Fiction: The Castling, a short story

The Castling ♟️

A short story, by Erik Engström, 2025-09-17

Change was in the air. But there was a storm brewing far off in the distance as well. The days were shorter and the first falling leaves were a sign of the change of seasons. 

A man was walking along the seashore as the wind swept in over dried seagrass and crushed seashells.  

He stopped by the edge of the water, where the ocean met the grayish sand. His boots sank into the sand as he looked at a puddle to see his own reflection. He had not yet grown used to the face looking back at him. 

Somewhere out there he knew a stranger was in the same predicament. Someone looking into the reflection, perhaps as confused as himself. Maybe someone was trying to find out the truth at this very moment. Even if it was possible, would he want to transfer back to an aging body, stuck in a monotonous life? Whoever had taken his place surely wasn’t the winner.  

Judging by the name driver license in the wallet, he had somehow taken over the body of Anton Fossa, a young banker living in an expensive apartment in the city center. He himself was registered as Cody Poe Belmont, a reserved immigrant living a simple life as a priest without really leaving much of a paper trail. 

A distant sound at sea pulled Cody back from deep thought. Ever since the castling of souls had occurred, one thought had kept him awake at night, keeping him in fear. 

The life that he had ended up in had everything most people could ever dream of. He was young again; the gaze of people wandered toward him with attraction and his job paid well. Yet the question lingered echoing in the back of his head at all times.  

If the other person could find him, after all Anton was probably quite established, why did Anton never contact him? Had the stranger found hidden potential in his life that he himself had missed all these years? 

Later the same evening, as Cody was looking through the library in his new apartment, he pulled out a book that looked different from the other business, sociology and psychology books. A leather-bound book that gave him chills merely by touching it with his fingers. 

He realized that this was a book of great evil, and the illusion that he desperately had held onto that the whole situation was an accident was dispelled, as the title taunted him with jagged letters. 

“Satanic rituals, sacrifice and the transference of souls”