Well, well, well, we're seriously not getting enought traffic or anymore followers, you need to spread the message around! And check out our new blog http://www.londonstratfordcity.blogspot.com . We could'nt make it more awesome, but follow it and tell everyone you know! Well, anyway here's our new story of the week, "Mind Games", enjoy.....

               

Chapter

1

               

                Fearne yawned as another minute passed slowly on the clock. Mr Costell- Stratford High School’s history teacher- burbled on, oblivious to the fact that half of his class was asleep. Five minutes, ten minutes, fifteen minutes, Fearne added up in her head how much longer she would have to endure Mr Costell’s unintentional torture.

            She looked out of the window and into the school yard. The sky was a dull grey, and small droplets of rain dribbled their way down the window. There was nothing much to see, but then something beyond the school yard caught Fearne’s attention. A white man with a dark blue hoodie and baggy denim jeans stood at the school gates with a flip-up phone in his hand. It was facing the window of Fearne’s classroom, where there was a clear view of her. As soon as the man realised Fearne was watching him, he brought down the phone and walked away.

            Normally, she would have spent some time pondering upon this, but the end of school bell rang loud and clear, blocking out all her thoughts and setting Fearne’s mind onto pack-up mode. She walked out of the school alone today, as Rhonda, her best friend since the age of three, was absent. Lonely, she walked down her usual route to the bus stop and stood waiting. Three minutes later, the bus came and Fearne walked onto the bus slapping her oyster card against the machine as she did so, unaware that a vaguely familiar face was tagging along to her every step. 

            The bus rode along to the next stop, where Fearne climbed off-, followed by the man she had seen with the phone. She walked silently down the pavement and through an alleyway, thinking about what she had seen, when a hand grabbed her mouth and pulled her aside. She tried to scream, but every sound she made was muffled. Two strong pairs of arms shoved her through a door and tied her up within seconds. The place was dark and cold. Fearne could feel duct tape being wrapped around her ankles and wrists and a dusty piece of cloth being forced into her mouth to gag her.

            A small light bulb was switched on. Fearne was in a small room with bare walls and a wooden shelf on the left holding DIY tools and pots of paint. A face loomed into sight. It was the man from outside the gate!

‘Hello, girly,’ said the man in a strong, cockney accent. Fearne could see his face properly now, pale skin, dark brown hair and a small bristly beard. He couldn’t have been more than twenty two. His green eyes were narrowed at Fearne, who was now going red in the face trying to scream.

Another man came within sight. This one was short and fat, with big, flabby lips and dark brown eyes. His nose was huge and dominated most of the space on his face.

‘How you doin’, eh? Been watching you for a while, we ‘ave,’ he said in a heavy voice.

‘Carl!’ the young man called.

‘What?’ shouted someone else as they came down the stairs. He turned out to be only a teenager, not much older than Fearne. ‘Oh, you’ve got someone,’ he said as he caught sight of Fearne. He looked exactly like the young man, just shorter and a little less built.

‘Yep, and you’re doin’ it this time. Picked her out especially for you. Easy job, kids are,’ said the young man.

‘What? No way! Harry, I can’t! She’s only a little girl!’ He protested.

‘Yeah, so what? If you want to live up to my standards, you’re going to have to do your work with no mercy! Ignore their screams and tears, just do the job!’ the young man, that turned out to be Harry, said in effort to persuade his younger brother to oblige to his task.

‘Well the thing is, Harry,’ Carl stepped forwards so that he was only two inches away from his brother ‘I don’t want to live up to your so- called ‘standards’. Never did, never will! The only reason I’ve never snitched is because you’re my brother! Otherwise you’d have been in jail by now!’ Carl spoke calmly, and when he’d finished, a smirk spread across his face.

‘Don’t talk to me like that, kid,’ Harry shook his head, ‘don’t. If you want a roof over your head, then don’t EVER SPEAK TO ME LIKE THAT EVER AGAIN!’ Harry boomed with an astonishingly loud voice. Carl glared at his brother with unmistakable hatred.

