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Description
“How about another drink eh?” he said already pouring another glass.
“Sure ill go a round, you up for another game?”
“Depends…”
“On?”
“On weather or not you feel like losing again!”

The first man, the man with the drink, was of pale complexion, medium built and dressed in dark gray jeans and a white shirt. His hair was straight, a few inches long and brown, so brown it might as well have been black. He had a few tattoos, but they were generally unseen, and he always wore a silver necklace, which was of a dragon wrapped around a sword. His eyes were brown, but turned gold when hit by the sunlight, and he always looked at you with a piercing gaze, like he was seeing right through you, and into your soul.

The second man had a darker complexion than the first, heavy set, and was usually seen wearing blue jeans and various shirts, but no one knew, he usually wore a big black overcoat that covered it all up. He was a bald and bearded man, like a modern version of that one short, big, and strong guy you would take with you on adventures in stories about the middle ages. His hair was black, and his eyes seemed to have seen far too much more than any man should ever have to witness.

They were old war buddies; fought side by side behind enemy lines. When they were both given the option of special ops training they couldn’t resist. It was easy, well passing the course at least; they knew this job was what they were best at, and liked it that way. They did a few jobs no problem…then there was Russia.

There was a terrorist group forming that was beginning to worry world leaders, and they were the solution. Everything was going smoothly, and their presence remained unknown. Disguised as terrorists they knew it’d be safer if they kept together, but in doing so they wouldn’t have been able to cover enough ground in time, and decided it best they split up. “ Shane, you get the left and ill take the right.” Said the bearded man. They did so. “ nothin here.” Shane whispered, and as he turned back down the corridor it happened…the bearded man had been identified. It didn’t matter how; the fact was they had him. Unfortunately their target happened to have great connections with leaders around the world; they were lucky to be alive. They left their mission and escaped…barely. Now he was just trying to lay low until everything cooled down. That was a month ago, and even though this life in fear was a tideous one Shane had spoken with headquarters since then and things were seemingly getting better.

Both men sat down. The table was small, the kind of table that you would immediately know to be handmade. They were set in a small dark room lit by a single candle sitting in the red brick fireplace next to them. The walls were decorated with various old pictures of times when they were together, countries. The fireplace seemed too used to burn anymore, and there was a blackened window that apparently had felt the heat of flames before. The only objects in the room that seemed to be of any use at all, were the table on which they sat, along with the game in which they played by the small glimmer of light from the single candle used to light the room. In fact there really were other candles in the room, but they were apparently unnecessary; the two men seemed complacent enough with the dim.

The game they were playing was similar to chess, but only in the aspect that the board seemed the same. It was nothing like chess. In Every move existed a maze of its own, and the tables were turning constantly. Strategy may have played a large part, but no doubt was luck just as big of an advantage. The player only had one piece, and would work his way across the board towards his opponent, however, (as I said before) the game was a maze. After each player engaged in their respective turns, the maze changed and a new strategy put into action. Sometimes they would get lucky, and their turn would lead to a checkmate, but this chance did not come often; one had to work around to understand the patterns of change, and eventually win the game.

They played for hours, like a miniature version of cat and mouse. Chasing after one another and evading attacks; both players consumed by thought. Drink after drink; move after move the game lingered on. They became frustrated. Screaming insults and making false claims on how fair the game was. After gaining the lead Shane kept it for a long time.“ wha?! How?! Can you do that? “ Said the bearded man in a mixture of amazement and confusion. “ there are such things as skill my friend.” Said Shane in a calm and confident tone. “ Ah piss off and get on with it!” said the man annoyed with his pride. The battle intensified, and both men were of equal advantage. Then it happened, the game changed. Shane had moved in for the kill but fell short. Then even though Shane tried to evade it the bearded man attacked, and unfortunately, being vulnerable as he was, there was nothing he could do. Shane lost. The game was over.

“Ha!” said the man. “And you said I was gonna lose!” he was jumping with enthusiasm.

“Ah forget about it. Here’s your winning money you drunken bastard…” Said the Shane, seemingly unwavering in emotion even after losing their battle of wit. “I should be going…its almost dawn.” Silently, He put his glass down on the fireplace, next to the candle, and poured some powder into it for unknown reasons. Then walked out of the house to meet and say goodbye to his old friend.

“Well it was good seeing you.” Said Shane to the man. “ It’s a shame that you took all my money though!”

“Ah, I thought you had me beat anyway, there’s always next time” said the second man in a cheery voice

“Yeah…next time.”

The men shook hands and said goodbye, and Shane drove away. He was just far enough to feel the wave of pressure surging as the small house behind him burst into flames… “Sorry old friend,” he said to himself. “ It was just a job; you just happened to be my target…no hard feelings…I guess you just ran out of luck…”

With these thoughts he drove off into the night…never dwelling on the fact that he’d just liberated his best friend from this hell…tomorrow was a new day…

Description
“How about another drink eh?” he said already pouring another glass.
“Sure ill go a round, you up for another game?”
“Depends…”
“On?”
“On weather or not you feel like losing again!”

