The Cursed Darkside 2002

Introduction by Sam King

Darkside June 2002

It was about two years ago, that I came up with the concept for the “Cursed” universe. While I can't now fully remember the genesis for it, I know a good deal of it came from reading Dave Duncan's book, “The Curse” particularly his treatment of those cursed with involuntary shape changing. Over the next few years, I started the story a number of times, never getting very far, and always unhappy with what I did write, and so the concept languished. And then along came the Fictionmania bake sale.

Personally, I feel, that the advent of fictionmania, marks the Golden Age of TG fiction on the internet. Not that there weren't and still are many fine TG sites on the net, but it seemed as if, in the brief year after Mindy started it, that TG fiction exploded. Her excellent site, her mailing list, the chats with authors, including just before the end Jack Chalker, seemed to be pulling in simply phenomenal authors. Well a number of those authors have generously offered their time to help keep Fictionmania alive, and so I was lucky enough to get Darkside, to write this first story for me. I say first story because I always intended it to be an open universe. I don't want to spoil any surprises here, so I'll wait till the tale is complete, to post the rules.

Many, many thanks to the Fictionmania task force especially Darkside.

Sam King
 

Introduction by Darkside


Firstly I want to say thanks to Sam. Mainly for being so patient as months
went by without me sending him anything, and secondly for letting me turn
his excellent story idea into something that only bears a passing resemblance
to it.

As with the Fury saga, this story contains song lyrics to help set the mood
and tone of the story. By reading the story at my website
http://go.to/furysaga you can listen to streaming audio of the songs.

Secondly as many of you will know, this is my last ever TG story(except for
completing an unfinished rewrite of Fury Book's 1 and 2(I hate loose ends)).

I'm finding it harder and harder to get the time to write, and even harder
to get the enthusiasm for writing TG fiction. I started writing to give
something back to the TG community, and to practise writing for more
'mainstream' material. I believe I have achieved those objectives.

Lastly, many thanks to Vickie Tern without who's encouragement and advice I
would never have gone past my first story.

I wrote for feedback, please feed any comments you may have(even a simple two
word mail will do), to either darkside_nym@hotmail.com or Sam1am@att.net
It's your feedback that keeps people writing, and why so many people give their
precious time for free.

Hopefully my stories have taken you to the deepest darkest parts of human
nature, to revenge, hatred, murder and genocide and then on to the parts
that drive us on, those of love, forgiveness, redemption and hope for the
future.

After eight years, about one half million words, just over 1200 pages and a
lot of soul searching I find I have no more to give. They say end on a high,
and I hope Cursed will be that high.

May God go with you in all the dark places where you must walk..

Darkside - June 2002

The Cursed.

Turning and turning in the widening gyre
the falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
the ceremony of innocence is drowned;
the best lack all conviction, while the worst
are full of passionate intensity.
Surely some revelation is at hand;
surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
when a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again; but now I know
that twenty centuries of stony sleep
were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
and what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?

William Butler Yeats

A small forest, near Eyam, Derbyshire England 1172AD

His heart sank to the pit of his stomach as he saw the plume of dark gray smoke rise from above the trees ahead. The blood red streaks of the sunset only served to heighten his concern. This was a bad omen. The smoke started to dissipate as it reached above the trees and it swirled and formed a million shapes and patterns as the wind blew it in all directions.

He urged his horse onward, faster and faster. His back and legs ached from the bone shattering ride that he had forced upon the poor animal. He bent down and whispered an incantation that would give the horse more strength and more speed. It didn't matter to him that it would kill the horse as soon as he stopped; only two things mattered now, more strength and speed!

He could hardly see as night rapidly fell and as he galloped into the forest gloom his fear rose. Not of falling off and hurting himself, but of failing to reach the source of the fire in time. He had to slow down, so as not to get hit by the branches rushing towards him at reckless speed. He trusted the horse to see its way thru, the incantation saw to that. But he could sense that failure and death was only a single mistake away. He ducked down, narrowly avoiding a thick beech branch that sprang at his head, as if waiting for him to come by. Another realization struck him. They knew he was coming!

That didn't matter. Only two things drove him forward; more strength, more speed. The forest was almost as black as coal, and now he could see the orange glow of the fire thru the thick, gorse covered thicket of trees. He slowed down and quickly dismounted, he would have to go on foot the rest of the way. He glanced back at his horse, she had served him well. He counted under his breath, “one, two three..,” The horse rolled its eyes upwards, tried to neigh in pain, but no sound came out. It staggered for a few moments before gently and quietly falling to the ground, dead.

He felt no sadness; it was an animal, nothing more. He quietly made his way into the clearing and had to stifle down a scream.

A young woman and a child of about three had been tied to a long wooden scaffold. Underneath them had been lit a fire, which still continued to blaze into the night. Their once peach white flesh had been charred into dried black husks. He nearly ran out into the clearing, but caution checked him. He wanted to cry, wanted to wail to the gods and demand an answer for why this had been done to them, but better sense prevailed. Then it hit him, the sweet sickly smell of burning flesh, the wind must have changed and now its sickening, awful aroma assaulted him. “My love, My son,” he struggled to say and fought back tears of rage and sorrow.

He looked around the clearing, checking to see if the murderers were still nearby. Then and only then did he rush out into the clearing to see if there was any hope at all.

Summoning his concentration he reached out his left hand and breathed a quenching spell. He closed his eyes and in his minds eye he saw the flames flicker and die down, as if water was being poured on them and extinguishing them. A few moments later he opened his eyes and saw that the once flaming inferno of wood, kindling and oil had been doused.

He ran to the now charred body of the woman and, ignoring the heat clenched her legs tight, tears streaming down his face. Her flesh was hard, crisp and almost too hot to touch. Worse though was the smell, the awful smell of her still burning skin, bone and sinew rammed itself into his brain so much so that he almost recoiled in horror. Only his love for the woman, his wife kept him there, still clinging to her dead and partially cremated body.

He had flash backs of the last time he had held her close, he had just come back from the holy land where he had been searching for relics from the old times and she had been waiting for him for over two years and he had missed her every heartbeat he had been over there.. He let out a long sob; the pain of hurt had to find its way out somewhere.

He let go of her and stared upwards at the body of his son, they had killed his son! Strands of his son's blonde hair still hung from the burnt skull like face. All the skin had been burned away and the once blue eyes, full of life and curiosity were now gone and only the dark, empty eye sockets remained.

He could hold in his grief and anger no longer and let out a howl that seemed to shake the very ground he stood on. His son, they had killed his only son.

He heard the snap of a twig and whirled around and saw ten or more hooded figures were now circling in on him. Why did he not see or sense their presence before? Each of the figures carried a sword and his heart sank as he saw the lethal outline of a longbow and quiver on the back of every figure.

He caught a glimpse of a red cross embroidered in on the breast of one of the hooded figures. Knights Templar! But no, that couldn't be! They would never get involved in such atrocity, but their presence would explain why he was not able to sense the ambush. He gathered his heart, mind and soul together and drew on the anger and power within him. Clenching his fist he went as if to throw a stone at the leading figure. A ball of white, incandescent lightning flew from his open hand and struck the figure.

He expected the figure to scream in pain but the ball lightning just entered the figure and was seen no more. Shock and fear rippled thru his body. Knights Templar should not have been able to defend against that attack so easily. Who were these murderers?

The lead figure spoke, “They died without honor. Screaming and begging for mercy, just like the ungodly demons they were.”

He fought down the anger that welled up within him. That is what they wanted of him, to become so angry he would make an error. The time for anger would come later, not now. He was no use if he was dead. One thing did vex him. He was outnumbered and surrounded, so why did they hesitate to attack him? “You will not take me so easily,” he hissed and readied another attack.

A figure stepped out from behind the row of hooded men, “That will not be necessary, old friend.”

He almost took a step back in shock, “Bedwyr!”

The figure drew his hood back from over his head to reveal a thin, narrow face, framed with long silver gray hair. A pair of piercing blue eyes looked at him in sorrow, “They would not turn y'see?”

The smell of the still burning flesh hit his nostril again and it was all he could do not to vomit in revulsion and shock. He reached into his scabbard and drew his sword. As he held its long, black steel blade it gave him some comfort.

“Come old friend and pupil, let us parley for a while,” Bedwyr replied softly. He recognized it as the same tone Bedwyr had used when he was his student and was struggling to perform the most basic of charms.

Thru fresh tears he managed to stammer, “Why, why?”

“Look around you, old friend. The old ways are dying. The new faith of the little Christs has come and swept all before it. This new god is stronger than our old ones and must be obeyed.”

“What are you saying?” he managed to say. Bedwyr was right, since the Normans came many of his kin had turned toward this new single god. His kind, Bedwyr's kind, were a dying breed.

“I am saying it is time to renounce your power and the ways I taught you. They were..,” Bedwyr paused for a few moments and then added, “mistaken.”

Still clenching his sword tight, his eyes darted around the clearing. He was looking for the slightest weakness he could use to escape. What curse had been put on Bedwyr that would cause him to do such a thing and renounce all that he had worked for?

“Why did you kill my family, my son, my only son. He was but a boy?”

Bedwyr turned his head away, “They had become evil, they were guilty of witchcraft and so had to be cleansed. My friend and my pupil, please turn from your ways of evil and join me or suffer the same fate as they.”

Anger rose inside him until he could bear it no longer. Using all his power he punched a fist at Bedwyr. This time a glowing red ball of fire shot from his hand and exploded on Bedwyr's chest with a loud crack of thunder and bright, blinding burst of flame.

When the smoke and fire had cleared he was staggered to see both Bedwyr and his assailants still standing and untouched.

Bedwyr gave him a sympathetic look, “The power of the new god is way beyond that of the old. These robes we wear have been washed in water blessed by his holiness the pope himself. Nothing on heaven or on earth can touch us, while we still wear them. Now please, no more of this. Here, I have a precious gift for you, “Bedwyr reached beneath his robes and pulled out a leather bound book.”

“Your book of power!” He breathed.

“In a way. This is my copy of the holy scriptures of the one god. It took many months of writing to complete them, and now, I give them to you,” Bedwyr offered the book out in his hands.

He then had an idea, he would take the book and use it learn how to defeat this new enemy. “I will read the book,” he said and took it from Bedwyr.

“Now come with us and be baptized,” Bedwyr stated. It was not a request, more an order.

He saw his chance, one of the guards behind him was glancing around and not looking at him, if he could not harm them directly then maybe a distraction. With the slightest movement of his finger he chanted a noise maker. It was the simplest of spells, but in this case it was his only hope.

A loud crashing sound erupted thru the forest, as though the thunder god himself had descended on the forest. The guard behind him leapt in shock and for the briefest of moments was distracted by the noise.

He saw his chance and jumped at the guard, his sword already in mid swing. He felt a stiff resistance as the sword bit into the guard's fleshy neck. He quickly withdrew it and ran off into the darkness of the forest.

He heard a shot of pursuit and sprinted his way thru thick brambles and thorny bushes. He could feel the thorns scratch his face and hands but he could not afford to slow down. He saw shadows flitting between trees all around him and expected to be captured at any moment, but the crashing sounds of pursuit could still be heard from behind. In the glint of the moonlight, he saw the dim figure of a man, guarding some horses in a small clearing ahead. The man hadn't seen or heard him yet!

Gathering speed he ran up to the man and sank his sword deep into his body. The man screamed in pain and crumpled to the floor. It took both hands to remove the bloody sword from the body and by the time he had jumped onto the nearest horse he could see Bedwyr and his murderous group dash into the clearing. “Stop!” Bedwyr called.

He took no notice and taking hold of the reigns of the horse sped off into the night.

Bedwyr watched his old friend ride off into the night, There was only one thing for it now. He must not be allowed to escape! “Archers ready.”

His compatriots took the longbow's from their backs and readied to fire. Bedwyr hated to do this to his old friend, but it was the only way. Britannia had to be purified. Still, the longbow was the most feared weapon in the world, a trained archer could unleash up to twelve arrows a minute up to a range of nearly three hundred yards and a skilled archer would be able to hit and kill a new target each time. Each arrowhead would have been tipped in blood , faeces and dirt and left to fester for weeks. If the wound were not fatal, infection and disease would soon follow, more then likely killing the victim. Bedwyr breathed deeply, “Fire”

He knew they would use the longbow against him, so he zigged the horse this way and that, trying to put the archers off their aim. arrows whistled past his head. Just as he thought he was clear a sharp, stabbing pain shot thru his shoulder and he slumped forward onto the horse's neck He forced himself back to consciousness and sped off into the night.

Bedwyr watched the arrow imbed itself in the shoulder blade of his target. He had time to see the man slump against the horses neck before the figure galloped into the night. He indicated to his comrades to mount their horses and pursue. He knew what the fleeting figure was capable of doing, should he be allowed to escape. Images of the small boy, learning his first charms sprang into his mind. How things had changed. Bedwyr thought back a few hours when he'd burnt his quarry's wife and child alive because they had refused to let go of the past and embrace the future. He felt sorrow for what he had had to do. He could still hear their screams as the flames started to lick the soles of their feet and the screams of agony rose louder and louder until they seemed to consume the very forest itself. The child had died first, his mothers name on his lips as the fire took him. The mother had died moments later, trying to scream curses at him as she too succumbed to the flames. In his old life this would have troubled him for the rest of this life. However his new church was a jealous one and didn't tolerate witchcraft. He just hoped and prayed his old student would see it that way, either in this life or the next.

Ignoring the pain from his wounded shoulder he sped into the night. He had cast a vision charm on the horse so it would not fall or stumble in the darkness. Before he could grieve or think on revenge he had to escape his pursuers, but where. Bedwyr knew all the secret places to hide. Bedwyr himself had founded many of them so he could not go there. He did know of one place he could go. Hopefully Bedwyr would not know of this place as he had only discovered it on his journey back to see his family. Rage, sorrow and unbelief crashed thru him like a bolt of lighting. Quickly he put down his feelings, he dare not succumb to them, yet. When he was safe he would allow himself to mourn, and after the mourning would come such revenge that even the gods themselves would tremble at his wrath!

He awoke, he knew not where or when, but from the sun shining bright, dazzling rays thru an open window he knew it must be sometime after noon. His vision was still blurred somewhat but he could make out the shape of a room, a table to one side and sitting, on a what looked like a wooden stool was the figure of a woman. He tried to move to get a better view but a stabbing pain shot thru his shoulder and he cried out in pain.

“You rest easy now, Myrddin. I've put some healing balm on your wound, it will stop it rotting,” the woman's voice was comforting, like his mothers was when he was young.

His vision cleared and he saw that the room looked like the bedroom of an inn. How did he get here!

“It's alright. You are with friends now. They won't find you here,” again the woman tried to comfort him. By the looks of her she was forty years old. Her face was wizened and deep lines creased out from a pair of deep brown eyes. Her graying hair had been tied back and by her tanned complexion he worked out she had worked on the land for some years.

“Who are you? Where am I? How do know my name?” He demanded.

“My name is Brigid, you are in my husband's inn at Eyam. We know your name because of who came looking for you.”

Myrddin eyes opened wide in fear, “Bedwyr!”

Brigid nodded, “That was the name. He came visiting the village with ten of those dark monks of his. Offered five gold coins to anyone who knew where you were.”

“You didn't..,” Myrddin started.

“Fear not. No money is worth a man's life. My husband found you, on near the stone circle two days ago. Figured you'd tried to use it to heal yourself. We heard what had been done to that woman and child near the ring cairn. Old Cai found them yesterday morning. He saw the crows swooping and circling above the wood. Thought he'd take a look and found em. Been burned alive by the looks of em he said.”

Myrddin glanced away in sorrow, “My wife and son,” he whispered.

Brigid gave him a look of sympathy, “Thought as much. We didn't much like the look of that Bedwyr when he came looking for ya. We though you might need some help. It's not our way to give away strangers, no matter who is looking for them.”

Myrddin managed a smile, “That I do,” he silently thanked the gods he would live another day.

“Rest now, “Brigid said softly and suddenly he felt as though a stupor had come over him. He closed his eyes and slept.

Myrddin awoke to find it almost dusk. The flickering light of a candle gave just enough light for him to see by. He tried to sit up and much to his surprise his shoulder felt much better.

The door opened and Brigid walked in, carrying a large wooden bowl of what looked to be lamb broth, “You looked as though you could do with some of this,” she smiled and gave him the bowl.

Myrddin ate one spoonful of the thick meat and vegetable stew and soon devoured the rest. He didn't realize he had been so hungry, “How long was I asleep?,” he asked, handing the empty bowl back to Brigid.

“Two weeks.”

“That long!”

“Your wound was bad, had it not been for my mothers healing balm you would have died,”

Myrddin shuffled upright on his straw mattress, the pain in his shoulder had all but gone and only a nagging ache remained. “I am in your dept. What can I give you in return?”

“Nothing is required. A man who has lost so much, needs to give nothing in return.”

Images of his wife and son, hanging on that scaffold and of the flames burning away their charred flesh hit him anew. For the first time in weeks he allowed himself to cry for them. Brigid seeing his pain and anguish sat down beside him and put his head to her ample bosom. She knew this had to be cried away.

Myrddin found that it gave him small comfort to release his dark despair to an almost total stranger. Mixed in with his grief was a fury that seemed to grow inside him. Bedwyr would pay for what he had done, those with Bedwyr would pay and in spite of all their kindness the entire world would know what it was like to feel the pain he felt now, “they will pay, the whole world will pay,” he sobbed.

A few days later Myrddin gave Brigid and Cai a fond farewell. He owed them much and their hospitality would not be forgotten or remain un-rewarded. The last the few days he had spent in almost isolation, trying to come to terms with his loss and his betrayal. In talking with Cai and Brigid he knew where he was going to go. It was many days ride to the south but the marshes around Ely gave perfect refuge. No one, but a few locals knew their way thru the treacherous marsh and bog of that area and but a few generations or so ago Hereward the wake had held out for years, using the marshes as an impenetrable fortress against the Norman invader. Only the traitorous monks of Ely caused his downfall, or so the legend went. Now, it was the ultimate place of sanctuary for those who did not wish to be found. Of course scum and villainy was rife, but he hoped his status as one of the grand mages of the north would hold him in some regard. Bedwyr and his kind, the dark monks would not be able to find him there. He hoped that by now, the trail had gone cold and so he would be left in peace. The peace he needed to avenge his family and ensure the world would never forget the name Myrddin.

Ten years later.

Myrddin sat on his basic wooden stool and studied the manuscript in front of him. He glanced out of the window and saw a landscape of dark, almost black marsh and of miles upon miles of desolated barren beauty. The scenery was dominated by the sky, which seemed to go on forever and now, as the sun set it was alight with gashes of orange, yellow color. As though the sky itself was on fire. He had never got used to this places savage climate, as with no hill or valley to stop it, the wind would blow with an icy ferocity for most months of the year. That suited him perfectly. The climate and scenery outside matched how he felt inside himself, empty, cold and devastated. No one had come looking for him in this place, Bedwyr must think he was dead, or that even he was afraid to cross this most dangerous of places.

Ten years had passed, slowly and inexorably but he had quickly gained the local's trust and in some cases friendship by acting as healer and soothsayer to his local village. It had taken three years of study to decide what he needed to do, in order to avenge his family upon an evil world. Bedwyr's new holy book had been right about one thing. Mankind was inherently evil and needed to be brought back into line. Even this Christ who he had read about said that, but had gone about it in the wrong way. True power and true victory came from strength and fury, not the giving freely of oneself. He, Myrddin saw this clearly, and had used it to identify what he needed.

Six years ago he had met an escaped prisoner from the crusades and this follower of the God 'Allah' who had told him of the wondrous treasures and artifacts that had been found in the ruins of the cities of the Jews. The man, called Osman had belonged to a secret Guild of assassins, who would perform any task, if the price were right. Within a few months the men had become firm friends and Osman promised that he would return with the artifact that Myrddin sought.

