Jester's Lament

"Hey, wake up."

Jester kicked the man who was lying on the sidewalk in a drunken sprawl. The man made an animal sound but didn't stir. The sounds from a nearby bar were like ghost whispers in this corner of the street.

It was late and the man had had his fill of alcohol. Right now, he was not good for anything except his specific skills. He was an important man. Few had the talent that he possessed. Jester had a question and he knew he'd have to get it answered the old fashioned way.

He sat down on his haunches near the man and took out his switchblade. He flicked the knife open and cut a sliver of red in the man's open palm. The man's eyes opened instantly. His pupils were jet black and darkness swirled like a witch's potion in his eyes. Jester avoided looking directly into the man's eyes.

The voice that emerged from his throat was guttural grating of knives on hard bones.

"Dark Knife, what do you seek?"

Jester groaned at the name. He'd not been called that in ages. It was an old and lost name that he hoped would stay buried. But it sprung up at him like a rotting corpse from a casket when he least expected it.

"There is a black card in the wild, he said, "and I need to know its location."

"Black black black card. Wild so wild. A bus, then mud then truck then flames. Beware the Mongrifier. Don't read books. Drugs doom boom boom batman..."

The man droned on.

Jester got up and started walking in the direction of the bar. He had the answers he needed. He was going to hunt down that card no matter what. The man called to him again. Jester vanished in the darkness.

----
Mr. Kosmos was in a library.

Something chased him. Big paws attached to a violent killing machine. It padded through the darkness, slamming into the bookshelves here and there, knocking down books.

He felt the maw of fear clench onto his heart. He tripped on a fallen hardcover and managed to twist and land on his back. The monster was upon him. A paw pressed his chest with the ability to crush his ribs and puncture his heart.

He cried out in fear and woke up.

Mr. Kibbles was sitting on his chest.

He'd never wanted so badly to skin a cat.

----
This is definitely going somewhere. Typed on my phone so point out any typos in comments and I'll correct those.