Please Note: This chapter has been revised and reuploaded.

Chapter 1: Into the Darkness

It was dark in the closet. Dark and very, very cramped.

Under normal circumstances Matthew may not have minded the environment. In fact, he had made a habit over the years to seek out similar spaces to escape from the noise and emptiness of the world. Often Matthew could be found on midnight strolls on the narrow path around the lake near the castle; or ducking out of suffocating, drawn-out meetings to visit the musty, compact library in town. The spaces tended to remind him of simpler times living in a small cottage with his grandmother when he and his brother would huddle close under their blankets at night to reminisce about their daily adventures. That lovely, simpler time before they got older. Before they were brought to the Spade capital to serve as the next generation of rulers. Before everything became so, so messy.

Messy, like the current situation Matthew found himself in; hiding in an effort to prolong his inevitable execution. He had known when he had chosen the space that it would not be an ideal hiding space, but he had exhausted both his stamina and his alternative options. Still, perhaps he should have tried harder to find a better place to make his last stand. The space around him felt like it was closing in as Matthew felt his breath begin to pick up. He remembered his battle training drills from when he was young on how to stay calm, losing his cool now would do him no favors. But the current situation made even the most reasonable rational useless as a cloak of darkness and paranoia enveloped the young man. He felt as his body was attacked by needles of anxiety and anticipation for what he knew was coming, death.

At least I don't fear dying, Matthew realized with a start, not internalizing how true the words were until his end was so imminent. He wasn't sure if his lack of care for his own wellbeing was somewhat concerning or not, but for the moment Matthew was grateful to have one less thing to worry about. No, rather than himself, his thoughts were far to preoccupied with worries about what would happen after he died.

By virtue of his position as Ace of Spades Matthew had traveled around much of the Continent of Domino. He knew better than most that the shaky peace between the four kingdoms was a powder keg one small match away from blowing up in everyone's face. He thought of his brother, Alfred, the King of Spades. He was a good King but growing up as a poor boy in the countryside before realizing his birthright as King left him at a disadvantage with the established nobility and military. Without Matthew's help would he be able to bring everyone together to face the conflict on the horizon? What of the bossy Queen Arthur and uptight Jack Yao? Matthew doubted they would even realize his passing, much less mourn him out of anything except obligation, but still he did not want any harm to come to them because he failed in his role as Ace.

I've rested enough, maybe I should start running again.

Before hastily fleeing his inn room, Matthew had written a letter to his brother to reveal what he had learned on his most recent mission. He knew there wasn't a chance of the note reaching anyone in time for reinforcements to arrive, but the longer he drew this cat-and-mouse game out the less time his assailant had to intercept the note after finishing with him.

Matthew resolved to keep moving until his legs gave out and moved to open the closet door that had been confining him to his internal dark torment. However, before he could be granted the relief of opening the door his body froze. On the other side of the door was a large, spacious bedroom lit only by the crackling lit wood in the fireplace. In his hiding spot, Matthew only had the sound of the burning fire to accompany his thought, but now a new sound could be heard echoing off the walls of the adjoining room.

Footsteps. The footsteps of a man trying to neither be discreet or fast. The footsteps of his would-be assassin. Matthew figured this would be a good time for any fear he held to increase exponentially, but instead felt the bubbling of irritation begin to rise up in him. Did this man think so little of him that he felt no need to be quiet in his approach? Or was he so cruel that he wanted Matthew to hear every step as his death grew closer?

The steps finally came to a halt in front of Matthew. For a brief moment the young man was grateful for the door he had previously been cursing for serving as a final barrier. Then, in a flash, it too was gone, its place replaced by a man appearing roughly the same height and age as Matthew himself. However, that was where any similarities between the Ace and the being that haunted children's nightmares ended.

His clothes seemed common enough in design -a pair of good fitting pants, tall boots, and a jacket- what was abnormal was that they were all black rather than a variation of one of the four nations colors as was traditionally worn. Yet the clothing irregularity paled in comparison to the long-pointed tail that extended from the man's back that the clothing failed to cover. The tail paired appropriately with the short black horns that jutted out on both sides of his head. They served as a stark contrast to the disheveled white hair that surrounded them. Finally, Matthew met his eyes dreading what he would find there. Blood Red. The last shred of hope Matthew had that he had mistaken the man's identity earlier in the night was crushed. There was no longer any use in denying that the man sent to kill him was none other than Gilbert, High Joker of Domino.