Now, a messenger from the next village had told him that Osman had returned and bought with him a large wooden crate. At long last, the tool of his revenge was at hand. Osman was less than a day away and after tomorrow it would not matter if he lived or died.

The next morning was the strangest once Myrddin could ever remember. Although it was nearly noon the darkness had only just begun to brighten and the usual squawking of the gulls and birds could not be heard. He heard the sound of several horses drawing to the outside of his house. There was a loud knocking on the door and a loud, brash foreign sounding voice boomed, “Myrddin. Open up I have it!”

Myrddin leapt up of his chair, his pulse racing in anticipation, “Osman, old friend!” he called and flung the door open.

Osman stood there, soaking wet and muddy from the journey, but his face was smiling in triumph. Myrddin looked over his shoulder and saw six bearers lifting a large and heavy looking crate from the cart. “Please come in, and your bearers too. You must be frozen. Tell me all about it,” Myrddin beamed.

It took a few minutes for the crate to be lifted into Myrddin's house and during that time Myrddin took the opportunity to throw a few more logs on the fire that had been smoldering for most of the night. He also put some vegetable soup he had prepared earlier, on to reheat. Osman walked in, closed the door and gave his friend a large hug, “Allah be praised. We were successful!”

Handing Osman and his porters a fresh bowl of soup Myrddin sat down on the floor, near to the fire and beckoned Osman to tell all.

Osman took a sip of soup and started to talk, “It was just where you thought it would be. We followed the path of the river Tigris until it met the River Euphrates and then headed east. It took us many years of searching but, in what looked like an abandoned plantation we found a large black granite slab. It looked as though it was covering something but it was like solid rock. We spent over a year, digging our way thru it so thick was it! We would have given up, but we knew this was the right place, something told us it was! In the end we came upon a dark cavern. I have seen nothing like it. Every torch we lit was snuffed out almost right away so we had to work in almost pitch darkness. We lost ten men inside that dark pit. Four of them accidentally brushed the side of the object and were instantly turned to fire and sulfur. You told us not to touch the object, but even we did not expect the ark of the covenant to have this effect.”

Myrddin gave Osman a smile and then a nod, “I'm afraid I misled you a little old friend.”

Osman gave Myrddin a look of suspicion. “Then, what in Allah's name did we bring you? We almost had a mutiny on board every ship we took it on. Where it not for my Guild companions the Ark would be at the bottom of sea.”

Myrddin breathed out, “From my studies of Bedwyr's holy book I found out several things. I told you about the Ark of the covenant and how it held the ten commandment's given to Moses. It was also used as a totem in battle, and was said to represent the one God's power on Earth. Those who stole it had plagues and curses bought upon them until they gave it back.”

“Yes, the Koran speaks of such an object. It also says the ark was covered in gold. The object we found is as black as the night.”

Myrddin smiled at Osman, “Then you DID find it! There is a theory among the little Christ's that everything the one God creates, his archenemy Lucifer counterfeits. I reasoned that if the one God had created this all powerful ark then Lucifer would have done the same. The ark you uncovered is Lucifer's not the one God's!”

Osman was shocked to the core of his being, “What!. I suspected it was evil, but this!”

“The world is an evil place, it deserves nothing less than the ultimate evil unleashed upon it. My friend and mentor allowed my wife and son to be burned alive. What kind of a world allows that to happen, my gods did not watch over them, so they deserve to be punished. The Book of the one god is right; mankind is evil and deserves to face a greater evil.”

Osman's face shot his friend a look of fear and of betrayal, “Myrddin. What are you talking about?”

“Osman, You know how they burned my wife and child while they were still alive. You remember how I told you that I found their charred bodies still hanging from the gallows where they had been murdered and how I barely escaped with my life. The anger and desire for revenge grew inside me year after year until I knew what must be done. I will unleash such a blight on mankind that they will suffer for all eternity. You, my friend have given me the power to do it.”

Osman's heart sank. What had he done! He had thought Myrddin had wanted the ark to benefit all mankind, that he had wanted atone for all the evil thoughts he had had over the years. How wrong he was. He tried to stand, to draw his sword but found he could not. He glanced towards his men and saw them clutching their stomachs in pain, moments later a hammer blow of pain struck him, “What...” he managed to croak.

“Don't worry old friend. The potion I put in you soup will soon relieve you of you life. I hope your God is merciful You have done well,” Myrddin glanced down at Osman now writhing in pain on the floor.

Happy that things were progressing well Myrddin turned his attention to the night black ark. He walked closer to it and saw strange writing inscribed in what looked like gold on the lid and on the sides. Before he could use it, he would have to translate the writings. His thoughts were interrupted by the cries of the dying men around him. He would have to wait until they had passed on before looking at the ark again.

A sudden draught of air made him whirl around and he saw that the door was open, he glanced around the room and discovered to his shock that Osman was missing. He must have escaped!

Myrddin gave a wry smile. It really didn't matter too much. Osman was dying and would never make it out of the marshes alive, besides it would save him the trouble of buying another body. By now the moans had subsided and Osman's men were still. The poison had worked well, better than expected.

Not waiting to dispose of the bodies, Myrddin turned his attention back to the ark. He knew better than to touch the ark itself. If the ark of the one god was deadly to the touch then who knew what effect the ark of Lucifer would have? He ached to open it up and look inside, but again his natural caution took over. It was likely to have traps and safeguards to stop the unwary or foolish, and Myrddin was no fool. He would wait and he would study.

Days flew by and little by little Myrddin managed to translate what was said on the side of the ark. It seemed odd to him that he managed to translate so easily. It was as if someone wanted him to read what was said on the outside. He had taken the time to write down and record everything he had discovered. It helped him to remember. On the left hand side of the ark was written. “All praise and glory to the light bringer, true ruler of all creation,” on one end “The secrets to all life and knowledge are within”.

Underneath these proclamations were inscribed instructions on how to open the ark. He had to fashion poles of the purest yew and slide them into small holes each side of the lid, and then lift. Anything else would kill him. He glanced to the corner of the room, where two finest yew poles lay. The village carpenter had delivered them just this morning.

He turned his attention to the inscriptions nearest too him “Honor goes to the prince of the air, for he has freed all mankind from the yoke of the Most High”

Underneath that in small, precise writing was written something that he could not quite make out. He could see the word 'curse' but not much else. He sighed. It would have to wait until the morrow. He had been at this for hours. He thought on the word 'curse', yes it seemed as though he was very close indeed.

Part of him, a small diminishing part of him told him to stop what he was doing. He thought of Brigid, who had saved his life so many years ago. The times he had shared with his wife and son came into mind. Would they be proud of him for what he was about to do? Did they want him to unleash such power on an unsuspecting world? He settled down to rest and was soon fast asleep.

He awoke the next morning after having the most vivid dream of his life. He rushed to his work desk and wrote down the details as best as he could remember.

He was visited in his dream by a being of such radiant beauty that he could not find the words to describe it. Jewels of every description encrusted the beings shining golden cloak and robes. He only saw a brief glimpse of the beings face and it was beyond beautiful.

“Who are you? Are you the one god?” He remembered saying.

“You can call me light bringer, my child,” the beings voice was sweater than any he had ever heard.

“Have you come for your ark?”

“Not yet, what do you want?” Light Bringer asked.

“I want justice,” Myrddin scribbled down the words, remembering feeling his pulse race in anticipation.

Light bringer pointed a ringed finger at Myrddin and instantly Myddin found himself staring again at the charred remains of his family.

Myrddin paused, his quill needing fresh ink. The images was fresh in his mind. Memories he had suppressed for over ten years came to the fore. He tipped his quill in the ink and continued to write.

“I too seek justice. Open my ark and receive your justice,” light bringer stated.

“It was you, you showed me how to read the writing on the side,” Myrddin wrote down, still remembering the triumph he felt inside.

Light bringer simply said, “Yes.”

“What will it do? I know it will bring curses on the world, but I do not know what.”

Myrddin could feel light bringer smile, a triumphant smiled, “It will bring a curse such as mankind has never seen. It is a living curse, one that will grow, think and change for all eternity.”

Myrddin liked the sound of that. At last his wife and child would be avenged.

Mryddin finished writing and walked over to the ark. The inscription that had defeated him yesterday was now clear. He read it out loud to himself, “Woe to you, who defies the light bringer, woe to those who do not eat from the tree of life, woe to whole of creation, for the curse is at hand.”

Myddrin smiled, now was as good a time as any. He walked over to the far corner and picked up the two yew poles. He located the holes in the black marble lid and slid the pole in. He was surprised at how easily it fitted in. The second and last pole slid in just as smoothly.

Suddenly there was a loud knock at the door and a loud voice called out, “Myddin open up.”

Myrddin took a step back in shock, Bedwyr. How had he found him?

There was a loud crash and Bedwyr burst in, followed by ten armed men. Another man accompanied him; it was Osman!

“Thank the lord we are not too late,” Bedwyr breathed and glanced at the still shut ark.

“Bedwyr, Osman, How!” Myrddin shouted. He would not be foiled, not now!

“Take him,” Bedwyr ordered his men.

Bedwyr's men rushed at Myrddin who bolted around the other side of the ark. Myrddin grabbed both poles and shouted, “Stay or i'll open it.”

Bedwyr screamed “STOP!” to his men who froze.

“You should be dead,” Myrddin called out to Osman.

“Normally yes, but you will find that we of the Guild have many talents, of which survival is the greatest. I only took one mouthful of your soup and it was nearly enough to kill me. I knew you must be stopped and summoned Bedwyr. Old friend, please do not do this. Think of those who have helped you. Does the world deserve such a thing as you want to do”

“How do you know what opening this will do? The light bringer himself has told me, told me that I will get justice.”

Sensing things were getting desperate, Bedwyr pleaded, “We do not know the specifics but do you want mankind to be blighted for all eternity? Surely those unborn do not deserve that.”

“Like my son deserved his fate? Like my wife,” Myrddin sneered.

“That was long ago. I was wrong Myrddin, I was so wrong. I thought you dead. For the sake of our friendship and our future please forgive me. The one God has, so please forgive me,” Bedwyr pleaded.

Myrddin noticed the tears in Bedwyr's eyes, there was no doubt he was sincere. He tightened his grip on the yew poles, “You God may have forgiven you, you killed them in his name. You showed them no mercy, neither shall I you.”

Myrddin shoved with all his might and the lid came loose. At the same time he felt an almighty searing pain in his chest and looked down to see Bedwyr's sword jutting from his chest. Still hanging onto the poles he collapsed onto the floor, dragging the lid off as he fell.

“NOOO!” Bedwyr screamed as all of a sudden a mighty wind, blew open all the doors of the house and seemed to shake the house to its very foundations.

From the now open Ark, rays of black light erupted from the inside, and a loud peel of thunder shook the whole house. The black light punched holes in the roof, letting the daylight stream in. Seconds later the light was extinguished, plummeting the room into near darkness.

Tormented screams of thousands of voices filled the air, deafening all in the room. The ark started to glow orange and red as molten, red-hot magma started to pour out of the now opened inside. Bedwyr was almost shook off his feet as the ground seem to heave an shake beneath him.

“Quick we must close it, before its too late!” Bedwyr shouted above the screams and the wind.

One of Bedwyr's men tried to pick up the lid but slipped and he just touched the exposed black marble. There was a bright flash of fire and smell of sulfur and the man was instantly turned to ash.

Pressing against the wind Bedwyr and Osman managed to grab hold of the yew poles and lift the lid back onto the top of the casket. The heat from the magma was becoming unbearable as they moved it back into place. Summoning all their strength of will and might they were slowly moving it back in place.

All of a sudden dark shapes, hideous in nature erupted from between the gaps and flew up out of the holes in the roof, screaming insults and curses as they flew, firstly around the room. With a final scream of anger and fury they flew thru the holes in the roof.

“Nearly,” Bedwyr breathed. The demons that had escaped just now would cause untold havoc, but his fear told him something more malevolent was still inside.

The lid was nearly back in place when a black scaly clawed hand reached up out of the ark and pushed it off again. The creature, if it was a creature gave a loud scream, as though in triumph and rose into the air. Bedwyr only caught a glimpse of its face but for the rest of his life he would have nightmares. It was though all the pain, hatred and sorrow of the world had been given a face. Quickly lifting the lid back into place, he and Osman managed to close the ark once more.

The creature turned to Bedwyr and smiled, it was all Bedwyr could do to look away. In his mind images from his past assaulted him, everything he had done wrong in the past was as though it had happened that second. Somehow he found the strength to push it to one side. He had only one chance now. He alone did not have the faith or power to banish the creature, but maybe he could bind it until someone came who could. “I bind you!” he shouted.

The creature gave a loud laugh and the screams of pain and horror continued to attack everyone in the room. One of Bedwyr's men tried to slash at the creature with his sword and to Bedwyr's horror the sword passed right thru the creature. How could it be so solid and yet the sword had passed thru it, as though slashing at air? The creature breathed a yellow, sulfurous gas over its attacker and the man shouted in pain.

Bedwyr looked on as the man's body seemed to twist and flow. In a blinding series of light and fire the man's body seemed to take on the forms of animals, men, women and mixtures in between. Moments later in a bright flash of fire and lighting that was so bright Bedwyr had to shield his eyes, the man had turned to ash.

The creature started to rise, as though to escape from the house.

“I bind you in the name of the risen Christ!” Bedwyr shouted, “Men, Do not look at its face, cover your eyes! God will give you the power. In the name of Christ you are BOUND!” Bedwyr shouted at the creature once more

The creature gave a loud howl, as though in pain and stopped its ascent.

Taking encouragement from Bedwyr, his men repeated Bedwyr chant.

The creature tried to crash its way thru the thatched roof but was seemingly held back by an invisible force. Bedwyr kept chanting, trying to remember his exorcism mantras. The creature must not be allowed to escape.

The creature turned its attention to its assailants and stretched out its clawed hand. Blood red beams of light spat out from its hand and struck another of Bedwyr's men. The man glowed red, then yellow and then in split second of melting bone and flesh vanished.

For the first time fear gripped Bedwyr. Could nothing stop this creature from the pits of hell! He had already lost three men to it, and although it must be weak from being imprisoned for so long and the exorcism mantra's were starting to work he didn't know how long he could hold out for. “Lord help us!” Bedwyr called out loud. For a moment he was tempted to fall back on his old arts, but nothing he could think of would be of any use against such a terror. For the first time in his life he felt out of his depth.

Osman had drawn his sword and was about to attack the creature when Bedwyr screamed at him to get back. The warning was just in time as the creature was about to fire another fiery bolt at Osman.

Osman managed to dive out of the way as the bolt flew past his head and with a loud crash caused a large section of wall to explode. The wall then caught on fire, which was quickly spreading outwards.

Thankful of at least a little light a thought struck Bedwyr. He had heard of swords being blessed by wise men and prophets before, that by doing so they had gained power beyond their strength. It had to be worth a try now. He ran to help Osman up, “Give me your sword.”

“You saw what happened,” Osman breathed.

“Give it to me,” Bedwyr demanded.

Reluctantly Osman gave Bedwyr his curved scimitar.

All he needed was a few moments, Bedwyr called “Men Pray! Pray like you've never done before!” He was already three men down; he just hoped the spiritual assault would be enough to quell the creature while he carried out his idea.

Bedwyr's plea seemed to lift the prayers and chants of his men and the creature seemed to be fighting against invisible chains once more.

Bedwyr held Osman's scimitar in front of him and prayed, “Most high God, grant us your protection in our darkest hour. Let you word and power fall over us.”

The creature gave a loud cry of pain and in spite of its efforts to escape sank a little lower to the ground.

Bedwyr continued to bless the scimitar he held in front of him, “Most high fill me with your power, equip my arm with your might and wash this sword in your holy blood.” To Bedwyr's amazement, the tip of Osman's scimitar began to bleed. Within moments the blade was covered in deep, arterial blood. Bedwyr went to touch the blood that now covered the entire curved blade of the scimitar but just before he could touch it the blood vanished, leaving the gleaming metal of the sword once more.

The creature cried a scream of rage and Bedwyr saw it reach out its claw once more. Bedwyr stood his ground and held the scimitar, so that its blade was facing the creature. Bedwyr managed to just see the bolt of red fire spit from the creature's outstretched claw. The bolt struck the sword and ricocheted off the blade, knocking Bedwyr of his feet and throwing him back several feet. The bolt had struck the edge of the roof, setting the thatch and wall ablaze.

Bedwyr stood up, still holding the sword upright, “Behind me men,” he called and moved into the attack.

He lunged at the creature's chest but it side-stepped and started to breath its deadly, sulfurous breath at him. As if working on its own his arm brought the scimitar down and seemed to scythe thru the gas, dissipating it as it went. Again, as though being worked by someone else, the scimitar slashed upwards and Bedwyr felt it dig into the flesh of the creature.

With a howl of pain the creature, readied another attack. Bedwyr noticed that his blow had cut a gash several inches long in the belly of the creature. It was oozing thick black liquid that was slowly congealing and healing itself.

Another fiery red bolt was fired from the creature, and the scimitar seemed to catch it and deflect it harmlessly out of a hole in the roof.

Bedwyr moved closer in, the prayers and chants of his men behind him and the knowledge that at last; he seemed to have a weapon that was of use gave him courage.

Again, as soon as he neared the creature his arms felt guided where and how to attack. The creature took a swipe at him with its massive clawed fist but somehow the sword parried the blow and again he felt the blade dig into its flesh. He looked up and saw the creature's hand, almost severed and bleeding black tar like ooze onto the floor. Wherever the tar landed was instantly melted into a glowing red pool of magma.

A loud crash diverted Bedwyr's attention for a split second. A beam that had caught on fire had now burned thru. So busy was he fighting against the creature he had forgotten about the house, which once on fire in a few small places was now threatening to become a full scale blaze.

By now the creature was starting to weaken. The last assault by Bedwyr and his companions seemed to have taken its toll. Although its clawed hand had partially healed Bedwyr could still see dark, reddish flesh inside a huge gash. The creature was struggling now, as though being bound up in chains. Still chanting Bedwyr saw to his relief that it was slowly sinking to the floor.

'That's it. Get back to the abyss where you belong', Bedwyr thought as he struggled against the wails of pain, now coming from the creature itself. As soon as the creatures scaled and clawed foot touched the floor there was a tremendous Crack, like thunder and the ground seemed up open up beneath it. With the sound of splitting rock a fissure formed in the floor and in the dimness of the room it seemed to go down forever.

Again the power or whatever had been guiding Bedwyr's arm took control of him and he threw the scimitar at the creature's chest. Bedwyr looked on in amazement as the sword seem to change direction in mid air and avoided being swatted out of the way by the creatures good arm. The creature gave an almighty roar of pain as the scimitar sank deep in its chest. Still struggling and screaming against the force that was trying to send it into the chasm below it pulled at the sword, but every time it tried to grab it, the creature would call out in great pain.

Inch by inch the creature was being dragged down into the opened pit. It was now up to its chest and was scrabbling for grip on the walls of the crevice that had opened up. Anger built up inside Bedwyr. It wasn't anger born from any human emotion, more like a feeling of being defiled, as if this creature had no place being created in the first place. “To me, sword!” Bedwyr called out and from the creatures chest the sword flew back to Bedwyr's outstretched hand.

Pointing the sword at the creature Bedwyr imagined the anger and outrage he felt being channeled thru the blade of the sword and out of the tip. He just had chance to see a massive white beam of light erupt from the tip of the sword and pierce the exposed chest of the creature. The beam punched thru the creature's body and the ground shook as it struck the floor. Moment's later Bedwyr was blown several feet backward under the force of the beam. When Bedwyr managed to open his eyes he just caught the creatures head sinking into the deep crevice. With a final roar of outrage, fury and pain the creature was gone

The darkness that swept over the room so quickly vanished, and daylight shone in thru multiple holes in the room. The screams and fire went as soon as they had come and even the deep chasm had sealed up without leaving a mark. Bedwyr looked around him.

