The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!
by Elaine Pascale
I tried to seek answers in the cloudy water of a magic 8 ball.
That evolved to tarot, then Ouija. The latter summoned the creature seated at the opposite end of the board. His sharp nails click on the brown and tan squares as he waits for me to take my turn.
Who do I move?
The Bishop is clad like a Klansman and this beast would love nothing more than for piety to engage in war. The Bishop must be sweltering in his garb; the room is like a furnace.
The King and Queen are empty vessels. Their clear stems make him laugh as they represent the hollowness of riches on earth.
The rook cannot protect me inside his fragile walls. There are no walls here. The empty landscape stretches on for eternity as the beast and I sit on a suspension bridge, swinging above a void. Each time a piece is moved, the bridge swings with violence. The beast enjoys this part of the game.
I learned long ago that Knights do not save damsels like me. Physically and mentally, I would be on the other side of the spinning wheel, I would be the one offering the poisoned apple, I would be the architect of the candy house in those stories.
And the pawns, like me, are simply pawns.
I lose no matter what piece I play.
He loves to play this game. He loves all games but chess in particular. He has threatened to make me play for a hundred years. Then, I will learn what lies on the other side of the abyss. After one hundred years of playing tactician, I will be ready.
At least I will have some answers.
Fiction © Copyright Elaine Pascale
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com
More from Elaine Pascale:
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