“Great show, Sir!” said a tall red-headed woman when she saw John Kingsley coming towards her.
“Thanks Janice,” said John. Arriving at his dressing room, he entered and immediately took off his top hat and threw it across the room. The hat landed neatly on top of a pile of pictures that he had autographed earlier. Ripping off his bowtie and his jacket, John flopped down onto his loveseat sofa and grabbed a Coke from the nearby mini-fridge. “How much did we make tonight, Janice?”
“Well let’s see,” Janice looked down onto the clipboard she was carrying then announced, “approximately two-hundred, twenty-thousand dollars, Sir"
John sighed and smiled. He loved making money and he loved his job. “Who would ‘a thought that I, a simple guy from Washington could have made it out here? Living the life and making money. All of this, just because I,” he snapped his fingers and a blue flame appeared above his hand, “can do magic.”
“Well Sir, it is quite a profitable skill.”
“Yes it is.” John smiled and downed the rest of his Coke in one gulp. “Is the limo ready?”
“Yes Sir, it’s waiting outside.”
“Good, I’ll be going then, I’m sure I can trust you to finish up here.”
“Of course, goodnight, Sir.”
John exited his dressing room and began to wind his way towards the backstage exit, were his limo waited. Everyone who walked past him made sure to say “hello”, or “good show tonight John.” He grinned thinking ‘I’ll never get tired of that.’ Reaching the door to outside, he opened it and was greeted by his driver.
John sat in his stretch limo as it drove slowly through the traffic of the strip. “Where to, Sir?”
“Here looks good,” John said pointing to a brightly lit casino that was crowded with people. The driver stopped the limo and John got out. One woman noticed him walking toward the casino and soon everyone was flocked around him, demanding autographs or tricks.
John waved them off and after some struggle, (along with the help of security guards), he made it inside the casino. The sounds of hundreds of slot machines filled the air. John made his way to a reception table and got himself $1500 in chips and set off toward the card tables.
First arriving at a blackjack table, he surprised the other players by using some magic to get fifteen 21's in a row. Next, he moved on to Texas-Hold-Em. This time he surprised all who were watching by winning ten pots in a row and making $200,000 in chips. By now he had drawn a crowd that watched him in awe and cheered every time he won. He finally arrived at his favorite game, craps. After rolling twenty sevens in a row he decided to call it a night.
After receiving his winnings from a depressed looking casino official, John found his limo outside and jumped in. Soon he was being whisked away to his penthouse. Laying lazily in the back, John thought of how much money he had just made himself and smiled, wondering what he would spend it on. Arriving at his flat, which was about fifteen miles west of Vegas, John thanked his driver and entered his home.
Turing on the lights John admired his home. It was designed with a modern look, clear glass tables, plasma TV's, and brand new kitchen; (though John didn’t cook), and a living-room with new couches that faced a wall of windows that looked out toward the distant city. He had everything he had desired in life right in his house, and he loved it. Walking over to the bar next to the wall of windows, he poured himself a glass of rum. He sipped his drink while looking out toward Vegas, admiring its beautiful twinkling lights.
“You sure you’re old enough to drink that?” John froze. ‘There’s someone in my house!’ John turned slowly to confront the intruder. The man who had spoken was sitting on the couch facing him. He wore a black jacket that covered his whole body and had long dirty-blond hair. After watching John for a moment he stood, clasped his hands behind his back, and smiled. John now saw that the intruder stood as tall as him, and he was six foot tall. John also noticed that the man carried a sword at his side. ‘Great, the guy in my house just happens to be crazy.’
“How old are you kid?”
“I’m 25 thank you. Who are you?”
“Hmm? That’s not the answer I was expecting.” The man looked surprised for a moment then returned to his cool, uninterested look. “I suppose you can call me Miles.”
“Well Miles, what are you doing in my house?”
“What you don’t know? Has your arrogance caused you to forget, John?”
“What was that? I mean how do you know my name?”
“I know everything about you John, it’s my job.”
“Is that so?”
“John Kingsley, born April 10th, 1982 in Stockholm Washington. You acquired your magical abilities at the age of 10, that’s 15 years ago, you do remember don’t you John?”
“And what should I be remembering?”
Miles shook his head and sighed, “Look I don’t have all night to be lecturing you on something you should already know so I’m gonna cut right to the chase. Your time is up John. It has been 15 years since your deal with Roshaka, and now its time to repay your debt. In other words I’ve come to take you to him.”
John was shocked. The memories that he had tried for so long to push from his mind returned all at once. He was ten, and was in his backyard trying his hardest to prefect a card trick. He had wanted to be a magician ever since he was young, but could never do tricks correctly. Tears spilled down his face as he dropped the cards in failure. “I’ll give anything to be a magician, anything!” he yelled at the sky. Suddenly everything went black. John had felt like he was falling through an endless void. He was terrified.
“Anything, you say?” came a calm, yet commanding voice from the nothingness beneath him.
There was a great rumbling at the sound of the voice laughing. It then said, “Very well, I will grant your wish, if only for a short time.” The rumbling of laughter came again. John was hit square in the chest with a force that spun head over heels. He then blacked out.
“Hey!” John, startled by the voice, was brought out of his thoughts and back to reality, “Don’t go spacing on me kid. Like I told you, I don’t have all night.” John’s hands were shaking so badly that he dropped his drink, staining his spotless white carpet. “So you ready to go?”
“You know, go, it’s my job to take you in remember?’
“I’m not going.”
“What’s that? Not going? Come on kid! I’ve been more then reasonable up to now. If you don’t come quietly,” he grasped the hilt of his sword, “I don’t know what I will do.”
“I said, I’m not going!” John put all of his fear and power into a magical fire ball and threw it at Miles. Miles took his hand from his sword and caught the fire ball an inch from his face. He looked at it then turned back to John, but John had already cast his next spell. Before Miles knew it he was hit hard in the face by some invisible object and was thrown across the room. He hit the other wall hard and sent pictures flying. John took this chance and made a run for it. He was outside in a matter of seconds and had hopped into his blue BMW. He sped down his driveway and made for the city.
‘What a pain,’ thought Miles who was standing up as John started his car. Miles walked over to the wall of windows. Popping his broken nose back into place he thought ‘I knew this wouldn’t go smoothly.’
The sound of shattering glass caught John’s attention. Looking through his rearview mirror John saw his beloved wall of windows being shattered. ‘Who cares about that now?’ Turning his eyes back to the road John gasped in surprise. Miles stood in the middle of the road, hand on his sword again. He drew it quickly and made to strike. John sped up and closed his eyes as he heard the thump of his car hitting Miles. Miles rolled over the top of the car and hit the ground behind it. John didn’t slow down; he continued to speed away toward Vegas.
Miles stood up a moment later, completely unharmed by the collision. He watched the blue BMW speed away. ‘No matter, you won’t get very far with your gas lines cut,’ he thought reliving the moment that he had cut the car a millisecond before hitting the ground. Miles sheathed his sword then began to follow behind the car, keeping it in his eye at all times.