To his amazement all the fires had been extinguished and the walls showed no signs of the massive holes that been punched in them. The room however was a mess, the wind had knocked over almost every item of furniture, several terracotta plates, bowls and tankards had also been shattered. Bedwyr walked over to the Myrddin's dead body and pulled his sword from Myrddin's bloodied chest. Bedwyr looked at Osman in deep sadness.

“Why so sad? The creature is gone.” Osman asked.

Bedwyr looked around him and shook his head, “It is bound and defeated, but not gone forever. We did not kill it, it was weakened from its long imprisonment. If it emerges again I do not think we will defeat it so easily.”

Osman glanced down at the floor where the creature had gone to, “It will come back?” Easily! Bedwyr thought that the battle was easy! He thought. Osman secretly hoped he wouldn't be around to witness it again

Bedwyr nodded. “We've have bought ourselves time, time to study how to defeat it and time to work out how to prevent the blight from falling upon us. Here take this,” and gave Osman his sword back.

“What did you do to my sword, that was the turning point,” Osman asked and examined his scimitar. It showed no signs of the battle and looked exactly the same as it ever had done.

“I called upon the one God to give us a weapon to fight this creature with. It appears as though he heard our plea.”

Bedwyr turned to his men, “Thank you my brothers. Your courage and faith made the difference.”

Osman thought back to Bedwyr's words a few moments ago, “How long have we got?” Osman asked tentatively.

Bedwyr shrugged, “Who knows. When the world's evil has spread too far. When the end times are near it will emerge, if we do not move to stop it now. As the world's evil grows, so shall its power of that I have no doubt.”

“Why have all the fires gone, and the walls repaired,” Osman asked in amazement.

“That I do not know. Only that I am glad they have. Come we will collect Myrddin's notes and we will send for a cart to move that,” Bedwyr pointed at the black ark, “To a place where it can do no more harm. I will then embark to Rome to plea to his holiness to give me the scholars we require to prevent the creatures release once more. Come my friends we have much to do!”

In a place that no light had ever shone, no ray of sunshine had ever permeated down; the curse struggled against its chains. It would wait until its strength grew and it could emerge once more. The one who bound it was wrong. It had not been defeated, nor made powerless, instead of lying dormant and conquered, it would seethe for a thousand years.

-- oo -- oo --

“In the latter part of the twentieth century 'the age of enlightenment' was seen as the triumph of science over superstition. In the first years of the twenty first century, 'the age of enlightenment' was now seen as the death of hope and the shattering of dreams; for the curse had returned, and all knowledge on how to prevent it had been lost in the mists of time.”

Excerpt from “The Origins of the curse' By Prof Richard nee Jane Andrews, Chair Magic Studies, MIT. ISBN 353245543

Eight hundred and thirty one years later.

“Right, your money NOW!” The mugger shouted at the helpless woman and thrust his knife closer to her jugular vein.

“Pl.. Please don't hurt me,” the woman whimpered and beckoned for the mugger to take her purse.

“Oh no I won't hurt you. You're much too cute to hurt,” the mugger sneered.

Fear rippled thru the woman, like an icy cold shiver. She felt the muggers hand run up her skirt and she recoiled in horror as he felt her touch her pussy. She tried to scream but the sound didn't come.

Deep inside a place where no light had ever shone, no ray of sunshine had ever permeated down the curse pulsed with the power of the evil and corruption that had been feeding it, healing it, growing it for the past eight hundred years. He felt the mugger's pleasure in raping the woman and with a last push the chains that had held it captive snapped. Finally after centuries of torment it was free and more powerful than it could ever remember.

The curse had come upon the world.

-- oo -- oo --

“Everyone can remember where they were when the curse first struck. In the wink of an eye three million people, worldwide were changed on the first day alone. Of course these numbers seem almost trivial now. At first there was confusion, then panic set in. As the numbers grew from three million, to eight million to sixty million there was hardly a man, woman or child on the face of the planet who didn't think that the end of the world had come upon us.”

Excerpt from “The Origins of the curse' By Prof Richard nee Jane Andrews, Chair Magic Studies, MIT. ISBN 353245543

Curse +724 Days Pat's Story - Sugar Mice

I picked up my guitar from where it lay and packed it in its battered plastic case. I was just about to jam shut the lid when my eye caught the capo, lying just under the bed. I retrieved it and put it around the neck of the guitar. After grappling to get the clips on the case shut I picked it up, blew a kiss to the photo of my ex wife and closed the door. I had gone as far as the stairs when I remembered I'd forgotten to take my antibiotics. The last thing I needed now was the plague. I dashed back inside, poured myself a glass of water and rummaged around in a kitchen drawer for my bottle of antibiotics. A few moments later I'd swallowed two little white pills and dashed back out again.

I had ten minutes to walk to the coffee house where I was employed as 'the live music', it was loads of time even in the dreary wet November day. What in hell was I doing in New York, four thousand miles away from home and scratching a living by playing in second rate coffee bars? It wasn't as though many people came out anymore.

Only three years ago the streets of New York had been crowded to the point on claustrophobia, now two years after the plague had struck their numbers had thinned to a third of what they had been. Fear ruled the streets of New York, just as it did in LA, Lisbon or London. Still, live goes on, people need to eat, drink and meet and that's where I fit in. I'm the 'entertainment'.

It's odd how things change, only six months ago I was successful lawyer, on the verge of partnership in a small firm in Iowa. Then the partners caught the plague and the firm closed overnight. It's then that my wife announced she was leaving me, for no good reason it seemed. Just that 'we had grown apart' and she needed some space. I tried my damndest to get her back, but she didn't want to see me. No job, no wife and no home. So that was it, my life was fucked. .

A warning shout bought me back in to reality. The people in front of me had scattered in all directions, as though fleeing from something. I didn't see what the problem was straightaway but walking, no stumbling towards me was a man, well a wino really. What made people run in terror was the man's face. Half of it was that of a young Asian woman with long dark hair. The other half, as though split down the middle, was that of a sixty year old man. FUCK, Plague!!

I sprinted out of the man's path. Why in hell wasn't he in a camp? He knew the rules, everyone did! I dived into an alleyway, and far enough out of the way so as not to get anywhere near him. I waited for a few minutes before venturing out again. Man, that was close!

The rest of my trip to 'Joey's coffee house' was uneventful. I opened the glass plated door, disinfected my hands in the supplied sink near the door and walked inside. As per usual the place was nearly empty. I have no idea how Joey manages to make enough money to keep it open. Oh well, I guess that's his problem.

“Hey Pat. Thought the plague'd got ya,” Joey's heavy Bronx accent called out to me from across the room.

“Nearly did. Some dumb wino walking out in broad daylight,” I replied. I placed the guitar case on a vacant table, and took out my guitar.

“Where is everyone?” I asked. Usually there were a few people just stopping in for a coffee and bagel before work. This morning Joey had only about ten customers.

Joey looked at me with a look that summed up how he felt about his business slowly going down the pan. He wasn't alone, just about everyone's business was going down the pan. It's hard for anyone to make money when people are afraid to leave their homes, “You gonna talk or do what I pay ya for?” Joey commented.

I shrugged. I hope Joey wasn't expecting me to sing anything light hearted first thing. I picked up my guitar and gave it a quick tune. I was about to start on a rendition of 'I don't like Monday's' by the Boomtown rats, but I thought back to the wino I'd seen a few minutes before. My running from him was a natural reaction but I felt sorry for him. It wasn't his fault he had the plague. It wasn't anyone's. Was he and myself so dissimilar? His life had fallen apart, just like mine had. Soon he'd wind up in a camp, cut off from the rest of society until he was given a clean bill of health and who knows how long that would be. I'd been thrown out of my home too. I smiled to myself, 'this is song for both of us”. Adjusting the guitar on my lap I started to sing.

“I was flicking through the channels on the TV
On a Sunday in Milwaukee in the rain
Trying to piece together conversations
Trying to find out where to lay the blame

But when it comes right down to it there's no use trying to pretend
For when it gets right down to it there's no one here that's left to blame 

Blame it on me, you can blame it on me
We're just sugar mice in the rain 

I heard Sinatra calling me through the floorboards
Where you pay a quarter for a partnership in rhyme
To the jukebox crying in the corner
While the waitress is counting out the time 

For when it comes right down to it there's no use trying to pretend
For when it gets right down to it there's no one really left to blame
Blame it on me, you can blame it on me
We're just sugar mice in the rain”

Curse +730 Days Maki's story - Homesick

God, I hate America. Why in hell did my parents insist on sending me to this dumb ass college in LA? Today was turning out to be a pretty crappy day, as usual! Not only did I have double European history I also had to put up with Dr Sellick all afternoon. At the start of the year I was so excited to be on a student exchange to America but now I'm regretting every moment of it. Because of this damn plague I have to disinfect everything, take antibiotics and all kinds of stuff. Why can't they take a more liberal attitude like my native Japan does? Sometimes being a fatalist has its advantages.

Actually I'm surprised they let me out of the country at all, but I showed clear on all the tests so they couldn't stop me. I guess I'm not enjoying it, is because I'm missing my family so much. My dad said a little independence would do me good, before I join his corporation. I want to do archaeology, not sit at some desk and slowly watch the stock markets crash. We compromised, I would study what I want and then would go and work for him. Some compromise!

Yawning loudly, I got up and ran the shower for a few minutes. It always started off with ice cold water so it was best to leave it to slowly heat up above freezing. Like every good citizen it was my first duty to check myself for signs of plague. It was a daily ritual of checking hair color and texture, skin tone and height. Every day bought the same feeling of trepidation and fear. Did I have the plague? Was I going to stay as I'm supposed to be for one more day? Will I be dragged off to a camp, never to be let out again? Being satisfied that everything was as they were supposed to be I stepped in the shower, ready to start the new day.

Curse +733 Days Matthew's story - From the front line.

I adjusted my bra, trying to get used to the feeling of being constrained and bound up. It had been three months since I had woken up, with long dark black hair, deep brown eyes and Mediterranean skin color. I remember being sick in my stomach, as I knew what was coming. Over the next few days I was going to change from a normal 40 year old man, into a woman with God know what traits. I had the plague.

I made a call to CNN, and told them the news. As someone with the plague I wouldn't be allowed to mix with 'normals' in case I infected them. But who in hell had infected me? I guess it didn't matter anymore. My career as a reporter was over and I was going to be sent to a quarantine camp for the good of society. Too late to protest, too late to do anything, martial law was martial law.

It seems so long ago now, that I was collected by the army, put into a hermetically sealed coach and driven to the Nevada desert for internment into Camp Anderson. I remember seeing the miles upon miles of barbed wire, minefields and other such devices to keep people in. Before I caught the plague I thought such camps were a good idea, now being interned in one my views are to the opposite extreme. But more on that in my weekly report later on today.

As I put on my black lace panties I again couldn't help but look at myself. Five four, with dark olive skin, and medium sized breasts. Well so I'm told anyway. My nose is a little large and my face a little too angular to be truly beautiful, but the key thing is I'm now female and hating it.

I slipped on my dark black skirt and rounded it off with a grunge style top. My arm still aches from the tattoo I'd had put on just the day before. I still don't know why I had it done, just that I felt as though I had to. Rather like a smoker has to have a cigarette after a meal. I checked the clock on the makeshift table in the corner of my room. It was nearly time to put the finishing touches to the re-write of my first report.

Curse +732 Days The Directors story - Pride And Prejudice

I had to work hard to suppress my feelings of frustration, as I clicked the remote to bring up the next PowerPoint slide. “Mr President, Senators. As you can see from the trend analysis in Alabama the number of cases have declined for the third month running. This trend is echoed in California, New Jersey and six other states.”

From the corner of my eye I caught the respective senators from those states breathe a sigh of relief. I clicked for the next slide and continued, “My counterparts in Britain, China, South Africa, and Australia all indicate that the plague is slowly burning itself out. The largest drop off is in Iran and Libya.”

“Director?” the president asked.

“Yes Mr President,” here it comes I thought.

“Do we still have any ideas as to the cause and method of infection,” the president asked.

I saw the veiled meaning behind the question. No matter how he phrased it, every month it meant the same. I'm spending billions of dollars trying to combat this thing, I've millions shut away in camps for the protection of the general populace, I declared pretty much martial law for nearly a year and the economy is well and truly fucked. Give me some good news. I shook my head, “Not yet Mr President. Of those infected none show any signs of bacteriological or viral infection. They just wake up in the morning changed in some way. The only common factor seems to be close proximity to other plague sufferers. We WILL find out what is causing this.”

“Mr Director?” Senator Jameson asked.

'Here we go' I thought, the same old battles with the same old people.

I looked at the overweight, slowly going bald man with as much patience as I could muster, “Yes Senator.”

“I don't think I'm alone in this when I say that the decline in cases proves the segregation policy is working. I think we must continue to segregate plague suffers from 'normals' until we know what is causing it, can it be treated and how is it spread.”

“Tell that to the two million people we have imprisoned in sixty or so camps around the country,” I snapped.

“Reservations Mr Director, they are not camps, they are reservations,” The president corrected.

I waved a hand, as though dismissing the point, “Whatever. My point is. We have two million American citizens in trailer parks surrounded by barbed wire and minefields. We have a policy of removing anyone who shows signs of plague to the nearest camp as soon as possible with little attempt to counsel them and the families they leave behind.”

Another senator, interrupted, “When the plague first hit, we tried counseling. The numbers were too great and only a few would volunteer to risk infection and help them out. We voted in this very room, that the best people to help them were the people affected themselves.”

“That's true.” I admitted.

“Who knows what havoc these people will bring if we let them out prematurely, “ Senator Jameson added.

There were nods of ascent around the room. I decided on a different tack. Holding my temper in I stated, “Mr President. You are not in control of this country.”

“Who the hell is?” the president snapped.

“Fear is. We have millions of people afraid to leave their homes because they are afraid of what will happen to them. Families stretched to breaking point because wives don't know if their marriages are going to be over every time they wake up in the morning. Husbands thinking the same thing about themselves, their children and their wives. The only way to get back into control is face the fear and bring those people back in to society where we can relearn tolerance again. At the moment, fear rules the United States of America”

Senator Collins, a middle aged man with filmstar looks and slicked back hair nodded his head in agreement, “That is precisely why the reservations must stay in place, at least until we know the full effects and consequences of the plague. People who contract the plague are usually affected mentally as well as physically.”

“You mean Geas right?” I added, hoping to drive him off course.

Senator Collins, glanced down and read my definition. He was using my own words against me, dammit, “yes. Strong inclinations towards certain traits or activities while still retaining the full personality and memory of the person afflicted.”

“I know what I wrote. Look, most of these Geas are harmless dressing or acting in certain ways. Suddenly becoming a chain smoker when you were a life long non smoker before hand for example.”

“But what if they're not, what if someone becomes a murderer or terrorist? We already catalog them, but what about the others they hide from us. I hear of people who can now read minds, see into the near future, hell one person can even swap bodies with someone! What about all those who become less than human because of the plague? All these 'people' can and may well have a catastrophic effect on society if allowed to roam free. They must be examined, registered and in extreme cases, incarcerated for the good of the hundreds of millions of normal Americans like you and I! “ Senator Jameson interrupted.

“Look, we have the same arguments every month. Just because the majority are in favor of the cam... reservations policy doesn't mean its right. The people in those reservations are still people, no matter what they look like and they deserve to be released. If it wasn't for the plague control legislation and the fear in the remaining people then you'd have rioting in the streets. We sit here in our sealed offices and carefully controlled environments safe and shut off from the squalor that's happening before our very eyes.”

I saw the president's face turn red with anger. I'd pushed too far, “Squalor? We spend sixty million dollars a day on the reservations and I resent your implication that my administration doesn't care a damn for those people. We do. BUT our first duty is to the American people and those people demand that their lives and families are protected.”

I felt my blood start to boil. For the next presentation I'd show how in Reservation Anderson there'd been an outbreak of Cholera and Dysentery, how the people in the reservations were basically thrown in and left to fend for themselves and contact with families was restricted to only those who paid the 'establishment' enough. Actually I'd mention it now. It couldn't hurt. I took a deep sigh “Mr President. We have all discussed this again and again, but those people in the reservations are starting to suffer needlessly. We have reported outbreaks of Cholera and Dysentery, corruption and people being denied their basic human rights. I realize that you have appointed separate state organizations, which report to me personally but I need the mandate to run these reservation how I think they should be run, with the respect those people deserve.”

“You already have people who do that for you,” Senator Jameson interjected.

I nodded, “Yes but I want and require to take personal charge of the situation. No more red tape, those people need my direct assistance.”

The president's face showed that he was mulling it over, after a minute or so he replied, “Agreed. I'll issue an executive order giving you direct control of all the reservations. As to the other matter, I suggest we postpone until we know more. Agreed?”

There was brief show of hands. Motion carried. I hadn't got everything I wanted but it was a good start, in fact it was a damn good start.

Curse +734 Days Christopher's story - Where It's At

I woke up with the biggest hangover of my life, which was odd since I hadn't even been drinking the night before. I felt as though a mad axeman had been smashing his axe into my skull while I was drinking my 20th large tequila. I struggled to open my eyes, but managed it by a great act of will. Why in hell did I feel so tired?

I waited a few moments before getting up and staggered to the bathroom. My whole body felt as though it had been dropped off a very large building and I hadn't felt this bad since I'd got the flu a year or so back. A feeling of utter dread ran down my spine, and I felt sick. I rushed to the mirror and screamed in horror. Mixed in with my normal short mousy brown hair was a long lock of blonde. It wasn't a lot, just a section about half an inch wide.

I reached up and felt it, hoping to God that it wasn't real, but its texture was way different to my usual hair. It was real and that meant only one thing. I had the plague.

Curse +729 Days Matthew's story - Freedom of the Press

“I'm sorry Matthew, we can't let you broadcast that yet,”

“WHAT!” I heard my feminine voice squeak in outrage,

“It's political dynamite. The government is doing its best to cater for you all, and it can't be seen not to do its job. I know this is your first report and that CNN have asked you cover what conditions are like in the reservations, but this goes too far.” the face on the other side of the videoconferencing screen tried to look sympathetic.

“But Governor. People are really starting to suffer. Awareness of their plight needs to be raised so we can get the resources we need. We're human beings, who've caught a disease not criminals, terrorists or prisoners of war,”

“My orders come straight from the Director himself. He's seen the tapes and agrees with me. He's trying his damndest to get you all out of the reservations and back into society. Do you want to put all that at risk just for the sake of a story?” I read between the lines and saw the real issue, ' I'm too weak to do anything about this myself so I passed it upwards'

I flicked back my hair and crossed my legs, even after all these months it still felt odd not to have anything in between my crotch. I thought for a moment, “But this helps his case. You know conditions are deteriorating as the numbers of people rise. Most folks here accept why they are here, but the numbers who want out, at any cost are rising daily.”

“Matthew, take it from me the last thing the Director needs is an expose on how bad things are getting.”

I was getting annoyed, “You don't know. You oversee this camp but you're not allowed in to look for yourself.”

The governor shrugged his shoulders. “I would if I could, you know that!”

“Yeah you've your family to think of. Well haven't we all! I talked to a new internee called Robin this morning. He woke up on his wedding day and found that he'd become a 6ft blonde amazon, then there's Carl. He left a wife with 2 week old twins to come here, so that his wife wouldn't get what he has. The same story is repeated a million fold all across the world. The people who are left NEED to know what's going on. We're not just a black hole the government can just throw people in!”

The Governor gave me a look that said it all, he agreed with me. BUT policy was dictated from above. How could I win him over? “Ok say you did let it all out. What do you expect to happen?”

