk. She nodded and he took a seat.
"I was wondering if you could give me my fortune."
Rose didn't answer, instead choosing to study the man sitting in front of her.
After a minute, Claire began to fidget, "Miss?"
"Sorry." She said. "It's just… well, frankly, you seem to be my only colleague who doesn't consider me to be a lucky hack."
He shrugged. "My father was a superstitious man. I guess he passed it along."
She nodded. After a moment of deliberation, Rose reached into her desk and withdrew a tarot deck. She held them out to him, "Shuffle these."
He took them and awkwardly did as she had told him.
When he finished, he held them out to her. Rose shook her head. "Place them on my desk and cut them. Think about your future while you do it."
"Alright." He set the cards down and cut them.
"Now take six cards, and place them all to your right."
"To my right?" He cocked an eyebrow.
"Correct." She said. "Normally you place the six across. The two to your left represent your past. The two in the middle, your present. And the two on your right, the future." She motioned to ghost cards placed across the desk. "But most people usually have specific questions. You, on the other hand, wish for only knowledge of the future."
He nodded, though a confused gleam still shone from his eyes.
When he had finished, she reached for his hand. He pulled his hand back "Eh, Miss?"
She sighed, "I need to have contact with you to get a clear reading on the meaning of the card."
"Oh, okay." He reached forward and clasped her outstretched hand.
With her free hand, Rose flipped over the card closest to her.
Claire glanced at it and studied at the priestess flanked by two pillars.
"The Papess." Rose closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "For you, increased knowledge. Very esoteric things. Very esoteric."
Opening her eyes, she reached over and flipped the next card. A woman wearing a dress and sitting on a pile of pillows greeted them.
"The Empress." She repeated her previous post-card flipping action. "A Marriage. Children. It will be… unexpected."
"Unexpected?" He inquired.
"The proposal will be unexpected." She said.
"But how?"
"I do not know." She gave him a sharp look.
They matched steely gazes until Claire looked away.
Without comment, Rose reached for the next card. She turned it over to reveal a skeleton wearing black armor. "Death. But… not for you. Never for you."
"Not for me…?" Claire's head jerked back. "What—?"
Rose cut him off. "I do not know specifics. Stop asking for them."
His jaw clenched, and he offered no apology.
Another card. The pair was once again greeted by an armor-clad skeleton.
"Death?" Rose stared at it, a bewildered expression on her face.
Claire shifted uncomfortably, "Is that… bad?"
"Impossible…" She murmured to herself.
"Miss?"
"Death." She said. "You are a carrier."
"Carrier?"
She ignored him, and flipped another card.
"Is that another death card?" Claire frowned.
Rose stared at the tarot card, wide eyed. She slowly cranked her head up to look at him. "Death." She said. Her voice sounded as parched as a woman dying of dehydration.
"Is this unusu—?"
"Those around you. They will become death." Her grip on his hand tightened painfully.
"Ah!" He attempted to pull it back. "Lady—!"
But she didn't hear him. Her eyes had gained a wild gleam. As she looked upon the final card, a black smoke began rising from it. She moved her hand toward the tarot card. Pulsating waves of death washed over her, and in that moment, she knew. The final card promised damnation. It promised the truth.
"Truth." She murmured.
Claire had stopped struggling. Instead watching the woman in front of him. The woman with a tight grip on his hand and a crazed look in her eye.
"Truth." She repeated, placing her hand on top on the tarot card. "The gunslinger is the truth. The speaking demon is the truth. The way station is the truth." She looked at him, no, into him, he realized. "New York is the truth. The train is the truth." And then, she stopped, and looked unseeingly at her desk. Her free hand clutched the card as she began to mumble "Choo-choo" over and over again. Rose drew it toward herself. Her complexion grew increasingly pallid as it came closer.
"Choo-choo. Choo-choo. Choo-choo. Choo-choo. CHOO-CHOO. CHOO-CHOO. CHOO-CHOO. CHOO-CHOO."
She drew the card off of the table and held it against her breast. "This card will damn me." She whispered. "And that is the truth."
Claire watched, too shocked to do anything. The hand holding the card was shaking, her breathing close to hyperventilation, and her heartbeat erratic.
Slowly, Rose peeled her hand away from her heaving breast; vaguely aware her seat and pants had grown warm and wet.
The card revealed
"Death."
And then she saw it.
Rose let go of Claire's hand.
"Miss—?"
Then she stood up and grabbed his collar, pulling them both over her desk.
"Felix." Her speech was slightly slurred, and drops of blood were flung outward as she spoke.
"Fel—? You bit your tongue! You need help!" He grabbed her arms, "Let go! I need to get you hel—!"
"SHUT UP." The force in her words froze him.
"Lady—!"
"Listen to me!" More blood droplets covered his face.
He stared.
The fire in her eyes died as they both rolled to the back of her head, "The train is the truth! Your truth! Silence is your truth! "
Her grip loosened and she raised her arms to grasp the back of his neck. "Strength is your truth. Mercy is your truth. And death," Her pupils reappeared. "Death is your ultimate truth."
With that, she pulled his head toward hers and smashed their lips together. Claire was too surprised to react until she forced her tongue into his mouth. He brought his hands up and placed them firmly on her soft chest, then pushed as hard as he could. Rose was sent flying back into her chair.
"Eugh," He ran his tongue across his arm, trying to get rid of the coppery taste of her blood and the bits of what he suspected to be vomit.
Choking noises brought his attention back to the crazy woman. She appeared to be convulsing as bloody vomit poured out of her hanging head.
"Lady!" He ran around her desk. Kneeling by her side to help, he paused and stared at her, realizing he had no idea what to do. Claire glanced back at the opening of the small tent they were in, wondering if he should run to get help. He was about to stand when he felt a weak grip on his arm. Turning his head, Claire saw the woman struggling to raise her head.
"Miss, it's gonna be alright. I just need to get help—"
"It's too late." She spat onto the ground. Rolling her head around to look at him, tears fell to her stained blouse. "Save me. Please."
He cradled her head, "I will, I promise. I'll be back with help in a jiffy."
"No!" She growled at him, forcing her head up. As she lowered it back into his arms, she repeated it softly, "No. Kill me."
"Wha—!?"
"KILL ME! I don't wish to know anymore! The skeleton! No, that man, that man in black! He has shown me the truth! The man in black that fled through the desert! The one that the gunslinger followed! He has shown me the beyond!" She hiccupped, barely able to contain her sobbing and speak coherently.
She drew a deep breath and snaked her free hand around his neck. Pulling her head up, she touched their foreheads and stared into his eyes.
"Death. But never for you."
She took one final troubled breath, and then went limp.
And that is the truth.
