I - Checkmate
The bitter, brisk wind as sharp as Laura sliced her pale cheeks, but she did not move an inch. Her muscles refused to tremble. For the first time in nearly three years she was at peace. She gazed at the orange, autumn sky in amazement, just as she used to as a child. She looked at the basswood trees becoming more naked with every dropping dead leaf. It was so strange yet fitting that such a beautiful scene was based upon something so morbid.
Death. She was still standing silently over his lifeless body, soaking in the ambience of victory. Her favourite dagger, Marie, was still clenched in her blood stained hands. She new the police would find her, but she did not care. There was nothing left for her to do now. The walk to the prison would be her victory march. The court hearing would be her ceremony. Her cell would be her throne room.
Arianne reached into the inner pocket of her jacket and pulled out the list. she crossed out the final name and took a long, deep breath. She sat on the soft grass, looking out at the horizon, waiting for the cops to arrive. She faced the twilight sky, closed her eyes, and whispered, “Checkmate.”
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FOUR YEARS AGO
The St. Amy’s Summer Camp for Teenaged Girls was an annual, well-known four-week camp for girls across the country, and scores flocked there year after year. Arianne Watson, a sixteen year-old, had never attended anything of this sort before. Having been abandoned by her parents moments after being born, she grew up in a foster home all her life, which was quite devoid of fun opportunities that every child deserved. However, she decided that this year she would put a stop to the nonsense, and convinced her guardians to attend the camp, having saved up enough money to purchase all the necessary gear required for the camp, which was twenty-four hours away. She was brimming with excitement.
“Miss Amy Charles, I am certain you of all people are cognizant of the predicament that your... establishment is currently facing, having been unable to pay the rental fee for four consecutive months. My patience has officially been exhausted.”
“Mr. Fox! Sir, it’s been so difficult lately with the passing of my husband. There is only so much that I can do by myself, and the Camp is about to begin tomorrow! Please have mercy, think of the children!”
“There exists no place for empathy in the world of business I’m afraid, Amy. As the owner of this park, I expect rent to be prompt. As such, you will no longer be permitted to enter this compound, or carry out this camp, until your outstanding fees are paid.”
“But Sir! The camp begins tomorrow! How am I supposed to find the money by then? This is outrageous!”
“Well then, I assume you know what must be done. You have until the end of today to gather your belongings. Oh, and fear not about the camp, my workers will ensure that it runs smoothly in your absence. If I were you, I’d not inform their parents of your exile. It would ruin your image.”
“I... guess so,” muttered Amy. She slowly rose from her chair and exited Norman’s office, defeated. Norman Fox put his feet up on the desk and smiled contently to himself. He wore the face of the devil.
“Checkmate,” he whispered.