'That's more like it' I thought, “The people who haven't got the plague will see that we are still people, that they have nothing to fear from us. Once conditions are known they'll petition to get us out. Just like the Vietnam war, media exposure stirred up public opinion and it was that, that stopped the war.”

“For a reporter you are remarkably naive. Here's what will happen. People will see what's going on and if they do get the plague they'll go into hiding rather than come to us. They'll hope they can lay low till they've transitioned and then rejoin society. 'Runners' do this anyway but thankfully the checks and penalties we've put in place have cut this figure right down. People would rather come to us and get help than go it alone. Now what if they knew conditions were on the decline. They would trust to luck more than come here. As a result the plague spreads more and we lose valuable data on how to treat it. We cannot afford to have people run and hide. Who knows, maybe the next person in will be the key that unlocks it for us.”

The Governor had a point. There must be some middle ground. “People need to know the truth,” I muttered.

“And they will. Thanks to the government sanctioned media blackout being lifted you've got an exclusive inside track. I know you wanted your first broadcast to be something special, but trust me. Tone it down and make it seem less like a refugee camp and more like a mass treatment centre.”

I nodded. A few reports had gotten out over the past year or so, but on the whole they were of the one shot headline or small series affairs. “I guess I could take that angle,” I admitted.

The Governor nodded in agreement, “I look forward to seeing what you produce.”

Curse +733 Days 09:15 Pat's story - Ever Decreasing Spirals

I walked into work again today, guitar strapped to my back and raincoat on. More people were out on the streets today. Whether it was because they had run out of food and needed to restock before retreating back inside or because of the announcement that the plague was at long last getting under control. In a crisis people take whatever good news they can. I felt no good news today. My 'let's try again' letter I'd written to my ex wife a few days back had just been returned. Not known at this address, or so the faded, scrawled writing on the back of the envelope had said. If I had the money I'd pay someone to track her down, I really miss her.

Joey's coffee house was a little busier than yesterday too. Obviously the rain hadn't dampened people's desire for fresh air and coffee. I guess people need to get out sometimes. By nature man is a social creature.

“Hey Pat,” Joey called out to me from across the bar.

I waited until I was a little closer, “Hey Joey. Things looking better?” I replied.

“Yeah, best day for weeks. I reckon its because they've got the plague licked,” Joey smiled. The defeated look of the past few days had gone, at least for the moment.

“I'm dying for a cappuccino, would you mind getting me one while I set up?” I asked.

Joey nodded and smiled; “I'll take it outta of your fee.”

I smiled back, “You always do.”

It took me a few moments to set things up. I used this time to decide what my opening number would be. Usually it was from an event that I'd seen or heard that morning. I gave a smile; I had just the one.

“There's a line on her jeans that a ball-point made
From a careless mistake that she can't wash away
And there's a heart on her sleeve from a spill of red wine
There's a piece of green in the blue of her eyes
She named it after me  

There's a stray dog she feeds that she found in the street
And he loves her to hold him, but he won't let her keep him
And he claws at the door to be let out at night
And she makes do without him, and she worries about him
She named him after me  

So if you ever decide that you have to escape
And travel the world, and you can't find a place
Well, you could wind up believing
That paradise is nothing more than a feeling
That goes on in your mind
So if ever find out what that is
There's something you could do  

'Cause if I ever hold that golden dream again
I want to tell you
I'm gonna name it after you”

Curse +734 Days 07:34 Christopher's story - Civil responsibility

I backed away from the mirror on horror, my face in the mirror still showing shock and disbelief. The long strands of blonde hair coming from my head were proof enough that I had caught the plague. It didn't matter who I caught it from, only that I had it.

I managed to stagger back to my bed and flopped down on it. So that was it, I was going to become a woman, or even a 'non human'. What in hell was I going to do now? I had to leave for work soon, I was supposed to be doing a major system install today. They need me dammit!

I knew what I was supposed to do. Call the plague hotline right away, but if this install didn't go ahead then the company would be screwed. We'd lose our largest contract and hundreds of us would get laid off. I'd even been given a curfew pass in case it all turned to shit. Chances are I caught it from someone at work anyway, and one more day wouldn't hurt.

I walked to a store cupboard and picked up a pair of small scissors, and walked back to the bathroom. I tried to put thoughts of the changes I was going to go thru out of my mind, but it was hard. Maybe I should call the hotline and be done with it. I can't be expected to do my job properly if I'm thinking about tits and pussy's all the time can I?

I looked at my face in the mirror again. How long would it be before it started to turn into my new one? I knew I was going to be blonde, but what else would come along with it? I feel so scared, my whole life as turned upside down and there's nothing I can do about it.

Fuck it! I'm going to work. I leaned forward and cut off the blonde locks from the roots and combed over the gap as best I could. I'd get the server install done today and call in tomorrow.

Curse +734 Days 17:55 Matthew's story - Butterflies in the Stomach

I'd done hundreds of reports before this one. From the war torn streets of Kuwait and Kosovo to the assassination of Queen Elizabeth the second, but none of them made me as nervous as this one did. Whether it was because of the trouble I'd had with getting the report 'approved' or because I was intended to drift away from the agreed script. I didn't want to blow my chance of reporting this, but the official line didn't show what I, we the people in these camps need it to show. I'd done this sort of thing before; it’s what gave me my journalistic buzz. I smiled to myself as I remembered the time in a hotel in Baghdad when the secret police burst in, just as I was in the middle of a report. I managed to convince them I was trying to fix the sat phone but they sat on my case all the way thru the report. I still managed to get the message across in spite of their threats. This would be no exception.

They'd given me a pastel yellow suit to wear, but I hated it. It didn't feel me at all. I guess its my damn Geas getting in the way again. Instead I insisted on wearing dark eyeshadow and my ripped black jeans and deep purple blouse. They tried to protest but I said I either broadcast like this or not at all. My 'producer' Alex put his shaven head around the corner of my door “You've got 5 minutes Matt”

“Sure, thanks,” I replied. I just hoped I could pull this off.

Curse +734 Days 17:40 Christopher's story - Civil responsibility

I had the most horrible day at work. The only silver lining was that the servers installed first time. I guess God was shining on me then. I felt awful. My earlier acceptance of my condition had evaporated almost soon as I walked out of the door this morning. I have the plague. There's no cure and no respite. My body of the last 26 years is going to be taken from me and replaced with God knows what. Why me? Why me God? I've always served you as best I can, so why punish me like this?

Thankfully I'd grown no more blonde hair during the day, but the changes would come at night. I'm told they always come at night. Should I stay up and watch it happen or will staying awake somehow delay the inevitable. I wish I had someone to talk to about the way I feel, but as soon as I make that call or visit a plague related website then its logged. Fucking government have got it all sewn up.

I flopped down on the sofa and switched on the TV. I need to think about this, not that I hadn't spent most of the day thinking about my plight. What would it feel like? Would I feel any different? What was I going to become? All these questions and no answers.

My feelings of being violated welled up inside me again and I felt tears form in my eyes. I needed a distraction, so I started to listen to the TV.

“Coming up on CNN after these messages a special and exclusive report from our correspondent in reservation Anderson.”

That got my attention. If I called in, that's where I'd be sent. The news had been full of how these places were like a sanctuary for those with the plague, where people could go and get the counseling they needed. I certainly needed that at the moment. Of course there's been reports of poor conditions in these reservations, but I can't see how that could have been avoided. With the number and frequency of cases it was inevitable there would be some teething problems.

Curse +734 Days 18:15 Matthew's story - We're all human

So far the report was going well. My format was simple, walk around the camp and interview people. Then describe how it worked inside and why things were done the way they were. Of course not every person was going to be happy and this was one of the loopholes I was going to exploit, that and the odd scene filmed as though by accident. My stand in camera woman was doing a fine job, she'd been a cameraman for a movie studio for ten years before getting the plague.

I'd reached the point of my next comment to camera. Behind me was a large pre-fab building, its speckled concrete walls gleaming in the sun. “Behind me is the main medical wing of the reservation. It's here that people are treated for what ever diseases they catch. It also has a limited research lab, in which we help the global effort to halt this disease. It's not as advanced as a major hospital, but under the circumstances it does a fine job. In a few moment's I'm going to be joined by Doctor Alex Mee, chief surgeon of 'Anderson general hospital'.”

I let the camera pan past my head so that a better picture of the building could be seen. “Like most permanent structures here the hospital was constructed before the reservation was set up. The other places you will see have been built almost entirely by the reservation population.”

I heard footsteps behind me, a signal from my cameraman told me that Dr Mee had arrived. I turned to the petite, plain looking brunette and said, “This is Doctor Mee of the Anderson General Hospital. Doctor before we go into specifics tell us about yourself.”

The Doctor looked nervously at the camera. He casually flicked his hair away from his face and started to speak, “My name is Doctor Richard Mee. I was a senior surgeon at the New York Memorial Hospital. I was in the first wave of plague victims and so have been here since the start of the confinement policy.”

“Doctor, can you tell us about your typical day,” A cliché question I knew. But this interview was key to what I wanted to do.

“At the moment we think there's a fault in some of the water purification equipment. It's led to a number of cases of mild stomach upset and so we're running low on anti-biotics with which to treat them.”

Good answer I thought. You don't treat mild stomach upsets with anti biotics, “All your staff are plague victims too, is that right?”

The doctor nodded, “yeah. We're fortunate here that we have enough trained medical staff to cope with the needs of forty thousand people. It's not easy, but we're just clinging on.”

“Do you get involved with counseling of plague victims?”

“No, that falls to my counterpart, Doctor Reeder. I understand you'll be talking to him on the psychological effects of the plague later on.”

I nodded, “Tell us what facilities you have available,” another question designed to at least flag up some of the truth going on here.

“To be honest, they are very limited. We can treat most minor injuries here, but anything more major is untreatable. Normally we could fly out people to other facilities but the strict quarantine means that more severe illnesses and injuries cannot be treated. We can remove an appendix and perform limited blood transfusions and that's about it.”

I nodded sympathetically, “So its more like a field hospital rather than a fully equipped medical centre?”

Dr Mee shrugged his slender shoulders, “I guess so.”

“Ok Doctor, If you had to ask for one thing what would it be,” I inwardly smiled.

“Apart from getting us all out of here and back to our families? I guess it would be for more money for better facilities.”

“Thank you Doctor,” I dismissed him and then walked on towards my interview with Doctor Reeder. The red blinking light of the camera told me I was still on air. I pointed to the mixture of accommodation afforded us here. “As you can see the standard of living space varies substantially. People who have been here from the start of the epidemic were given trailers and RV's to live in. As the numbers grew so the housing declined in quality. Now people are given the old metal shipping containers from cargo vessels to live in. These are covered in insulating foam, which then sets to form the organic melted look you can see around you.”

I pointed to a long row of square blocks. They looked like kids building blocks covered in a melted wax substance. “The foam is the key. It stops the interior getting too hot during the day and too cold during the freezing desert nights we have here. Let's just go and chat with someone.”

I chose the nearest container to where I was standing. I just wanted to interview someone, to get their view of conditions here. I walked up to the metal door and gave a loud bang on it, “Hello. This is CNN, mind if we have a chat?” I called out.

There was no reply. I instinctively pushed the door and much to my surprise it swung open. The heat hit me as the door opened. Usually we kept all the vents and doors open to at least let some air thru, but this place was like an oven. I had to stifle down a gag reflex as I saw a decaying body swinging from the ceiling. It was then that the smell hit me. It was the same stench of death that greeted me as I walked among the dead Iraqi soldiers on the road to Basra, from the killing fields of Kosovo and Sudan. It was the sweet, almost sickly smell of death. I heard my cameraman's voice say “Want me to stop?”

You kidding? “No leave it on,” I walked into the single roomed shelter. I had wanted to show people the developing nightmare here, to show them worsening conditions, but not like this. I turned to face the camera, “Ladies and gentlemen. I'm going to cut this report short in a moment. Suicide is a fact of life here; some people cannot handle what the plague has done to them. The responsible thing to do is to notify the reservation authorities and pass on the news to this person's family. I'm sorry you had to see this and it was not my intention to show you this, just how life is here. I guess I did it a little too well. This is Matthew Robinson of CNN, from Reservation Anderson.”

Curse +734 Days 18:25 Christopher's story - The Die is cast

I sat hooked to the TV, as this reporter gave us a live tour of the camp. The first part was quite interesting. This Hispanic woman was the reporter and called herself Matthew. Apparently he/she was a reporter from CNN who had been allowed to film inside the reservations for the first time. The camera kept panning away from certain things, as though they were trying not to show you the rubbish heaped up at the back of the, 'houses' or the obvious signs of decay. The presenter had been interviewing a few people there, asking them what they thought, any messages to home and that kinda stuff. It really bought it home to me what I was now facing. It was more than the physical changes; it was the psychological effects and the affect it would have on my family and friends.

The reporter had moved onto interviewing some doctor at the makeshift looking hospital. Although the doctor was saying all the right things you could see from his/her face that they weren't getting the supplies they needed. Anyway since when did you need anti-biotics for just an upset stomach? Grave doubts formed in my mind. I was going to turn myself in tomorrow, but what I saw from this report didn't make me feel any easier, and the fact that they were trying to cover it up only reinforced the point. I turned my attention back to the TV.

The reporter was now knocking on the door of one of those shipping containers. They pushed the door open after no reply and I recoiled at the sight of a corpse hanging from the ceiling. The body looked as though it had been dead for a number of days. The flesh had started to bulge at the ankles as the blood and fluid had seeped downwards. The body swung around and I saw that whoever it had been had used the flex from a small lamp with which to hang themselves. The person's face showed that they had died in pain. Oh my god what is this hell hole people are sent to!

The reporter quickly made his/her excuses and shut the broadcast down. Right away CNN went to a commercial break, I guess they didn't know how to handle what they had just seen.

Right, that did it. No way was I going to turn myself in. I'd end up in one of those camps, living in a metal box in the middle of nowhere with only minimal medical and psychological support. I'd take my chances out here. As long as the changes weren't too bad no one would know. I could just leave without a trace and move somewhere else.

Doubts formed in my mind. Who was I trying to kid? Me, a runner?

They'd catch me within a day and then what, I'd be thrown in jail and who knows what they would do to me in there! I'd never cope. Oh God why me! But on the other hand I couldn't face up to one of those camps, especially since I'd seen what they were like on TV. I felt the weight of oppression on me. Tomorrow I'd wake up changed once more, a step closer to almost certain womanhood. At the moment I was so confused as to how I felt about that. Part of me wanted to accept my fate and move on, but that part was swamped by the irrepressible voice in me that wanted to scream. Come on think, man! If I stayed indoors for the next few days no-one could tell if I had ever had the plague or not. I'd then pack what I could and leave first thing in the morning I'd fully changed. I'd go somewhere where's there's not many people, the mountains, anywhere. Once the plague thing had calmed down in a few months I could then come back.

Fuck, anyone talking more than two urgent days vacation or sick leave was immediately investigated. That plan wouldn't work. If I failed to report to work tomorrow, with no notice and not from my home phone my company would have to report me AWOL. Fuck, fuck, Fuck! That does it. I'd have to leave tonight. Shit, Curfew was in an hour. Wait a second. I still had my night pass from the install today. My boss had written it out for me in case I needed to come in to fix the new systems overnight. I could use that to beat the curfew.

The only trouble was, was that I couldn't be seen to be taking much luggage with me. If I was stopped and had my car weighed down with stuff then they'd check my story out. A wry thought struck me. In a few days time it’s likely none of my stuff would fit anyway. I also couldn't make a mass cash withdrawal as that too would be suspicious. For a few days I couldn't take any cash out, or use my credit cards, ever. If I were on the run I'd have to start from scratch. Live off my resources and evade capture. Part of me got excited about the thought. I switched the TV off. I had some emergency packing and planning to do.

Curse +736 Days Maki's story - Letters from home

I had just walked into my room, after a hard days study when I realized I'd not picked up my mail for a few days. Not that anyone ever wrote to me, I just liked the idea of getting mail. My feelings of homesickness hadn't abated stupid dumb country. I slotted the key into the keyhole and opened up the mailbox.

To my amazement there was a letter inside, and it was written in my mothers handwriting. Shutting the mailbox and ensuring the catch went click I raced upstairs.

I need to get in shape! I flopped down on the bed and tore open the envelope.

“My dearest daughter

I am saddened to tell you that both your father and I have the plague.”

I put the letter down, NO! It couldn't happen to them! They were so careful. I read on, trying to blink back the tears.

“We contracted it a week ago, from where we do not know. We're trying to make the best of things, but your father is not taking it well. I have enclosed new photographs so that you know what we now look like.”

I tipped the envelope out and two drivers license sized photo's dropped out. Both of them showed two women, about 30 years old, brown eyes and long dark hair. Of course they still look oriental and looking closer they looked like sisters. My mom even started to resemble me! I flipped one photo over, of the plainer looking one and on the back was written my fathers name, Hiro. I put the photo's down in front of me and picked up the letter once more.

“If it wasn't bad enough, our personalities have changed. Although we are both ourselves inside we both do and say things that we never would have done. It's making living together very difficult. Hiro can't help wanting plastic surgery to increase his bosom size, even though he hates having breasts. As for me, I feel the urge to go out on the streets and act like a common hooker. I've resisted so far, but its horrible and only a matter of time before our urges overwhelm us.”

I thought of the nightmare my parents were going thru, not just a change of gender, but the mental torture that is tearing them apart. They have been together for the best part of thirty years. I thought of my dad struggling with being changed against his will, the shame he would feel for succumbing and the sense of failing his family when it needed him the most. My mother too, trying to resist her new personality with every fibre of her being. I'd heard about these Gea's and thought them only a minor part of the plague; now I saw them for what they were, the most horrible part of all.

At least in Japan they could start to leave a normal life. The news is still full of the fallout from the CNN report a few days back. I guess that's the only bright spot in this.

I thought back to how my parents must be feeling at the moment. A marriage wrecked, all the time together and how did I feel? I wasn't sure, I was still in shock. That was the last straw. I put the letter down and cried into my pillow.

Curse +734 Days 18:32 The Directors story - Lucy

I flicked off the TV with a smile of triumph. That was just perfect -- way better than I'd hoped. I gambled on the CNN guy taking a flyer and pushing back against authority and won. Of course I'd had to pull a few strings to get the broadcast shown live, with no time delay or pre recording but my persistence had eventually won the president over.

I heard the clink of glasses on a tray and turned my head. My assistant, Lucy, had just walked in with a bottle of champagne and two glasses. “I thought you might like to toast our success,” Lucy's smooth and silky voice asked.

I smiled at gave an appreciative glance at Lucy, she was stunningly beautiful. Tall at six foot, with a stunning figure and her long raven black hair was tied back into a professional looking ponytail. A Red nail polished hand passed me a glass of champagne. “Thanks,” I said and took it.

Lucy sat down on the chair to my right and crossed her long legs. With a deft flick of the hand she had adjusted her long red skirt so that it covered over her legs, “As I said Director, well done.”

I smiled as best as I could; Lucy always made me feel on edge. “It was a good plan. Now all we do is see what happens next.”

Lucy raised an eyebrow, “It's ok I know what will happen next. The media will scream for the abolition of the camps and more people with the plague will run.”

I nodded my agreement; we had talked about this before, “Yeah. What I don't see is how what achieves what we're trying to do.”

Lucy gave me a stunning smile a satisfied look on her face, “In time director, all in good time. Now drink up, your champagne's getting cold.”

“I'm concerned about the reporter, should we gag him. Revoke his camp privileges?” This had been bothering me since the plan was first put into motion.

Lucy took a sip of her champagne. “No, warn him personally of the consequences but take no more action. We'll need him for the later phases. Besides, it will look as though we are trying to punish him for speaking the truth.”

I shrugged my shoulders. Why in hell was I in this mess, the feeling of being swamped by events came over me. It was a feeling that was getting worse as things progressed. It all seemed so easy when things first started out. How in hell did they get so complex?

