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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 - 8. Part One: The Book of Genesis IX

Sorry about the delay; uni again is being a bitch. This is a chapter that I quite like enjoy! Going to post this and 10. :)

They treated her like she was a piece of dirt on the bottom of their shoes. There was a lack of respect for their elders in the way they handled her. Mrs. Greenwood missed the decorum there was when she worked for MI6 and how she would at least get a decent cup of tea if she asked.

But these men were heartless. They didn’t listen to anyone that pleaded with them. They never accepted any form of begging. They took her away for miles. She was forced to travel with a bag upon her head and her hands tied behind her back so that there was no chance for her to escape. She was well known by The Secret Army for her experience in the art of evasion.

Once they arrived at their destination, they dragged her by her pure white hair and threw her into a chamber of sort. A prison for only her.

Several hours later, one of the younger soldiers came back for her. She was sat in the middle of her room meditating.

‘Excuse me, Mrs. Greenwood.’

‘Ah. I see they haven’t had you for long. Have you been processed? I guess not. I nearly reached Nirvana. I will follow you.’

‘The Commander wishes to see you.’

‘I knew it.’ She stood and looked down at the young boy that was much shorter in stature than she was.

‘Follow me.’

He led her down a corridor and then they climbed out of a hatch. She recognised the environment. They had driven her round in a circle. From her house, down the road and into an empty retail area and then walked her along the sewers to her current location.

Mrs. Greenwood turned and looked down at the boy. ‘Why?’

‘Because that is what she wanted to. Now come with me.’

‘I understand. But understand this one thing; I will not help you in any way.’

The young boy nodded and pushed her with the blunt end of his gun up the driveway of the quite familiar house.

She knew what was going to happen. And it did. She was going to be tortured in her own familiar surroundings.

She lived permanently in fear and they tried to emphasise that fear. And she was afraid that, deep down psychologically, it had.

The Commander was waiting in her living room, sat on her sofa.

‘Hello my dear.’ The Commander pointed. ‘Zhenya dear boy, put her to her knees.’

The young boy, who appeared so innocent before, kicked her behind her shins and Mrs. Greenwood fell to the floor.

‘Now I’m going to make this simple for you Mrs. Greenwood. I’m going to ask you one singular question and I expect one singular answer. What do you know about The Game?’

She looked up to him and he moved to her eye level. ‘Die infidel.’ She spat in his face.

The Commander was not impressed so moved back to the sofa and extracted a whip from his bag. With one crack across her back she screamed. Then he cracked it again. ‘Tell me. Tell me about what you know. What do you know about it?’

‘I’ll never tell. I’d rather die.’

‘Then you no longer live with fear. You live with only yourself. And that is the worst part of it all.’ He cracked the whip harder than the last two times. ‘Tell me.’


‘Very Well, Mrs. Greenwood.’ He pointed towards his bag. ‘Boy. Get the mask.’

The young boy moved and collected a surgical masque leading to a bag of gas and placed it around her face.

It was only a small amount of psychic gas she had to inhale before he could gain access.

She held her breath for a few minutes but then she had to breathe and her mind opened like an unlocked door. He now could see into her mind and could see that she knew everything about The Game. He now knew she had played The Game before and was quite the expert.

She would play again in future but this time she was going to outright win.

The Commander in his own mind, panicked. This was spread across the psychic link and Mrs. Greenwood could see the weakness in his thoughts.

She relished in his pain. This was what they turned her into. A heartless being.

The Commander could feel her presence in his mind and left the room.

He ran to the closest phone. ‘Ma’am. She was too strong for us.’ A loud sound of a scream came through the receiver and into his ear. ‘Yes, we are sorry but we know what we can do. We can monitor her. What?’ He paused and a shocked look came across his face. ‘Right away ma’am.’

He put the phone down and wiped the sweat from his brow.

She wanted Mrs. Greenwood brought to her…


The phone was sat on the desk and he watched the circular numbers move in his fingers. He dialled the number and felt a sense of fear build in the pit of his stomach. But he had to do it. He had to be allowed release from the home.

He finished the phone number and picked up the old fashioned corded receiver.


The Shrouded One responded with a grunt.

‘I would like to be released.’

‘You know the rule. Never.’ She hung up the phone on him in the rudest fashion possible.

He took the phone and threw it across the room. And then moved to his door and placed his ear against it. He was going to do something. Something that he has always been afraid of doing.

He lightly pushed the door. It was unlocked. He looked out of the room and saw that the lights were bright. It must have been day.

To the left he could see an observation room. Of course, he was observed during every night and day. And then to the right, a security office. He was confused. Why would a correctional home have such a large office?

Unless. It was a prison. A high security prison. It suddenly started to make sense to him.

From the smell of sulphur in the air, he could tell that he was underground. After years of yearning and wishes and thinking, he finally figured where he was.

He was in a prison for those who have seen and know too much.

