Your House or My House

By: Warren P

A Game of Chess

The two men sat in front of the table, facing each other. Not one more focused than the other. On the left sat Vladimir, a long and lean man. His hand reached out towards the chessboard, sunlight reflected off his pale white skin, and his tall, slender stature cast a shadow that towered over the chessboard. His sharp cheekbones carry a set of dark pillows that lay dormant under two arctic cold eyes that could freeze everything that caught its gaze. The man on the right, his uncle, a Russian Grandmaster, sat in the shadow, away from the sun. The room was in deafening silence; the only sound was the setting of the pieces. The nervousness of the room was palpable as both men stared at the board, neither making a sound. However, the quiet ring of the wooden counter interrupted the silence and marked the end of the game. Standing up, his uncle stared long and hard at his losing side of the board and sighed as if he had lost the family's billion dollar empire. Vladimir stayed seated as he looked up admiringly at the artwork on the

the ceiling. Suddenly, the giant doors swung open and entering, was a tall, beautiful woman with a menacing air, her eyes cold and piercing as she burst through the door. The woman exudes an intimidating presence, with body language that demands respect and obedience. Vladimir stood up, his eyes locked onto the woman as she strode into the room. Something about this woman felt so familiar, but he could've sworn that he had never seen her. Vladimir's uncle stood there, head quirked, with the same confused expression but fearfulness underneath his visage of confusion. The woman paid no attention to the old man. Vladimir's eyes widened in fear as he recognized the woman. It was Florence, his step-sister, who had been kicked out along with her mother when they were six by their family patriarch, their Grandfather. According to the news anchor, she had been making quite a stir in the gambling world, yet here she was. Noticing the fear she had instilled in Vladimir, a wicked smile crawled onto her face as she continued towards the chessboard. Their locked eyes turned the once nervous room into an entire battlefield.

Check

Breaking the silence in a voice full of warning, he asked Florence for her name, but the woman ignored him, her gaze never leaving Vladimir's as she approached the chessboard. Tension filled the air as the two men stood frozen, waiting for her next move. The woman reached out her hand, revealing a small envelope, which she placed on the board. She then turned and swiftly left the room, the doors swinging shut behind her with a resounding boom. Vladimir took the envelope, his hands shaking as he tore it open. Inside, he found a single neatly written note. The message was simple but sent shivers up his back: "You will get what you deserve." The two men stood there speechless, and just like at the beginning of the evening, the room was deafeningly silent, but this time, it was because there were no words to describe what they had just felt.

The building they sat in looked more like a castle than a house. The castles housed all of Vladimir's family for the last 200 years. Vladimir had spent all of his life stuck within the confines of the gates, especially in the previous ten years, because of the Germans attacking everything. Despite all that, Vladimir loved his home and wanted to live here forever. About 13 years ago, Florence and her mom were kicked off this property. Florence, at a young age, had to give up many of her hobbies and interests, including chess, their family "sport." She could not fend for herself and her sick mom just by doing day jobs, so she resorted to gambling, and she was good at it. She soon made herself a name in the gambling world. Vladimir sat at the park bench in the warm sun, soaking in every moment of the outdoors and processing everything earlier. "What did she mean?" thought Vladimir. The park was the only place he liked outside the ten-mile radius of his home. The more he thought about it, the more confused he was.

Whoes Move?

He had so many questions; Florence getting kicked out wasn't his fault, so why was she out to get him? He had stayed as far away from the whole fiasco as possible. Out of nowhere, a tall figure with an all-black outfit with a fitted jacket and high heels appeared in front of him."Speak of the devil," murmured Vladimir under his breath. Vladimir asked Florence what she was doing here. Florence looked straight into the eyes of Vladimir, shaking his soul, and accused him of killing her mom. Vladimir looked shocked. He could not believe that he was being accused of such a malicious thing. Dumbfounded, Vladimir stood up. "Whatever happened to your mom was your own fault," said Vladimir angrily, "her death is on your hands." Florence laughed and said, "Let me have that beloved house of yours, and I will forgive you." Vladimir took one last look at Florence, shook his head, and left.