Lucy saw my concern and put a comforting hand on my knee and looked at me with her dark almost black eyes, “Don't worry director. I know what I'm doing.”

I felt better right away, “Thanks Lucy. Listen, I need to go. Margaret and the boys are expecting me for an early dinner tonight. I can't work late all the time.”

Lucy stood up and straightened herself out, “Of course director. I'd hate to come between you and your family.”

“Ok Lucy, I'll expect you'll be busy tonight.”

Lucy gave me a cold stare, “Very,” she said abruptly. With that last comment she turned and left the room.

I breathed out, the shit was really going to hit the fan now, and like it or not I was now in the front line.

-- oo -- oo --

“It was the CNN report 734 days after the curse came that was the turning point. The effects of that report were not immediately seen or felt at the time, but we look back on that report and say 'This is where it all began, the fight for the human race started here'“

Excerpt from “The Origins of the Curse' By Prof Richard nee Jane Andrews, Chair Magic Studies, MIT. ISBN 353245543

-- oo -- oo --

Curse +735 Days Matthew's Story - Fall out

I had got up early today to ensure I was one of the first in line to use the camp's internet links. I'd saved up two weeks worth of net ration to research the fall out from my first report. Computer time was limited to each camp member, as both power and network space had a finite limit. Most people used the 10 minutes a week they were allocated to send and read mails from loved ones. We still got newspapers but they were always two or three days out of date.

I'd once likened where we were to some flea pit of a third world country where the basics for life were just about there and everything else was out of reach for 95% of the population. The only difference was that this third world country was inside of the richest nation on the planet!

I managed to logon and pull down a few personal emails. I'd have to wait till the end to see if I had any time left in which to read them. I quickly clicked on the USA today page, the CNN home page and the LA times. I gave a wry smile of pleasure. I was headline news.

The camp governor had issued a statement that what I had found was a rare and tragic event and that life in the reservations was as normal as could be. The director of the reservation project was unavailable for comment but his assistant (a very stunning brunette) did issue the following statement on his behalf

'I'm sure we are not alone in expressing our deep regret the death that occurred today in camp Anderson. However this one tragedy should not deter us from our goal which is to bring the plague under control and so allow the return of our loved ones to us. The longer we delay the worse conditions will get and the less meaning this sacrifice will have. It cannot be stressed how important it still is to report any occurrence of the plague. You will be well looked after and the way the number of cases is in decline the quarantine period is bound to be short. In order to ensure this we still need to have every case reported and the executive order issued by the president still stands. Thank you for your time.'

As I suspected the report has increased pressure on the government to get us all out of here, which was exactly what I intended. Just as I was about to check out the international reaction I was aware of someone standing behind me.

“Are you Matthew, the CNN reporter?” A husky female voice asked.

I looked up and involuntarily stared at the centaur standing before me. She stood about eight feet tall and towered above me. I'd seen centaurs before, but at a distance. The non humans tended not to mix with us, preferring their own kind.

“Umm yeah, who wants to know?” I asked, still trying not to stare at the half horse, half woman creature in front of me.

“The prophet wants to see you,” The centaur said in a matter of fact way.

As if I would know who it was talking about, “The who?”

“Come!” The centaur demanded.

“I've still got work to do, maybe later.” I'd saved my online time for 2 weeks for this.

“Not anymore.” The woman gave a wide, wry smile and nodded towards the screen.

“Fuck it,” My last remaining seconds had been used up in conversation and the system had logged me out.

My journalists curiosity overrode my anger, why would a centaur venture from outside the non human section? They almost never did. “Ok, I'll come.”

The centaur led me out of the concrete building and into bright sunlight. The sun had come up in the few minutes I'd been inside and already I could feel it was going to be a hot day.

I was led thru countless container houses, every one the same shape and form. The sight of a centaur walking alongside a human caused the few people that were up and about to stare at us. As I said, it was an almost unprecedented event.

Reservation Anderson was large, about five miles at its widest point and it seemed as though we walked the whole way. The centaur never spoke a single word to me, in spite of me asking several innocent and friendly questions.

We stopped outside of a rusty brown colored container house. The door was a single sack and I couldn't see into the gloomy interior. The Centaur beckoned for me to go inside.

I pushed the sack aside, and waited a moment until my eyes got used to the darkness. Why were there no windows?

“You must be Matthew,” A woman' voice like that of running water called out.

“And you are?” I asked.

“I am the prophet”, the voice said simply.

“Ah,” I saw the vague outline of a woman, her head was covered in brown sackcloth and she was dressed in what seemed like rags. I guess she thought herself some kinda hermit.

“Please take a seat,” she beckoned to a small wooden block on the floor.

“Ok,” I said and sat down; ignoring the still foreign feelings from in between my legs as I instinctively crossed them.

“We need to talk,” the prophet stated.

“Who are you, what do you want? How come a centaur came?” I asked. Poor questions I know, but something about her made me uneasy. Like talking to one's teacher after a bad grade or your boss when asking for a rise.

“The labels we are given at birth have little importance, they are just tags on flesh. What I want is to talk to you, and as for the centaur, I asked her to go get you.”

“I see,” Fuck I hate all this mystical mystery crap. Just give me a straight answer!

“No you don't see at all. I saw your broadcast last night. You have started something,” the prophet lifted her head towards me, but I still couldn't see a face.

I smiled, “Yeah I know. Pressure on the government is growing to let us all out.”

“Do you know how the plague began?” The prophet asked.

“No one does, one day everyone's normal. The next WHAM millions are changing.”

“Do you believe we can beat the plague?” The prophet asked once more, her voice was calm and emotionless.

“We already are. The number of cases is declining across the world. Soon we'll have a vaccine”

“You are foolish, you are no use to us!” The prophet declared.

“Hey wait a minute!” I protested.

“You have looked but not seen, heard and not listened, thought and not believed.”

I was ready to walk out. This woman was clearly mad. I'd walked all this way for nothing. But she had commanded a centaur! Nobody did that, as far as I knew. “What haven't I seen, What haven't I not heard and what don't I believe in?”

“I will give you one last chance,” she offered.

That's nice of you, I thought. Why was I still sitting here?

“You have looked at yourself, the new you, many times, but never seen the real you inside. You have heard what others have said, but never listened to the voices inside and you have thought about your life and never believed that it mattered.”

She had a point; “You can say that about everyone.”

The prophet nodded, “That is why the plague will never be cured.”

I'd heard a similar train of thought before. That the plague was a judgment from God, Shiva whoever on a sinful mankind. “I've heard the argument before. That mankind is inherently evil and that because of its evil the plague is a judgment on all of us.”

“And yet you dismissed it,” the prophet commented.

“Sure, no rational person would believe such a thing. Even the churches dismiss the idea. I remember back in the 80's AIDS was said to be the same thing.”

“We live in irrational times.”

I had to agree with that comment. “So why did you really call me here? It wasn't to discuss theology.”

“I don't have all the answers. I just know what is in my heart and in my spirit. A great darkness has risen and it threatens all of us. Even you being dead to the world must sense it. Already it has gathered its servants and has its own plans within plans within plans.”

Again the old judgment argument, but some of what she just said did make me uneasy, “Yes I know something's going on, but it’s not in the spirit world or wherever; it’s in the government. That's why I did what I did. To expose them!”

“You only go so far, and not all the way.”

“The full way being that the plague is the result of some divine judgment, a curse on mankind?” I said, trying to hide the sarcasm.

The prophet shook her head, “No. I do not yet know the true nature and origin but this plague is not a judgment. “

“Then what is it?” I asked. I was getting into this conversation. It'd make a good talking point for my next news report.

“I do not know, only that it is a darkness. It is timeless and before time itself. What do you know of the black death?”

“The Bubonic plague? It decimated Europe twice, once in the Middle Ages and once in the 17th century. It wiped out nearly three-quarters of the European population. It was spread by fleas on rats.”

The prophet nodded her agreement, “That is only half the story. At the time the people thought it was their sin and wrong doing that had bought the plague upon them. Some even thought that the devil sent it upon them. They saw cats as the devil’s servants and so killed cats in their millions, thus helping the plague spread by killing one of the few things able to control the rat population.”

“Yes I heard that,” where was she leading to?

“History says it was bought in from Asia and spread from the rats from the ships. What if that’s only half the story”

“Which is?” I asked.

“What if the superstitions were partly correct. What if something or someone created or spread the black death to show us, in reality how evil we really are and how our evil pollutes the world.”

“That's just old fashioned superstition,” whoever the prophet was she was clearly mad.

The prophet paused as though trying a different approach, “Ever hear of a place called Eyam?”

I shrugged my shoulders, “Nope.”

“It's a small village in England. In a place called Derbyshire.”

“And?”

“It's what's called a plague village. Back in the 1600's the second Black Death was devastating England. It was bought to the village of Eyam by some infected cloth from London. The local pastor, a Thomas Stanley persuaded the villagers to stay rather than flee to the surrounding villages. During the year or so of total isolation, food was left for the villagers at a well, on the village boundary high up on the hill above the village, and paid for by coins, which were dipped in vinegar to disinfect them. The grim task of burying the dead fell to the remaining families of the dead and the victims were often buried hurriedly in graves, which were scattered around the village. Usually there was no funeral service, for gatherings of people were discouraged for fear of spreading the infection.”

“So what happened?” I asked. I was fascinated by the story

The prophet paused for a moment and then said solemnly, “Out of a total population of maybe 300 there were less than 50 left alive, when the plague died out in October 1666. BUT the surrounding villages were saved, because of the village of Eyam's sacrifice. Even now their sacrifice is remembered throughout Derbyshire.”

“Interesting. I don’t see how this relates to today.”

“Ever thought that these camps are the modern day Eyam? Thru our pain and sacrifice others will be saved. We, you must persuade people to stay and not run to 'the surrounding villages'

“I can’t do that. People are suffering and starting to die. We have families, friends, loved ones who all miss us. This place is inhuman!” I snapped.

“Yes it is! But not because of the conditions here,” The prophet stated.

“Then why?”

“Because we have forgotten what it is to be really human. The Plague has got the world focused on exterior flesh and not what's inside us,”

I felt annoyed at that comment, “That's easy to say. I hate being a woman now. I've lost family, friends and my sense of identity. My Geas force me to do things I hate and there's nothing I can do about it. With all due respect that's crap. Of course people are focused on what they've become and rightly so. There's nothing shallow about us. I know I don't look like a bimbo but calling me one is insulting!”

The Prophet's head went up to face me. Still I could see nothing thru the sack cloth she was wearing, “You do not understand”

“You're not making it easy for me to understand,” I started to say.

“Good.” The prophet's voice sounded almost pleased.

I had other things to do, “I want to film you for my next report. Can I come back in a week or so?” The Eyam story if nothing else was worth another interview.

“No. Those that are walking in darkness will recognize what I say and will strike before we are ready. Tell your story; tell them about Eyam and how our sacrifices must not be forgotten. Do not try and push for our early release. We are not yet ready for it. Come back before your next report and I will teach you some more.”

You've not taught me much, except an anecdotal history lesson. I thought. But she was a fascinating and charismatic in a strange sort of way. I wonder what the non humans saw in her? Maybe they were so desperate for someone to make them feel human again they clung onto anything or anyone that offered them help. “Ok just let me know when you want to see me,”

The prophet nodded her agreement and I rose to leave her house.

“One last thing,” she said.

“Yeah?”

“Remember Eyam. Sometimes it’s better for the few to suffer for the many.”

“I will,” I replied and walked out into bright sunlight.

The centaur was nowhere to be found so I found myself walking back alone. I wasn't really sure what this prophet was trying to tell me. It seemed to be a load of hints; hearsay interspersed with a little history. From what I could work out she thought that the plague was a curse on mankind and that, because of the way we are it will never be lifted. Further more she was convinced that some dark force was at work and that it had allies. She was also convinced that we should stay in the camps until the plague had died out. Her final warning was that if these dark forces became aware of what she knew, then they would strike at her before she could fight them off.

I must admit there were parts of it I thought were relevant, like the Eyam thing and the rest was just medieval hokum. As I made my way back thru squalid housing with limited running water and little sewerage disposal facilities. I wondered what everyone else in the camp would think to being told that they had to stay where they were. If I remembered the story rightly the people of Eyam chose to stay. They had a choice. We have no choice at all. We stay here because if we tried to escape we would be imprisoned again or even killed.

Lost in thought I soon arrived back at my 'house' On the table was a note that I was to go and make a video conference call to the reservation director as soon as I was able. I had stirred something up, or as the prophet called it 'I have started something'. I gave a smile, this was turning out to be quite a day.

Curse +735 Days The Directors story - Under Pressure

“Call for you, Director,” Lucy's siren like voice said down the phone.

“Who is it?” I was very busy. The repercussions from that CNN report were still reverberating around Washington.

“The CNN reporter, you asked to call you. I think I should be there with you when you take the call,” Lucy asked.

“OK put him through. I think I can handle this thank you Lucy,” I stated.

“You'll need someone to take minutes,” Lucy countered. Why was she so desperate to be on the call? Still I was her boss, she would have to sit this one out.

“It'll be fine. A cup of coffee would be nice though,” I almost smiled. It was good to put Lucy in her place once in a while.

“Yes Director. Just don't forget the terms of our contract” she snapped.

As if I could!

The screen chimed a few times. The CNN reporter was waiting for me to pick up. I counted to ten and then pressed the 'Answer' button. A few moments later the face of an attractive Hispanic looking woman was on screen. “Thank you for calling me,” I said.

“Thanks for asking. Now what can I do for you?” The reporter's voice had a slight Spanish accent.

“I wanted you to know that officially my department takes a dim view of the stunt you pulled yesterday. A sensible reporter would have sent someone in first to check it out. Do you realize the amount of favors I had to pull in to get you to broadcast live and with no time delay? If you pull a stunt like this again, I will have to officially revoke your broadcasting rights Do you understand?”

“Yes Director,” the woman replied.

“As I said you went against my official orders not to show the state of the reservations.” Again I dropped the hint.

The reporters eye lit up as the penny dropped. I could almost think her thinking 'what about unofficially?'

I heard the door open and Lucy walked in, “Your coffee, director.” She replied curtly. She hung around for a few moments, waiting to be invited to stay but my lesson in who's boss wasn't over.

“That'll be all Lucy, Thank you.” I replied and turned my attention back to the screen

“Director, am I being officially reprimanded? If you're asking me to hide the truth and censor my reports, that's unconstitutional!” The reporter's face looked annoyed, but the eyes said otherwise. I'd just given the reporter what she wanted. “No, you're not being reprimanded, just reminded that you have certain moral obligations to those both inside and outside of the reservations.”

The reporter nodded, “Point taken. I'll bear that mind for next weeks report.”

I nodded my approval, “That's all I ask. Thanks for calling.”

“Goodbye,” the reporter said and the link died.

“Nicely done director,” Lucy's voice came from behind me somewhere. So she had crept back in again without me noticing.

“You think he got the hint?” I asked. I knew he had but I wanted to know how much Lucy had seen. I turned to face my stunning brunette assistant.

“Oh yes she got it alright. Officially you disapproved and warned him away. Unofficially he must follow his moral obligations to report the truth. I think the camps will be closed within the next three months if the reporter does her job properly,” Lucy gave me her 'beauty queen' smile.

“And then,” I sighed, “I'll be out of a job.”

“I doubt that. I'm sure something will come up,” Lucy gave me a sly and knowing look that sent a shiver down my spine.

“It always does,” I replied thoughtfully.

Curse +740 Days 10:12 Pat's story - Invitation

Another rainy day in New York! It's odd how the weather seems to match my mood these days. Just scraping by is how I feel at the moment. But then I guess it’s the same as everyone else. Just scraping by. That's what I'll call my autobiography, if anyone would want to read it that is.

I wonder what my wife is up to these days. It's a thought that I think, oh at least a hundred times a day. She told me in no uncertain terms to go and never come back. Still, at least I'm not trapped behind a desk, unable to express how I really feel about things. I guess I'm better off now, or rather I would be if she were with me. It's odd how the lack of 'things' focuses the mind on the more important things in life, love, friends and family. The whole worlds falling apart, day by day.

I was just about to leave when the phone rang, I dashed over and picked it up. It was Joey.

“Hey Pat, Just calling to say don't bother coming in today,” Joey's voice didn't sound depressed or even worried so whatever it was it wasn't bad news.

“What's up?”

“You've just got a better offer. A friend of mine, heard you the other night. He liked you so much he's offered you a spot at his nightclub. You’d better get over to Gate's nightspot as soon as you can. You'll want to practice. I'm told you'll have a full band and everything. Get a pen, here's his number.”

I dashed off to the living room to find a pen and pad. A few seconds later I had scrawled the number down, “Thanks Joey, I owe you one.”

I could tell Joey was smiling by the tone of his voice on the other end of the phone, “Just remember you still work for me, OK?”

“I'd never work for anyone else, “ I said grinning back.

“Cya in a day or so,” Joey replied and hung up.

Elated at this news, I quickly dialed the phone number and within a matter of minutes I had arranged a rehearsal for 2pm that afternoon. Now what to do with the rest of the day?

Curse +735 Days 07:25 Christopher's story - Fugitive

I woke up in my car. I'd driven thru most of the night to escape the city and people. I'd manage to park behind a large copse and with the lights off and away from the road I'd be hard to spot. My head hurt like hell and it was all I could do to open my eyes. My limbs ached from being cooped up inside the car and I could feel my old back injury starting to play up again.

I struggled to sit up, sleeping in a car is not conducive to a good nights rest that's for sure. Bleary eyed I glanced down at my legs and gasped in a mixture of shock and horror. I could see that the shape they made inside my pants had changed and become, slender and more feminine looking. I reached for my flies and was about to take off my pants when I head a rat tat on the window of the car.

Oh Shit! I police officer was knocking on the car window. Trying to pull myself together I managed to wind the window down, “Yes officer?” I asked in the most innocent voice I could muster.

“I see you have the plague,” he stated in a matter of fact manner.

“No, why would you think that? I just felt something crawl up my pants” Lame excuse I know, but it was the first thing that came into my head.

“Don't lie to me son. I'm here to help”

“I'm not ly...,” I started to day.

“Look, we get it all the time. People get the plague and do a runner. This spot is a common stop over for people who think they've gone far enough for the night. Lucky for you I found you and no someone else!”

“How do you mean?” I asked.

The cop reached into his pocket and pulled out his pad of tickets. He lifted a page and pulled out a small piece of card and started to write me a ticket out. I tried to see what he was writing but the angle was all wrong for me to see properly.

“Take it, do exactly what it says and don’t stop,” the cop said, handing me the ticket and the bit of paper.

“What?” I queried.

“Just read it, and follow it. Now excuse me SIR I need to be going,” with that the cop turned and walked off.

I looked at the ticket and found it was just a warning about being illegally parked. But the bit of paper he'd slipped in was a different matter altogether. It gave the address of a house in Atlanta and a single word, “freaks.”

Now I know where I'm heading, I guess. Why a cop would be so cloak and dagger about it I had no idea. Clearly he wasn't going to turn me in, otherwise he would have done so there and then.

My attention focused back to my legs. Gingerly I undid my flies, and saw to my great relief that my dick was still there. However as I pulled them down further. I shuddered as I saw my now smooth, hairless legs. No hiding it now, I had the plague! My only chance now seemed to be on the say-so of a mysterious cop and in Atlanta. Doing my pants back up I started the engine and set off.

Curse +741 Days 17:59 Matthew's Story - Eyam

My cameraman, well camerawoman gave me the 3-2-1 signal and it was time for my second broadcast to CNN. The last one had caused quite a stir, and I was determined that this one would do just the same. But in a different way. Anyway, too late for that now. I was on Air.

“Good evening, My name is Matthew Robinson of CNN. I'm standing in Reservation Anderson and it’s from here I will be giving weekly reports on life here,” So far so good, but my dulcet female voice still sounded a little too nervous for my professional ear.