‘I’ll talk however I like,’ He said. Then it was Harry’s turn to glare. His face turned red with rage and a pulsing vein stuck out of his forehead. Harry grabbed his brother by the collar of his shirt and bashed him against the shelf. He then reached out and grabbed a knife from the shelf and held it against Carl’s neck.

‘You listen now, you stubborn kid. If your life means anything to you, if you want to live to see the daylight, DO AS I SAY!’ Harry bowled. ‘Kill the girl.’

‘Ok,’ Harry whispered, a look of shame spreading his face. ‘Ok, I’ll do it.’ Harry lowered him.

‘Knew you’d do it,’ he said, patting Carl hard on the back while smiling. He handed him a knife and a pair of disposable gloves. Carl looked as if he was going to be sick.

            Fearne was more scared than she had ever been in her entire life. Her eyes watered and her entire, fifteen year life shot before her. She was going to be slaughtered by strangers for no reason- and she wasn’t even sixteen yet! Carl came up close to her face, with the knife in hand. Fearne was gagged and couldn’t speak, so she shot a pleading look instead.

‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered. ‘I’m so sorry.’ Slowly, he brought the knife towards her neck. Fearne struggled and screamed for all she could, her eyes were gushing tears now and the reality that she was going to die approached her with no sympathy whatsoever.

Suddenly, she felt a pain so sharp and agonising, that she thought that she’d been killed already. Fearne looked down, but the knife hadn’t even touched her yet. The pain swiftly moved to throughout her, filling every cell in her body. It felt like the front of her body was being shifted to the back. It was too painful to endure, and Fearne let out a howl so loud that it caused the gag to fall loose. Her ankles and wrists had also come free from the amount of struggling she had done. Then a blinding light that shot out from every inch of Fearne’s body.

Carl, Harry and the fat man had fallen to the ground in effort to save their eyes from the striking light that Fearne let off. She let out another howl and then it all stopped.

‘Hey, where’s she gone?’ the fat man asked, puzzled. The two men and the boy stood astonished, yet frightened at the same time. Fearne had disappeared……

Chapter

2

            Fearne opened her eyes. The pain was gone, but had left her head spinning. Suddenly, she jumped to her feet and bent over as vomit gushed out of her mouth. She looked around.

‘What the-‘Fearne was too surprised to even carry on with her sentence. She had found herself in a small courtyard, which she discovered- by looking further around- was attached to a church. Fearne blinked, her mind filled with fear that she may have been turning mad. ‘Where am I? Hey, where are you people? This isn’t funny, you know! You think you’re funny, but you’re not! WHERE AM I?’ she screamed. Fearne forced herself to stop, take deep breaths and think. Once she had regained her common sense, she decided to go and knock on the door of the church.

            Fearne walked around the trees and gravestones on the path that had been paved on the ground. It led her to the front of the church, which was huge and made of heavy, stone blocks.  There was a big arch- shaped door with flowers entwined around a crucifix engraved on it. Fearne walked towards it and pushed the door with all the strength she had. After a lot of effort it gave in, a dust of cloud surrounding Fearne as it did so.

            She walked through, coughing as her lungs became filled with dust. Fearne looked around and found herself in a rather medieval looking place.  There were stained glass windows with pictures of baby Jesus and Mary painted on them. She walked further down the moth-eaten carpet that lay between the two sections of wooden benches. A ray of light beamed onto her face, illuminating the dusty area on which she stood.  Fearne could now see beyond the dusty altar, behind which stood a large, life-like statue of Mary cradling baby Jesus within her arms. She walked towards it, enchanted somehow by the detail and precision of the statue.

            Fearne stroked the baby that lay in Mary’s arms. ‘So small’, she thought.

“Amazing, isn’t it?” boomed a voice from behind her, causing Fearne to jump. She spun on her heel to discover a monk dressed in a tatty, brown robe standing behind her.

“I- what- I’m-“She was lost for words. The monk interrupted.

“What, scared, confused, worried? Or all three,” the monk smiled, raising an eyebrow.

“I don’t know how to explain this, you’ll probably think I’m mad,” Fearne despaired at the thought of having to explain what had just happened.

“Oh, there is no need, child, for I already know, better than you do,” the monk said, still smiling, but with a sly look.

