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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

The Woman's Game - 3. Part One: The Book of Genesis IV

We explore a bit more and we meet a very old friend...

The gardens were always quiet. Except for the creature that would often go out searching for their first piece of blood.

They lived in the shadows and warned people of a price to pay. They would pay or they would die.

A school. A quite innocent setting till the time had come for this school to properly prepare itself for the inevitable end.

The sun dial was facing north, the time of All Hallows. 12 o’clock. Midnight.

The midnight moon was shining down upon the creatures gathered around the table as the students of the school hid in fear in the classrooms and in the bedrooms.

The boarding school for those that were gifted.

Or worse, given a talent for sake of their souls.

This collection of creatures went by a name. A cult of kinds.

They were dancing like golden night elves around the table, casting their spells under their breath. They were preparing a ritual. A ritual that would make them immortal.

They were hungry.

A smaller creature came forward and placed four skull-like crystals on the sun dial.

The creatures worshiped the skull crystals. They gave them everlasting life.

They had to collect all 13 in order to stop the prophecy of the end of their kind and allow their infection to spread across the planet and especially in the place that was to be called…


They were ready for the world as we know it to end. They were ready for the change in time and the change in meaning. The end was coming for everyone; the end where everything changed.

The destruction of society as we know it.

They were a peaceful race of beings before they began to follow the leader.

Now they were ready wage war with all of the pitiful human beings, knowing they would win. They were more agile; they could move, become invisible and even change someone’s direction of thought. They were truly the gods in existence.

They were above humans, beyond death, beyond matter.

They were the Montessori Cult. A Cult of Epic Proportion.

They were vampires and they answered to a higher cause.

One that introduced herself in a not so conventional way…


The elder smiled as they circled around the two boys and uttered in his last breath, ‘Remember The Shrouded One.’ Then he muttered a dark incantation and this caused a creature to rise through the ground.

A woman. A shrouded woman.

She smiled darkly through her pristine white teeth. ‘Hello boys.’ She took the gun from her holster and began to shoot her silver bullets towards a few of the crowd of vampires. ‘Who the fuck brought me here and how in holy hell do I escape? Well? Any bright ideas?’

The acting leader of the cult stepped forward, ordered a few other vampires to tend to their wounded and he spoke. ‘You are to have more power than you could ever imagine. You are to become the leader of the world. You will become beyond humanity. You will not be one of us but you will be able to join us. It was his dying wish that we follow you and we shall.’

She laughed to herself silently. ‘You know what I say to that, your royal highness. I’m a bitch. Deal with it.’ With that final phrase, she sent her shroud out from her body to cover the local area.

After doing that, she escaped through the window and returned to her headquarters. She must hide.

She was taken from her headquarters by an enchantment which should never have worked.

The moment was coming when she would have her revenge…


The door hung off its hinges as the man in the uniform walked through. He glared down at the door, tapped a few times with his umbrella and slipped his hand into his pocket in order to extract a small vial of liquid. A certain invention created for this type of event.

He stepped into the living room and smiled.

‘Commander…’ There she was. Sitting, sewing, and praying. She knew he was going to come for her again. The Mother. She was going to suffer now, if only he would remember…

‘So lovely to see you again my dear, now please sit.’

‘I’m already sitting.’

‘Yes.’ He coughed and placed the hand with the vial behind his back and continued to force his smile.

‘Whatever you are here for, you just get it done now so I don’t have to suffer later. I don’t want to suffer later, I want to suffer now.’

‘Such a spirit. Okay, Zhenya!’ He turned away as a young child of twelve moved into the house with a case. He placed the case on the table, opened the lid and picked up the syringe from inside the case and filled it with the liquid from the vial that the commander was hiding. Zhenya gave over the syringe to the commander who swiftly injected the Mother with the serum.

She began to doze…

Her mind was falling.

‘Now I want you to think about your husband my dear… Tell me everything about CR. Incorporated.’

‘I… I can’t. I won’t. I love my husband, I…’ That face…

Oh god the face…

That Never Ending face that caused her so much pain.

