A big bang, the sound piercing through his brain, wakes him up. He didn’t dream, he didn’t move all night.

Loud speaking voices enter the room and walked over to him. With Kurt being barely awake and not totally aware what was happening, the men grabbed his arms forcefully and dragged him out of the room.

 Without any energy and will to struggle, he let himself be dragged. Looking like a rag doll being carried to a different place to play with. One man holding tightly to each of his arms.

The men speak on in a language he doesn’t understand. They don’t even seem to notice the man they’re dragging to the middle of the room just out of Kurt’s room. Feeling like this might seem last forever, Kurt looks around and tries to find out at least where he might be settled.

The celling is high and the room bares two floors. Just a small metal path with a low railing is separating the floors. Armed men stand everywhere. Guns popping out of their pockets or carrying them over their shoulders. They too, seem not to notice him.

The walls are gray and the floor as well. It seems that all the man are wearing gray too, but the gloom of the room and the tiredness of Kurt are so strong that he might be imagining this.  

There are no windows, rows and rows of hanging fluorescent lamps are all that lighten the room. Just a few doors similar to his own, maybe hiding more and more secrets he will never know. Somehow, the setting of the room seems perfectly; there aren’t a lot of hiding places, so a sneak-attack wouldn’t be possible and everything seems so visible. Plus, there are too many armed men standing in him or others way from a possible escape.

There are just two rooms Kurt has seen in this abounded warehouse, but he knows there is more. More guards, more guns, less chance of getting away.

Being so concentrated at the room and somehow automatically trying to work out an non-existing escape, he didn’t even realize the men had seated him into a chair and tied his hands and feet. He felt the fibers touching his skin. The raw, strong fibers of the rope itched annoyingly, but the more he twitched his hands, the more the itching turned into pain.

The two men who dragged him stood next to him, not moving and staring ahead. One man, not armed at first sight, stands there. With his back to Kurt and his hands on his back. He must be the leader of the guards. The nice clothes might give that away, but the shoulders standing strong, lifting his posture, gives the last hints to his position.

He stands there for a while, not moving. A big sigh emerges from him, and all of a sudden everyone stops talking. Men standing on a ladder on their way up stop and look at him.

“Do you play chess, mister Hummel?” He eventually says, still with his back towards him. His voice was calm, but his strong posture and the shadow he stood in made him look powerful.

“Seriously? He kidnapped me, shot my best friend in front of me and all he wanted to know was if I fucking play chess?” was all Kurt could think about.

Kurt was so angry and wanted to say all of this right in his face, but deep down he knew there were no right words to say here. So all he did was keep quiet, while his mind played all kind of scenario’s.

Anticipating an answer, he sighed again. This sigh was different, though. There was an amusement to be found in there. It was as if he enjoyed that Kurt didn’t answer. As he turned around Kurt saw the subtle smile on his face. He walked over to Kurt, put his hands on the rest of the chair looked him in the eye. Their faces were so close. His black hair, combed back tightly, his small, amused smile and the small scars on his face made him that more terrifying.

“Do you play chess, mister Hummel?” He asked again.

His dark brown eyes, dark as the night, pierced through him. Only even looking him in the eyes made him that much more scared, yet that much angrier.

Still, Kurt didn’t answer. He didn’t own him and by not answering his ridiculous question, Kurt somehow hoped he would prove him much braver than he actually was.

His smile increased and turned into a laugh. Other men also joined him. Before Kurt could realize what was happening, he felt his cheek burning from pain and blood filling his mouth. The punch of the man was strong, he certainly has done that before.

Laughing still, he stepped away from Kurt and started walking around his chair.

“The game is a lot like real life. Letting the weak go first, protecting the most important, yet most useless piece, scarifying in order of protection. Fighting a battle all your life. The problem is yet that you are played. You have things you can do, but someone else says what you have to do. Two control the rest. Two control the fighters.

I used to be a piece. But then I took control. I didn’t become the king. The king can only walk one step. He moves barely. Yet others die for him. People respect the king. I didn’t want respect. You can do nothing with it. I wanted all the power. So, I became a player. I control all the pieces. And my goal is to get the king of the opponent.

So, you must be asking yourself why you are here, right, mister Hummel? You are of great importance, yet so weak. You are a pawn. Nothing more and nothing less.”

He stopped in front of him. Not smiling. Just looking in his eyes with those killing eyes.

“You already fear me. I can see it in your eyes.”

He was close and Kurt couldn’t hold any more anger. Without thinking of the consequences, Kurt spat a mixture of blood and saliva right in his eye. This time, it was his turn to laugh.

It didn’t last long. Within seconds, Kurt fell, chair and all, to the ground, hitting his head hard on the concrete floor.

Everything got darker and darker. He heard men scream and sounds of panic filling the room, but this drifted further and further away. Until everything was filled with darkness.