“Some of you will remember last weeks broadcast and the unfortunate incident regarding the suicide. I'm sorry if that disturbed many of you, but as is these reservations it’s a tragic reality,” I gestured around at the area I was standing in, “I'm in one of the newer areas of the reservation. As the plague's impact grew, and therefore its number of victims the government allocated more resources and space to looking after those affected. As a result newer internees have access to much better conditions than those who were first affected. Slowly but surely the older areas are being bought up to spec, but its a difficult process as for obvious reasons very, very few actually want to come here to work,” There that'll keep the director happy I thought.

I paused for a few moments to let the camera pan around a little. These newer areas were much better, in spite of having the container housing, some inhabited by the rich even had running water. “At a personal level I've become somewhat of a celebrity here since my last report. I met up, or should I say was invited to meet up with one of the most curious people I've seen here,” I had debated whether to mention the prophet in my broadcast, and decided I would. She had said no to me filming her, not talking about her.

“The only way I can describe this lady is that of a hermit. I've no idea what she looks like, only that she wore a sack cloth veil. I knew something odd was going on as she had sent a non-human, a centaur to find me. Even in the reservations the non humans are a rare sight. They keep to themselves and never mix with us. I'd only seen them at a distance until then. Anyway, the centaur leads me to a hut in the middle of the old area. I'm not allowed to show you where, because this prophet refused me permission to film her.”

Hmm this is getting dull I thought, time to add some human interest, “We spoke about this and that. Mostly how she regarded the current plague as the work of some kind of dark force. Now it’s nothing we've not heard loads of times before but she did tell me one story which touched me. It made me think about what we are really doing here.

She told me the story of a place in England, called Eyam. Back in the late 16th century the black death had come to the village via some cloth that had been bought in London. The village pastor, persuaded the villagers to stay put. To isolate the village from the rest of the world so that people fleeing would not spread the plague to all the surrounding villages. Reluctantly they agreed and a procedure was put in place where money would be disinfected with vinegar. The surrounding villages would put food there, and take the money, thus minimizing contact with the infected people.”

I paused, giving it time to sink in, “The tactic of isolation worked. The surrounding villages and towns were saved but Eyam had paid a terrible price. The dead were left for their own families to bury because no one wanted to touch them. Out of a population of 300 men, women and children less than 50 remained alive after the plague had burnt it self out.”

“This”, I gestured to the surrounding camp ,”is our Eyam.”

I decided to cut the broadcast short, to say anything else was pointless, “This is Matthew Robinson of CNN, reporting from Reservation Anderson.”

Curse +741 Days 18:15 The Directors story - Eyam

Lucy marched into my office, her face red with anger, glared at the TV, which was now onto another report, picked up the remote and switched it off, “How dare HE do that to us. He'll ruin everything!” she shouted.

“I thought he did rather well. The Eyam story was a nice touch,”

“Now we'll never get them fucking cunting released!” Lucy swore!

I'd not heard Lucy swear for nearly a year. Usually she was so calm and collected. Her fellow staffers had called her an ice maiden ,so much was she always in control. “It's not that bad, he only did as we asked,” I trying to placate her.

“I thought you wanted those people out,” Lucy gave me one of her icy, assassins stares.

A deadly chill ran down my spine, somehow it felt as though I was seconds away from death. It was that kind of look. “We still have other options,” I said.

Lucy calmed down a little “Yes you're right, we always have other options.”

Seeing Lucy's rage die down a little, I poured more water on her flames, “I don't think this Eyam tale will set us back that much. People will be more sympathetic towards the camps now, but they fear the plague too much. When it comes down the to crunch people are too selfish to do that much about it.”

“You are right, of course,” Lucy checked her watch waited a few seconds and said “Something's bound to crop up, it always does,” Lucy gave me a disturbingly smug look. Something about it made me think that her outburst had all been staged all along.

I was about to reply when the phone rang. Dutifully Lucy picked the call up. She listened for a few seconds, said, “It's the president.”

“Mr Director, I need you here as soon as you can,” the president requested. His voice sounded shaken and upset.

“What is it Mr President,”

“There's been another car bombing, seems as though it’s the same group as before.”

“What! It's been months, I thought the feds had cleared it all up,” I said. Back, when the plague had first hit a number of car bombs had been detonated in protest at the setting up at what the terrorists had called concentration camps. Thanks to the security measures in place, this terrorist cell was soon caught and bought to justice. That had been nearly 18 months ago.

“We had a coded message minutes before five cars, packed with nail bombs blew up blew up near Bloomingdales in New York. Fuck knows how they managed to get it, but our internal security guys knew NOTHING. They killed at least 40 and injured a hundred or so more. The bastards set the bombs to go off a few seconds after each other so that as people ran away from the first the second blew up right in front of them. They fucking well herded the people into clusters with the other car bombs and blew them up with the nearest car bomb to them! The motherfuckers turned a shopping precinct into a killing zone!” the president swore.

“Are you sure it was the same group? How long ago did it happen?” I glanced across at Lucy who was giving me 'what the hell has gone on' look.

“About 5 minutes ago. CNN and the media are going ape. It was the same fucking lot as before; they demanded the release of 'their people' from the camps and said that this time it was just a wake up call.”

“What do you want me to do?” I asked, horrified at the news. That's all we needed!

“Be in my office as soon as you can. I want to visit a camp as soon as you can, so that we cut these fuckers support from under them.”

“But,” I started. Was the president mad? What if he caught the plague?

“No arguments. Be here or I find someone else!”

“I'm there,” I replied and put the phone down.

“Lucy quick, turn the TV on!”

Lucy flipped the remote and the TV sprang into life “This is NBC News bringing you the latest on the car bomb attacks in New York. In case you have just joined us, five cars loaded with high explosive and shrapnel exploded in New York's busiest shopping area, killing several and wounding at least a hundred more. Emergency services are on the scene as we hand over to Sherla Jones who is on the scene now.

“I'd better go, don't want to keep the president waiting. He'll brief me in full. I'll catch the reports on the radio,” I said, my voice shaky as I saw images of smoke billowing from a number of cars, body shapes covered with blankets and teams of paramedics trying desperately to save as many people as they could . In the corner of the screen I saw a paramedic gently lift a blue blanket over a woman's still head. The paramedic turned away, and went to try help someone else.

Curse +743 Days 23:12 Pat's story - The Space

I swigged the dregs of the bottle of coke, tossed it into the bin at the far side of the room. We were having a quick 10 minutes break before going back out again. So far the performance was going way better than I expected. In spite of that horrific car bomb a few days back, the turn out was good. A thought popped into my head, a reminder from earlier on in the day. That could have been me, I walk past there everyday! I put down the feelings of guilt and took a deep breath. I was on in 2 minutes.

A quick chat to the band and I took the stage to riotous applause. Back in my element again, I grabbed the mike and said, “I was going to sing this as a tribute to all of those who have friends and family with the plague. It's now more than that, this is my tribute to those who died in the other days car bomb attack and more than that, its how I feel right now,” I gave a nod to the band and they started to play.

"On top of the world like a flag on a mountain 
Feeling so high you can feel so alone
Unable to breathe at the height that you flew 
Staring on clouds with no view of below 

On top of a girl like a dream in a hotel
Falling towards something out of control 
Unable to miss like the man in the tram 
Crashing your car in Amsterdam 

He did it without knowing, didn't feel a thing 
He just wrecked it and kept going 

The space around the stars
Is something that you know 
A billion miles of darkness
Left you feeling low 
The space around the stars
Is something that you know
Everything about you 
So perfectly restrained 
But everything inside you
Bites you 

Everybody in the whole of the world
Feels the same inside 
Everybody in the whole of the world

Everyone is only everyone else 
Everybody's got to know 
Everybody lives and loves and laughs and cries 
And eats and sleeps and grows and dies 
Everybody in the whole of the world 

Is the same this time 
Is the same inside
In the whole of the world"

-- oo -- oo --

“The events after the end of the second of the CNN broadcasts from the camps it seemed as though the world was at a crossroads. At the time, the choices seemed clear -- to release those afflicted or to adopt an 'Eyam' policy and leave the camps in place. Hindsight and history shows that these choices were never as clear cut as they seem. I would go so far as to say that no choice is ever as clear cut as it first seems, the consequences never fully known and people's true motivations never as transparent as we might like to believe.”

Excerpt from “The Origins of the Curse' By Prof Richard nee Jane Andrews, Chair Magic Studies, MIT. ISBN 353245543

-- oo -- oo --

Curse +742 Days 10:16 Matthew's story - Repercussions

I was just putting the finishing touches to my latest set of notes on my thoughts of life here, when I heard a knock at the door.

“Hello, I'm looking for a Matthew Robinson,” The voice was female, but had a hissy edge to it. As though the sounds that made up speech had had to be forced out.

“I'm here. Who wants me?” I called out.

“The prophet wants to see you,” the 's's were pronounced more than they should be. More like ss rather than a single ‘s’.

“You'd better come in then,” I replied, getting up out of my chair.

“Ok,” The door opened and in walked a mixture of cat and lady. The person stood I estimated about 6ft tall, its face was an odd mixture of human and cat. Triangular ears poked thru the top of its/her head and long black human hair tumbled over its shoulders. I couldn't help but stare.

“I don't bother you do I?” the cat creature asked?

“Sorry, its just that I'm, “ I felt embarrassed. In spite of the non human nature of it's, no HER looks she was still human inside.

She nodded her head, “not used to non humans,” she finished my sentence for me.

“Yeah, sorry. What's your name?” I asked, trying to get the conversation back on track.

“Carolyn. We'd better go. The prophet doesn't like to be kept waiting.”

“Sure, just a sec,” I glanced around the room, picked up my notepad and pen and followed Carolyn out of the room.

We talked about this and that in spite of my original surprise Carolyn was pleasant company. Before she'd caught the plague she'd been married to an up and coming lawyer. Then one day she'd noticed that she was slowly getting taller. She'd known what it was and she'd ran away from all that she loved, her husband, her home, everything! She'd made up some lame excuse about growing apart and had refused all his calls. The last thing she wanted was to infect him, so to save him she'd left him. Then two weeks after leaving him she'd started to grow fur and that was that. Marriage over, life over, humanity gone and dumped in here with the rest of an afflicted mankind.

I recognized the hut we'd visited before. “We're here!” Carolyn announced.

“Thanks,” I replied. A thought struck me, “Look, I still have some contacts on the outside. I can help track your husband down if you like. Maybe get a letter to him. So you can explain..”

Carolyn's whiskers twitched, as if she was thinking it over, “I promised myself I wouldn't contact him, its better he thinks I'm gone than like this!” she gestured to her black fur covered body. . I noticed for the first time that the hissing distortion was caused by a set of large pointed teeth in her elongated jaw, well I guess it looked more like a muzzle.

I thought for a few moments, “You obviously still love him, maybe he will too. You're not alone. Everyone who's been affected by the plague is in the same boat. It's up to you to prove that under all that fur there's still a human being. The same as it is with me, to prove that in this female body of mine, there's still a man who loves his family. I guess I'll be with the prophet for a while. Think it over and let me know.”

“Ok,” Carolyn nodded.

“You show the beginnings of wisdom, “ The prophet's voice called out to me from inside.

“I guess that's my cue.”

“I guess so,” Carolyn said softly.

I turned to go inside, but sensed Carolyn had left several things unsaid, but when I turned around she'd gone.

The inside of the prophet's hut was exactly as I remembered it. It still took me several moments for my eyes to adjust. The prophet was dressed as before, her face covered with sackcloth and rags. She beckoned me to sit down; which I did.

“You're now starting to see. A little and as if thru a frosted pane of glass, but its progress,” the prophet sounded pleased.

“Thanks. I did what you wanted. I told them about Eyam.”

She nodded, “I know. The enemy has hastened its plans because of it.”

“What enemy? The last time we spoke, you didn't know what was causing the plague. Only a darkness,” I gestured to indicate the vagueness of our last conversation.

“I had to be sure before I told you. I had to know who's side you were on.”

“Did I pass?” Who side was I on? Were there any sides to choose at all? As usual the prophet seemed to have a different agenda to anyone else.

“There is no pass or fail. Only right or wrong, light or dark, life or death.” The prophet replied cryptically.

Trying to keep the sarcasm away I replied, “And you're on the side of life, right?” Here we go again, I thought.

“I'm on the right side if that's what you mean,” the prophet replied. Could I detect the slightest glimmering of a smile on her face under all that covering?

I was getting tired of all this, “What'd you bring me here for?”

“Do you know how things work in the spirit?” the prophet asked.

“Ouja Boards?” I quipped.

“Your jokes reveal your ignorance. Let me share something with you, something that I only realized a week ago.”

“What's that?” I replied. Why do these conversations always seem like some drug induced vision?

The prophet ignored my doubts “Everything in this world and in the world of the spirit is given a domain, areas of authority. To act outside of those domains it requires permission to do so, whether it’s by explicit or implicit means. I guess you could call them boundaries of power.”

“Who's permission?” I asked

“That is obvious. The owner of the domain it wishes to act in.”

“Such as?”

“When you go to a medium or fortune teller, she asks you if you want to go thru with it. Even if she didn't the fact you went there gives her permission to look into your life. You rule your own mind, so she has to gain your permission to access it.”

I could vaguely see where the prophet was going, “So how does this fit in with the plague. I never gave permission for this!” I gestured down at my now female body.

“Correct. If we assume that the plague has a spiritual aspect to it, then it’s also logical to assume that since very few people actually wanted to be affected then whatever is causing the plague owns the domain of what man and animal looks like?” The prophet spoke as though I was some sophomore being kept back after class.

“But what of the Geas?” I asked

“The Geas represent our darkest fears, they spring from who we are. Since we allow ourselves to dwell on such fears, we also give permission for them to be made real. Now I'm not saying that everyone who gets affected fears having a nasty gea, but its interesting that people's Geas are getting stronger and more extreme as the plague goes on. When it first started the Geas where mild. Non smokers becoming smokers for example. As fear started to grow, so we gave the darkness more and more permission to use our fears against us.”

Now we were getting somewhere. Fascinating stuff! “So you're saying that we're partly responsible for what happens to us?”

The prophet nodded, “Yes I am. More than partly, our fear feeds the darkness, gives it the power it needs to grow.”

“So what if we don't give it what it wants, assuming all this is true? Do we kill it?”

“How can you kill what is eternal? No it will be weakened, only able to operate is its domain. Of course not everyone will be able to keep it out. But a few will!” said the prophet in a hopeful tone of voice.

“Is that how the Alphas fit in?” I asked

The prophet studied me carefully ,"Yes, I believe so. Somehow, the Alpha's have been strong enough to resist giving into their greatest fears and so remain immune from the effects of Gea's. They are not strong enough to stop being changed, however."

“You’ve studied this a lot haven’t you?” I queried.

“More than most, less than I should,” The prophets replied cryptically.

I decided to get right to the point, ”Why did you ask me back?”

“To teach, to learn and to warn.”

“Teach? Me? Learn from who and to warn about what?” once again I was nowhere nearer learning anything really and yet part of me knew thought that it had learned something.

The Prophet nodded, “To teach you, to learn from you and to warn you. You are in a privileged position. You have the ear of those who seek power over us. With that position comes great responsibility.”

“I see. You mean the news broadcasts?”

“Yes.”

So the prophet wanted to use me as a voice for her opinions. Over my dead body! “If you think you can..” I started

“Oh no, I don’t want to use you in the way you are thinking. I only want to teach you to see the alternatives, the seemingly impossible probabilities of gray that lie between black and white.”

“Such as?”

“Such as the boundaries of power we talked of earlier.”

That was certainly an impossible probability, I thought.

“You ought to go now. Something big is about to happen and you should be there to influence it,” With a wave of her hand the prophet dismissed me.

I stood up, adjusted my skirt and left the room with my head spinning. No matter how much I try and be skeptical I always come away feeling that the prophet was inherently right about whatever she was talking about.

I have kinda got used to the long walk back, but not of the sights. The displaced people, the wrecked lives were a scar that would take years to resolve and heal. In spite of my media focus I feel isolated from the outside world. I get told, what I see on TV and via the net.

In my mind I start to formulate the next broadcast. The effects of the plague on normal people’s lives would be an interested viewpoint. Of how the entertainment industry has almost shut down, for fear of the stars getting infected and ruining more lives. Of how the birth rate has plummeted, and how technological progress has stalled to little more than what was available pre millennium. So with no new TV, Movies, Music or technological drive mankind is stuck in an eddy, and if your not moving forwards you’re in decline.

Everywhere I looked were people, women like me; how odd that still sounds, like me! Trying to make the best of what the plague had dealt them, but to me, today it seemed as though hope was slowly draining away from these people. They were dying an inch at a time.

I thought back to what the prophet had said. If the plague had an other worldly, supernatural basis to it then it was doing a good job of enslaving mankind. How do you fight something that’s beyond our realm of experience, beyond what we see as normal and something that the majority of the world doesn’t even think exists?

Wearily I walked into my shelter. On the table was a small note, and I picked it up. Written in scruffy cursive handwriting was a single sentence. “Matthew, Call the Camp Director to arrange media coverage for a visit from the president!”

I put the letter down in shock! Only one thing could bring the president here, they had found a cure!

Curse +741 Days 19:30 The Directors Story - Peanuts

I had been ushered into the map room of the White House. The president was already sitting down on one of the Queen Anne chairs and sitting next to him was Geoff Mears, secretary of state for health and human services, Alice Ridge, SECDEF and John Allen, homeland security officer.

I heard the door creak behind me, Lucy walked in and gave the president her usual aloof and her ‘I’m above all of this look’.

“Lucy, Director, take a seat. Geoff here has some wonderful news.”

I took a seat, wondering what kind of news could change the mind of the president, and make him want to visit a camp.

The president gave the group a broad grin, the first time I’d seen him smile in several months. “I’ll cut right to it. We know what causing the plague. As you know thousands of people have been using the spare resources on their PC’s to help collate millions of discrete bits of information. Two days ago some guy in Rochester’s PC found the answer. Mind you, It wasn’t just him, it was the thousands of man years of computing that had gone on around the world that did it. We’re only now confident enough to let the results be known, we’ve had so many hopes raised and then dashed, we’ve learned to be cautious.”

“So the program worked! So what the cause?” I asked excitedly. Inwardly I breathed a sigh of deep relief. Lucy was right, something always comes up. He was right, my hopes had been raised, only to be shattered a few hours later so many times I’d become almost immune to it.

“Geoff?” the president beckoned.

Geoff Stood up, and said “Light off, screen on”

The lights dimmed and the 1755 map of the world charted by Joshua Fry and Peter Jefferson slid back into its protective cover to reveal a large viewscreen.

“This is the cause of all our problems”, Geoff said with a note of triumph.

The view on the screen changed to three small peanut shaped blobs. I’d expect to see something more dramatic, a disease which had caused so much pain and suffering ought to at least look vicious. Even the hook shape of Ebola looked the part, but this just looked like some peanuts surrounded by a greenish fluid.

“What is it?” I asked.

“It’s a prion.”

“Prion?” Alice asked.

“It’s a small proteinaceous infectious particle which resists inactivation by procedures that modify nucleic acids”, I added, giving the textbook answer.

“In English,” Alice added gruffly.

“It’s a protein that carries no Nucleic acid genome, It has no RNA or DNA to speak of, ” I added. Of course it all made sense now. A prion was the infectious agent. Most of the efforts to find the plague had gone into bacterial or viral research, but this was neither! Prions could lay dormant for months or years before coming active. That and their tiny size and lack of nucleic acids made them damn near impossible to spot, unless you knew what you were looking for in the first place.

“So it’s not a bacteria or virus. Whether or not you can become infected with a disease by just a protein, was open for debate, until now,” I added.

