NDAM Casefiles: File 1-The Awakening

When Travis opened his eyes, he blinked at how bright the room was. He sat up, groaning and massaging his arm.
“What…where am I?” Travis wondered. The room slowly came into focus. He was on a small cot against a wall. In the center of the room, an old woman, hunched over and wearing what appeared to be a white toga, sat at a plain white square table, a chess board set out in front of her. The only other color in the room was the black of the chess pieces and Travis’s clothing. Even the old woman’s hair was white. Somewhere, Travis heard what sounded like the ticking of a clock as seconds slipped by.
“Hello, Mr. Anderson.” The old woman said. Her voice was soft and slightly raspy, like someone getting a sore throat and on the verge of losing their voice.
Travis walked over to her. He realized he felt…numb. It felt like his whole body was asleep and he walked with a sort of limp. “Hello, uh…” Travis stood across the table from her. “Ma’am.”
“Imet. My name is Imet.” The woman smiled at him.
“Imet. As in the letters M and A?” Travis asked. His mind felt muddled, like someone had pressed slow motion on his thought process.
“Yes,” Imet laughed, “exactly.”
“Where are we?” Travis asked, looking around.
“Where do you want to be?” Imet asked him mysteriously.
“Not here. Where is here?” Travis inquired, getting slightly frustrated. The constant tick-tock of the unseen clock was grinding his nerves.
“We are in the White Room.” Imet clasped her hands in front of her, watching Travis’s reaction.
Travis fought back the urge to bang his head into the table and instead sat down. “I can see that we are in a white room. I see that. Why am I here?” Travis sighed.
“Now that is the proper question, Mr. Anderson,” Imet leaned back in her chair. “Where is so…meaningless when it comes to the White Room. When implies there is time, which there is not in the White Room. But why…now that’s the golden question.”
Travis inhaled slowly through his nose, seriously debating on the idea of elderly abuse right now. The old woman’s riddles were frying his patience. “Time…doesn’t exist, so why I am hearing the ticking noise?” Travis asked.
“The ticking is irrelevant right now. That is for another day. Right now you are in…for lack of a better term, Death’s waiting room.” Imet glanced down at the chess board. She moved a pawn forward. “It’s not your time yet, but I have an important lesson for you, Mr. Anderson. The first lesson is the Pawn, and the answer of why you are here.”
“I am…utterly confused.” Travis sighed leaning his head back in the chair.
“Then listen. You are familiar with chess, no?” Imet asked.
“I know the basics.”
“Chess is modeled after life. Now the standard human is nothing but a pawn.” Imet gestured to one of the smallest white pieces, which was surrounded by two black bishops, a white and a black knight, and a black queen. “The other pieces represent the Fey and the Children of the Night, the Angels and the Demons, the Beasts and the Shifters….there are so many, I can’t hope to name them all. All of them are magnificent, the most spectacular being the Dragons.” Imet fell quiet, as if holding a moment of silence for the beasts.
“Even I know Dragons went extinct long ago.” Travis stood up, shaking his head.
Imet smiled mischievously. “Don’t tell them that. There are things that are dead, Mr. Anderson, things that are alive, things that are neither dead nor alive… and things that only pretend to be deceased. Never assume something is anything unless that something told you themselves.”
“Your riddles are getting annoying.” Travis growled.
“Of course.” Imet said with a soft laugh. “You are, right now, a Pawn, Mr. Anderson. A Pawn and nothing more. However, even the smallest Pawn can change the tides of a battle. Observe.” Imet stood up and they were suddenly on a massive, life-size chess board. She stood by Travis and he smelled something that somehow seemed familiar, a scent he had not experienced in years that had become warped by time and no longer familiar. Travis watched as two pawns stood side-by-side. One Pawn moved forward, blocking the other Pawn from a Bishop. “Now, a descision must be made. No Pawn is equal to anything else on this bored. Pawns are inferior in every way. This Pawn can move forward and save itself from the Bishop, but in moving forward places itself in the path of this Knight. Or, the Pawn can stay in place and die, and allow the second Pawn the opportunity to take out the Bishop without putting itself in harm’s way. Life is a big game of chess. The only question a Pawn must answer is not ‘Will I die?’ but ‘How will I die’ and ‘When?’ This is what a Pawn faces. This is what a human faces. Because every human dies, that’s not an option. But a human can decide when they die, what they die for…who they die for. A human can decide why they die. That is your lesson.” Imet snapped her fingers. The pawn stayed in place, the bishop took the pawn, and the second pawn took the bishop.
“I don’t understand why it took all that to explain that one sentence.” Travis crossed his arms and Imet smiled.
“Are you ready to die, Mr. Anderson?” Imet asked.
“I don’t have a choice, I’m dead already.” Travis told her, turning away from the old woman.
“Mr. Anderson, you were ‘dead already’ 36 years ago. And yet here you are.” Imet touched his arm.
“What?” Travis turned back, brows furrowed in confusion. Imet laughed, and it sounded like thousands of bells and chimes.
“Are you ready to, Mr. Anderson?” Imet asked again.
Travis paused for a moment and shook his head. “No,” he said softly, “”no, I’m not.”
Imet smiled ag slipped ain and said, “”Excellent, because Charlie’s not ready for you yet.”
“Who is Charlie?” Travis asked, confused once more.
“You have much to learn. Remember, Mr. Anderson. Why…” They returned to the white room and Travis’s knees buckled. Darkness tugged at the corners of his vision and he slipped into unconsciousness, pain, heat and something else engulfing him.