left to right,right to left

anyways i dont know if somebody reads this or not but i made a new short story yesterday which i think is pretty decent, if somebody is out there i would like it for you to comment on the story, be it good or bad but not offensive.

There’s only three of us left and the room is still spinning, the bell’s ring keeps reverberating inside my ear canal, it feels as if the little paper like membrane inside is about to explode like a drum that’s been beat on too much. The haze from the smoke ascends from the table, and were still laughing maniacally, the game is almost near its end, which is only going to make the next round even more intense and thrilling, the anticipation sends chills down my spine and raises all the hairs on my arms, my hand cant even keep straight long enough for me to deal the cards to the other two people at the table, I’m so giddy I don’t even mind the smell anymore.
The air is stuffy and I feel sort of dizzy, my eyes feel like pin-balls and my tongue feels like a fish, the whole room melts into one point making it impossible to focus my eyes on the faces of the other players, whom I don’t really remember what they look like or at least how they’re named. It feels like its been us playing the same thing over and over, left to right and right to left, but I’m pretty sure there where other guys and girls sitting with us, I don’t know if they left or if they’re still sitting there. All I can see like new clear days is the toothy smile of this black blotch standing in a corner of the room, I suppose he’s only watching us play and it looks like he’s enjoying it, but I cant recall if he was there all this time or if he just appeared.

The room is on fire.

What is that smell?

After I finished dealing, I grab the hand dealt and lift the cards so they can meet my eyes. I scan rapidly between the various figures and see that I have eight matching card and two odd looking cards, a feeling in my gut tells me that this is not good for me, then the feeling turns to searing pain which can only mean that I have to get rid of one of the cards. These odd looking cards have peculiar drawings in them, one contains a bear fishing salmon skeletons in a dry river, the bear looks very haggard but his eyes contains a vicious ferocity, as if the hunger had dulled his lucidity and sharpened his furor, while the other contained a very calm and collected eagle perched on a wilted tree, with an olive branch in his beak and a dead prairie dog clutched in its claw, the other eight cards where frightened deer with their eyes and mouth sewed tightly, as if the person who made the stitches did not want any light to come into their virgin pupils and no sound to bleat from innocent mouth.
The room is white noise.
The smell reminds me of the deer on my cards, maybe the smell is why they’re so afraid.
The faceless smiling inkblot stretches what seems to be a very languid out of focus limb from the center of his body and rings the little bell in the middle of the table, this is when the game begins and when all hell breaks loose. Then me and the other two melts begin yelling numbers and exchanging that amount in card between each of us yelled, trying to complete the suit we have in hand, and in my case trying to get rid of one of these cards odd looking cards. The inkblot smiles more and more, until his voice begins to break in a cackle, which only reminded me of rustling leaves in autumn, the sound of bones breaking and gushing blood.
As his laugh begins growing more intense, a feeling comes over my body and I loose what little sight I had left, all I sense now is the smell flowing in my nose, the noise of our yells and the inkblot’s cackle echoing through the room. My mind becomes one knot of ecstasy, I don’t know if I’m even playing anymore, my heart races and I feel a very warm and inviting light coming through every orifice in my body, this what a resurrection probably feels like.

The room is transverberating.

The room is dinging.

The room is seeing double.

The room is filled with the stench of rustling leaves, crackling bones and dry blood.

The game is over.

My eyes recover its focus on the cards and I can see I don’t have the bear anymore; I only have the eagle and nine deer. This means I win, I was the one who wrung the bell and the inkblot turns quiet but still keeps its smile, my hands bring down the cards in them onto the table, as to show my opponents that I was the fair winner of this round. I look at the table and see the other players clearly now, their hair is all messed up, full of sweat, the eyes look swollen with the conjunctiva full of little tiny red vessels and the pupils look dilated beyond belief, sweat covers their sardonic smiling faces. Then I see the people sitting besides us, slouching, with their faces covered in dry blood, with the same sardonic smile that the other two players had, this is when I realize that the smell filling my nostrils is nothing but the smell of lead and blood, death and pestilence. This makes me want to throw up, but is I try to open my mouth I realize I cant, because its trapped in the same smile the others, I tried to yell but only maniacal laughter came from my mouth.
The inkblot is the only thing not in focus except for that toothy smile of his, which seems to enjoy what is occurring to me. Then he stretches his languid limb again and gives a gun to one of the players, who doesn’t hesitate in grabbing and pointing it to his temple, the player begins laughing like a morbid hyena and then he pulls the trigger, leaving behind a smiling corpse. His hand becomes limp and drops the cards it was holding, and I can see he has the bear I used to have, this meant he was the loser for the round. My prize for winning was this new clear daze I was having, this crazy lucidity of figuring out what was happening, I tried to scream in despair again but there was only laughter, horrible laughter.

The inkblot stretches his hand.

The bell dings.

The room is spinning

There’s only two of us left and I’m giddy with excitement.