Geoff took over, “Several diseases have been identified as being caused by prions, Creutzfeld-Jacob Disease, Gerstmann-traussler-Scheinker syndrome, FFI: Fatal familial Insomnia, Kuru and Alpers Syndrome to name a few, and now this one.”

This was it! My sense of relief grew, until I had to keep down my euphoria. At last my nightmare would soon be over.

“Now we’re not sure exactly how it causes the genetic changes, only that it seems to unlock a persons DNA and cause it to revert to a different state. The Geas are caused by its effects on the brain. Prions typically attack the regions of the brain so that fits the profile we’ve seen so far.“

“Unlock how?” John asked.

“Inside our DNA, we carry throwbacks from evolution. Records of how we got here. This Prion causes these throwbacks to come to the fore again and overwrite the existing persons DNA.”

“How can you be sure its this?, why do people who get the plague turn into women?” I asked.

“We’re as sure as we can be. Every person with the plague has this prion, anyone who is clear doesn’t. These things are so damned tricky to find you wouldn’t spot it unless you did a very detailed autopsy, even then they exist in tiny quantities. Now we know what to look for, we can develop a test to see if you have it or not. As for the female thing, the natural state of any embryo is female, the reversion process can only result in a female form.”

“Any chance of curing the people who already have it?” The president asked hopefully.

“No. It’s not alive as such so anti-viral agents and anti-biotics won’t work. It also changes the DNA, and as yet we’ve no way of changing it back. We’ve had TGen labs working on it for years, but they’re no further forward. Once you have it, that’s it. We may be able to impede its progress by disrupting the protein itself. A little bit like how we treat Parkinson’s disease right now. But you’ll still have the Prion in you.”

“How’s it spread?” I asked. This was killer question. I glanced across at Lucy, she was watching in a detached, almost amused fashion. I knew the cause, but not how it was spread. If we could only stop the infection spreading.

“This is the most exciting bit. It’s not infectious! Not in the normal way anyway. It’s airborne and can be spread by bodily fluids, like HIV, but can’t be spread from person to person like a cold. Now we know what we were looking for we traced its origin to a volcanic eruption in the pacific ocean just over two years ago.”

“Volcanic eruption?” Alice asked.

“Nobody paid much attention to it, it only got a few mentions on the news at the time. But apparently this volcano blew up a tiny island in the middle of the pacific. Crucially, it threw tons of matter into the atmosphere. This would then circulate the globe in the wind over a period of weeks. We sure that this eruption either blew the prion out from under the ground, or caused its formation. We sent teams to the remains of the island, and they confirmed the presence of the prion in massive quantities. Now we’re not sure where the Prion actually came from in the first place, only that this eruption caused billions of them to be thrown up into the atmosphere.”

“So if it’s airborne how come we all don’t get it?” John asked worriedly.

“Some people are more susceptible than others. The Prion seems to affect people with a certain gene in place. If you have the gene, then you can get the plague. This is why a lot of families were affected, and why we thought it infectious. It can also be transmitted in bodily fluids, like HIV can, which explains the husband/wife infections.”

“So let me sum up, so that I get it straight,” I could hardly speak, the nightmare was almost over “The plague is spread by an airborne protein, or the exchange of bodily fluids with the protein in. The protein causes the infected persons DNA to regress and then alters the brain chemistry.”

Geoff nodded, “That’s about it. I’ve got a thousand page document in medical speak that proves it, beyond argument. It’ll be up on the net at the same time as the presidents visit.”

Of course! The presidents visit. Since the plague wasn’t infectious it would be safe for him to visit. I thought it time to ask the question I’d wanted to ask since the meeting began, “Since it isn’t infectious, except by exchange of fluids hadn’t we better let the people in the camps out?”

The president smiled, “That is why I’m visiting Reservation Anderson tomorrow. The terms of my executive order, state that the Reservations will remain in place until the cause is known, and can be contained.”

“How will you contain it?” John asked.

The president replied, “Every person who has the prion will receive a small bar coded tattoo on their right hand before they will be allowed out. That way everyone will know what they are potentially letting themselves in for if they sleep with them. If they refuse, we keep them in the Reservations.”

“So you're singling them out for reprisals!” This was horrible, just like the Jews having to wear armbands in the 1930’s.

“How else are we to protect people? We can’t rely on people’s honesty to own up. This is the only way.”

I sighed. We were creating a future problem for ourselves, I knew it. Yet the president was right, the people in the camps must be let out and the uninfected people must be protected. It was the only way.

Curse +741 Days 16:40 Christopher's story - Test And Trap

I was more tired that I had ever been in my life. The pressure and stress of being on the run were taking their toll on me, I was unable to sleep much. Staying in a motel was out of the question as they ask too many questions, so I’d resorted to sleeping in the car or the occasional barn where I could guarantee nobody would suddenly walk in. I went to the address the cop gave me, and was told to come back in three days. That was three days ago and I’m on my way back to see what they have to say. If they turn me away again I’m not sure where I’ll go or what I’ll do. From the newspaper articles I’ve managed to read the camp system seems to be on the verge of collapse. There are too many people and not enough resources or people willing to risk themselves to help them.

The only good news is that my changes seemed to have slowed down or stopped. I still inwardly shudder every time I look down at my legs. I know that underneath my faded, tatty jeans are the slender, hairless and smooth legs of a woman, a woman who I’m destined to become. The other change that has been growing in my mind on a daily basis is an underlying desire to get those people out of the camps. ‘Normals’ have no right to coop us up in there! I don’t understand where that feeling comes from, only that it grows almost by the hour. Maybe it’s the start of my Gea?

I managed to park the car, and furtively walked down the crowded streets to the apartment block I’d been to a few days before. The elevator was broken, as it had been three days ago and all in all the place still looked a mess. Decayed was the word I was looking for to describe it.

I’m still a little unsteady on my new legs, my centre of gravity still feels odd, and so the walk up six flights of stairs was more tiring that is should have been. It didn’t help that a couple of neon tubes had gone wrong, and so flickered a staccato pattern on light in the dimly lit stairways.

Eventually I reached the door and gave a rat a tat on the door. A few seconds later I heard a woman’s voice “yes”?

“Hi, it’s Christopher. I called three days ago and was told to come back today. I was also told you can help me,” I felt a little foolish standing outside shouting thru a door.

The voice said “Wait, “ I heard footsteps away from the door, and breathed out. This was getting frustrating.

I sat down, folded my legs, and waited.

It must have been about 10 minutes before the voice called out “We need you to do a job, a test if you like.”

“What is it?” I asked suspiciously.

“First of all, drop your pants. We need to be sure you are who we were told you are.”

I could see where they were coming from, but felt acutely embarrassed. I’d tried to keep my jeans on as much as possible, as every glance downwards reminded me what I was becoming.

“We own this floor, nobody will come,” The voice re-assured.

It was clear, that I either obeyed their request or move on somewhere else. Since I had nowhere else to go, I undid my jeans and pulled them down.

If anything my legs had become more feminine in shape overnight, and I noticed to my horror, that my dick had shrunk a little. My hips too had subtly changed shape and were a little more rounded. I thought my changes had stopped, and now I realize how wrong I’d been. That was why I’d been finding hard to walk a long way, I’d still been changing, an inch at a time

Feeling sick and bitter inside I asked, “Happy now?”

“Yes, don’t worry. After you’ve done a small job for us, you’ll be safe and among friends.”

I quickly pulled my jeans up, glad to hide away what I was becoming. I knew that there was no escape and soon I would have to face it, but this slow agonizing change was killing me. It’d have been much easier on me if it’d been all in one go. Then I could have moved on. It’s the waiting that’s the worst thing. “So what do you want me to do?” I asked.

A key to a mailbox slid out from under the door. “Go downstairs and open box number 97. In it you’ll find the keys to a blue Chrysler town and country. Drive it to outside of Bloomingdale’s, and get the subway back here.”

I shrugged, that seems easy enough, “What if I can’t find a space?”

“Drive around until you do. It has to be as close to Bloomingdale’s as possible, Oh, and don’t take too long. You need to be back here by 6.”

“What if I’m not?” I asked. Surely this can’t be all they want me to do?

“Then the deals off!” was the stern reply.

After another brisk run down the stairs I located the mailbox and withdrew the keys inside. I easily found the Chevvy, jumped inside and started to drive. It felt heavier than I expected but since I’d not driven one before I soon got used to it.

Luckily I found a space right away and right outside of Bloomingdales, must be my lucky day. I locked up, took the keys with me and walked towards the subway. I should make it easily, I still had 40 minutes to make it back.

I reached the apartment with 10 minutes to spare and knocked on the door again “Ok done it,” I said breathlessly.

“Wait,” The voice replied.

I sighed inwardly, “Not again.”

This time I didn’t have to wait long, as a few minutes later the door swung open and I walked inside.

The interior of the apartment was a mess, takeout cartons were strewn around the floor, the carpet and the sofa had seen better days. An old Sony CRT TV stood in the corner, it must be a least 15 years old. Decay, there was that word again. The apartment looked as though it had been neglected. What kind of people could help me out, if they didn’t have the resources to live or look after themselves properly?

A small woman, with long purple dyed hair stood to my left. Her hair was unkempt and her clothes were obviously too large for her. Her brown eyes, however glimmered with fanaticism, a kind of religious fervor. “Welcome, my name is Alison.”

“Christopher” I replied in return.

“Take a seat, we’re about to put the TV on. I would suggest you watch it with us.”

“Us?” I asked. I could only see Alison in the room.

“The rest of us, are more cautious. They will join us when you pass the second test.”

“Second test, what’s that?”

“To watch TV”

Curse +743 Days 23:55 Pat's story - What Kind Of God

The greatest gig of my life was going perfectly. I had the audience eating out of my hand. If this is what the stars felt, when they used to perform in front of thousands, then what a life! I’d saved my newest song till last. It could have been written for those being slowly released from the camps, those who had been left behind when they went in, and those still affected by the plague.

“This song is dedicated to those being released from the camps, to those waiting for them when they come home, and to a world asking why.”

"And if the bottle's no solution
Why does it feel so warm
And if that girl is no solution
Why did she feel so warm
And if to feel is no solution
Why do I feel
Why do I feel so tired
Why do I feel so broken
Why do I feel so outside
Why do I seem so blind
I'm so sick of feeling
It's ruined my life"

I glanced up at the video screens showing hundreds of people queuing up in ragged lines getting tattoo’s on their right hand to show they had the plague.

"If living rough is no solution
Why does it ease my mind
If looking back is no solution
Why are we all 
Nothing but children
Children inside

Why do the Gods
Sit back and watch
So many lost
What kind of mother
Leaves a child in the traffic
Turning tricks in the dark
What kind of God?"

The video screens showed images of people running up to wives, husbands and children and giving them a massive hug. All around the world, families were being reunited again.

I crawled around inside myself
It was a long way down
It was a mine and it was mine
And in the darkness
I saw a perfect mirror

Floating in space

When I meet God
I'm going to ask her
What makes her cry
What makes her laugh
Is she just stars and indigo gas
Does she know why
Love has no end
But its dark-angel friend
Tearing women and men
Slowly apart"

I thought of Carolyn, we’d been so much in love. So why had she left? Why did I feel so alone?

"Stain
Don't do that
Scream
Don't do that
Fail
Never do that
Never do that
I want to go out
Don't do that
I want an adventure
Just stay..
I want
Just stay in
I want to make love

And if the bottle's no solution
Why does it feel so warm
And if looking back is no solution
Why are we all just children inside
And if to feel is no solution
Why does the whole damn world feel so broken
So outside and out-of-sorts

A perfect mirror
Floating in space
Waves and numbers
But oh, such beautiful numbers
And oh, such waves.."

Curse +741 Days 18:11 Christopher's story - Gea

I’d been sitting down, on the well worn and threadbare sofa for 20 minutes. Alison had switched to NBC News a few minutes before. Nothing newsworthy was going on.

“I’m watching TV, do I pass?” I asked.

“Not yet,” Alison checked her Casio, “Just a few more minutes.”

“Ok, I’ve nothing else to do,” I shrugged.

A few minutes later the Newscaster was given a sheet of paper, and her face went pale. She composed herself and said “We’re getting reports of a series of large explosions just outside Bloomingdales, New York. First reports indicate that as many as eight car bombs went off just outside the busy store.” Bloomingdales? Car Bombs? No it couldn’t be! I watched intently.

The newscaster continued, “We hand over to Sherla Jones who is on the scene now. Sherla, what is going on?”

A petite blonde lady, was trying to make a news report, but all around her was chaos. Burning cars were everywhere, the camera panned across and I saw the remains a Blue Chevy that looked as though the whole rear of the car had been blown away.

“Just minutes ago multiple car bombs exploded on this crowded sidewalk. It appears as though the explosions were timed so that as people ran away from one, they ran right into the face of another. We can’t be sure of the death toll, but it’s bound to be tragically high. As you can emergency services are on the scene, and are doing the best to help the injured and shocked. No group has yet claimed responsibility.”

I glanced across at Alison, she was studying me intently. “How do you feel?” She asked quietly.

Inside I was horrified, I had been set up! The car I drove less than an hour ago had been used to kill and maim hundreds of people. I was about to say “You bastards,” but instead the words “I feel good.”

It was my voice, but not my inner feelings that I had voiced. Somehow some part of my brain had overridden my emotions. What in hell was going on? I sounded like a cold hearted killer!

“How do you really feel?” Alison asked.

I tried to say “What have you done to me?” But all that came out was “They deserved to die.”

Alison smiled “I know what’s it like. The inner you begs to say what you feel, but some part of you takes over. “

How did she know? All I could do was nod. Inwardly I felt like crying. I’d help kill tens of people and all I could do was tell people how glad I was about it. What is happening to me!!

“Your Gea is starting to make its presence felt,” A voice from behind me said.

I turned my head to see a tall, auburn haired woman with blue/grey eyes. She was wearing what looked to be a designer outfit and I could tell by the way she carried herself she was used to the good things in life.

“My Gea?” I exclaimed.

The tall woman glanced at me, up and down. “Yes. Your real test was how you react to what we had planned and your complicity in it. You passed.”

This was sick, “I did?” My voice sounded pleased, but inwardly I was screaming.

The woman smiled, “With flying colors. If you had not, you would be dead by now. Either way our purposes would be completed.”

“Your purposes?” I wanted desperately too make it sound outraged, but it came out as though I wanted in.

“To force the government to let the people out of the concentration camps they set up to enslave us. If we treat normals the way they treat us, the cursed then they will capitulate. We tried to argue our case, and they refused. Now they will listen.”

“How do I join up?” I felt myself saying. Did I detect a glimmer of excitement in me? I immediately felt guilty. This was so frustrating.

“You wait. We have special plans for you.”

The feeling of excitement returned, “Special plans?”

“Yes. The leader of our movement told us you would be coming?”

“How’d they know?” I queried. Interesting, the block had lifted as soon as the subject turned away from terrorism. I had actually meant to say that!

The Auburn haired lady shrugged, “I don’t ask these things. Only that when I’m told something or someone is coming and they are to do this or that it invariably turns out to be right. I guess one could call it prophesy.”

“Why use me now, why not wait?, I gestured down at my legs.

“Because the police will be looking for a man matching your description. In a few days that man will not exist. If you had failed then you would have been killed, and the police would have had their terrorist. Since you passed you’ll be free to move about in a few days. For now, you have to stay here or be caught,” the woman let the threat hang for a few moments.

So that was it. Either way this organization won. They were right. CCTV would show me parking the car and getting out. They would be looking for me. The thought of killing so many normals and getting away with it, gave me pleasure. They deserved it!

What the fuck was happening to me!

Curse +742 Days 21:30 Matthew’s story - ‘Cry Freedom and let slip the dogs of war’

What a day it’s been! The president and his staff came to visit us inside the camp. They’ve found out what’s causing the plague. They know how its spread and as long as we stick to a few easy rules then we’re free to leave.

The cheer that went up when he announced this was deafening. Of course I was covering it for CNN. What a scoop! Of greatest relief to me is the fact I can get out of here and see my family again.

The whole camp’s morale is sky high. People who were on the verge of suicide are now laughing and joking with the rest of us. Everyone is drunk on life and giddy with the taste of freedom.

Actually, one person looked really pissed to be let out, and that person is the Prophet. When the director and his assistant walked out of the helicopter she pushed her way thru the crowd and stood in front of them. She pointed a finger had the director’s assistant and cried out “Abaddon, Destroyer!”

She was then pounced on by about thirty agents and hustled off back to her house.

The rest of the visit went off without a hitch.

I’d just finished writing my thoughts down in my notebook when I heard a knock at the door, “Yeah?”

“Can I come in?” A voice called. It sounded sad, weary and defeated. It sounded like the prophet!

“Sure,” I called out.

In walked the prophet, but not as I had remembered her. Not the apparent master of what was going on, not the sage of wisdom who had promised to teach me what was really going on. She looked older, gaunt and as though her world had collapsed. I couldn’t see her face, but you can tell a whole lot from the way people walk and carry themselves.

“I thought we had reached midnight, but alas we are only at twilight,” The prophet said wearily as she sat down.

“Why are you here? What happened to you?” I asked, the prophet had always summoned me, never gone to see me herself.

“I am here, for the last time. Abaddon has come, and my time is short!”

“Adaddon? That’s what you called the directors assistant isn’t it?”

The prophet nodded, “I know now what we are dealing with, and that it is beyond my power to fight it alone. I thought that one person could make a difference, I thought that faith alone would be enough. Today proved otherwise.”

“What are we dealing with?” I asked.

“Darkness like the world has never seen before and we are only in the twilight. Night has yet to fall, and when it does the dawn will seem eons away. ”

“So who is she, who is this Abaddon?” I asked. The prophet seemed to be rambling more than usual.

“She is Shiva incarnate, Satan on earth, the destroyer of worlds. I can tell you no more than that; because, if I tell you more then you also are a target, and I truthfully don’t know all of the details. I only know that evil dwells within her. I can only tell you what I see in my spirit. As yet we see the things of the spirit with such little clarity. We focus on the physical world, as though that is all that matters. But in reality the physical is nothing but an expression of the spiritual. Only when we see both in clarity and as a single united dimension will we fully understand. She is the destroyer of two worlds, the spiritual and the physical.”

“I see”, I said. Not really understanding at all, “So how do we stop her,” Better humor her.

“I thought that we stood a chance to stop it. I thought that by delaying the release of us from the camps, we could delay the fall of night. That we could maintain the status quo long enough for more people to be ready. I now realize that in order for daylight to come, we must endure the darkest and longest night in history. I may as well have been trying to stop the moon rising.” The prophet lamented.

What was she saying? That we’ve not seen the worst of it yet? “Longest night? Look around people are happier than they have ever been. In a day’s time we’ll be free to go, free to go back to our families, loved ones and homes. The nightmare’s over. As you put it, daylight is here!”

The prophet shook her head in sorrow, “You do not understand. The hope people are feeling is only a temporary thing, the last fleeting glimpses of sunlight before we are plunged into night. It will not last.”

This got me a little annoyed, who the hell was she to try and dampen down people’s hopes; Just because she felt defeated. That was it! Her own personal empire had been taken away from her, which is why she felt so pissed off about it. “Who are you to take people’s hopes away? Just because your own little empire has been taken down doesn’t mean that everyone has to feel the same as you!”

The prophet stood up to leave, “If that is what you really think then we have wasted our time. When did I ever crave power? People came to me, because they were hurting, they needed answers which I provided them as best I could!”

“You summoned me, like some empress!” I snapped.

“I summoned you, yes. Because you would not have come of your own accord, and because we have so little time left. Others called me Prophet, it is not a title I invented for myself,” the prophet stopped and sat down.

“Then why do you answer by that name? Why not tell them your real name?”

