On the Wings of Hope: Prose by Prokhor Ozornin - HTML preview

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Gamer

The figure in a black as night attire, which has stopped reflecting shadow and absorbing light an uncountable by earth standards number of years ago, punched a chessboard with rage by its dressed in dark-red gloves hand, shaking all controlled figures. This game was lost. The king was defeated – one can even say that he has sent his own soul to the upcoming court of the Maker. And how incredibly useful for the game party this soul was! Animal cruelty, indescribable unscrupulousness, inhuman slyness, endless thirst for power and glory… and now all of this was in ruins! In the nearest future confidants of this dark king will leave him – some by leaving this mortal world as well and some by hiding in forgotten corners of their pathetic planet.

The black-and-red fire was blazing in the eyes of the Gamer, who has been recently sitting beside this mystical chessboard. He knew that he had broken the Law, he already knew that his plans wouldn’t come true. The Earth was lost – yet only for a while. “Others will come after me… and then we shall play again,” he reflected, walking to and fro about the room, waiting for inevitable Convoy, who was to put him in shackles and place up to the moment of the beginning of the Court there, where even controlled by him figures of mortals had been denied access long before the time of their own creation.

The game board, nearby which this figure was recently sitting, was now living its own life. Somewhere from its bottom and side surface, the light started coming more and more distinctly, flashing through small breaks and cracks, whose numbers were quickly growing – and the gray fog, that had surrounded black chess figures, was dissipating as if depriving them of its protection. One after another, black figures on the chessboard were turning into dust, falling under the feet of victoriously marching white ones. Without their king they had no more will for life – not in their earth world, in any case. Very soon, in the May of the forty fifth year, if we are to measure in time standards of mortal earth beings, these shining from a new inflow of powers white figures, which seemed to the Gamer and his king only several years ago as being so small, so insignificant, so easily disposable, will break through last lines of defense, setting up their flag over the heart of his, Gamer’s, city.

The figure in a black attire started to roar, vomiting tongues of dark flame, and stretched its hand over a game board, trying to sweep away in his final blow as many white figures from the board as possible – but claws of this hand have only powerlessly hit against the invisible barrier, which has surrounded the chessboard during these instants. The figure roared from pain, promptly shrouding its wounded hand in a gray fog, and took a step away from the chessboard.

“We shall come, we will return! We will be reborn in your souls once again…” it whispered when a burning, scorching, intolerable for her light, coming from warriors of the Convoy, rushed with them into the Hall of Fates.

The Red Army in the world known as Earth victoriously set up a flag over the Reichstag.

***

The ones gathered in this spacious hall were going to decide destinies of the mankind, which they have entrusted to themselves.

Everything was going as they would like it to be in many aspects. Members of long-subjected to them governments and heads of the largest banks and multinational corporations have been voluntary-forcibly faithful to them for a lot of years already, obediently executing given for them orders, because they perfectly knew that death is not the most dreadful of fates as punishment for non-obedience. Terrorism, that was encouraged and sponsored by them in territories of adjacent states, played for the benefit of these rulers. Chaos was their weapon and its keys were reliably hidden, as it seemed to them, in their own hands. Crisis, by which their controlled mass-media frightened residents of various earth states, had to become permanent, and, according to their plan, in a bowl of this great new confusion a uniform and universal earth religion has to be formed, designed to justify their, who were considering themselves as demigods, right to punish human flesh and dominate over human mind and spirit. This new religion, new world order, had to possess strong and proven by time roots – ones that will originate from precepts of the founding fathers of the revived empire of “true Aryans”. The king has died – long live the king!

Today’s agenda was directed to searching for methods of destruction of the remains of an essence of doctrines of true Prophets. Smiles wandered on their speckled by wrinkles faces, and their eyes looked somewhere up coldly and apart, as if in contempt. They were the gamers in what they called as the Big Game – a game for the future of their world.

***

The new gamer, which took the place of his lesser skilled colleague, who has managed to lose the game, which was starting so brilliantly by others, was standing behind other-world chessboard and moving figures. They, his pawns, who were thinking of themselves as masters of the world, were totally suitable for the fulfillment of his own plan, and qualities of their long dead souls considerably facilitated the management process. Black, as if weaved out of a thick web, threads, coming from the Gamer’s head to these figures on a board, continually hissed and stretched, transmitting mental directions and orders through them. Under their influence board’s figures obediently shuddered and moved in the desired by the Gamer direction. “We will return,” the new Gamer whispered, “as we promised. We shall still conquer this world of yours. We shall still win this game party. Our puppets are completely controlled by us, unlike yours, to which you have granted a free will and therefore have ceased to operate them directly”.

Overwhelmed by thoughts of own plans and ideas, the Gamer was walking to and fro about the hall, greedy exhaling tongues of dark flame. He desired to win a game party for this human world. His own life was at stake.

04.08.2017