“What do you mean?” Fearne had never been so puzzled in her life. The monk turned away and walked through a wooden door set into the wall adjacent to the main entrance. “Hey, come back! I don’t get it!” she ran after the monk and through the door, to find her in another room. A dusty, small one with nothing but a round wooden table and chair and a bed of straw.

“What the hell is going on here?” Fearne exclaimed as she discovered that the room was empty, even though there was no means of leaving the room apart from the door through which she had just entered. “Look, stop playing hide and seek and show yourself!” she exclaimed.

            “But I am right here,” came a voice, and suddenly the monk was standing right before her.

“How did you-“Fearne started to enquire, but the monk cut her off.

“Sit down child, and I shall explain,” he said. Fearne was about to sit on the straw, when the monk stopped her. “No, no! You must be seated over here, on the chair!” the monk exclaimed. Confused, Fearne went and sat on the chair instead.

“So, go on then. Tell me the meaning of this freaky thing,” Fearne urged.

“All in good time, child. First, you must explain to me what you think is going on,” the monk said.

“Well, I was in this old basement. Some guy had snatched me on the way back from school, and was going to kill me,” Fearne’s speaking pace quickened and her eyes grew wide as she spoke. “He had the knife to my throat, he was about to slit it in half!” she exclaimed. “And then there was this painful feeling in my neck and I thought he’d already chopped my head off, but I looked down and-“Fearne spoke in more of a whisper now, as she began to describe the agonising feeling that had possessed her. “I was still alive. Then, the pain spread throughout my body. It was excruciating, and that’s no exaggeration. At that moment, I would have rather died than feel the pain I was feeling!” Fearne was shaking now as she gave the monk her recollection.

“And then what happened?” he asked calmly, evidently unmoved by what Fearne was telling him.

“Then, there was this light and- I - “Fearne couldn’t continue. “I’m going mad,” she quietly whispered. The monk smiled.

“Now, dear child, I shall explain to you what really happened,” the monk took a deep breath, and began his explanation. “You are right, all the way up to when you say you were held at knife point. The curious events that followed are of course correct, but only to the uneducated person. When you were about to be killed, you say you felt a pain, then experienced and excruciatingly tormenting agony, followed by a blinding light. That was all caused, you see, by you.”

“What?” Fearne sat with her mouth wide open.

“The pain was caused by you. You are now here because of you. Your mind transported you here,” the monk’s face remained expressionless.

“I don’t get it. This is just crazy. You don’t know anything!” Fearne was about to get up, when the monk shouted.

“You must hear me out, Fearne,” the monk said. Fearne froze.

“How do you know my name?” she said, breathing deeply and quickly from wariness.

“I told you, I know a lot of things,” he smiled. “Now,” he began as Fearne re-seated herself. “As I was saying, your mind transported you here. You saw that you were in danger and found a leak in time through which you escaped. Your mind, Fearne, is not like the ordinary one. It’s capable of so much more than just algebra two and A-level comprehension,” the monk lowered his voice and slackened his speaking pace. “You are one of the five people that have been given this special gift. The power of telepathy. A strong and mighty form. Not just that, you can do so many other things with your mind. You travelled through time!” the monk’s eyes widened. “Einstein could not travel through time! Edward Bell could not travel through time!” the monk grew more and more animated as he spoke. Fearne’s mind was clear on some of the things the monk had said, however remained hazy with others.

“So, what you’re saying is; I’m a mind reader that can travel through time and am one of the five people in the world that have this gift?” Fearne said.

“No, you are one of the five sacred children and you can do anything. Anything at all,” the monk concluded.

“So who are these other people, then? Who are you?” Fearne asked.

“Ah, I am just the mere monk that was given the prophecy that explained the sacred children. No one believed me at first. Many men left this church because of me, they said my claim was ridiculous, and when I wouldn’t drop it, they left saying I had a bee in my bonnet.  There are many that remained, though. Many that did not give up our circle of brotherhood. They knew I would never make such a ludicrous statement unless it was true,” he seemed to be talking more to himself now then to Fearne.

“So, where am I, then?” she asked.

“You are in a church. It has no name. This is secluded; forgotten part of London and everyone merely calls it the church.”

