Slipping into my old, rusted Beetle, surrounded by tall pines, I see the parking lot through the cracks from where I sit in the driver’s seat. Listening to the forest's nightly song, I lean back in the worn, patchwork leather seats and take off my mask. I set it down on the passenger-side floorboards.

‘Thirty more pieces to add to the board.’

The low growl rumbles against my eardrum, making a shiver roll down my spine.

“It’s interesting,” I mumble, “Why would he want us to gather the pieces now?” I gaze out into the night, watching the moon slowly crawl across the empty sky.

‘As of late, the hunger grows.’

“Grand, does this mean we have to hurry?” I grumble, sitting up a bit on my elbows.

‘No, but I must ask.’

A sharp talon slashed across my arm before gripping my throat. Gasping, I grasp the clawed hand with my gloved hands as the moonlight starts to fade.

‘I marked the Bishop, had you marked the Knight?’

“Wait, what?” I wheezed. “I thought you marked him, you tore him apart.”

‘I tore him apart, you left.’

Dammit Rhys… you're going to get me in trouble,” I grumbled, nails digging into the back of my neck. “We need to get back in there.”

‘And where do you two think you're going?’

My eyes widen as another commanding voice reaches me, causing the sharp pins of Rhys to fade from my neck and become weightless. The leather seat behind me disappears, heat rises from my face, and my vision blurs as everything spins—cold air swirls around the back of my neck like smoky tendrils. I clutch the edges of my pants tightly, knuckles turning white.

I don’t speak, my mouth dry as a low chuckle drifts into the darkness. Below, my eyes land on the chess pattern. Clenching my teeth, I can hear my heart racing in my ears as I scan the board. The Bishop sits unmoved in her spot, her eyes gray, her once-youthful look now duller, more like that of a lifeless doll than a real person.

‘Now, explain to me why the Knight has yet to appear?’

“It was an accident, sir, I had thought— Agh?!” Smoke gripped my throat, lifting me off whatever inviable box I had been standing on.

‘You’re not supposed to be thinking, boy, just do as I tell you.’ They pause, tapping something out of sight. ‘Unless,’ they begin again, tightening their grip on my throat. My fingers pass through the smoke, wafting it into the air, yet the grip never loosens as their voice grows harsher against my ear. ‘You wish to join the game.’

As my vision blurs, a dizzying rush of water fills my ears; my hands fall to my sides, swaying like a marionette losing its strings.

When I awoke, gasping for air, clawed hands grabbed my face, turning me away as the forming lump in my throat made my body lurch forward, and sadly, before I knew it, a stream of crimson poured from my throat and onto the passenger floor. One hand on my back, the other rubbing my throat.

‘Guess we're not returning the rental.’

“No shit…” I coughed, pushing up a bit. “He is pissed; we have to go mark the Knight.”

‘We can’t.’

“And why—” I look around, realization hitting me like a bus, the early morning song making me grip the edges of the seat. Getting out, I fling the door open and move to the nearest tree, the splashes of reds and blues flashing across the bark. "No..." I whisper as a cruiser without its lights passes me. Taking a step back, I grip the front of my robes tightly. “No no no...” I stumble back toward the beetle. Closing the door behind me, I bury my face in my hands. “What are we going to do now?”

‘The only thing we can do. Follow the bodies.’

“Fucking hell…” I grumble, leaning back as my body slides down in the seat, my legs folding as I stare at the ceiling. “How much of a headache is this going to be on a scale of one to ten…” Closing my eyes, I let out a ragged breath, still gripping my right pant leg tightly, knuckles white.

‘Let's let it all play out…’

“Fucking grand… Thanks for the help, darling.” I sigh, sitting up and pulling the keys from the visor, then putting them into the ignition. After some careful driving, we leave the forest.