Wild cards
Chapter 27
…
There was a 15-minute break between his last duel and the final four. A final four of which he was a part. It was mind boggling. He'd only been playing the game less than a week. It was almost impossible to believe.
Now if only it didn't come with such a real and imminent threat to his life.
Lobo the man was called. He'd heard it in passing from the man's last opponent. He was even more terrifying than he remembered. He might have started panicking if not for the distraction that had decided to harass him on her way out.
"Unbelievable! Absolutely unbelievable!"
Harry grinned as the bratty girl ranted.
"I cannot believe 'you' made it to the final four. The world has been turned on its head."
She'd lost to the well-dressed Italian. She was none too pleased.
"He was cheating. I know he was. He probably has a wand up his sleeve."
"How would he use that to cheat?"
"Bring the cards he wanted to the top of his deck. I've heard of people doing that. He might be switching them with cards not even in his deck."
If she was right that could be a problem. If she was right.
"I guess I'll find out if I beat this next guy" said Harry.
Isolda shivered, "Yeah, you can have him."
What an odd reaction, Harry thought. He must have been thinking awfully loud because Isolda seemed to have heard him.
"I don't know what it is but he's just, wrong. Hollow."
Well that made no sense, not to Harry anyway.
"I'll be careful" he told her.
This got her all flustered, "It's not like I care you know."
Feeling especially cheeky in that moment, and always wondering what it would feel like, he closed the distance while she pretended not to look at him. She squeaked when he wrapped his arms around her. Her cheeks turned a brilliant red.
Releasing her, Harry gave her a pat on the head and walked away, leaving the bratty girl dazed, confused, and glowing like a candle.
Harry tried not to snicker as he marched to meet his enemy. Really, he was practically skipping. Who knew hugs could put you in such a good mood. Or maybe it was getting one over on Isolda. Perhaps it was both, either way he was ready for what came next. Even the prospect of death didn't seem so bad.
He lost some of his zeal when he stepped into the ring and faced the seven-foot man called Lobo. The man stared without expression and Harry understood what Isolda had meant when she called him hollow. He didn't feel as though he were looking at a person so much as a black monolith.
"Uh, hi" he really needed to stop saying, he sounded like such an idiot.
Lobo stared at him and he began to think the man might be deaf until, "I know you" he said in a voice that was deep and ponderous, "you should not have come here child."
I wouldn't have if I'd known you were going to be here, Harry thought, "Well, I did."
Lobo nodded slowly, "Yes."
Isolda was right, Harry thought, there is something very wrong with this guy.
"Alright ladies and gentlemen, here we go. Our final four competitors. Who shall emerge the victor and who shall be sent home crying?"
Harry thought the announcer was misreading his competitors. He was certain none of those remaining were the sort to go anywhere crying. Certainly not the dark-skinned Goliath before him.
"Game, start!"
And with that they were off. Lobo had the first move and showed as much excitement as the average brick when he drew his card and made his play.
"I summon Raging Wearbeast in attack mode."
The wear beast was a hybrid, man and wolf. His legs were like that of a dog but long and holding the body upright making them appear twisted, unnatural. The body was covered in coarse gray fur and the face was distended, half way between wolf and man.
A 1200 D 600
He left it at that making it Harry's turn. He drew.
"I summon Dragons Hostess in defense mode."
His memories of that night at the inn were hazy in places but he still remembered her. The beautiful layered robes, the artistically coifed hair, the body of glowing mist beneath the detachable head.
A 100 D 1600
She sat placid, looking at the slavering wolf man with barely a hint of interest. There was only one thing missing.
"I'll also activate the magic card Dragon's inn, which decreases the mana cost of all undead type monsters by one."
The inn appeared like a dream, haze and fog becoming solid and real. The hostess shifted with the appearance of the inn and now sat on the porch as if awaiting her patrons.
Ending his turn Harry watched Lobo draw and summon "Cursed Mask."
It was a full head mask, designed with a savage visage in red on black but that wasn't the worst part.
A 400 D 300
The mask hadn't been on the field but a moment when it attacked the Raging Wearbeast. The hybrid struggled but the mask latched on over the beast's head and refused to budge.
A dark miasma shrouded them and when it cleared the wear beast was now wearing wrestling tights and glowing with a dark aura.
"Cursed Mask attaches to a warrior or beast-warrior and adds their attack and defense. 'Luchador' is also added their name."
What's a luchador, was Harry's first thought? His second was, why add something to the name?
"I activate the magic card The Ring. This card increases the attack of any monster with 'Luchador' in its name by 100 times the number of cards affected by The Ring."
Oh, that's why.
"Luchador Raging Wearbeast, attack Dragon's Hostess."
The vile beast man wrestler rushed the fragile looking china doll woman. One swipe of its jagged claws sent her head flying into the air. It hung there a moment before returning to its place.