“You said I travelled in time. What year is this, then?”

“This is the year 1498. We are currently under the reign of Elizabeth the first,” the monk said. That struck another light in Fearne’s mind.

“Hey, how do you know about Einstein and Edward Bell, they were born way after Elizabeth’s reign?” Fearne asked curiously.

“I tell you again, I know a lot of things.” There was a silence that lasted for a few minutes before Fearne spoke up again.

“How can I get back to my own time? Fearne was terrified that she would be told she was stuck here.

“You must learn to use your mind. Harness your powers. That’s the only way to get back,” the monk thought about something for a second. “You need to practice, and you’re starting now.”

Part III out soon! =D

We seriously need more followers! C'mon it only takes a minute to log into your google account and follow our blog! I mean, what could go wrong? LOL! But anyway here's our part 1 of a new story written by Nusrath Tapadar, enjoy!!!

A Little Thing Called ‘Hope’

1

            I woke up at seven am exactly, stretching as I became accustomed once more to the real world. Slowly, I padded along the expensive, red carpet in the hallway. Thirty minutes later, I was downstairs and ready for school. A sleek black Mercedes waited patiently outside the house as I finished my breakfast. As I stepped outside, the sun was shining and birds sang melodiously in the background. It was a perfect day, yet I was still miserable. That was just the problem; the fact that every day was so ordinary and boring. I was so tired of living the same old routine every single day.

            I passed through the gates of Lady Stephanie Girls School along with a dozen other pupils. The bell rang as soon as I had finished getting my books from my locker. See what I mean? Perfect. Most people would call me crazy for not being grateful with my life the way it already was, but they don’t know what it’s like doing the same thing, day in- and day out.

That was when it all changed.

            There was a new girl in our form, a tall, skinny girl with slightly brown skin and dark, black hair that swirled mysteriously around her hips. She had hazel eyes that caught the attention of whatever they looked at. Being the most popular girl in year ten, I was chosen to show her around for the day. Her name turned out to be Tasneem and she originally came from Persia.

            “Well, Tasneem, welcome to Lady Stephanie,” I said, holding out my hand and smiling at her. “I’m Zara, by the way.”

“Thank you,” she beamed and shook my hand.

“So, what would you like to do? The canteen’s this way, if you’re hungry,” I said, about to lead her through the heavy, oak doors that welcomed pupils and staff into the school’s canteen.

“No thank you, I’m not really that hungry. Let’s just go outside and chat,” she said with a pleading expression that made me agree to her, even though I was starving.

            We walked together through the main door that lead to the school ground and sat at one of the benches on the side.

“Well, what do you want to talk about?” I asked. Tasneem had a small glint in her eye that I wasn’t sure what to make of.

            “How about wishes?” she asked. The glint was stronger now, and more recognisable- though I still couldn’t be sure of what it was. It was strange; the way she was acting as if we had known each other our entire lives.

“Why on earth would you want to talk about wishes?” I queried.

“I’m just obsessed with them, the magic, the mystery, how could you not be?” she said with great enthusiasm.

“With great ease, I assure you,” I smiled.

“So tell me, if you could have any wish in the world- anything at all- what would you wish for?” Tasneem asked.

“That’s easy, I would wish for something exciting, thrilling, something out of the ordinary to happen,” I said carelessly.

“That’s quite a broad category, are you sure you would be content with anything within those boundaries happening?” Tasneem questioned curiously.

“Yeah, why not?” I said, laughing at the eagerness on her face, “Why are you so serious?”

“Oh, no reason. Like I said, I’m just obsessed,” Tasneem smiled. “So you’d definitely want something like that, right?” Tasneem queried once more.

“Yes, I would,” I laughed.

“Well, we’ll see.” She said. I was giggling away, but my face dropped when I saw Tasneem’s solemn expression. The glint in her eye was now completely there, and there was no mistaking what I saw. A shiver ran down my spine.

It was evil.

Calling Bloggers/Advertisers Who Want To Make Money

Do you have a blog? A blog with with lots of viewers? Do you want to make a bit of extra cash in your spare time? Then join the BlogAdvertisingStore today! All you do is write a review for a product or service on your blog as a blog post and you get paid for it! How easy can it be? 

