Chess Ghost Story

  This is a short story I wrote for all chess.comians. Enjoy!

   Unseen Opponent

 
    The old victorian home on Windsor St. was essentially a time-capsule. Unlived in for nearly a century, this pride of the local Historical Society was cleaned and maintained with such meticulous care it was, ironically, more livable than most modern homes.

     And I, the newest groundskeeper of the former-estate, was tasked with everything from mowing the yard to dusting the chandeliers. I was told nothing more from my supervisor than "Do your job and don't touch anything except to clean or repair it."

    It was my third day on the job and frigidly cold that winter day. I had a funeral to attend to earlier and was not able to do my duties at the home until that evening. I let myself in, did my rounds, and as I was walking through the study to the foyer, I saw a splendid chess board resting on a marble table by the cold fireplace. Pewter pieces of silver and gold, it was striking.

    The chessmen, of some Greco-Roman theme, were set in their proper spots, but peculiarly, one white pawn, the e-pawn, had been moved two spaces up. Fancying myself a chess player, I found it hard to resist the urge to "reply" to this move. I recalled my supervisor's warnings about not touching anything, but I scoffed and thought it unlikely that anyone would notice, or any harm could come from one move. So I played 1...e5 and went on my way.

    The next morning I returned to the home. I replaced some piping in the basement, patched up a cracked window in the master bedroom, and returned to the study to close the flue of the fireplace so no animals would enter during the winter months. It was then that I noticed, much to my shock, that white's D-pawn had been moved to d4. I clenched my hands nervously and looked around. I had been told I held the only key to the home and wondered how this was possible. Certainly someone else on staff must have entered before me and moved it. What were my other options? Curious as to what would come from it, I accepted the mysterious gambit and played 2...exd4.

    I turned to the fireplace to close the flue and I suddenly felt a chill. Somehow, the home seemed more silent than before. Ready to leave to attend to other matters I turned around and nearly wet myself when I saw that somehow, beyond all logic, there had been another move played: 3. c3.

    My heart raced as my eyes darted around the room, looking for something, anything. "Hello?" I called out. Only the muffled reverberations of my own, frightened voice were heard. I stared at the board for what must have been several minutes.

   It was just after midnight. I answered the call, expecting news of a dead relative or some emergency. But there was no voice. "Hello?" I called out. Silence. Not even the mild white noise of a landline. Dead silence. I checked the caller ID but it had some type of error message.

    I began to shake. Something compelled me and I snuck out of bed, got dressed and headed over to the home. I swear that as my numb hands struggled with the keys that cold night I felt a gaze through one of the nearby windows. Everything inside me told me to turn back, but I entered. I went to the study and with no more than a flashlight, I approached the board and played 3...dxc3.

    After my move, I stared around the room. My flashlight was no comfort as it cast strange shadows in the space, making every antique object seem unforgivably ominous. It was then that I noticed the oil painting above the fireplace - a bearded man, presumably a former resident, gazing down across the room. It was one of those paintings that seemed to follow you wherever you stood. But at that moment he was staring at me and the chessboard.

    I broke eye contact with the portrait and turned around. On the chessboard: 4. Bc4. I dropped the flashlight in shock. It broke when it hit the hard floor and I was left standing in total darkness, save for some faint moonlight seeping past the windows. After several minutes listening to my own heartbeat, my eyes adjusted enough that I could scarcely see. I could have run. I wanted to run. But something compelled me to stay.

    I grabbed a chair from across the room and sat down at the table. I fumbled in my pockets for a cigarette, lit it and made my move. 4...d5. At that moment I stared intently at white's pieces, expecting them to move. Was I crazy? I felt it. I sucked down that cigarette in a minute and soon another found its way to my lips. I knew I was breaking several rules at this point but how could I walk away from such a situation?

    I grew impatient as I waited for what should have been one of two obvious replies from my ethereal opponent. The tension was killing me. "Make your move!" I shouted, madly, my voice shaking the very walls. Nothing.

