- Unedited -
A late night ramble, haven't had time to edit yet so the occasional typo/grammar error may be spotted.
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"Checkmate."
A small, soft hand darted forwards to push the ivory piece over one of the painted squares. The girl the hand belonged to grinned in delight, her blue eyes sparkling with the emotion.
Across the board, a boy glowered down at the board, eyes darting to and fro as they desperately tried to find some way to turn the game around, ignoring the fact that he was already beat.
"That's three this week. You're getting soft, Colt." She reached out to softly punch his shoulder, her voice light and her actions teasing.
He huffed and raised his gaze, a small shake of his head sending his wild dark locks tossing this way and that. "Am not," He protested.
She giggled, hopping to her feet and bouncing the short distance to him, punching his shoulder gently once more. "You owe me an ice cream," She reminded him.
He stood, grumbling to himself. There went his allowance. "Yeah, yeah. It's beginners luck, you know. One of these days, it's going to wear off, and I'll be beating you again." He warned.
She just giggled. "Right. Whatever makes you feel better."
Continuing to argue back and forth, the two started off through the maze like paths of the garden to find themselves an ice cream parlor.
Days passed, and the events repeated themselves more times than Colt would ever care to admit. It took years before Colt became better at the game and actually began to win every once in a while. But suddenly, he wasn't all that interested in beating ber any more.
When he had been caught up in the innocence of childhood, it had meant the world to him; but now that he had had some time to get his feet wet in the dark matters of the world, it was seeing her face as she announced her victory that lit his world. He looked forwards to their games more than he ever had before, and often found that the thought of her sweet grin was the only thing that kept him going through his dark days.
Slowly, their friendship grew into something more serious. The lengthy chess games in thee garden behind her house became secret drives in the middle of the night to avoid the unapproving eye of her father. Trips to the ice cream shop became formal dates at up class restaurants he really couldn't afford, but took her to anyways.
She was his everything.
And then... she was gone.
Because of him, of all things.
He could remember the day perfectly. It was ingrained deeply into his very being down to the sharp feeling of her last farewell, destined to torture him for forevermore.
It had started long before the night she actually left him, on one of their late night escapades. Colt had been behind the wheel, with her sat in the passenger's seat chatting away about how her day had gone. Her voice had cut off suddenly as he had yarded on the wheel and slammed on the brakes to avoid a car that had pulled out in front of them unexpectedly. The other car veered off the road and smashed bonnet first into a tree, but Colt hadn't been focusing on that. Instead, it was the dull think of her head bouncing off the side window that held his attention. Almost immediately, an unexplainable amount of pure rage filled him. Putting the car in park to keep it from running away from him, Colt reached a hand over to her and laid it on one of her hands, worry filling his eyes. "Are you alright?" He was quick to ask, a small amount of panic evident in his tone.
She nodded, wincing as she rubbed at the bruise already forming on her perfect forehead. The rage grew, and after a few more moments of making sure she wads alright, Colt exited the car to confront the other driver, who was yelling and swearing at them and standing over his wrecked car fretting.
Colt's fists curled as he approached the other man. Colt was considerably smaller than the other guy, but he looked to be drunk, and off balance due to it. "My girl is hurt because of you." He snarled.
The guy gave him a dumb look, taking a moment to comprehend Colt's words. "You wrecked my car!" He slurred.
That was it. The man didn't even /care/. This pissed Colt off further, and the next thing he knew, his fist was swinging through the air and connecting with the jaw of the man. "You hurt my gir!" He roared.
The man stumbled back, looking surprised for a split second, and then outraged. "You wrecked my car!" He slurred once more, louder this time. His own hands went into fists, and he took a clumsy swing.
Colt ducked it before it could do any damage, setting the man off balance. He kept his then, both fists going now as he battered at the man. "You. Hurt. My. Girl!" He emphasized each word with a heavy strike. The male fell, clutching his stomach with one hand and protecting his head with the other.
"You wrecked my-" he started to respond. Before he could finish and start to get to his feet, Colt was leaping on him and swinging with deadly intent. His fists met flesh again and again, and the blood of the man began to stain his knuckles. "You hurt my girl!"
The man didn't reply this time. But Colt wasn't bothered by that. He kept going, swinging harder and faster into each hit until he heard something crack. He had never felt such raw power. Some sadistic side of him enjoyed it, enjoyed the blood flying, the half lifeless look on the face of the now terrified man.
Before he could ride the pleasurable feeling any longer, gentle hands he knew so well were pulling him back, wailing for him to stop, to get off him, to get back in the car.
This was the first time he broke down, and most definitely not the last.
He grew more violent and easily upsettable, until pretty soon most people stayed away from him for fear of setting him off any paying the consequences.
She stayed with him through all of this, until that one fateful day.
It was the first time he caught the terror in her eyes when he began to yell at nothing in particular one night while they were supposed to be eating a quiet dinner in his apartment.
Her hands were clasped together in fear, her brows drawn and her lips turned down the slightest bit.
This scared Colt.
It sent him through a hundred waves of pain; and then... And then, it made him feel good.
And then just like that, he was mad.
"What are you looking at me like that for...?" He questioned. His voice portrayed all of his conflicting feelings. She looked away, and he pushed himself quickly to his feet.
She did the same, bolting out of her chair in one wquick movement and backing quickly away from the table. "C...Colt, I can't do this any more." She whispered. "What's happened to my sweet lover? You're becoming something else. And I... I don't like it." She whispered.
His head tilted to the side, his eyes going wide as he watched her.
"It's destroying everything, Colt, can't you see that?" She was sobbing now. This tore at him, and for a moment, he softened.
"This thing that you've turned into... I can't do it. I'm sorry, but I can't love this."
Now it was betrayal that seared through him, tore at him, leaving him both physically and mentally weak. She... She couldn't leave him. She was his everything. She was... His.
He started after her, stumbling and catching himself on the table. Their meal crashed to the ground with a loud clatter. She jumped and let out a scream she tried to stifle.
"No..." He said softly. And then louder, "No!"
Rage blinded him. Didn't she see that he wouldn't make it without her? He was trying to change, for her! But she couldn't see that, she was giving him up. His breathing started to go horribly uneven, escalating, and then dying down to nothing before doing it all over again. He started to mutter the denial to himself, shaking his head slowly in a repetitive motion.
She was moving faster now, bolting towards the kitchen where the door was. Her hand met the knob just as the murmurings grew almost to a wail, and then dropped off and left the apartment in an eery silence. Slowly, she straightened, trying to hold back the tears and she turned the knob. "I'm so sorry..."
She started to pull the door open when the sound she had heard only in movies before met her ears and made her freeze. The sound of a hammer pulling back.
Slowly, she turned, coming face to face with the barrel of a pistol she hadn't known he possessed. Another startled yell left her. "Colt," she whimpered. "Colt, don't do this. We can talk about this. Just let me go..."
He advanced until he was only a couple of feet away, the gun unwavering in it's aim. No longer was he breaking down, filled with the pain of her betrayal.
The monster had taken complete control now, and his face wore an awful smile.
Reaching forwards, he placed the cool barrel against her beautiful forehead. The one he had kissed so many times, stroked, loved... She was back to sobbing and pleading withh im , but he head none of it. All he heard was his finger tensing as he pulled the trigger, each click of the mechanical explosion that sent the bullet rocketing through the end of the barrel.
And the word, the single, painful word he found himself whispering.
"Checkmate."
