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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 - 9. Part One: The Book of Genesis X

We are nearing the end... This is the 10th chapter and there are only 12 in this part...

The date was set, ready for The Shrouded One to have her final pounce. She would take over complete control of the world on this particular date.

In 6 months time, the current world will be over and a new regime would start and complete control would be handed over to those who knew how to use it.

In particular, The Shrouded One herself. She knew how to handle the most delicate of situations.

It was coming. The destruction was coming and she was in deep thought.

Behind her shroud, she was ready to run scared of what she has done, what she is to do and most importantly what she has become…

Very different from that young girl she once knew.


A ringing phone. He was quite privileged to have a phone in his cell. Not many other victims of the regime had contact with the outside world. But his phone only had one accessible number and that was directly to The Shrouded One herself. He thought it was odd that anyone was calling his number but he knew it would be one of two people. Now considering, the first was usually occupied with other work to call him. He knew it was the second.

The Leader of The People in a final desperate plea. He chuckled before he picked up the phone. He was going to be their last hope against her. He wouldn’t help her because he was in line with her.

But they didn’t have that knowledge. Of course they didn’t.

They still thought he was the most innocent of all creatures…

The truth bites.

The Leader of The People spoke to him in a desperate tone. Of course, without the power of language that The Mental Patient had, The Leader of The People had no chance of succeeding in his reconnaissance mission.

‘You clearly don’t understand. There is no inexplicable way in which I would ever explore your intentions.’ The Mental Patient blew down the receiver. Sending a concept down the phone and through the technology directly into the leader of the people’s mind.

The message was simple. ‘Forget. The people are happy. We are happy. Forget.’

A simple message with a sinister key concept within it.

The Mental Patient knew where he came from. He remembered. The Court. In the medieval period. His ancestors would entertain the kings and queens with great feats of implanting ideas into people minds.

In the modern day, what we would now call ‘magicians’ would consider this idea to be bullshit but The Mental Patient knew very much that this wasn’t bullshit. He knew there were true people with abilities and he was one of them. Of course, there were some ‘fake’ seers which would create profanity in the name of ‘art’ and that was what caused the bullshit spreading around the world.

But that was needed for his shroud of insanity to continue. His memory had to be wiped and recovered in order to discover who and what he was…

The Leader of The People tried to continue but he felt a restriction in his throat. It was if something unseen was choking him. He struggled to breathe but then the breath through the phone finally released him. After that mysterious event, he couldn’t speak.

He just accepted what The Mental Patient had declared to him and accepted the message. Then he left the phone and carried on with his daily duties.

Forgetting completely about the original issue he phoned up about. Completely gone.

It was only a short amount of time before The Mental Patient reached his full potential and when he does, the water would rise and a god could quite possibly be reborn into this life…


Mrs. Greenwood was in pain. As she was thrown around the chamber they had damaged a lot of her bones and sprained her ankle. But she was a fighter as always and she liked to carry on in the face of Adversity. Her face was usually plastered in strong makeup and concealer to cover her growing wrinkles but now she was alone. Her skin was sagged and her face cut. She looked like she was dying.

But no. She was still very much alive.

When she was put into the Storm Cage she saw a figure strapped to a chair in the corner but considering this was a very high security prison, she thought it would be best to keep at a good distance at all times. She never knew what The Shrouded One kept in there…

But now she was going to approach the figure in the corner.

‘Hello?’ She projected her voice loudly.

‘There is someone there. I thought I was going mad.’ It was most certainly a man’s voice and she somehow recognised it. It was The Father.

‘It's you… But how?’ She moved closer into the darkness, closer to him.

‘She took me and locked me in here. I’ve been in here so long I don’t even know what day it is.’

‘Jesus.’ She was in complete shock.

‘Why did you do this to me?’ He tried to reach out but his arms were still tied to the chair.

‘What! Me? What do you think I did?’

‘You know what you did. You know what happened 40 years ago.’

She collapsed onto the glass bed. She did remember what happened 40 years ago.

‘I… I’m sorry.’

‘You know what could have happened. And you know what has happened and what is…’

‘Stop. I know what you are getting at.’ She laid back and worried to herself.

‘Is there any hope?’ He asked in a deep melancholy tone.

‘I’m afraid not.’

For you see, she knew she was the one in the wrong and has been for so many years.

Mrs. Greenwood could remember what she did. She remembered what she did to that poor innocent little girl…


The Men in Black Suits. Strapped to a table. The Woman in green. Needle. Continual Change. Impermanence. Perfection. Cold. So Cold.




Everything had changed.


The other soldier had kept his nervous twitch. Ash was worried because he wouldn’t stop it.

‘Why do you twitch?’

