(Yeah I guess)
The sun had begun to set by the time Marla got home from her classes, casting long shadows across the floor. Everything was bathed in a dying golden light— except, of course, the cards spread across the floor in front of her. Her roommate had gone off with her significant other, and as soon as the door had closed behind her, a deadly music had sounded from beneath her bed, beckoning her, calling her. She’d had no choice but to retrieve the dusty purple velvet satchel and remove the cursed deck; she knew what would happen if the cards were neglected.
Five of them now sat facedown on the floor by her criss-crossed legs, their jewelled backs unaffected by both light and shadow, glinting dangerously like the eyes of a feral beast in the dark. And they were beautiful, she had to admit, what with their almost stained-glass design, painted in vivid hues of blood-red, deep blue, and plum, but they were not to be trifled with. Misuse of an older deck such as this was dangerous, even deadly, and so Marla’s fingers trembled as they grazed the top of the leftmost card.
Marla turned it over, the card much heavier than expected. The Fool winked back at her, offering up its secondary meaning: reckless choices, folly, wasted energy. She bit the inside of her cheek, a spark of fear igniting within her.
Next, her fingers hovered over the card beside, hesitant as they flipped it. Justice. At least she’d drawn one potentially positive card..
Marla moved to the middle card, but for some reason, her hand refused to turn it over. Her heart rate sped up; this would not turn out well. But she moved on to the next, attempting to distract herself from her mounting dread. The Hanged Man swayed from his noose, soulless eyes drilling into her. She clenched her jaw, her hand beginning to tremble. Sacrifice and missed opportunities were evidently to come..
The fourth card, farthest to the right gave off such an unearthly glow that she knew what it was going to be before she turned it over. The Moon, only in its purest, most dangerous form. Marla began to panic, fingers drifting back to the card in the middle as of drawn by magnetism, the only card still facedown. A tiny whimper escaped her lips as she flipped it onto its back— and her heart stopped.
The dark figure of Death stared back up at her, unmoving, unrelenting.
(Finally done! Keep in mind that I have no idea how Tarot cards work and am making most of this up
Could Gwen text her now?)