If you are a advertiser and want to expand your market with online advertising then BlogAdvertisingStore is for you! You choose the blogs where you want your honest reviews (Reviewed by bloggers) to be posted and you pay the blogger for it! What a fantastic way to introduce more customers and expand your market! Visit BlogAdvertisingStore today, and start expanding your product/service!!!

Running On Part III

 Running On Part III just for our fabulous readers! But we need more readers, if you like our blog then please do tell others about it, we want as many readers as possible, please support us and get us as many readers as possible! Hope you like this part of Running On, if you have'nt read Part 1 or Part 2, then read them other Part 3 will be a spoilt spoiler! Thankyou, We love supporters in every way! #BlessTheSupporters

I was young, but I wasn’t stupid. I knew better than to look around and scream. I just quickened my pace and took sharp turns. But the footsteps followed me everywhere I went, and I could no longer refrain myself, and turned around. Behind me stood a tall, bony man with a face that resembled a skinless skull. He had a bristly moustache and wore a long, charcoal grey overcoat that reached beneath his legs. There was a grisly presence around him, and I couldn’t help but freeze on the spot and stare at him.

                “What are you looking at?” he said, his voice coarse and deep, and his accent thick Scottish. I could only shake my head and back away. I was only seven. “Where do you think you’re going?”  he asked, with a devilish look on his face. That was all he needed to say. I turned around and ran with all the strength and energy my legs could offer.

                “Don’t run, little girl, I just want to play,” he said, cackling to himself like a madman. I didn’t doubt that he was one. I didn’t really pay attention to where I was going; I just let my legs carry me away. It was a cold, frosty morning, but I was boiling hot in my red overcoat as I ran. I glanced back again to find the man walking calmly after me. Hot tears dribbled their way down my cheek. I turned another corner, the sound of my shoes slapping against the cobbled street blocking out everything else.

                I wiped my teary eyes with the back of my sleeves and ran further.

“Looks like you saved me the trouble of having to drag you to my home,” the man smiled, showing his rotten, yellow, uneven teeth. I looked around frantically, and saw houses running across the sides of the road. I hadn’t really paid attention to my surroundings. The man walked to a dark, Victorian built house made from red bricks, just like the rest of the street. Silently, he pulled out a key from his pocket and slid it into the keyhole. With a single twist of his bony hand, the door opened and he pushed it so that he could enter. But he didn't go in. Instead, he walked slowly towards me, an evil look on his face. I didn't know what to do. all I did was stand and scream. A loud, piercing scream that seemed to never end...

Running On Part 2

Part 2 of our famous ''Running On'', written by Nusrath, an exlusive writer for www.creativstories.blogspot.com ! If you havent read part one, then scroll down and read the beginning of one of the best stories written! We now have a target to get atleast 2500 viewers and 50 followers, please support us by telling everyone you know about our fantastic blog! Remember small things make a big difference! Thankyou! And behold for Part 2, Part 3 shall be posted as soon as we have 1500 viewers! Enjoy.....

Running On Part II

            I sighed.

“Yes mammy,” I said.

“That’s my girl, always a good one, you were!” mammy kissed my forehead and told me I could choose another one. So I settled for another one, a black pair that looked fairly similar, but it still wasn’t the same. There was no shine and no little spark in them.

            We set off back home, going through our usual route through the market. As we walked, we spotted Sam, the cookie man. He came regularly to the market to sell his cookies, and wonderful they were.

“Mammy, the cookie man’s here, the cookie man’s here!” I squealed excitedly.

“Well, why don’t you go and buy us a cookie, each, right honey?” mammy said, pressing a fifty pence coin into my hand. I smiled and ran off with the money to the cookie man.

“Hello, sam!”I said.

“Why hello, darling, would you like a cookie?” he replied with a warm smile.

“Two chocolate nut ones, please” Sam handed me the cookies in a brown paper bag, after I gave him the fifty pence coin. “Thank you!” I shouted, before spinning around. Mammy was gone. I looked around for her, but I couldn’t find her anywhere. I passed stall after stall, asking if they’d seen a tall, pretty woman with red hair, but they all said no.

