This story is by Emmi Shepard and won an honorable mention in our 2024 Fall Writing Contest. You can find all the writing contest stories here.
A creature with scarlet skin, a skull adorned with twisted horns, wielding a pitch fork. A cloven hoofed satyr, a possessed child, or a mythical trickster. All depictions of devils across the globe but the only demon Cassandra had known possessed the unearthly beauty of a morning star.
In two lifetimes, he haunted her, and in her previous life, she’d lost everything to his insatiable lust. But this was the twenty-first century, and millions no longer believed in the sun god, Apollo. His temples lay in ruins and no acolytes prostrated themselves before his effigy. Still, Cassandra knew, weakened as he might be, he was still a god. Immortal and more powerful than she could dream. There would be no room for error today.
The setting sun, filtered through a canopy of green, illuminated the cottage, and Cassandra’s eyes fell on the chess table tucked into an alcove that overlooked the mountain forest beyond. Eventually, her gaze turned to the golden-haired man lazing across her lap.
“Shall we play a game?” Cassandra asked.
Apollo’s eyes opened, a chuckle rumbling deep in his chest.
“Not tired of losing yet, my dear?” he asked.
Cassandra nearly drowned in the impossible depths of those blue eyes, but she looked away, faking her coyest smile.
“Well, my lord, you know how stubborn I can be.”
Apollo’s fingertips brush her cheek. The touch so tender, goosebumps ran the length of her spine, and Cassandra cursed the betrayal of her mortal flesh.
“How many losses will this be?” the god teased.
Cassandra waved a hand dismissively.
“Two-hundred and one,” she admitted, tracing the contours of his face with her index finger.
“But,” she reminded, placing a kiss on his forehead, “that just means once I win, you’ll owe me two wishes.”
This long-standing contest, only allowed by Apollo’s amusement, hadn’t been her idea but her daughters.
“Mom, we aren’t in ancient Greece,” Cassandra’s mini-me had said. “We can beat him.”
Cassandra had been reluctant, at first, but the seed of hope her daughter had planted had taken root and flourished. Entranced by the thought she and her child could live at least one mortal life without the gods interference was a tough dream to kill. And so, she’d entered into a pact with Apollo. For every one hundred losses, should Cassandra ever win, Apollo would grant her a wish. And after banking two wishes, it was time to pull the trigger on their plan.
“I’ve always loved your optimism, my love,” Apollo said, pushing himself upright.
He offered his hand, and Cassandra let him pull her to her feet and into an embrace. Warmth as live-giving as the sun and as tormenting as the depths of hell flooded her body. His grip was nearly too much to bear. When he finally released her, they crossed the room and took their seats opposite each other in front of the chess board.
Apollo, draped casually across his chair, was the picture of untroubled, but every muscle in Cassandra’s body burned, begging her to stop this foolishness.
“Ladies first,” Apollo gestured to the board.
“I hope you’ve enjoyed your winning streak, my lord,” Cassandra teased, careful not to let anxiety waver her voice.
Cassandra studied the board, pretending to contemplate her first move. But, in truth, she waited for the small electronic buzzer strapped just above her elbow to give her a move.
Far away, back in a cozy city apartment, Cassandra’s daughter sat behind a monitor, watching the game unfold via the miniscule cameras they’d installed near the chess board. Her daughter would feed the game’s state into some algorithm and let the AI play a perfect game for her.
The buzz came swiftly, a move encoded in morse code, bidding her to move a pawn forward two places. The game now set, Apollo played his opening move instantly. Back and forth, Apollo and the AI battled across the board, and the graveyard on either side of the board brimmed with fallen pieces.
Moving her rook into the check position, a tingle of hope boiled in her stomach while sweat pooled on her back. Apollo’s head lolled to one side, and he sat up, scrutinizing the board with more intensity than she’d seen. He leaned forward, hands on either side of the table, studying his next move. So used to him not even thinking before making a move, Cassandra was caught off guard, and the seed of hope bloomed.