It was disjointed, it was inappropriate. It had bulges where there shouldn't be bulges and the construction of his face... It was just completely wrong.

It was stuck in her mind…

Her mind and the minds of millions that had been implanted…


The large glass building reached into what seemed an endless sky with the large letters ‘CR’ imprinted on the building top. Much like the Empire State Building but bigger. Much bigger. 900 floors of offices, management and HR. All a cover up for the floors below.

The world of The Communist Resistance was far deeper than what CR Inc., a producer of HR and Marketing Management for business was giving out. Of course, this was not the headquarters. Merely a base of sorts. They had to be able to move around swiftly in order to avoid those that searched for them.

There were the blind employees, going back and forth, not ever knowing who they truly were working for. They never knew.

And then there was the Father…

He was management, went to Floor 900 and sat with the CEO of CR Inc. He then took the fireplace down to the hidden basement of floor Negative One. There were four negative levels but only certain members had clearance for floor Negative Four. They say the floors are made of gold.

Some even say you are immortal once you enter the place. But they are just rumours.

The father had finished his shift and was walking away from the building, in broad daylight down a dark alleyway. The usual suspects, the homeless man, the rats, the ugly stinking rats and the lady and children, were also begging. Someone in life is always begging and they never give. They needed help but the world had been brainwashed by some unseen force.

Then it happened. The creature appeared out of nowhere, with its bulging red eyes and deep spirit.

It launched itself from where it was stood towards its target and he hit him directly; bulls eye.

The neck would have been too obvious and the leg would not have been close enough to his deeper veins.

It went for the wrist, where there was a mainline back to the heart and to the lungs. Most importantly the lungs. It would take 15 minutes.

The beast was agile and it was so hungry…

The Father batted the beast away with his briefcase screaming in a foreign tongue.

A tongue that made the creature bow and walk off.

The father had 15 minutes to get home…

15 minutes to save himself.

Or death would surely come his way.


Sat on the porch, The Mother was reading ‘1984’ by George Orwell when she saw him approaching.

He was hurt, grasping his wrist tightly and looked ready to collapse.

‘Honey?’ She raced across the street and supported him. ‘ASH! Come out here and help!’

He ran down the stairs and went to his father’s aid after seeing what was wrong.

The Mother glanced through the house, knowing that The Commander was in the back room of the house, waiting for him to come home. She had told him everything. All because of when she thinks of things she should not. She sees the face…

‘I… I’ve been bitten by something. Something in the street. It’s draining me. Sit me on the porch.’

They supported him over to the bench and sat him down and the Mother collected a glass of water for him and gave it to him.

‘Oh goodness… breathe, honey, breathe… just don’t die on me. Ash phoned an ambulance.’

‘I’m afraid that won’t be necessary because I know that he will be coming with me.’

The Commander had stepped out and held his diamond encrusted cane in his hand.

‘He comes with me.’ He turned and Zhenya appeared with Ash, at knifepoint, ready to kill on order. ‘Or the boy dies’.

‘Let me go… for god’s sake let me go,’ Ash screamed.

‘I’ll go. You need not hurt them. I’ll come willingly’. The Father struggled to stand so the Commander grabbed his arm and supported him to the parked car in the street. The car that they should have noticed had a certain emblem on it, the emblem of the Secret Army. If only she had seen it, if only she had that little extra observance, or not have deliberately overlooked the tiny detail.

‘We shall take him Zhenya, he is ready for processing.’ Zhenya opened the door and the Commander threw the Father in the back and locked the door.

‘Well, get on with it.’ He walked round and got into the passenger seat of the car.

Ash and the Mother looked on in complete and unconceivable shock…


The platform was black, like the rest of the building and the drapery surrounding the platform was too. Central to the platform, there was a microphone. A figure emerged from the darkened building. Midnight. A peculiar hour. The figure wasn’t like the other humans. She was surrounded in a veil. A great dark veil.

It was her.

The one the world has been waiting for. A saviour, perhaps, or a daemon.

She spoke in a shrill tone with no emotion in her voice.

