Death of chess - part 2 - separation
This is the second part of the chess story Death of Chess.
(if you want to read the first part, you can find it here).
I wrote this story as a chess-infused fantasy about a woman whose passion for the game—and the trauma she carries—pulls her into another world. It’s a tale of raw emotion, dark twists, and an unexpected collision between chess and the ancient game of senet. I’d love to hear your thoughts.
DEATH OF CHESS - PART 2 - SEPARATION
As Carrolyne Thompson stepped into her cell, she collapsed. Her head spun, her vision blurred—like she'd downed five shots of rum. Goosebumps prickled her skin. She had no idea what was happening. Moments later, a police officer arrived at the cell. He carried a ring of keys, one of which had a tiny charm shaped like a senet board.
“Carol Thompson—she in this cell?” the officer asked.
“I’m Carol,” came a voice from inside, where Carrolyne lay on the floor.
“Oh, so it’s you,” the officer muttered, stepping closer and unlocking the door. “You’re too young to be behind bars. Besides, your mother disgraced senet in the cruelest way and introduced us to some deadly game called chess. But you—you had the pieces. The chess pieces. If you dump them out, we’ll let you go.”
“Will I see my mom?” Carol asked, a tear sliding down her cheek.
“Don’t worry. You’ll see her. And we’ll take care of your leg. Just empty your pockets,” the officer said gently.
Carol obeyed. She pulled out the pieces one by one. As she held them, they crumbled in her hands—turning to ash.
The officer opened the cell and let her out. Then he remembered: Carol couldn’t walk. So he lifted her onto his shoulders and carried her away.
About an hour later, Carrolyne came to. Her vision flickered, so she rubbed her eyes again and again. When the blur finally cleared, she saw the cold, grimy floor beneath her—and the bars in front of the hallway.
“Well… I must’ve passed out. And I almost forgot I’m in prison. But no… what matters is—where’s Carol?” she thought, and a wave of fear for her daughter washed over her.
But Carol was somewhere else entirely. Far, far away.
Carrolyne stood up. She had to act. But this path… this path led somewhere very far away.
Continue the story here
© Laura Choanozoa (a pseudonym and the author’s trademark), all rights reserved.
A FEW WORDS FROM THE AUTHOR
Dear reader,
I hope you enjoyed the story. And you’ve probably realized by now—this isn’t the end. Just like the chess tale Instead of Thousand Possibilities, this one has multiple chapters. But as I said, I truly hope you liked it, and I hope you’ll stick around for what comes next.
Either way, I’d be really grateful for your feedback.
