Shades of Black and White by Mizzy

(aka: Why I Hate Chess)

The rows of black and white face you down, like a mouth. A mouth waiting to swallow you down, swallow you whole.

White moves first.

[E4 ... E5]

There's a challenging smirk thrown over to you across the battlefield. Across the clean-cut lines of destruction waiting to tie you up and make you fall.

[F4...D5]

A rebellion? The smirk changes, twists, belies to you the humanity beneath the sordid surface. Your opponent is arrogant. He thinks he can win. You know you can't.

[NF3...NC6]

Too obvious. You try not to let the worry cross your face. It's hot in here, or is that just you? A vision of a desert, making your tongue taste like ashes in you mouth, making your throat close in. A vision? Just clouded memories? Or the effects of that dark, brooding stare?

[EXD5...QXD5]

It's white's turn again. You're black, the colour of sadness. The colour of betrayal. White always goes first. White signifies good. In all likelihood you are supposed to signify evil with your harsh lines and sad colours.

[NC3...QE6]

They say hate isn't the opposite of love; rather apathy. Is evil not the opposite of good, the opposite of the all-conquering, all-triumphant side of light?

[FXE5...NXE5]

Is neutrality the true opposite of good? That is the thought that invades you, distracts you from the battlefield momentarily, pulls your mind away from the game.

[NXE5...QXE5+]

Convention. The conventions of society. It's damning having to class everything. Give everything a title. Judge people on that title.

[QE2...BD6]

You are sure your own heart is beating so loudly that he can hear it, across the short span that is the shock of black and white. It's pounding. It's a sure give away. You're going to be found out. Exposed as a cheat, as a fraudulent human being. Someone who doesn't deserve to live, to compete in the game of life.

[D4...QEX2+]

Your hands are slippery and a little bit sticky. The rational part of your brain that is not caught up on the barbed-wire twist of chequered blocks and binary-coloured figures tries to tell you it's sweat, but it feels like blood. Blood on your hands, blood on your mind.

[BXE2...BF5]

You're crazy. You don't know what you were thinking. You challenged a master, and now you will fall...

[BB5+...C6] [BA4...NE7]

Time blinks past. You heard once when you were young that time flies when you're having fun. This doesn't feel like fun. The lines on the board, they're jail bars. They'll enclose you. You cannot win against him. His carefully guarded expression, closed behind those dark holes into eternity, give you that message loud and clear. You cannot win, but you do not want to lose. The challenge has been thrown down and even against the master you will prevail.

[0.0 ... 0.0.0]

It's all switching. Switching so fast. Your heart pounds and you're in the desert again, no wtaer, dizzying heat that is spiralling and dragging you down.

[BB5...RHF5]

Mustn't lose. Mustn't lose. A mantra that runs through your head. You panic. you know you're panicking and it isn't enough to stop.

[BF4...BG6]

This is a battle. This is war. The adrenaline rushes through your veins but even now you know it isn't enough. It's never enough.

[NE2...NF5]

Good over evil, white over black. Or Good over neutrality. Good over freedom of choice? Choice. There must be another way. You must not lose.

Thud.

Your heartbeat echoes in the air, in the stillness.

You must not lose

[C3...RD8]

Perhaps he catches your glance. Perhaps he can feel the fire. Perhaps he remembers what it was like to be in the reverse position - a near no-one against a chess master. Then he shifts, and you wonder if you imagined it all. His face is a cool mask, showing none of the previous slight hint of terror.

[BXD6...NXD6]

You wish you had his confidence. You wish you were good enough for the game to be that arrogant. You wish you could make it so he couldn't win, but you have no choice, do you?

[NF4...BE4]

White will win over black. As it is written in the bible, in the stars. Rules set in stone.

[RAEL...F5]

Stones only breaks in fairytales, rules only in movies? He looks at you again. The match should be business but it's personal. Deadly personal. His eyes are on fire and he's burning you down, down. It's not the rows of black and white that is choking you, it's his hard glare.

[NE6...RF6]

A beat.

A pause.

His fingers clench around his target. You feel his cold hands round your heart, ready to squeeze.

[NG5...R6]

You wish you could just not lose, lose, like you always lose. Everyone knows you lose this game. You always lose this game, no matter how much you want it.

A beat.

A pause.

His brow furrows.

[NXE4...NXE4]

Pure silence.

Then he changes. Those dark eyes aren't holes, they're... changing. Thinking. Passive.

His mouth opens and he offers you a way to break convention. You smile. First real smile in months. He offers his hand, and you shake it; leaving the carnage behind. He shakes his head in mirth as you disappear, knowing how much the draw meant to you. Knowing how much breaking convention and letting neutrality win was the only way to not destroy you from the inside, like different shades of black and white.