A Chessmaster and his Game

*click click* went the mouse, selecting the images of its owner on the desktop and preparing to put them into a collage.

Jackson McCard, a twenty six year old man who abandoned his homeland of America with his lottery winnings and fled to Europe, stopping first at Belgium to pick up some chocolate, waffles, and an FN5.7 pistol, then moved on to France to live in peace.

Running his fingers through his almost-black-it-was-so-dark brown hair, standing and stretching out all six feet of his body, running his hands over his scrawny torso and thin arms, sitting down and going over his legs, giving his size fifteen feet a loving squeeze, then up to rub his jade green eyes free of any bits of stuff stuck to them, and lick his lips past his less-than-healthy teeth. He began shivering at the rush of sensations he was feeling, and was just generally loving the body that nature and his family gave him.

He turned from his computer to the rest of his decent sized home, only a few things were hung up on the bland walls.

A portrait of Napoleon Bonaparte, because why not? Plus it was here when he moved in, so YAY FREE STUFF. A few caricatures he had paid to be done by a few people he had met earlier in life. A photo of him and his friends all lined up.

His friends, he hadn't heard from them in a long time, he walked over to the picture and looked at it directly.

His friends, his sister Jamie, cousin Evan, and the other four, Kevin, Arin, Curtis, and Dalton, it was a photo of them before he had fled America, he had offered them to join him, but they kindly refused his generosity and remained at home in the states.

The tall man had given his cousin Evan a few thousand dollars to help him along the way, and he reportedly upgraded his gaming setup and put the rest away.

The last message he had gotten from the group was from Jamie, who said "You really need to check out this show, it may not seem like much but it's really good."

He never replied to that message. He never clicked the link. He didn't trust links, not now and not ever.

"Eh, I should probably go for a jog, which means putting on some clothes, alright, let's see, shirt, hoodie, and jacket, because it's really fucking cold outside, and some nice thick pants, and shoes, alright," he listed as he began dressing.

Covering his svelte form with a 'Just one more level...' t-shirt, then covering that with a thin, powder-blue hoodie with the Assassin's Creed logo printed on the front and dragon wings printed on the back, then covering that with a Master Chief jacket, which he had commissioned to be treated with fire-proofing for some reason, it may have been during that one time he got drunk.

Putting on a thick pair of skinny jeans, since they were the only things that fit both his waist AND legs, then his red Converse sneakers, he was ready to go out for a good jog.

*KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK* came at the door, followed by said door being violently busted open, a tall, regal-bodied man standing behind it.

He stepped in after magically adjusting his height, and his visage startled Jackson.

It was almost a perfect copy of him, but the hair was fully brown, the eyes were a brighter color, and there was no jacket over the hoodie, but that last one wasn't important.

It was the Player, the insane god-figure that Jackson had made up in his youth.

This being, Lord Player 1, or Lord P1 for short, was almost exactly like Jackson, except he was insane and did what he wanted simply because he could, and he could because he was a god with godly powers.

A visible surge of bloodlust ran through the deity's oddly cartoonish eyes, signaling Jackson to do a quick tactical dive away before his comfortable chair was obliterated into smoke.

Grabbing his steel riot shield, and the sabre he had used as part of a cosplay outfit he had never finished, he faced the insane god with a look of fear and determination in his eyes.

"Oh come now, friend, we shan't fight, I am here to tell you that I am happy," the gold-winged avatar said, ignoring Jackson's FN5.7 pistol being aimed at him.

"Happy for what? That you're actually real and your here to claim our virgins? Because this is France and I don't think anyone above the age of fourteen is a virgin," Jackson sarcastically joked, nervously laughing while P1 burst out in wall-shaking guffaws and chuckles.

When he finally calmed down, he said, "Alright, so, I'm bored, I want you to be in Equestria, and my will be done, so..." he trailed off.

A blinding flash of light exploded right in front of the armed man, causing him to shout in pain and shut his eyes tight.

*(sounds of metal hitting stone, weapons being unsheathed, bowstrings being drawn, and magic flaring up)*

"Ugh, what the hell?" he groaned, his eyes quickly adjusting to the new, much dimmer light.

"Who are you? What are you doing here?" a feminine voice interrogated.

"Attendez, pute, maintenez vos chevaux, j'ai mal à la tête comme merde dès maintenant," the man complained in French, putting away his sabre and shield and rubbing his eyes.

"You will show respect and talk clearly when speaking to royalty, you two-legged whelp," a different voice rebuked, this one masculine and sounding like a surfer, shortly before the tall man was prodded with a spear.

"Alright then, hold on, bitch, hold your horses, my head hurts like shit right now," he clarified, groaning as he rubbed his temples to clear the haze that the flash of light had brought.

"You HEATHEN, you dare speak of ROYALTY with SUCH LANGUAGE?" another male voice said, prodding him several times with a sword.

"Oh shit, am I in the medieval times or something?" he asked, before the haze cleared from his vision suddenly and he was face-to-face with a white coated horse.

"GAH! Back up, go on, get away from me, shoo, WHO LET THIS THING INTO THE THRONE ROOM?" he called out, not sure if his assumptions were entirely correct.

"I let myself in, I am the guard captain, I may come and go, to and from, at any time, in relation to this room and any other room in the castle, as I may please," Shining Armor informed, suppressing his anger at being called a 'thing'

"GAH! It talks! Okay, P1 was right when I told him he was insane, now I'm in a place where horses talk!" Jackson shouted in nonsensical connection of entities and events, looking up at the ceiling as though it would provide him with some sort of enlightenment.

"Calm down what I'm assuming is a sir, your random bouts of emotional turmoil will not make questioning you any easier," Celestia instructed, trying to limit this two-legged thing's movements with her magic.

