The scene is a battle that has rampaged. Everything has been torn asunder. There is scrap metal everywhere, and signs of rocks blown apart. The sun is setting and shades of crimson and red illuminate the ground and mountains below. While there might normally be trees here, this area is now mostly dust. A small wind has picked up as we tune to the scene of our heroine. She stands on the black box of a chess board. On one side is various stone chess pieces that she has captured, many of them show signs of scratches, cracks and pieces missing from them. On the other side is several of her friends captured by her foe. They look like they’ve seen better days. Many of them are too weak to cheer her on. The pieces she has captured on the other hand, let out low groaning hisses and sounds of rocks crashing together. They boo and hiss at her turn.
“Make your move.”
Her attention is on the stone gargoyle in front of her. Both of them play the queen, argued to be the most powerful piece on the board. Both are in check, and her move decides the game.
“Checkmate.”
The gargoyle lets out a roar as the girl’s captured pieces slowly desolve. The stone boots binding her friends tear themselves apart and the gargoyle falls apart just as the sun is setting. Her friends come up to her, hug her and cheer her on. She has saved the day.
“Ryja, what’s wrong?”
Ryja is looking around her. What was once red lighting and crimson shadows, has now faded to a dark blue. The stars are in the sky and the landscape remains otherwise unchanged. She looks around feeling the back hairs on her neck stand on end.
“This shoul…”
The ground below her starts to rumble and her friends start to fade. Ryja starts to back up frantically as she sees tiles of the chess board pull themselves into freedom, and shatter into infinity. The landscape slowly fades and she’s left looking in blackness. The chessboard gives one last shudder and all the tiles shatter at once. She gives one last jump of desperation, reaches for something, anything to grab onto, but only grabs air. Her last breath escapes in a frantic scream as she falls towards oblivion.
—
Here we are in a dimly lit room, curtains pulled over the window and no noise to be heard except for the occasional car passing by in the street. The silence is suddenly broken apart as bed springs shift and covers scrape together. Several muffled voices escape the figure behind the covers before the whole mass falls to the floor. A small grunt escapes the mass as our former heroine bolts up looking around, head cocking in every direction, expecting the worst. Her bearings finally return to her as she leans forward, right hand on her hip, and limps towards the door.
She does her best job to stand up straight, despite the pain in her right hip, and gives a quick stretch of her body. She gives a long look out the window. It’s night, with light pouring in from the moon and stars. A brief glance at the clock reveals it’s one hour past midnight. Her eyes turn to a defying stare as she waits for it to do something, anything. The staredown lasts for a few minutes before she trudges off to the bathroom.
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Heading back towards the bedroom she gives one last glance at the clock. Nothing happens. There is still plenty of time before she has to be at work for a job she wasn’t looking forward to, secretary duty.
Hands now on her hips she gives a quick look down at the covers on the floor and up on the pillows up on the bed. A tug of war ensues as the myrid of possibilities, namely comfort level, chases themselves in her head.
She grabs the pillows, chucks them on the floor and…
—
They were in different positions and shaped a little differently than what she remembered, but the same familiar chessboard is beneath her. A pit wells in her stomach. She swears she’s scene this before.
“Make your move.”
The gargoyle before her utters his words. Ryja’s mind struggles to remember. It feels weak and garbled from the exhaustive battle that took place. She doesn’t know what will happen if she wins the game, but she knows it will be bad. Losing isn’t an option, her friends lives are on the line. Ryja does the only thing she can think of. She crosses sits down, crosses her legs, places her hands on them and closes her eyes.
“What are you waiting for? Make your move.”
Still no response from the gargoyle’s opponent. An eternity passes by, and he finally loses his patience. He pulls out a sword, seemingly from nowhere and lunges at her. He passes right through her and crashes to the other side of the board behind her. Scrambling to his feet, he readies another lunge, but realizes his sword has been embedded in his chest. His eyes narrow and he readies his claws. His arms fail to respond and he struggles to pull himself forward.
His body for the first time feels his stone existance. He can barely move. He lets out several grunts in an effort to move. He reluctantly gives up and sinks his head in defeat.
“Why?”
His opponent still gives him no response. Terror begins to fill him. He begins to contemplate underestimating his opponent. Powers greater than himself may be at work. He gives out a cry of surprise as he feels the hold on him loosen. His body crashes to the ground and he gives one last look towards his opponent. The landscape slowly begins to change. What was once a dreary nighttime sky now turns into bright pastels. He can feel the sun beating on him. He can feel his body slipping. He looks down to see his footing. Instead of clawed feet, they are now hooves. He lets out a sharp whiny.
“UNICORN!”
For the first time since she was told to make her move, words escape her lips. This time, they sound younger. Ryja is a little girl and happily guiding the unicorn in front of her and coaxing it to follow her. The temptation is too great. She loses control of herself and tries to jump on it’s back. The next moments are absolute bliss as she rides the winged stallion into the sky. Time stood still as if it would almost never end…
—
Once again, covers rustle and muffles force their way out from underneath. This time Ryja awakens rather gracefully by smashing the side of her head against the base of her bed.
“Aggww.”
Ryja gives the half gurgle to the ceiling and just lays there waiting for the disorientation to pass. Sleep pulls it’s mask and Ryja is once again left in a half sleep state.
—
For the final time, the covers rustle. This time Ryja stands straight up. The covers get torn off. She storms straight towards the main area of the apartment. The bedroom door flies open and she charges to the other side of the room. There against the wall is an alarm clock chiming and singing to her. He hand comes crashing down on the wake button. Her eyes twitch and she smashes her hand down on it again for good measure.