‘Good evening. You may be wondering why I have contacted you at this moment in time. Midnight. I have awakened you in your beds. I have invaded your homes and yet you have not realised this yet. There is an army. They are waiting. We will invade homes and we will kill. We will kill until we get what we want. I desire anyone related to the so called resistance. For every hour that they are not brought to me, 1 million people shall die. Bring them to me. All of them. You all remember now…’

She stared out into the all consuming darkness when she saw a raven fly past her.

It looked down at the eyes of the woman and shuddered in its flight. It brought back memories of being found by that one man. That one man who changed her life.

He lived on. He lived to be one of the greatest men she had ever known. The age of experience will always be prolonged.

Nature was afraid of her.

If nature is afraid, was anyone safe?


She turned. The darkness of the night was most fitting to her situation. She crossed her arms until she brushed past her ‘experiment’ tattoo scar. She winced in pain. One of her soldier boys moved to the platform to help her down the steps.

‘Boy, if I needed help I would ask. Now return to your post. You never know who might be watching at this time of night.’

She brushed past him and entered the extensive mansion. She walked down the corridor, decorated with ancient furnishings, suits of armour and classical paintings. She reached her Manet and pressed into the landscape. Suddenly, the floor began to revolve and she came to an iron staircase quite unstable but easy to walk on. She descended into the dark chamber and moved towards the table. Thirteen slots. Thirteen chances. Arranged in four rows.

The first row of four, ready for those skulls that provided that little bit of extra power. The next three rows of three for the skulls of support. The white skulls. She had searched for years for those little pieces of glass. Those little pieces of glass were her entire world. For they contained powers that not even the gods could comprehend. It was inevitable that it was to happen. She was to find at least a few. A war can be waged with one simple weapon. Out of her handbag she removed a single red skull, covered in the blood of the person she graciously received it from and placed it onto the podium. The podium glowed red and a chilling female voice came through the system.

‘The skull of the mammal. One of the most powerful skulls. Red. The mammal is considered to be a dangerous animal thus therefore the skull is rewarded a score of 4.’

The Shrouded One smiled to herself with her dark lips and muttered ‘Excellent. Just a few more till I have a large enough score to win this damned war.’

She felt a sense of joy coming from her heart.

The war was in the opening stages.

She was going to win and was relishing in the thought…


The streetlights were down. Cars were down. Everything was dead. So dead. There were soldiers in the street. They were all in blue khaki. It was scary. I opened the door to my room and walked out trying to find my mother. I needed her at that point in time. When the world is threatened is when you find out who truly cares and who lied through their back teeth.

She also was huddled up in bed. She was so lonely. When I walked into her room, I noticed something I had never noticed before. She had a gash on her arm. Had she done something wrong? Had she caught it?

I never found out, not to this day.

“Come closer, Son. I need to hear your voice.”

She was so weak.

“I’m here Mum. Why are you in bed?”

“There are things that must be told and then there are things that will be told and I’m afraid that is a fact I cannot divulge.”

All I could think was what the hell, but she was still my mother and I had a duty to care for her. I went into their private bathroom and got her a glass of water.

“Here you go Mum, drink that up.”

“There is something I must ask you to do for me. You must find the lady who wears green on the sunny side of the street.”

“Mum, what are going on about?”

“Don’t argue with me, just do it. Find that lady in green on the sunny side of the street. You must give her this message. We Are Not Alone. Hear me. We Are Not Alone. Now go.”

“Of course Mother, whatever you want, Mother.”

“Don’t ever try to think you are saner than me. You are the only hope. I have no hope left. We Are Not Alone. Now go. Just go.”

“Please don’t make me.”

“You only make it harder upon yourself. Now just go.”

With reluctance, I did as she asked. I don’t know why. When someone is as frail as that you cannot refuse what they want. It may be the last thing you ever do for them…

The lady in green on the sunny side of the street. She must mean Sunnyside. That’s the road adjacent to ours. Actually, that’s the road where Mrs. Greenwood lives.

She can’t be.

Mrs. Greenwood is the Lady in Green.

Of course, her green coat.

But that must mean she is an operative.

At her age?

Copyright © 2013 Johnathan Colourfield; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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