The Mental Patient could remember everything. He had been captured because of the way that he was born and also the expertise in The Game that he inherited from his parents.

He was locked away because he stood as far too much of a risk of damage to The Shrouded One’s plans.

Oh why did he not see it before? Oh yes, he was scared. So scared to leave his home. The one place that he was at peace. But no he had to for the greater good. He had to develop himself and to save society.

Of course, being in this high security prison for so long it caused him to be so lost in his mind that he lost track of his real identity…

And his identity could destroy religion, faith and The Shrouded One herself…


A few weeks passed and Ash had got to know the other men a lot better. The boy he had spoken to the other day had moved on into a different site. The Shrouded One showed a feeling of understanding and compassion so allowed him to be moved to a station that was closer to home.

Another boy took his place and Ash was the first to talk to him.

‘Hello there. Ash is the name. Have they processed you yet?’

‘Yes. It didn’t work.’ Ash looked confused. ‘Should I be worried?’

‘No. Not at all. For you see.’ He moved them both into the corner and whispered into his ear. ‘It didn’t work on me either.’ Ash smiled cheekily.

Ash noticed something. Even though the faces were starting to fade some of the boys would wake up in the night. They would wake up in the night and they would start to scream. Each of them was plagued with the face. It hurt them. It hurt them to the point of horrifying pain.

For you see, it was the dreams. It was the dreams that haunted them and changed them. Because of the influence of the face, they were starting to see images of a potential future.

Each of them, in their own individual ways, started to see the end of everything. Each of the boys hated it and they would do things only a child would do. Piss the bed. Fall out of bed and cry and rock. All signs of great insanity but none of them would admit it. For if they tried to admit it, the face would take over and they would be put under even greater pain.

It was a never ending cycle of shit, piss and pain.

When Ash chatted to the new solider, he discovered that the other soldier wished he could see the destruction. Simply because it would give him a reason to express his Schizophrenia and not have to hide it. Mental imperfection was not allowed. They would be shot on sight. But because the face doesn’t affect him (the leaders would have realised this), he would not be able to express his true self.

Ash truly did pity him. Then the boy said something emotionally heartbreaking.

‘I miss my mommy.’ He placed his head on Ash’s chest. ‘I want to feel her again. I want her to care for me. I don’t want to be here. Please save me. I don’t want to be alone.’

There was something about seeing Ash and this young soldier together that would make any sane human being doubt the power of The Secret Army.

There was something about the difference to society that made them so perfect…


Mrs. Greenwood was taken by The Commander to The Shrouded One’s building. He led her with the rope that extended from her hand restraints down through the corridors and into the chamber. Now of course, he kept her blindfolded so she didn’t know where she was going. Inside he slightly saw a feeling of guilt. How could he treat such an elderly lady like this? But he had to follow his orders. Like all of the other soldiers.

Over the next couple of hours, she was interrogated by The Shrouded One, who remained behind her shroud at all times, just so Mrs. Greenwood didn’t remember her face. But that wouldn’t matter; she kept her under her blindfold anyway. She interrogated her blindfolded and lying in the floor like a dying animal.

‘Where is the base?’ Was the first question and of course Mrs. Greenwood didn’t answer. She didn’t respond to the whipping or the teasing or the electrocution therapy employed by The Shrouded One.

Mrs. Greenwood repeated this process on the second question of ‘Who is in charge of The Resistance?’

After this interrogation, The Shrouded One had Mrs. Greenwood placed in The Storm Cage. Her perfect prison.

The Shrouded One had Mrs. Greenwood put through the process. She had the mask placed upon her face, as like many other but she had the ability to resist the absolute sacrifice of her personal soul and was able to keep control of herself, even rejecting the face from her memories and her dreams.

But she didn’t know that this Never Ending Face had a second ability.

It was subliminally planted in her mind and she would still be unaware even with her resistance.

She would be so unaware. So unaware of what happened. Every time the resistance is mentioned from that moment on, her thought would be traced and recorded.

These thoughts would then be transmitted to a hidden transceiver and recorded into the system and a backup copy would be played for The Shrouded One.

A technique that had never been used before by anyone else. A technique she would sell to the governments of the future, in order to reserve herself a peaceful life after she was to depart from the leadership. Of course, this wouldn’t be for a very, very long time.

She was going to spy on the resistance through one of their key members, Mrs. Greenwood.

And not only that, by having their key information at her disposal, she would be able to sabotage any of their plans by being at least three steps ahead at all times. The Shrouded One would have the ability to stop any of their plans against her simply because of having complete knowledge of everything about her world and the people around her. Having complete knowledge would have a big price to pay but for The Shrouded One, it was all entirely worth it.

She was going to destroy the resistance from the inside of the company to the outside of it.

And she would enjoy the disastrous nature of it all…

The Shrouded One felt an eruption from her stomach and she released a most sinister laugh…

It was set in stone. Like the great sword which was drawn like the suffering minds of each soldier were withdrawn from their bodies.

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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