    I got up and walked toward the front door. Not two steps from it, I heard something. A clank. Did something fall, I wondered? I returned to the study: 5. Bxd5. On the floor lie my captured pawn. I picked it up and played 5...cxb2. Again, I waited. But this time, to my terror, I watched as white's bishop inexplicably slid to a fianchettoed position: 6. Bxb2. I removed my captured pawn from the board and set it aside. I reached for another smoke. It was going to be a long night.

The following position is where we were at about 2 a.m. It looked like it was going to be a long endgame and I had only two cigarettes left.

     It was getting later than I had been up in more than twenty years. My wife had called several times on my cell phone but I had ignored her. I offered my opponent a draw but I had no way of knowing if and how he might accept it. So I trekked on. Playing chess against an unseen opponent in the bitter cold of a dark, victorian home.

     An hour later, my opponent made several subtle blunders which gave me some much needed initiative, as I was down a pawn in the endgame. I found myself with victory at my fingertips at the following position:

       After I made my final move, I modestly called out checkmate. I waited. Nothing. I got up and walked from the table. It was time to go. As I approached the front door, I heard a low rumble in the house, a terrifying omnipresent thunder. I heard the chess pieces scatter across the floor, no doubt knocked from the board by my angry opponent. I ran. My heart thumped. I didn't lock the door. I simply got into my car and drove away.

  
 The next morning I received a phone call from my supervisor. The home had burnt to the ground in the night. The police had found some of my cigarette butts in the study, my flashlight on the floor. I know I did not cause that fire. Careless as I was, I was no arsonist. My opponent had taken the loss to heart and he took serious revenge. For as I write this I sit in jail awaiting court for something I did not do, but which I will likely be found guilty of. But I wouldn't take it back if I could. For how many people can say that they played the dead, and won?

Unseen Opponent © 2010 by Daniel Cailler

I anxiously await feedback.

great, I enjoyed it a lot :)

Thanks

so kul :)

Very good, sounds like Melville "Bartleby" where Bartleby could play chess. A bit depressing though :-)

That was excellent coming from the GhostNight, would make a great short movie on the "Twilight Zone", or the mystery channel.  keep up the good work, you definitely have a talent. I was able to visualized the whole setting, and it was chilling, why the hell did you have to drop the flashlight!!!!!   I like where you gave chess this recognition!!!!!!!!!!!

Thanks

Ghost stories and chess.  What a neat combination.

excellent, enjoyed it a lot

Nicely played, I enjoyed the consequences in the ending. Now I want to go get myself a gold-and-silver chess set.

I really like it man, you have a talent,  keep it going. Thank so much.

Thanks folks! I may brain storm and do another. I like the idea of a short story with interactive chess elements.

Yes, stories about chess are rare.  I have an old book, The Fireside  Book of Chess, selected & edited by Irving Chernev & Fred Reinfeld, that has some chess stories, plus other interesting things about chess. I recommend it, that is, if you can find one.  I did see one on Amazon some time ago. 

 Please do brainstorm and write another.  I am saving Unseen Opponent to read another time. 

Thanks. You know, I made that up on the fly in about an hour.

If you wrote this in one hour you certainly are not a stranger to writing, and if that be the case, I hope you cultivate and enrich it.  We chess players are starved for good chess stories. 

You could continue the story.  I remember seeing a photo, I think in one of these forums, of two men playing chess in prison.  The groundskeeper is innocent, so why not help him out of there so he can prove his innocence? For instance, his opponent and he could use their knowledge of chess strategies to plan their escape.

 I remember reading a true story of a prisoner of war that was able to escape, and since he had played golf, a friend of his was able to give him directions of where to go by using golf courses they had played on to guide him. 

I had a book about great prisoner of war escapes. One man was able to plan his escape  because the German guard rode a bicycle that made a clicking sound when the pedal hit the kickstand.  The guard was prompt one his rounds, so the prisoner could plan the timing of his escape down to the minute. 

I thought I would give your muse a jump start.

I have ideas...

 I agree.  I've been waaiting.

  I missed this the first time around.  Glad it resurfaced!

Any suggestions for a next one? Doesn't have to be a ghost story. No soft porn, though.