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The End

-by Razas

The Thousand Year Chess Game

Click clack. The sound of light wood against light wood. A chess piece, white, moved to take a black piece. A pale hand moved the black piece to the side of the board.

Two men, neither really men, sat across from each other. One clad in pale grey robes, and the other wrapped in what seemed to be living shadow.

"It's been a while since we've done this," murmured the pale man.

"There's no one left to play with. It's not like I have much choice..." huffed the man in shadow. Sulfurous breath spilled from his lips. A taloned hand moved a black piece forward. "Check."

"True. You removed yourself from them. Why did you do that?" asked the pale man, moving his king away from the check.

"I needed power. They were in the way. I didn't have any other choice." The demonic man moved a piece forward, taking a white piece.

"There is always a choice. Like the one I made with you. Though you got out of control, I must admit," admitted the man in pale. A pawn moves forward. "Why don't you resurrect someone to play with?"

The demonic being shifted uncomfortably, studying the pieces on the board. "It wouldn't be the same. I already know what most of them are thinking. They're all mindless now...." The man in black moves one of his pieces forward rashly.

"And so that's what happens when you are nearly power incarnate. Tell me, how do you feel?" asked the man in the pale robes. The white queen moves forward.

"I feel fine. I'm fine. I'm practically a god now..." hissed the man angrily. Sulfur spilled from the demon's lips rabidly, though the pale man seemed not at all perturbed.

"No. No you don't. You have all mighty cosmic powers... and nothing to do," spoke the pale man calmly. "Checkmate."

The demonic being stared at the board, the trap all too obvious now. A taloned hand flicks out, and knocks over the black king. He put his head between his hands, burning eyes staring at the pale man.

"You planned this all along, didn't you. All of it."

"I didn't expect it to last this long, no. But yes, I did plan it. You were defeated the moment you started playing the game."

The demonic being sighed. "You're right. All this power, and I feel completely empty. I have dreadlords as servants, hundreds bent to my will.... but all I am is empty. You've won. So. Let's do this."

"Well, first we have to separate you two."

"What?"

The man in the pale robes reached behind him, and grabbed a large, black scythe. The initials G.R. are engraved on the blade. He swings from top to bottom, splitting the demon in half.

A man and an undead step out from the split, and look at each other. They are the same person, but two sides of the coin.

"C'mon. I'm taking both of you home now." The grey robed man swings the scythe again, ripping a hole in the air. He steps through the portal, and beckons for the other two to follow. They step in time, each one to his respective destination... a shout of "Daddy!" is heard, and seconds later the horrible screams of tortured souls start and stop suddenly.

The man in the pale grey steps out of the portal, and erases it with his scythe. He pats the demonic corpse slumped over the table on the shoulder, and walks towards the door.

"We'll play again sometime, don't you worry." The pale man walks out, a thin smile on his face. "Always time to play."

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