The Cards Don’t Lie — But the Reader Might.
What happens when James Cobalt, the man who never believes in fate, sits across from someone who does?
This week’s behind-the-scenes short story peels back the veil on one of Cobalt’s hidden encounters — a mysterious tarot reader, a shadowy trap, and a warning he almost didn’t listen to.
Tarot Spread:
The Hierophant – Old systems. Dogma. False teachers.
Wheel of Fortune – Karmic turn. A game already in motion.
The Moon – Deception. Shadow selves. Someone wears a mask.
The first bullet missed him by inches.
James Cobalt didn’t flinch. He ducked behind a rusted-out tuk-tuk frame in the alley, felt the sting of shattered glass against his neck, and waited. Bangkok rain came down hard, drumming on tin rooftops like war drums. Another shot cracked — too far left.
Amateurs.
He drew his suppressed Sig, counted three heartbeats, then swung around and fired once. Then twice. The alley went silent. One man down. The other ran. Cobalt didn’t chase. Not tonight.
He slid the body over, searched pockets. Nothing but a burner phone, 400 baht, and a playing card tucked in the man’s collar:
The Hierophant.
Not a coincidence.
Earlier that evening, he’d been pulled off the main road by a vision. Not one of his own. Someone else’s. A ripple in the ether. A tug at the base of his skull — the kind of thing you learn not to ignore.
It led him to the basement of a noodle shop in Silom, past rows of hanging ducks and fish sauce fumes. A red curtain. A single candle. And her.
She called herself Madame Sha. No surname. No questions.
“I don’t usually do this for men like you,” she said, voice like silk and smoke. “Your kind always leaves blood on the cards.”
“I’m not here for fate,” he said. “Just a warning.”
She smiled and dealt anyway. Three cards.
The Hierophant. Wheel of Fortune. The Moon.
“What does it mean?”
“Tradition meets chance,” she said. “But this—” Her nail clicked on The Moon. “This is illusion. Secrets. Madness. Someone is hiding behind a mask. And that mask is you.”
Cobalt leaned back. “Try again.”
“I don’t shuffle twice for shadows,” she said. “But I’ll tell you this: someone’s gambling on your death tonight.”
Back in the alley, Cobalt tossed the tarot card into the trash fire. The Hierophant curled in the flames, just another false prophet burned down.
His phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
You were warned. The Wheel turns. The Moon watches. — S
He checked the rooftops. Watched the alley’s mouth. Someone was watching. Always watching.
Two hours later, Cobalt stood across from Madame Sha again — this time with blood on his shirt.
“You knew,” he said.
“I saw the thread,” she said calmly. “I didn’t pull it.”
“You sent me in blind.”
“You walked in blind.”
She turned the deck face-down and began to shuffle. Her hands moved like a dancer’s. The candle flickered. Then she paused.
“You want answers?”
“I want names.”
She nodded once. Drew a single card.
The Moon. Again.
“No names tonight,” she said. “Only symbols.”
He stepped forward, hand on the Sig. “No more games.”
“You don’t understand,” she whispered. “The Moon isn’t hiding the truth from you. It’s hiding you from the truth.”
Then she turned the card sideways — half shadow, half light.
And for a moment, Cobalt remembered a forest temple. A monk with one eye. A lesson about mirrors. And masks.
He backed away. Didn’t say a word. Just left.
Behind him, the candle snuffed out.
Want More?
This short story ties into the hidden layers of Shock and Awe — a serialized thriller uncovering the secret life of James Cobalt.
New readers start here Read Chapter One for Free