                                                                       Worried, I retraced my steps until I realised that I wouldn’t find her. I felt my eyes sting and my throat close up, but I told myself I couldn’t be a baby, only little children cried. I decided to make my own way, walked through the lanes that I always saw mammy go through. The one with the tall, brick houses, and then round the left and through path between the terraced houses.

                      After all that time walking, only then did I notice the sound of footsteps behind me. Clip clop, following every move I made…

'Running On'

Like this story? Follow us by logging in with a google account on the right below! And don't forget to spread the word! Thankyou!!! 


(C) All copyrights reserved

Running On.....

*****Our second story, only a chapter, but if we can get 500 viewers by Sunday 2nd October 2011, we'll post the second chapter, if not then next week on on Tuesday 4th October 2011! So if you want it fast, tell your friends about this blog, and subscribe today! So far, we are very happy with our progress, please support us and try to get as many readers! Also, please stay tuned on Tuesday 4th October 2011, as we will reveal who writes these most fantastic stories! Enjoy, subscribe, follow, spread the word and stay tuned! Thank you!!!*****

*** This is the first chapter, we will post the second chapter as listed above ***

Running on

           

            ‘Running, on and on, till time itself becomes withered’

My name is Hannah, and this is why I must run.

            We were at the market. My shoes were worn out, so mammy said she’d buy me a new pair. Together, we walked to our usual shoe stall. The owner was very nice- we called him Jimmy.

“What can I do for you today, Myra?” Jimmy chirped to mammy in his usual cheery tone.

“Oh, just getting new shoes for my little Hannah, here,” mammy replied, patting me on the head.

“Well why don’t you have a look around, Hannah?” Jimmy suggested, gesturing me towards the little girl’s shoes. I simply nodded. Row after row, I inspected each shoe, before I stumbled across a shiny, black pear with a buckle fastening the shoe just under the ankle. They were quite plain, but I had my heart set on them.

“I like these ones, mammy, they’re lovely, aren’t they!” I exclaimed with delight.

“Yes they are love, how much are these, Jimmy?” mammy asked.

“Well, Myra, they’re thirty eight pounds, made of the finest leather. If that’s a bit pricey for you, then I can do you a special deal, just for you,” he winked at mammy. A lot of men seemed to do that to her.

Mammy didn’t seem to take any notice of the wink.

“How much are we talking?” she questioned.

“Well, I can do them for thirty pounds, eight whole pounds off!” he said with excited, wide eyes that were meant to excite us too, but just made him look like someone had punched him in the groin.

“Couldn’t you go any lower, Jimmy love?” mammy pleaded.

“I’m sorry, Myra, but a man has to make a living, I’m already giving them to you cheap. I can’t go any lower.” Mammy spun on her heels and crouched down so that she was eye- level with me.

“I’m sorry, pet, but it’s just too high!” ........ ((To be continued))

Like the story? Check this blog frequently for any great, new stories! Don't forget to bookmark this site , subscribe, follow, spread the word and comment on my posts! :)

Your support is highly appreciated!!!

:D :D :D :D :D

All copyright reserved 

©

Starting Up!

About Nusrath's Novels; This blog was created on the 20th September 2011. It's all about giving readers around the world fascinating short stories to lose themselves in. Watch as these stories hook you in with the power of literacy and take you into the very story itself...


To celebrate the start of this fantastic blog, I give you a brilliant short story composed especially for my first ever readers. I hope you enjoy it! 

A Royal Doll

               

In the heart of London, stood a grand building. In that building was a throne room, with a throne made from solid gold, encrusted with the finest jewels the British could find. On that throne, sat a woman dressed in a deep blue dress with gold embroidery and a pearl detail on the hem and neck area. The dress was made from rich cotton, and in that dress, sat a short, plump woman with hazel-brown hair tied back a bun and matching eyes that pierced through anyone they set sight upon. Her name, Mary Tudor.

                Mary sat sipping her fine, French, red wine, matured for forty-three years. On her side, stood her husband, King Phillip, and on the other her servant, Dursley. She was just about to speak as there was a knock on the heavy, ebony doors. A guard dressed in a red tunic and stockings appeared.

