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Philip Marlowe: The Realist

🇹🇭Secrecy_
4
Completed
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Synopsis
Named after a popular American TV show by his parents, Marlowe's life takes a sharp turn when he's left on the streets to fend for himself. Set against the backdrop of California's dangerous underworld, Marlowe grows up with the constant threat of gangs and violence, honing his survivalist instincts. As he enters adulthood, Marlowe finds himself burdened with an insurmountable debt of over $600,000 from his studies in Psychology and Criminology at Stanford University. Determined to break free from this financial stranglehold, he takes on a double life. During the week, he tirelessly pursues his education, striving to become a detective through the police academy. But on weekends and during his spare moments, Marlowe becomes a homeless detective, solving puzzles and mysteries on the gritty streets of California. Living in a cardboard box the size of a refrigerator, he risks everything to chase down leads, solve cases, and inch closer to paying off his staggering debt, but after earning some money he decided to gamble in a poker game to double his money.
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Chapter 1 - A Dark Deal

The Night was sticky with sweat and tension, the smokey haze of the dimly lit poker room heavy in the air. The table was crowded, a chaotic congregation of gamblers, each eyeing the chips with a blend of desires and mixture of greed and envy of one another trying to take other people's money. I'd been in this game long enough to know that when things got quiet trouble was brewing, A player would cry and rage then quit, and get arrested for running away from a deficit.

Across from me is a guy named Sam Tully or people would call him "Two Times" a man whose reputation for duplicity was surpassed only by his ability to maintain a poker face I guess that where he got his nickname. The guy had a jaw like a granite slab and eyes that could bore holes through steel a pretty manly jawline I would say. The stakes have gotten far higher after a while, the tension is much thicker than ever, and there was a glint in his eyes that spelled out one thing I can only say vengeance for a man who can kill.

The third player at our table was a relative of a newcomer to the playground to the underground poker scene, Emily Mitchell she has black hair and an aura of mystery, people called her "Black Widow" not because of the superhero from a comic and from a mainstream franchise, but the reason why they called her that because she has an uncanny knack or a thing of luring men into her web. But don't look at her looks fool you, she was sharp as razor, and rumor had it she'd bankrupted more than one unsuspecting high roller.

The fourth player was a wildcard, a wiry man named Mickey Malone and nicknamed "Knuckle" due too his erratic behavior and high hair triggered that kinda if cliche like from a T.V character. He is on a winning streak lately, and, tonight, his eyes darted around the room like a cornered rat. I'd heard whispers that he owed some dangerous people a sizable chunk of change, and this game might be his last of the dice, You see Im kinda of a selfish broke young adult on a debt of 600,000 USD and so that money is mine.

As the dealer shuffled the cards around, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was terrible amiss but I couldn't care less. The tension in the room is very high and palpable everyone is focusing on their game and problems each player was sweating soaked brow a testament to the mountain pressure. But I was a detective first, than a gambler second, and my gut told me this was more than just a high-stakes poker game and at least it wasn't a death game.

Emily's fingers deftly flicked a chip onto her pot, her eyes locked onto Sam's eyes with a sly, almost predatory grin like an apex predator hunting its prey. Sam responded with a raise, the tension rising like mercury in a thermometer. On the other hand, Mickey's knuckles turned white as he clenched his fists tighter than a tree being stuck on the ground by its roots, and it looked like the card in his hand was bent, his gaze darting from player to player I got scared a little but that was an underestimated but managed to hold my emotions back.

The first card hit the felt, a queen of hearts, followed by ten of spades. The Tension ratcheted up another notch. I kept my eyes on the cards, but my ears attuned to every sound in the room, the low hum of conversation, the clinking of glasses, the soft shuffle of footsteps, as I held my breaths and breathed heavily as my heart started to beat faster and faster.

And the final two card revealed, a king of diamonds and jack of clubs. The collective gasps around the table was almost deafening. A straight was in the making, and the pot was bulging the chips. Both Emily and Sam exchange a look that cold frozen hell over.

I took a deep breath and pushed my remaining chips into the center, the tension in the room is reaching its breaking point. Emily hesitated a moment, then matched my bet but I kept my composure hoping that I could win this game. On the other hand Sam however, however he has a different plan he went all in sounds like a dumb move to me as he pushed every last of the chips that he had in his hand onto the pot, his jaw was set like a vise.

Besides that Mickey face has contorted into a mask of fury, as he slammed his cards down on the table, revealing a pair of eights. He cursed and stormed away from the table, as one man said if you don't cool it, and you loose it sounds like a corny commercial on a T.V ads, leaving the three of us to face off in a high-stakes game.

As the game continues Emily laid down her cards revealing two kings, a jack, securing her pair of kings. But my hand was better a queen and a king, giving me the wining hand I only have one thing to say I was lucky and I hope this luck continue on. I raked the chips in, my heart is pounding like jackhammer.

As I watched Sam seethe in silence, I couldn't help but feel that this game was far from over. Once again the tension was intensified, and the shadows cast by the dim overhead, the lights seems darker and even more ominous, whatever had brought us together at this table, I had a sinking feeling that it was about to rear its ugly head.