‘I can’t help it. It’s habit. I think of these things in the night, in my dreams and I panic and the face…’

‘What? I thought you weren’t affected?’

Ash began to worry.

‘So did I. Then it came to me in the night.’

That was what they were doing. The leading soldier had surrounded him and placed something on his face. Ash began to think that if they tried again, they would succeed. He was feeling worthless. Maybe he was just a glitch in the system. But he had to be different. He just had the feeling.

‘I thought we were different Ash.’ The other soldier began to rock back and forth.

‘I know. So did I.’ Ash moved towards him and looked down into his eyes. He embraced him with a passion he had never felt before.

There was just something different. There was something different about them being together.

It felt correct.

‘But why?’ The boy was worried.

‘Because it feels right. Is it okay if we become closer?’ Ash moved in towards him and the boy looked into his eyes and smiled.

They kissed.

They touched.

They removed clothes. Jacket followed by trouser followed by shirt and never quite reaching the underwear…

They enjoyed.

Someone charged through the door and started shouting.

‘Get a move on you lazy bastards.’ The Commander was not in the best of moods. ‘Get on the parade ground now.’

The boys got dressed and the other soldier got out of the building but The Commander blocked the way to the exit.

‘Boy. You are to stay behind. What is your name?’

‘Ash sir.’

‘Good. I’ll remember to use that when I’m teaching you.’

Ash was confused by The Commander’s final statement but he was sure it would be solved quite soon.

The Commander had decided that he was going to teach Ash a very painful lesson.

A lesson to do with playing the great game…


Mrs. Greenwood had been moved into a different prison. It was a waste to have her in security when there was no risk involved. It was time to prepare for her to move on.

She had been moved because The Shrouded One wanted to have a more personal touch to her investigation.

But before she could see The Father, she ordered her scientists to influence him with The Never Ending Face.

A wonderful concept that was developed so long ago. Seven years ago. With something everlasting…

From something and someone that should never be talked about by anyone.

And she now moved on into The Storm Cage…

The prisoner had been there for an extended period of time. His lips looked dry and his face covered in facial hair. Malnourished. The Shrouded One looked through the hole in door and knew what she had done to him.

‘Hello dear.’ She maximised her shroud to the largest strength she could have it in.

‘What do you want from me? Haven’t I showed you I’m not going to tell you anything?’

‘You will tell me everything.’ She blew a kiss in his direction.

‘I will never. You know it is going to be played and you are afraid because you know you will not win.’

The Shrouded One was taken aback. She was fearful of what could happen. Only one entrant to enter into the game and leave untainted. The other player must give up everything.

She looked into The Father eyes and realised that there was one possibility that she may not succeed.

But she must not doubt herself.

She must not give up because she would lose not only The Game but also her soul in the process…


Within the smaller prison she was sat. She practised all the martial arts. From Karate to Judo. But at this precise moment she was practicising her Yoga to occupy herself.

They came for her and they released her into the public domain.

She was released but she still had the face in her mind.

She walked out unharmed and walked onwards away from The Centre and found a payphone.

She put in a 20 pence coin and dialled the number she needed. They had to pick up. She had to get home.

‘Hello. Codename GW here.’

‘Goodness. We thought you were dead.’ The operative said.

‘So did I. I was close to it but then they released me.’

‘Ah. There may be a squirrel in the water works.’

‘I’ve never heard that code phrase before. I guess it’s good.’

‘Yes it’s wonderful. Now we are having the skulls moved to a secret location in order to make sure they stay secured.’

‘What’s my task Ma’am?’

‘Go home and rest. You have been inside for so long. You need your rest.’

‘Send a car. I’m at the phone box between Adelaide Street and Cobalt Avenue. You know in the city. Their headquarters is in quite an obvious place.’

‘Okay. We won’t pick you up in a place that close. Move to the place where the birds swim near the grass. Understand?’


Mrs. Greenwood hung up the phone. She didn’t understand that code phrase. She knew she had to meet them at the park but she would be wondering for quite a while as to the meaning of said ‘squirrel’.

Every moment of mental usage, her thoughts and processes would be transferred over to The Never Ending Face. Even her trying to figure out the meaning of the phrase would be relayed to The Shrouded One.

She was a problem in the Resistance. She now could reveal everything by accident without knowing. The squirrel represented a problem and the water works represented the mind. The Resistance were preparing to let her go. She was in her old age, despite how loyal she was. They couldn’t have a breach in their security.

One of the best operatives they ever had but now they had another liability.

Mrs. Greenwood was secretly aware of this fact and yet she would try to carry on.

She had such a history that should never be revealed to anyone else. She was being probed every second of every day of every week…

Her mind was a victim of situation but she would not let that deter her from her ultimate goal.

Stopping that of which she once helped to create…

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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