Matthew watched the Joker's face give way to a cruel smile as he accessed Matthew in return. This was a one-sided match that he had no hope in winning and they both knew it. As the Ace, Matthew was expected to train his mind and body to be Spade Kingdoms greatest warrior and first line of defense against any opponent. Under regular circumstances, Matthew thought he achieved in this role rather nicely always completing his missions and never losing a fight when it can't be avoided. Yet, he doubted any of those accomplishments would aid him much in this fight. After all, while not much is known about Jokers, the lore and rumors generally agree on a few key facts. Jokers wield unlimited power handed down from the gods, their loyalties shift with the wind, and their fury was like a raging storm.

"Oh my, look at what we have here." The Jokers voice carried a hint of humor in it, as if finding the situation not the least out of the ordinary. "A little birdie cooped up like this? Why is it the most beautiful things are always getting locked away?"

Wait, What? Matthew felt his eyes widen slightly in shock which he suspected was not lost on his opponent whose own unnatural grin seemed to widen he had received word that a death contract had been signed for his life, he expected at best he would receive a quick death and at worst he would succumb after hours of torment. But this? Was that supposed to be a compliment? No, it can't be. There's no way he would try to truly flirt with someone he never met before and plans on killing before the night is done. The only explanation is that he's just toying with me!

The Ace could once again feel the bubbles of irritation rising accompanied by a rare feeling he recognized as anger. This was like before! Flashes of long nights danced through Matthews mind, followed by cruel eyes looking down at him in distain and pity.

"Truly Matthew, you? You think I could- that I ever would be tempted to settle for someone like you? You are nothing but a toy- "

Words of the past echoed in Matthews ears and propelled his body forward. He wasn't sure what his assassin was trying to play at but frankly he didn't much care to find out. Even if this was already a lost battle, he refused to spend his last moments being used as a toy for someone else's entertainment. No, never again.

For his part, the Joker had the decency to look shocked as Matthews body collided with his, forcing both of them to quickly scramble for balance. Matthew got his bearings first and moved again to strike his opponents face. Unfortunately, any benefit of surprise had already been lost, and as Matthew's fist was about to make contact his arm was caught at the wrist. Matthew braced himself for the incoming impact of a weapon, but instead found himself once again colliding with the firm chest of the Joker.

"Now, birdy, as fun as this has been, you've wasted enough time already when don't you think it's time to stop fighting against me? If you continue like this, I might get the wrong idea that you don't appreciate my awesome attention, and you wouldn't want that, now would you?" The Joker mused as an ominous grin once again found a place on his face.

Matthew had trouble making sense of what he was saying. Partially because this was definitely not they way he saw this encounter playing out and partially because it had been a very long time since he had been this close to anyone, near deity or otherwise. The Joker seemed to take Matthews moment of dumbstruck silence as a positive and greenlight to continue.

"Well good, now with that sorted, shall we?" The Joker asked while raising one of his eyebrows like a mischievous schoolboy.

"Wha- " Matthew tried to reply but was silenced as the white-haired male captured his lips with his own. Matthew tried to step back, but in his shock had failed to notice that the hand that had been gripping his wrist had found a place at the back of his head. Meanwhile, the Jokers free arm had snacked around his waist holding them firmly together.

The Joker pulled back from the kiss looking slightly flushed before quickly smirking at Matthew. "Night, night Birdie."

Matthew felt like his head was spinning. Wait, what just happened!? Was all he could think before he once again slipped into darkness. Except this time he was accompanied by dreams of gleaming red eyes and soft lips on his.

Oh dear, here we go again. Dear Readers, thank you for making it this far, if you happened to enjoy this, absolutely hated it, or are rather indifferent please leave a review. It has been literal YEARS since I have written fiction and after suffering essay burnout from college I will appreciate any and all constructive criticism. This is also practice in continual writing and long term planning so be sure to check back if you're interested as this story should be updated weekly (probably on Tuesdays).

Best, Ducky.