Ron's death
Characters belong to Rowling and Ingmar Bergman
Ron looked around, bewildered. Things were bad. Seriously bad. Weren't things around here supposed to have colour? Weren't things around here supposed to be solid, come to that? Where was "here" anyway?
And just who was the tall, dark-clad, white-faced man, standing just next to him, staring at him with dead, emotionless eyes?
Uh oh...
"Who are you?" he shrieked.
"I am Death," the man said heavily.
"Have you come to take me?" Ron asked, his voice shrill with fear.
"I have already walked by your side a long time," the appearance answered with hollow voice. Ron considered this.
"Bloody hell," he whispered.
"That is a possibility," the appearance noted. Ron buried the face in his hands.
"No, I can't die yet," he moaned. "I've just started to live. I have hardly snogged properly yet! I'm too young!!!"
"Nevertheless..."
"Listen, you've got to give me some time. Just a few years. Isn't there anything I can do?"
"You have had what time was given to you," the white-faced man answered grimly, and Ron sagged in despair, but then Death frowned ever so slightly.
"Of course, there is always..." Ron pricked his ears.
"What?" The appearance shrugged dismissively.
"Nothing more than a formality - I advice you not to get your hopes up."
"Come on mate, out with it," Ron pleaded. The grim reaper nodded.
"It is my custom to let those in my care challenge me in a game of chess," he gravely said.
"Chess?"
"If you can beat me, you will have your life for yet some time." Ron looked at him, first surprisedly, then suspiciously.
"What's the catch?" he bluntly asked. The man's expression remained unchanged.
"That you will not beat me. You can choose not to play, if you wish."
"Not that fast, mister," Ron exclaimed. "I'm game!"
"Very well," the man said and stretched out his hands, both clutched around a small object. "Make your choice."
Ron tapped on the left hand, and was handed a white pawn.
"You got black," he noted.
"That's fitting, isn't it?" the appearance said with what - perhaps - was to be perceived as an attempt of humour. They sat down by the board and started to play. After a while, a grin started to form in Ron's face.