The first man, the man with the drink, was of pale complexion, medium built and dressed in dark gray jeans and a white shirt. His hair was straight, a few inches long and brown, so brown it might as well have been black. He had a few tattoos, but they were generally unseen, and he always wore a silver necklace, which was of a dragon wrapped around a sword. His eyes were brown, but turned gold when hit by the sunlight, and he always looked at you with a piercing gaze, like he was seeing right through you, and into your soul.

The second man had a darker complexion than the first, heavy set, and was usually seen wearing blue jeans and various shirts, but no one knew, he usually wore a big black overcoat that covered it all up. He was a bald and bearded man, like a modern version of that one short, big, and strong guy you would take with you on adventures in stories about the middle ages. His hair was black, and his eyes seemed to have seen far too much more than any man should ever have to witness.

They were old war buddies; fought side by side behind enemy lines. When they were both given the option of special ops training they couldn’t resist. It was easy, well passing the course at least; they knew this job was what they were best at, and liked it that way. They did a few jobs no problem…then there was Russia.

There was a terrorist group forming that was beginning to worry world leaders, and they were the solution. Everything was going smoothly, and their presence remained unknown. Disguised as terrorists they knew it’d be safer if they kept together, but in doing so they wouldn’t have been able to cover enough ground in time, and decided it best they split up. “ Shane, you get the left and ill take the right.” Said the bearded man. They did so. “ nothin here.” Shane whispered, and as he turned back down the corridor it happened…the bearded man had been identified. It didn’t matter how; the fact was they had him. Unfortunately their target happened to have great connections with leaders around the world; they were lucky to be alive. They left their mission and escaped…barely. Now he was just trying to lay low until everything cooled down. That was a month ago, and even though this life in fear was a tideous one Shane had spoken with headquarters since then and things were seemingly getting better.

Both men sat down. The table was small, the kind of table that you would immediately know to be handmade. They were set in a small dark room lit by a single candle sitting in the red brick fireplace next to them. The walls were decorated with various old pictures of times when they were together, countries. The fireplace seemed too used to burn anymore, and there was a blackened window that apparently had felt the heat of flames before. The only objects in the room that seemed to be of any use at all, were the table on which they sat, along with the game in which they played by the small glimmer of light from the single candle used to light the room. In fact there really were other candles in the room, but they were apparently unnecessary; the two men seemed complacent enough with the dim.

The game they were playing was similar to chess, but only in the aspect that the board seemed the same. It was nothing like chess. In Every move existed a maze of its own, and the tables were turning constantly. Strategy may have played a large part, but no doubt was luck just as big of an advantage. The player only had one piece, and would work his way across the board towards his opponent, however, (as I said before) the game was a maze. After each player engaged in their respective turns, the maze changed and a new strategy put into action. Sometimes they would get lucky, and their turn would lead to a checkmate, but this chance did not come often; one had to work around to understand the patterns of change, and eventually win the game.

They played for hours, like a miniature version of cat and mouse. Chasing after one another and evading attacks; both players consumed by thought. Drink after drink; move after move the game lingered on. They became frustrated. Screaming insults and making false claims on how fair the game was. After gaining the lead Shane kept it for a long time.“ wha?! How?! Can you do that? “ Said the bearded man in a mixture of amazement and confusion. “ there are such things as skill my friend.” Said Shane in a calm and confident tone. “ Ah piss off and get on with it!” said the man annoyed with his pride. The battle intensified, and both men were of equal advantage. Then it happened, the game changed. Shane had moved in for the kill but fell short. Then even though Shane tried to evade it the bearded man attacked, and unfortunately, being vulnerable as he was, there was nothing he could do. Shane lost. The game was over.

“Ha!” said the man. “And you said I was gonna lose!” he was jumping with enthusiasm.

“Ah forget about it. Here’s your winning money you drunken bastard…” Said the Shane, seemingly unwavering in emotion even after losing their battle of wit. “I should be going…its almost dawn.” Silently, He put his glass down on the fireplace, next to the candle, and poured some powder into it for unknown reasons. Then walked out of the house to meet and say goodbye to his old friend.

“Well it was good seeing you.” Said Shane to the man. “ It’s a shame that you took all my money though!”

“Ah, I thought you had me beat anyway, there’s always next time” said the second man in a cheery voice

“Yeah…next time.”

The men shook hands and said goodbye, and Shane drove away. He was just far enough to feel the wave of pressure surging as the small house behind him burst into flames… “Sorry old friend,” he said to himself. “ It was just a job; you just happened to be my target…no hard feelings…I guess you just ran out of luck…”

With these thoughts he drove off into the night…never dwelling on the fact that he’d just liberated his best friend from this hell…tomorrow was a new day…