James F. Shrader had worked at the same casino and dealt blackjack for a long time. The casino had always been a popular place. Large amounts of people filtered in and out every day.

Mr. Shrader didn't much enjoy working in a casino, being a man of principal and moral. But with mouths to feed at home, the well paying job just had to do. One aspect that he did enjoy, however, was meeting new, interesting, sometimes mysterious people.

Mr. Shrader noticed this strange man as soon as he entered the casino. Chills ran up his spine as he watched the darkly dressed man saunter over straight to his table. The dark man sat down at the stool in front of Mr. Shrader. Completely silent, he sat and waited for Mr. Shrader to deal. While they played, the dark man continued not to say a word.

Mr. Shrader had played with some strange characters in his day, but he had never played with anyone quite like this.

As he dealt the cards, he thought it was really quite strange that the mysterious man's eyes were black. Not black like a 'Hey man, your eye's are really dark,' kind of black. But really black. Black like midnight- complete, cold, dead. Black.

Mr. Shrader did not like to judge people purely on their appearances, but there was just something about this man that made him uncomfortable. He still had spoken no words. The dark man simply threw his chips around the table and played. In Mr. Shrader's experiences, he figured that the best way to deal with someone like this was to make polite conversation.

"So, what du' they call ya?"

An awkward pause followed, as the dark-eyed man sat silent. He lightly pounded his fist on the table, signaling the need for another card. Mr. Shrader obliged.

"Some people call me The Doctor." The man said in a deep, hollow voice.

"Ah! You've got your very own gambling alias! You must be a real shark, huh?" Mr. Shrader gave The Doctor a quick nudge. The Doctor remained silent, annoyed.

"I'm looking for somebody, maybe you know her."

"A lot of people come to this casino, man." Mr. Shrader tried to say as politely as he could.

"This one is different. She comes here a lot. Her name is Elizabeth."

"Oh, Liz! Ya, I know her. She's a regular around here, when she's not working, which is just too rare these days…"

The Doctor gave a sigh of impatience, as the blackjack dealer continued:

"I'm not sure where she is, but I can sure call her for you if you'd like."

The Doctor forced a fake smile. "Would you? That'd be great."

As Mr. Shrader pulled out his cell phone, they flipped over their cards, revealing the winner. The Doctor casually reeled in his winning chips.

"Hey, Liz, It's James. There is someone here at the casino that says he wants to talk to ya, is that alright?"

Mr. Shrader listened for a bit, and then handed the phone to The Doctor.

"Hello?" The Doctor said.

Mr. Shrader nearly jumped as The Doctor's voice changed completely. A bright, friendly ring replaced the cold, deep voice Mr. Shrader had heard from him just a minute ago.

"Hello! My name is Wilson. You are Diana's sister, right?"

A pause

"Oh, excellent! Well I was just wondering where she might be at a time like this. I've been trying to find her for some time now. I've been wanting to get together with her to discuss…uh huh…o right right…"

Mr. Shrader didn't often listen in on other people's conversations, but he was a very curious man.

"All right, so you think they're going to visit the Catholic Church some time today? Ok, thank you. I'll be sure to let Diana know you helped me out. Uh huh. Thank you so much!"

The doctor hung up the phone. His voice instantly changed back to deep and painful. "Stupid girl…" he muttered.

The Doctor began to gather his chips.

"You're leaving already? Where you headed?" Wondered Mr. Shrader.

"I'm off to kill Diana and her boyfriend." The Doctor stated without a pause.

"Really?" Mr. Shrader half said, half giggled. He thought The Doctor was just making some kind of weird, sick joke.

"Really." The Doctor replied, as serious and scary as Mr. Shrader had ever seen anyone.

Mr. Shrader was still confused and skeptical. His curiosity continued to push on. "Why are you telling me this?"

A short pause followed, as The Doctor, still sitting on the stool, picked up one of the cards. "Do you mind if I keep this?" The Doctor asked, as he raised up the Jack of Spades-The black jack.

"What?" Mr. Shrader started to get a little freaked out.

With a wink and a dark, slight smile, the doctor leaned real close, nearly face to face with Mr. Shrader. "Don't scream," he whispered, barely audible.

As The Doctor stood up and made his way out of the casino, no one noticed the blackjack dealer laying face down, dead, on the table. His throat cut.