The god hid his king behind his bishop, protecting it from the castle. Cassandra’s next move buzzed instantly, causing her to flinch. Her daughter’s excitement pulsed through each eclectic shock. Cassandra took hold of her piece, but Apollo caught her by the wrist, pinning her to her seat with a piercing gaze.
A rushing river of blood roared in her ears, and Apollo slowly slid the edge of her sleeve up her forearm. She yanked away, defensively, but it’d be easier to move a mountain. He pushed the fabric past her elbow, revealing the black, nylon band securing the buzzer in place.
The speed of a lightning bolt, Apollo ripped the band away, crushing the device beneath his iron grip. He clamped down on her wrist, drawing a whimper from her lips. Cassandra was certain the bones would snap.
“After everything I’ve done for you, you’d deceive me?” Apollo seethed.
He tossed the band aside and stood, dragging Cassandra across the board, scattering the remaining pieces to the floor.
“Who answered your prayers when your daughter lay dying in the hospital? And, now, you have the audacity to trick me?”
He shoved her away, and she slammed into her seat, a searing shock bolted through her tailbone.
“You want to play games with a god, Cassandra?” he asked, picking up the scattered pieces and rearranging them just as they had been only moments before.
“Then let’s play. But this time,” he held up a finger, “when you lose, I will revoke my blessing from you daughter.”
Apollo’s smiteful addendum stole any pleas from her lips and stomped her hope to dust.
“In one of your lifetimes, you will learn not to defy me. Now play.”
The board grew hazy under the deluge of Cassandra’s tears, and nausea and bile burned her throat. Endless nights sat beside her daughter’s hospital bed flooded Cassandra’s mind. Unending prayers to the universe to forgive Cassandra for whatever she’d done to deserve two lifetimes of misery and spare her daughter of her fault. And then Apollo appeared and cured her, under the condition Cassandra give him whatever he wanted. She’d raged against his ultimatum, but now she’d do anything to take back her ruse. There was no one to blame now but herself.
“Make your move, or I’ll kill her now,” Apollo said.
Cassandra lurched forward, nearly toppling half her pieces, and moved a remaining pawn to block Apollo’s bishop from checking her King. But the Knight poised to capture her King either way slipped past her terror stricken mind. Apollo deftly played his move.
“Check.”
Cassandra quivered, eyes closing. She’d delay the inevitable a few more minutes, but she couldn’t win.
Please, Cassandra begged silently.
A purple haze flooded her mind’s eye and behind her eyelids, the match unfolded before her. Every move and counter move Apollo would make to end the game in his favor. Dread curled around her heart.
“Punish me instead,” Cassandra begged.
“I am,” Apollo said. “Twice cursed now, Cassandra. You will lose your child forever.”
A puzzle piece clicked in the back of Cassandra’s mind, and relief rushed beneath the pulsating dread gripping her heart.
“Yes,” she agreed, opening her eyes, “If you sacrifice your Queen, you will win.”
Apollo clicked his tongue, cocking his head to the side.
“When will you learn, only I decide the fate of my Queen,” he said, moving his rook protectively before his Queen, unknowingly leaving his King open to attack by Cassandra’s single remaining pawn.
With trembling fingers, Cassandra moved the pawn, cornering the enemy King.
“Checkmate,” Cassandra whispered, barely able to believe the words.
It was over, it was finally over.
Apollo gaped in disbelief at the board, analyzing the board to find an escape.
But there was none to be had. Apollo flicked his King with a single finger, and the piece erupted into a cloud of dust.
“Two wishes,” Cassandra reminded him.
“One: You will never cause, directly or indirectly, harm to myself or my bloodline.”
Cassandra leaned forward, taking hold of what little power she held in that moment, not shying from Apollo’s insidiously quiet rage, holding up a pair of fingers.
“Two: You will remove your curse from my portents.”
***
The crisp mountain air soothed Cassandra’s battered lungs and bathed her flushed skin in a cooling embrace. She could finally breathe. Cassandra turned her uninhibited gaze toward the future, and her final words to the devil she’d beaten rang in her ears.
“You’ll live for eternity, Apollo. And you will live it alone.”
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