The room is filled with arguments and anger that filled along with it. I reckon that no other experience of mine could prove that the age could make some people grew furious. The good old ben shouted at the staff because that they didn’t cook according to the menu. He claims that it disturbs his day.
While I watch him mumbling little Italian, a square-bearded man blocked my view. He began to watch our game closer,
“You play really good, sir…” He said.
“I do…” But I could see that he wants to buy my attention.
“I’ve heard that you knew me…” he looks at me from the game, “I want to know how…”
“Is this one of Ben’s jokes. If so, tell him that it is lam…”
“It isn’t. I…” He got interrupted by the words, “He’s here,” uttered from a rushing short man.
A few instants made me realize that I actually saw a revolver tucked inside.
They sat few places away yet I could still hear them. It had been a while that I missed at being an audience. To be anxious as to how the story might unfold rather than to be an old man playing chess with an amateur.
After few minutes, a loud explosion shattered our building. The chessboard fell over and everyone except the Bishop and King stood on their feet. After a few inquiry, I found there had been a bombing in the neighborhood.
“You look a little nervous, boss..” The bearded guy said to the guest.
“We are supposed to be in that building…” The bearded guy says that he changed the venue at the last minute.
“You saved us all…” The guest continued, “well, this ain’t the first time…”
“Funny thing is that you always forget that your mail goes through me…” Beard pointed the revolver at the Guest. The short man took care of the excited young guard, who had played the chess a while ago.
“What are you implying…?” The guest found his lost voice.
“I don’t. The mail mentioned an address and says that to be beware of 15:40…” The beard continued, “I only tampered the message on the clock hour and now, you walk in here being upset that I wasn’t dead… “
“You don’t understand….”
“All these years of wasted loyalty on the wretched souls…” The beard raised to the revolver to the Guest’s heart.
“Bishop, I wasn’t going to kill you… Just for few…” Two shots were fired and the silencer worked perfectly.
I watched the murder in horror and into the eyes of Bishop,
“Well, you will never forget me….”
-Thank you for reading…