“News has arrived of your sister, your majesty,” he informed, bowing to his queen as he did so.

“Tell me,” Mary nodded. The guard nodded at another person who stood outside. The person appeared to be a short, skinny woman with a long nose that stuck out three and a half inches from her face, and green eyes that were a complete contrast to her yellow skin. She had a puffy red dress with yellow flowers around the hem. The woman curtseyed.

“Your majesty,” she said, her head still low.

“Coleen,” Mary recognised her as her sister, Princess Elizabeth’s, governess.

“Princess Elizabeth has been locked up. She refused at first, but after much persuasion walked through the Traitors Gait.”

“Good.” Mary averted her eyes to a painting on the wall, deep in thought .

“Your highness?” Coleen squeaked. Mary did not reply, but, slowly, swivelled her eyes across the room to Coleen, who stood feebly in the centre of the bright red, velvet rug.

“I was wondering- if I might ask a question? Nothing too personal- just a question?” she stuttered.

“What is it you wish to know?” Mary asked calmly.

“Why did you lock up Princess Elizabeth?” Coleen asked, her face filled with curiosity. For a moment, all was silent. Coleen froze, fearful that she had angered Queen Mary- whose eyes flickered as she watched the red and amber flames of the fire. But then she broke the silence.

“Is it not obvious?” Mary asked, swirling her wine.

“I- well-“Coleen didn’t know what to say.

“Elizabeth is young; she’s beautiful, well, at least more than I am.”

“But your majesty, I don’t understand-“Mary got up from her throne and paced around Coleen in circles.

“Elizabeth is the one they want! She is young, and I am aged! She is a protestant but would not kill Catholics, while they say I slaughter, at my feet, anyone who follows but my religion,” Mary stormed.

 “Your majesty-“Coleen started, but she was cut off.

“Leave me now.”

“Yes, your highness,” Coleen bowed and left, leaving Mary pondering upon her sister and her kingdom.

Phillip cleared his throat and spoke.

“Mary, dear, it is late. You should rest,” he advised,

 “Yes, yes of course,” Mary stood up and handed her empty goblet to Dursley.  She walked towards the door and the guards opened them. Philip followed.

“What is the reason to your hurry, dear?” Philip asked, noticing Mary’s brisk walk.

“It was you that suggested my rest, and now you question me for doing so in a hurry,” Mary snapped.

“I was only asking.”

“Well, then; I advise you not to,” and with that, Mary stormed off to the nearest room. It didn’t matter which one. They were all hers anyway.

                Mary sat down on the end of the four-poster bed. She looked around. The room was painted red, and had a portrait of her father- Henry the eighth- on the wall. There was a fire burning on the hearth. She sat on a chair placed in front of it. Mary gazed into the fire, wondering what time would make of her, what would happen to her kingdom, to Elizabeth.

The heat of the flames was warming, and for the first time in what seemed like ages, Mary felt relaxed. Her mind was soothed and all her troubles and fears seemed to disappear. That was when it happened.

                                

                Only a few miles away, locked up within the gruesome walls of the Tower of London, Princess Elizabeth sat on her stool, playing with some sort of rag doll, a voodoo doll to be precise. In front of her, were amber and red flames, the same colour as her hair.

“She has chosen to make an enemy of her sister, and now she shall face the consequences,” Elizabeth declared, as she reached into a pouch and produced a small, golden handled, dagger.

                “die, Mary Tudor,” she shrieked, “Die!” and with a single, swift movement, Elizabeth sliced off the head of the ragdoll and burgundy coloured blood spilled from the neck of the doll, streaming onto her hand…

Mary felt a throbbing in her thigh, and then in her neck. She felt prickling pains all over her body, like she was being stabbed with a million needles…  Next came pain so fierce, it was beyond her ability to describe. It happened very quickly. The next thing she knew, all was black.

Elizabeth smiled.

“All hail your new queen, my people,” she muttered softly. “Mary Tudor is dead.” .........

Like the story? Check my blog frequently for any great, new stories! Don't forget to bookmark this site and comment on my posts! :)

All copyright reserved

©