"Dragon's Hostess has an effect. So long as Dragon's inn remains on the field she cannot be destroyed in battle" and since she was in defense mode he didn't lose any points.
"You prolong the inevitable" said Lobo.
"That's your opinion" if you even have one, thought Harry.
Harry drew, and the game went on. Both had a solid theme to their decks. Lobo and his masked wrestlers. Harry reliving the night at the Dragon's inn.
Lobo came on strong with a trio of Luchador's, Turbine, Valentine, and Lobo Fuerte. None were terribly strong on their own, but The Ring added to their power more and more as each one took the field.
Harry was not idle in this time, summoning Dragon cloak, the spellcaster of the inn, and Flying lantern, the fire shooting head.
He lost Flying lantern to Luchador Turbine then summoned Tainted Pond and destroyed Luchador Valentine.
Stoic Genji, his undead samurai put an end to the Raging Wearbeast only to reveal the mask had to be destroyed separately. A task made difficult when it attached to the Belligerent Boarman and destroyed his Vile Ent.
Traps were played. Points were lost. Turbine met his end along with the Tainted Pond. The Belligerent Boarman fell to a trap, detaching the Cursed Mask yet again and there they were.
On Harry's side the Dragon's Hostess sat through it all, placid, untouched.
Stoic Genji stood next to her.
A 1700 D 1000
And Dragon stone next to him in defense mode.
A 800 D 1400
Lobo wasn't doing as well, only having two monsters. His Cursed Mask and Luchador Lobo Fuerte.
A 1200 D 700
Harry was ahead in points as well at 900 to Lobo's 400. Things seemed to be going Harry's direction, but it was Lobo's turn.
"I sacrifice my two monsters, and summon the Blue Cyclone."
Lobo's monsters vanished, and the Blue Cyclone appeared in the ring. He wore a blue mask and matching cape which fluttered in the breeze.
A 2300 +100 D 1900
And just like that the tables had turned, but Lobo wasn't done.
"I activate Dropkick, which lets me return one of your monsters to your hand."
The Blue Cyclone leapt up high in the air and slammed both feet into the Dragon's Hostess. The card popped off his board and magically returned to his hand.
"Now, Blue Cyclone, attack Stoic Genji."
Stoic Genji was the strongest monster Harry had on the field and the Blue Cyclone tore into him like he was made of straw. He grabbed him up in a helicopter spin then he body slammed him, and he did it again.
The samurai shattered under the deadly assault, taking 700 of Harry's life points with him.
The end was nigh. Harry stared at his deck warily. He had nothing in his hand that could beat the Blue Cyclone and only one monster in this deck that could. If he didn't' draw it now, that would be it.
He placed his hand on his deck, slid the top card off, turned it over.
"I sacrifice Dragon stone, and summon Death Shogun Dullahan!"
The one monster that could defeat the Blue Cyclone trotted onto the field through a cloud of dark mist. But something was wrong. The headless warlord wasn't facing Lobo and the Blue Cyclone. The horse was turned toward Harry and the head in his hand was staring at him with glowing red eyes.
What was happening? Had he summoned it by accident? Harry stood staring into those lifeless glowing eyes, unable to look away.
The horse gave a snort and turned without command to face the enemy. Harry released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. He had no idea what had just happened, but he knew he never wanted it to happen again.
"I play" he squeaked, "I play Storm of the Century, destroying The Ring and taking 200 of your life points."
The storm seemed weaker than he remembered but it did its job. The Ring was gone, the Blue Cyclone lost 100 attack and Lobo lost 200 life points.
"And, thanks to… to my monster's effect, he gains 200 attack for every undead type monster in my hand. I have two."
Harry showed the two monsters and the Dullahan's attack rose to 2600 as he stared balefully at the Cyclone.
"Death Shogun Dullahan, attack the Blue Cyclone!"
The headless rider reached back for his sword and in a single motion to fast to see, the Cyclone was sliced neatly in half.
The duel was over, he had won. But as the phantoms faded he still felt the eyes of the Dullahan on him till it was gone. He fell to his knees panting. He would not be using that card again, ever.
"You won."
Harry looked up at the black man towering over him, "Yeah, I did."
There was a hint of an expression on his face as he stared down at Harry, confusion, "You were not supposed to win."
Harry saw the card in his hand, saw the hand moving toward his board. If he summoned now Harry had no hope of escaping whatever it was before it tore him apart.
"Lobo!"
His hand froze, he turned, looked at the Italian who stood not five feet away. His hand moved away from his board and without a word he walked away. His face once again unreadable as stone.
"Are you alright?"
Harry looked at the Italian warily, "I'm fine" he said.
"That's good" the man said, "I'd hate to have you unable to compete. Wouldn't do to have my final opponent quit now."
So John had lost, Harry realized, and he was to face this well-dressed mustachio. The shave headed thug's words came back to him and after how he had called off Lobo there could be no mistake.
He'd just reached the boss fight. Difficulty, shit my pants.