A Dream

A DREAM

The old man looked at me and said, "I am not the man trapped within a monster, but rather the monster trapped within a man." He laughed as he said this, like it was some morbid joke that was beyond my wit. My eyes flashed in the dim light and I remember squinting them to avoid his gaze.

"Scott. You know what this means, right? I'm talking about your decision." He looked at me in the eyes and he moved his hands to the chess board that stood between us. It stood like a wall. A frail wall of magnificent hope. One of my knights were felled and over half my pawns. 

I looked back at him through the dim light of the log-walled room, my hand moved to another piece and my queen took his king. He didn't see the hole he left. He looked up from the board back to me. 

"So go ahead. Be the prodigal son. Walk back to Him. I'll hunt you. I'll find you. The rest of your days. I'll be the whisper at your back when fear tears your heart open. I'll be there to watch you fall. I'll be there, young Scott. I promise." His aged eyes broke against the light that now filled my own. The chains that held my feet to the chair thus keeping me trapped here next to the board fell away.

At once, I stood up and looked to the man. I said nothing, but held his gaze. It was almost as if I was making an oath to myself and to him that I would never be here and this room again. As I turned and walked to the door, he said something else.

"You can't win, young king. I'll hang your crown on my own head one day." 

His voice etched into my ears and through my soul. 

"No, Baahl. You won't.