"Okay, I'm calm, I lived with a mad god in my head for seven years in my youth, I can handle this talking-horse-place," he assured himself, taking a few deep breaths.

Everything was calm for the moment, "Okay, so, I'm assuming you're a miss, so, Miss talking-horse-thing, where am I and what are you, because I'm sure that 'talking-horse-thing' is at least minorly offensive to you and these other ones," he asked calmly, keeping his weapons in less than a second's reach of his hands.

"I am Princess Celestia of Equestria, Equestria is the country in which you now stand, it is the land of the ponies, which is what I and my subjects are. Now then, please, state your name, rank, and intention.

Jackson smiled, "The Doctor, doctor, fun," he listed, keeping his self-control strong enough to only letting out a few small chuckles.

"This isn't a game, you beast, you should show respect to she who raises the sun," Shining threatened, raising his halberd ready to strike.

"Raises the sun? Why, I'd say that was impossible or my name isn't Jackson McCard, human of the planet earth," the tone in the throne room immediately changed when Celestia rose from the throne itself, her mane turning from pastel stripes into pastel streaks of fire and hate.

A miniature sun formed in front of her, turning from a cheery yellow into a frightening crimson, before sending out a wide and mighty beam of hellfire to destroy the human.

Jackson braced for impact, saving his eyes from more light-based torture as he was painfully teleported somewhere else.

The guards were shocked, but only Shining Armor had the courage to say anything, "Permission to speak, milady," he requested nervously.

"I know what you're going to say, and my response is that I know what humans are, and I will not have one of them in my kingdom," the princess answered in a morbid tone, her mane returning to aimless billowing stripes of color.

"Um..." the white unicorn was at a loss for words.

"Humans are of the primate family of mammals, very well developed brains and highly complex and strong nervous system, with relatively little hair on their bodies, they are known to be some of the first creatures on Equus to establish civilization and rise above animal instinct, it was through this that they were revered, though they were soon known to be feared," she paused, sighing as the stories she had read came back to her, and she had felt as though the pictures had been drawn onto canvases of crimson, due to how much blood she saw depicted in them.

"The humans were found out to be creatures of uncontrollable sin and virtue, for they have equal capacities for both harmony and chaos, they could be slaughtering your family one moment and be hugging you to make you feel better the next," the memories cut her deep, her father mutilated before her very eyes, her mother fleeing and leaving Celestia and her sister alone, only for the fillies to face not a blade, but a hug.

"Humans. They are not the cowering wretches that they appear to be. They stand. They are unruly, and therefore cannot be ruled. To challenge them is to court death. War endures. War was always here. Before humans were, war waited for them. The ultimate trade awaiting its ultimate practitioner. They must be trusted, yet they can never be trusted. They are a paradox given flesh, an enigma in physical form, a concept turned into a living thing and evolved into a fact. They are chaos in the form of a billion mortals that live, breed, and love at the same time that they kill, damn, and hate. Humans are as vile as they are sacred, and if I can banish the loved to the high heavens for tragic fallouts, I can send the hated to the depths of tartarus for the inevitable tragic fallouts yet to come," she stopped at that moment, feeling her blood run cold as she heard something.

A screaming roar of rage and determination, far off and muffled, but still heard.

The guards had retreated, all of them except the Captain.

"Um, your highness, while this all seems to be valid reasoning, couldn't you have waited for the human to at least do something before you were to judge him?" he tread carefully, not wanting to incur the princess's solar wrath.

"He was ARMED, you foal, if I had waited for him to do something, he probably would have ended up with your cerebral fluids staining his blade, I do not dare risk a death of my guard, on my watch, because I wasn't sure of something that I should be sure about!" the white princess shouted back, before her expression fell at seeing her once brave guard captain shrinking back in fear.

The solar monarch sighed and gestured for Shining to leave, which he did with great haste.

"Alright human, your time here will be short, for you will not survive the fiery depths for long, even with your species' experience in the art of war," she groaned again as the backlash from using a rage-powered spell hit her, "You are outnumbered and outgunned, as your people say, so it was really not at all nice to know you," she smirked at her quick thinking.

There was no way that this Jackson McCard was going to live through this, he even left some sort of book behind, probably an instruction manual on weapon usage. He had no way to survive then.

No way, no how, no chance.

No hope at all.

Nope, not going to live.

Celestia facehoofed when she realized just how much she was tempting fate.

And fate was a cruel, maniacal, malevolent bitch.

~Meanwhile, in the depths of Tartarus~

Jackson opened his eyes and was surprised when he was met with darkness and lots of red.

He was standing on a platform located high above a wide lake of fire, with the occasional brimstone stalagmite sticking up, and many demonic creatures flying around over the lake of fire, "This is hell, I can tell because I can see that they have a Sin City," he concluded, looking at the large town located in the middle of the lake.

The sign in front of the town read "Sin City, AKA VIP sinner's area, authorized damned only, no wussy-dog-kickers allowed, only hardcore baddies", so yeah, the place one goes to when they dedicate life to sin, or something.

"Alright, so, that Celestia bitch is going to pay for this, luckily my drunken self got some fireproof clothes, so that's good," he concluded, drawing his shield and sabre.

"You there! Stand down, we know what you are, human *scum***," an armored demon pony called down to him as he finished zipping up his jacket.

"Right, okay, I can either stand up or sit down, standing down doesn't work for me, maybe we can compromise?" Jackson felt his mind slipping, as though merely being in the presence of P1, even for only a short time, had dragged him to the slippery slope of insanity.

"Lay down your weapons!" the demon warrior demanded.

It was too easy, his movie quote prowess proved useful, "COME AND GET THEM!" he shouted as he drew his sword and shield, taking on a Spartan stance and letting out a screaming roar of rage and determination.

It was time to re-enact the movie 300, with only 1.