At some point I was going to enter the room, but then Lewis discreetly waved me off. I respected his wishes and stood watching, still wondering about the guest cloaked in red.
Later it was clear that Lewis was losing. What troubled me was the fear showing on his face with every move. It was unreasonable, not the kind of fear that shows in a game of chess, no matter what the price.
But the cloaked guest had another opinion. Closer to Lewis' seventh move the guest was laughing. "Tell me Lewis, what’s the most you’ve lost in a game of chess."
Lewis preferred not to answer. He looked certain to lose, but wanted to make the best of his last move.
"Say my name, Lewis." Said the guest in a mocking tone of voice.
Lewis said nothing, making his last move, which seemed to make things worse. Instantly, the guest moved his knight and said, "Checkmate."
Lewis shrieked in a silent way, unable to breathe properly. I wanted in again, but he waved me off again, nervously – I gathered I had to stay away, or I won’t be safe from the cloaked man.
Lewis pulled up the last drink to his mouth, which I later learned was poisonous – the kind of poison that strangely worked after the seventh sip – and gulped, glaring at the guest with a challenging stare.
"Don't worry," the guest says. "It won’t hurt. You will be dead in seconds."
Lewis' face was reddening and he appeared to be choking when he said, "I am sorry Wonderlanders. I failed you."
"Don't be hard on yourself," the guest stood up and patted him. "You were killed by Death himself. Like I said, I never lost a game of chess, not when my opponents played for their lives," his laughter escalated. "Of all those whom I appeared to and challenged with the game of chess, no one ever beat me; and I doubt anyone will. But to tell the truth, nothing feels as good as killing you."
"But you won't be able to kill her," Lewis clung to the edge of the table while on his knees, chess pieces rolling left and right on the floor. "I hid the pieces from my bones."
I shivered in place, watching my brother die, and listening to a man claiming to be Death itself.
And then the cloaked man turned and faced me.
In my mind I wanted to run, but my limbs were frozen. Even though he was an old man with a silly moustache, something inside me assured me that I was looking Death in the eyes.
“Don’t worry,” he brushed at his moustache. “I won’t kill you. Your time hasn’t come yet.”
I stood speechless and paralyzed with fear, clinging to the door’s frame.
“But when it does, I will come for you,” he craned his head closer. “And I will challenge you in a game of chess, and I will win,” he laughed proudly again. “What? Did you think it was the Grimm Reaper, some spooky guy with a scythe coming for you when your time comes?” he turned to face Lewis for one last time. “Rest in peace, Wonderland man," Death said. "As for Alice, I will settle for nothing than watching her burn in an eternal hell.”
Chapter 43
Tibet’s Autonomous Region
The storm ends the minute I finish the last sentence from Lewis Carroll sister’s diary. Even though, I don’t rise from underneath my coat yet. I’m not sure what I really read. The shock of reading this way outweighs the mystery of the storm.
Is the Chessmaster really Death? Then what does he want to protect himself from? And why does he want me to burn in hell?
And all aside, how can you kill Death?
My coat furls off by itself, and I feel the sudden chill of cold outside. The world around me is an endless whiteout; I can’t see anything before me. Propping myself up on my knees, the storm snatches the notes away from my hands and swirls them upward. The notes are swallowed by the thickness of white, but I am not worried. I know what I’ve read, and have memorized it.
So the Chessmaster killed Lewis Carroll? If so what’s Carolus doing in this world? Why did Carolus even bother to fool me into killing him earlier? So many unanswered questions. The one thing that seems clear to me is that Wonderlanders — and maybe humans — die playing a last chess game against the unbeatable Chessmaster.
Is that really how people die? Does the Grim Reaper give them a last chance in a game of chess? Who’d have thought?
Out of the silence surrounding me, I suddenly hear heavy breathing, but can’t see anything.
“Who’s there?” I inquire.
I wonder if it’s the Dude; that mysterious guardian of mine. Why does he do this, and who is he?
Suddenly a bloody hand slithers out of the thickness of white snow. A gloved hand, covered in blood, stiffening like a predator’s claws.
“Don’t worry, I’m not Freddy Kruger from Nightmare on Elm Street,” The Pillar pants, his head protruding out.
I let out a shattered laugh. “You’re alive!”