Chess

         "It's your move."

         Cassandra drew her jacket more tightly around her body as a brisk wind blew by.  "Aren't you cold?"

         The young girl sitting across the chess table from Cassandra shook her head, in spite of the fact that she had no protection from the cold beyond a t-shirt.  "Stop stalling.  It's your move."

         Cassandra bit her lip as she looked down at the chess board.  It was one of several stone boards set up in a small pavilion in the park.  Most were unoccupied today, due to the cold front that had moved in the night before.  There were a few players here and there; avid players, those who were here almost every day.

         Of course, Cassandra could hardly call herself an avid player.  Certainly, she enjoyed the game; that was why she came here.  But under ordinary circumstances, she likely wouldn't have come on a day this cold.  The reason she had come today was the girl sitting across from her.

         Alma was young; she looked to be about thirteen, though Cassandra suspected that she might be a bit older than she appeared.  For one, she spoke with a maturity and levelness that was uncommon in most thirteen-year-olds.  In addition to that, she was one of the best chess players that Cassandra had played against in this park.

         "Are you going to make your move, or do you give up?"

         Cassandra smiled, looking over the board again.  As usual, she was losing.  In fact, she hadn't ever won against Alma, even though she had a good eight years of age on the girl.  No matter what strategies Cassandra attempted to use to defeat the young girl, Alma was always one step ahead.  Cassandra gave the board one more good look-over, then reached down and moved her knight.

         Alma clucked her tongue.  "Interesting strategy.  You sure you want to do that?"

         "Shut up and make your move."

         Alma smiled at Cassandra's comment, and Cassandra smiled back.  Cassandra held no animosity towards Alma for being so much better than her.  In fact, it wasn't really the chess games that kept bringing her back.

         Alma was, by far, one of the most interesting people that Cassandra had ever met.  She was an extremely intelligent young girl, something that went beyond skill at chess.  Cassandra often talked about her college classes, and Alma seemed to easily grasp those advanced concepts.  Alma often brought up interesting (and sometimes rather dark) philosophical topics - like the existence of the soul.

         Another motive existed that kept bringing Cassandra back every day to play Chess with Alma.  She suspected that the young girl was living on the street.  She often would show up several days in a row in the same dirt-encrusted clothes.  She also carried a large shoulder-bag around with her, and Cassandra worried that that bag might contain Alma's entire life.

         Cassandra wanted to help her, but Alma had not once asked for help.  In fact, she had never made any comment to imply that she was in any kind of trouble, and Cassandra suspected that the intelligent young girl might be offended by an offer of help if it wasn't made in the right way and at the right time.

         But Cassandra had seen the deep circles under Alma's eyes, as if she hadn't slept in days.  She had seen the look of hunger in Alma's face, as though she were half-starved.  And yet, Alma always turned down even the most innocent offer of food, claiming that she "wasn't hungry."

         Today, she hoped she could get some answers.  Alma had told Cassandra that she wanted to talk to her today.  Alma had known that the cold front was coming in, and Cassandra suspected that she had chosen this day to broach the subject because she knew that the park would be mostly deserted.  Fewer fellow chess-players meant fewer listening ears.

         "So." Cassandra watched as Alma studied the board.  "You said you had something you wanted to tell me?"

         Alma didn't look up as she answered.  "Nevermind.  You won't believe me if I tell you anyway."

         Cassandra did her best to look pained at the insinuation.  It wasn't hard; she didn't even have to fake it.  "Come on, I'm your friend.  We've been playing chess together and talking for over two months now.  I know you aren't an ordinary girl.  Tell me.  I'll believe you."

         Alma looked back down at the chess board, but she clearly wasn't planning her next move.  She was contemplating whether or not to share whatever it was she wanted to share with Cassandra.  Finally, she looked up, giving her friend one of the most serious looks that Cassandra had ever seen on her.

         "I'm a vampire."