A Game of Chess
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All I can see is pitch black when I open my eyes. When I look around, I notice an illuminated table, two chairs, a chessboard, and a black-cloaked figure sitting at the table. The board is set. Sixteen pawns, four rooks, four knights, four bishops, two queens and two kings. All set up accordingly. I’ve been practicing all of my life, but I’ve never played an opponent as fearful as this.
“I usually prefer to play black,” said the black-cloaked figure.
“That’s fine. I can play white,” I replied.
“Good. I always let my opponent go first.”
I put my hand on the pawn at G2 (in front of the right-most knight) and moved it ahead two spaces to G4.
I could not see this person's face. They were wearing a black robe that left everything to the imagination. They move their arm forward, and from the black robe emerges a skeletal hand. This hand was missing everything on the body except the bones. No muscle, no flesh, just bones. They take their pawn at H7 (in front of the right rook) and move it one space forward to H6.
“Do you know who I am?” asks the ominous figure.
“I think so. You’re Death.”
“Very good, and do you know why you’re playing against me?”
"To see who will win," I say with arrogance.
“Not quite,” Death responds. “You are indeed playing to win, but what is the prize?”
I think about it for a second. I am playing a chess game against the taker of souls, the one who makes living eternal impossible. There can only be one reason.
“The prize is my life.”
“Precisely; shall we continue?”
The game went on. The game got heated. My bishop took their knight, their rook to my bishop, my queen took two of their pawns, my knight took their rook, their remaining rook took three of my pawns. We played and played until there were five pieces left on the board. Both of our kings, both of our queens, and one of their rooks remained. This is not looking good.
“Check!” said Death.
I curse under my breath and move my king to avoid his queen, which was positioned in a straight line from my king before I moved it. When I move my king, he pauses for a second to take a look at the board.
“You never were a good sport. You won many games, but you could never handle losing.”
“What’s your point?” I say, now annoyed.
“You put up a good fight, but it looks like you won’t overcome your final challenge.”
They were right. Even if this game were to go on for a few more rounds, all he needs to do is keep chasing my king with his queen before he eventually corners me. I’ve lost. I knock over my king in surrender.
Death looked into my soul with a newly visible grin. "Checkmate.”
Garrett considers himself to be an average Joe who writes, plays video games, is an avid lover of The Golden Girls, and sleeps way too much. He also watches anime, and aspires to become a cat lady before the next apocalypse. He hates people who are misogynistic, racist, homophobic, and trans-phobic, people who wake him up too early, and things that smell bad.