“Prophet is what I am, not who I am. My job was to see the signs and portents of our future. My job was to stand in the breach of the city walls, and to prevent the enemy from coming in, no matter the cost. We loosed a terrible foe upon the world, and it broke down the walls of our humanity, But, it must not pass! This far and no further!” I could almost feel her words cut right thru the air. She said them with such belief and authority that it was almost like a different person sat in front of me.

“What city walls?”

“The city walls represent the allotted boundaries of our authority and place in the universe. Do you know the difference between power and authority?”

I shrugged, “They’re two sides of the same coin.”

The prophet head shook as if I had got a simple question wrong, “If a police officer stands in front of your car and tells you to stop, what do you do?”

“I stop,” I replied

“Why? You have more power than he does. Your car is more powerful than he is. If you hit him at speed he’ll be killed, and your car will only be damaged. So why don’t you run him over?”

“Because if I do that, the full weight of the law will come crashing down on my head.”

The prophet nodded, “Even though you have more power, it’s the authority of the policeman, or who he has backing him up that causes you stop.”

“I guess so. So how’s that relate to our situation?”

“We have given the darkness some of our authority, it is more powerful than we are, but unless it has our authority it cannot prevail. In our ignorance we have handed over some of that authority to it and so given it permission to do what it’s doing now. If we stand in the authority given to us, as is our birthright then even though its more powerful than we are it must flee. All we need to do is stand firm and declare this far and no further!.”

“I see. It all sounds a little too easy,” Well I could almost get it.

“It is easy, but to succeed we need to know, really know deep down who we are and what we are meant to become. If you tried to do this now, the darkness would crush you as easily as you stepping on a bug. The key, the real key is to believe, only then can you stand and not be destroyed.”

“Believe what?

“That Mankind is special. We were never meant to die, evolution only serves itself. How can the eternal heart of man be subject to death and decay? How can we honestly say we have evolved upwards, when the whole world around has been caught in a downward spiral of continued death, mayhem and destruction?”

I shrugged. He had a point. “Wait a minute! Your job WAS to see?”

The prophet nodded, “I failed, just like those around me failed when the plague first hit. There were nine of us, when the plague first struck the world we recognized it for what it was, a spiritual battle as well as a physical one. We resolved to stop the approaching darkness no matter the cost. The media labelled us ‘the intercessors’ but we were only doing what we felt it was our place to do.”

I wracked my brain, the title seemed familiar but it all seemed so long ago “You were part of that group?” I asked, fishing for more information.

The prophet nodded, “Yes. Remember when it first hit. People went to their churches, mosques and temples in their droves. None of it seemed to work. Go to church or stay away, the results were the same.”

I nodded, “Yeah. I remember.”

“I know why that was. People went out of fear, not of faith. They were terrified that it might affect them, so they went to pray out of that fear. They expected to be affected so that’s what happened to them. Of course as more of the people got affected those who were initially in faith succumbed to fear as more and more of those around them fell. As soon as fear crept in, they were lost. A few managed to stand firm, the intercessors stood firm for over a year.”

I gave a click of the fingers, NOW I remembered, “Columbia! You guys were in Columbia!”

The prophet nodded, “The City of Columbia was largely unaffected by the plague for over eight months. We, the intercessors stood in the gap for that city twenty four hour a day, seven days a week. We prevented the darkness from entering that city. We held the battle lines against it, but in the end it overcame us.”

That’s right! Nobody could understand why the rate of infection in Columbia was a tenth of that of the rest of the country. People flocked to live there, or to seek sanctuary. Then one day half the cities population was changed in one night. “What happened?”

“Pride was our downfall. We thought that we were invincible, we relied on our own abilities, we believed that we were something special and so thru our pride the darkness found a route into the city. Thru our weakness the city fell,” the prophets voiced tailed off.

“You can’t blame yourself for that. How can you be sure that you were the cause? Why couldn’t the Prion just have acted slower in that city, maybe something in the soil or the water slowed its spread of effectiveness?” So this was why the prophet seemed so remote and reclusive. She had retreated into herself because of what she thought was her failure.

“I know because I’ve seen the face of the darkness. It appeared to us, in our minds the very night the city fell. It was evil, full of every kind pain and torment imaginable. It was as though every evil deed done by man had contributed to that face. It laughed at us and mocked us for our futile efforts. Then one by one every person in the room broke into spasms and died, except me. It spared me so that the memory of our failure could be kept alive, so news of our failure would demoralize other groups that were springing up around the country, and so make them vulnerable to attack once more.”

“So you remained unscathed? While everyone else died?” Now it was starting to become clear.

“No. Not quite. I was once a man, like yourself; but the darkness had prepared something special for me. I was one of the few that dared to defy it. I knew something was wrong when I felt the burning sensation in my skin, when I felt bones re-arrange inside me. I knew what I was becoming, but not who.”

“Who did you become?” I asked.

The prophet lifted her veil for the first time, underneath was a face of such indescribable beauty it took my breath away. Her blue eyes shone with a radiance that I’d never seen before, her porcelain skin seemed to shine with a light of its own, and her golden hair shimmered as though illuminated on a summers day. I felt myself being drawn into that face. I could have stayed looking at it forever, “You’re…” I managed to say.

The prophet covered up her face again and the spell was broken. “The darkness’s revenge on me, was to make me more beautiful than anyone I have ever seen or met. Every time I would look in the mirror I would see reflected back the physical representation of the pride that caused our downfall. It knew that people would be attracted to my beauty, like moth to a flame, and so fuel my shame further. It didn’t need to give me Geas because in a way the way I look is my curse.”

I was unable to get her face out of my mind, no wonder she wore a veil! She was forced to humble herself because if she didn’t the whole of the camp would be enraptured in her, not what she had to say. I decided to change the subject, “What else can this ‘darkness’ as you call it do? The protein that causes it has been identified, its method of transmission discovered. The rate of infection has dropped to pretty much zero over the last month or so?”

“Never underestimate your enemy. I said earlier on that mankind hasn’t evolved its way up, if anything it has declined and will fall further into decay until the end comes. Do you really think we will have eliminated prejudice, bigotry, violence and xenophobia when we are let out from here? Mankind hasn’t managed to defeat those things over the last few thousand years, so why now? “

“How do you mean?” I asked. The prophet was back on form, that much was certain.

“When we get out of here, do you really expect us to be able to slot back into society, or will people be fearful and resentful of us? They will blame us for that happened to their families and friends, most of them will avoid us, a few of them will strike back in the only way they know how, with violence. We thought we were outcasts here; that’s nothing to what it will be like out there. The non humans will fare worst of all. That is why I’ve been teaching them more than ‘normals’. They and we are the future!”

“Future? How?” I asked. I had to agree with the prophet’s analysis. Until it became common place and the fear had subsided then it would be a dangerous place out there. But anything was preferable to being in here.

“Ever wonder why bad things happen to good people, why if there is a god, deity, supreme being he, she or it seemingly uncares for the world it created?”

“Sometimes, I’ve heard lots of points of view on the subject.”

“What if mankind was stagnating, what if thru our actions we were slowly driving ourselves towards extinction?”

“Were we?” I queried.

"Look at how we were before the plague came. Our societies were in terminal and moral decline, the new gods of science and knowledge were failing us. We are a morally and spiritually corrupt race. This manifested itself in other ways. Birth rate down, fertility down, miscarriages up, and people living longer. We were an aging population, within a few hundred years every single person born on the planet would need to have been artificially made, because fertility was so low. We were on a downward spiral to extinction both physically and spiritually."

I could see the point the prophet was making, "That's true. So how does this relate to the plague?"

"The darkness's aims are to spread fear, destruction and havoc around the world. It only sees those aims, for that is what it lives for. However it has a greater purpose that it, or its masters cannot see."

"Which is?"

"We had forsaken the things of the spirit for things of the flesh. We had lost our way. To us this life is all we have, so we fill it full of experiences, trinkets and transient things. What the darkness cannot see is that by confounding our new gods of science and knowledge it turns us back towards the way of faith and of the spirit. Also it does not see that by changing so many, even into non human form it is reversing the trend. The people who it changes are more fertile than ever and their genetic structure less prone to defects. It's as though the genes that have been holding us back, dragging us down the route of extinction have been removed. Even though it thinks it is doing evil for evil's sake, it is serving the ultimate purposes of good."

"But they're all women, how does that help?" I glanced down at my breasts, making their usual pert shape under my blouse.

"Because, the strain it puts on our lives drives us towards the faith we abandoned so long ago. In the physical realm we now know that more useful genetic material is passed on by the mother than by the father. If it just affected men, then the advantages would be lost within a few generations."

“So why are you against it, surely it would be better to let it take its course.”

“Because it’s going too far, we’ve allowed it to go further than it should have. What should have been restricted to those who wanted it to happen has spread to those who do not. More people are changed who didn’t want to be than those who did. I don’t profess to know all the details; I just know that we’ve dodged a bullet on this one. After every darkness there emerges a light so powerful that it makes the dark times seem so small and so fleeting. When people become used to us, when the fear goes, we will bring humanity together as never before. Not by evolution, not by the fittest surviving after extinguishing the weakest; but a society growing by its compassion, from the love of life and not its extinction,” again the prophet’s voice struck at my very heart. She was right!

“So by our pain, we invoke compassion in those who buried it, because it might have been them!”

The prophet nodded, “Yes. BUT there is a balance. If pushed too far the fear will win and delay the onset of the age of this. That is why I say to the darkness this far and no further. Humanity will be pushed to the limits of what it can endure, but I believe that by the application of real faith, the kind that transcends the mind and unites spirit and soul, combined with compassion for others we will yet prevail.”

I couldn’t argue with that.

“That reminds me,” the prophet said. She reached into a pocket in her robe and pulled out a dull metal bracelet, “I want you to have this,” She said handing it to me.

“What is it?”

“It’s very old, or so I’m told. Nearly a thousand years old. Supposedly it was made from a sword that defeated a great evil and banished it to the dark abyss. I was given it as a present when I joined the intercessors and now I no longer need it I’m giving it to you.”

I was a little taken aback, “Why me. Why not Carolyn, or the centaurs, or anyone else you’ve been teaching?”

“I’m giving it to you, because you will have the most need of it,” the prophet said cryptically.

“You ought to keep it. I can’t accept it. Sure it’s nice and all, but it looks better on you than it does me!” I couldn’t accept such a gift. Nearly a thousand years old, why wasn’t it rusty?

“I don’t need it where I’m going. I WANT you to have it,” The prophet insisted.

“What’s it supposed to do? Ward off evil spirits?” I Joked.

“It didn’t stop the darkness from changing me, but maybe it made it spare me. This is yours now, take it!”

Such was the authority in her voice, which did surprise me somewhat I took it and put it on my left wrist, “Thanks,” It was just a smooth ring of dull grey metal, with no markings on at all. However there were no signs of wear or rust on it, it was also surprisingly heavy.

“One last thing before I go,” the prophet stated.

“Yeah?”

“Remember, the darkness seeks to spread fear in us. Because it’s by that fear it gets its permission, its authority from us. Refuse to give into fear and you will prevail. Stand your ground and it will have to flee, it has no choice. It might act like it’s the master of the world, but it is not. It only has power if we let it. Don’t let go of what I’ve told you, but hold it close to your heart for when the time comes,” the prophet sounded a little sad.

“You make it sound as its goodbye,” I said.

“It is. I doubt we’ll meet again. Thank your for letting me spend time with you. It’s been enlightening,” With that the prophet turned and left the room.

I stood up and got myself a glass of water, wondering what on earth it all meant. Maybe it’ll become clear one day or maybe it’s all a load of hocus pocus; who knows. What was certain was that I had a lot of packing to do.

Curse +743 Days 15:00 Maki's story - Other side of the fence

My lecture had finished early for the day, so instead of spending the time in study I was watching TV. The news that they had found the cause of the plague and that the president was going to Camp Anderson to had broken at midday and I’d been glued to the TV since.

Now as I saw the presidential helicopter touch down in the middle of Camp Anderson I knew things would never be the same again. The president flanked by body guards stepped out of the chopper, his hair buffeted by the spinning rotor blades. Seconds later, another guy got out, and then a much younger woman with long black hair and wearing in a red suit. The commentator told me they were the director of plague control and confinement and his assistant.

Out of the corner of one I saw a figure start to move thru the crowd. For a moment, I thought someone was going to assassinate the president live on TV. In a split second, a tallish woman, dressed in what looked like rags with a veil over her face had squeezed thru a gap in the crowd.

She stood in front of the president, pointed a finger at the director’s assistant and shouted something that sounded like “abandon, Destroyer!” She was instantly jumped on by about thirty security goons and carted off out of camera shot.

The president just waved the incident off and was handed a microphone. “Many of you will have heard rumors that you are about to be released from those holding camps. I can confirm that, that rumor is true.”

A Massive cheer erupted from the crowd. My heart leapt, it was over.

The president waited until the applause had died down, “Earlier on today we had final confirmation of the cause of the plague that has devastated so much of the world. That has taken so many of you away from your families, and has caused so much suffering.”

The president paused, then sensing the time was right said, “The cause has been identified as a special type of protein called a Prion. This Prion causes subtle changes in the brain chemistry, and causes a persons DNA to rewrite itself into a former structure, be it human or not. It is airborne but NOT contagious.”

The president paused to let the information sink in, “I repeat it is NOT contagious. Certain people’s genetic make up, make them vulnerable to its effects. It is these people that were affected first. The other way the plague can be spread is by the passing of bodily fluids from one person to another, this can be thru semen, vaginal juices or blood. In this respect the same HIV precautions will prevent the spread of the plague.”

“I want to stress to you all, that you are not infectious. Your sneezing or touch will not infect anyone else. We anticipate a few more cases from the airborne form and more from the passing of bodily fluids. But there is no longer any need for these camps!”

Another cheer went up.

“However to protect those not infected, one thing is required by you. Your registration bar code will be tattooed on your right hand. This is to protect you as well as those around you. The choice is simple, be registered and go home, or refuse and stay here.”

A hush fell on the camp, this was clearly unexpected.

“The registration mark will also tell us, that any blood given you will not cause any rejection problems, and it will allow the medical services to treat you with no danger to themselves. This isn’t a decision we took lightly, but we think it a small price to pay for freedom and going back to your loved ones.”

The crowd’s mood changed a little, they didn’t like it; but given the choice it was an acceptable compromise.

I gave another sigh of relief. It was over. Soon travel restrictions would be lifted and I’d be free to go home. I missed home.

Curse +743 Days 15:30 Christopher’s story - Take a Yard

“YES!” Alison shouted at the news of the people’s release from the camps.

I’d been stuck in here for two days now. Inwardly I was screaming at my complicity in the car bombings, but I had to admit they had, had the desired effect. It was odd coincidence that two days after we resumed our campaign they find a reason to let the people go. It seems as though, in spite of what the media says; terrorism does pay.

I’ve changed physically too over the past few days. They gave me a drug which sent me to sleep and I just wafted around in a morphine like haze for hours at a time. They said it’d make my transition easier. They were right. My body is now certainly female in shape, my hips grew and I now have a real nice butt and my body now goes in all the right places. If it wasn’t for my budding breasts and shrinking dick I’d be a real girl.

“Ya see that Chris? We won!” Alison was enthusing.

My Auburn haired ‘boss’, Elizabeth gave a broad grin, “It was all worth it. The sacrifice of so many forced their hand.”

I nodded, I brushed my blonde hair away from my eyes. How in hell did you keep it from doing that? “Where do we go from here?” I asked. My voice was still a manly husky sounding tone. It sounded sultry, but to me it was another reminder of who I was, not who I wanted to be.

Elizabeth smiled, “In a few days we go home, then we watch.”

“Watch what?” I asked. My dick was starting to itch. Hopefully it’d be replaced by a pussy tonight.

“We watch what happens. Our leader said, we must be ever vigilant. All it takes is a single incident and our hard won freedoms would be lost.”

I nodded, We may have won the battle, but the war of acceptance still raged. In some ways it was like my acceptance of what I was becoming. I was sure the drugs were helping me come to terms with things. A part of me hated being drugged, as though my free will was being robbed; but they really helped me see that what I had nearly become, wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be.

How much of my thinking has been altered by my Gea I’ll never know. If my Gea is protecting me from feelings of revulsion and horror and growing in my acceptance of it, and almost a pride of what I am then it is no bad thing.

By the way, Elizabeth said, “Our leader’s dropping in about midnight, She’s got a special mission for us.”

Curse +743 Days 22:00 The Directors story - Downsized

The flight back had left me exhausted. I just wanted to get home to my family and chill out. I’d put my briefcase down in my office and was about to lock up for the night when I saw Lucy walking towards me. She was the last person I wanted see, I was too tired to deal with Lucy at the moment. Lucy however looked as fresh as a daisy, she would wouldn’t she!

“Well that was unexpected,” she commented.

“What was? Oh the weird woman in rags?”

“We’ll have to make sure she doesn’t get loose. She could cause all sorts of harm,” Lucy said in a menacing tone.

“Guess so,” I replied. Lucy was right, we couldn’t let the emotionally disturbed loose back on the streets.

“So I guess you’ll soon be out of a job?” Lucy commented.

“You too, “I quipped. Quite frankly this was one job I’d be glad to see the back of. All I wanted to do now was rest.

“Oh I’ll find something to get up to?” Lucy replied smugly.

“I’m sure you will,” I replied coldly. I didn’t feel up to this kind of banter right now.

“You look exhausted, you’d better go home. Anyway we’re still needed for a while, we’ve got all those camps to decommission. That’ll keep our department busy for a while” Lucy said softly.

“True. That’ll take six months for sure. But at least the pressures off now,” The relief I felt showed in my voice.

Lucy gave a wry laugh, “For a while anyway.”

I was too tired to wonder what that comment meant.

Curse +743 Days 23:00 Matthew’s story - Martyr

I had nearly gotten to sleep when I heard banging on my door, “Matthew Wake up. Matthew, you in there?” The voice sounded familiar, that hissing of the consonants was unmistakable.

I gave a yawn, “Carolyn, is that you?”

I swung my legs out of the bed, and adjusted my night dress. It’s strange how I still find my breasts feel odd when not wearing a bra. I opened the door and Carolyn stood there. I could see from her face she was worried.

“Matthew, it’s the prophet -- she’s not answering her door.”

“Maybe she’s asleep, like I should be.” I didn’t have time for this.

“No, we were due to have a meeting and she’s didn’t answer her door. She’s never missed a meeting before!”

“Maybe she’s out, she dropped in here a few hours ago,”

“No, I know something’s wrong. Please come you’ve got to help,” Carolyn sounded panicked.

“What about the other non humans, that centaur for example? They live much closer than I do,” I really wanted to get to sleep.

“They won’t come. I’ve tried,” Carolyn was almost hysterical.

“Ok, lemmie get dressed,” Who needed sleep anyway.

I walked over the small cupboard, that contained my entire wardrobe. The desert air would be cold, so I opted for a pair of jeans, a long sleeved blouse and a jersey. I felt the cold more as a woman than I ever had done as a man. I was aware of Carolyn looking at me get changed, and it made me feel nervous.

Carolyn picked up on this, “I’ll look away if you like. It’s just that I wish I wasn’t like this, “ she gestured to her fur covered face.

I turned to her, bra in hand and said “I wish I wasn’t like this too!”

“Yeah, guess so.”

I hurried to get the remainder of my clothes on and stepped out into the chill night air. I was surprised at how busy the place was, the whole camp had a buzz of expectation about it. People were laughing, packing and saying goodbye to new and old friends. Phone numbers and addresses were being exchanged, if I had to compare it to anything it was like the last day of high school before I went on to college. People promising to ‘keep in touch’, and be ‘friends forever’. It was a little sad, but at long last we would be free.

I didn’t have much time to look around as Carolyn sped off, and it was all I could do to keep up. I discovered that I was seriously out of shape, as I was exhausted by the time we reached the prophets hut.

“Hello,” I banged on the door loudly.

No answer, the lights were on though and the door was thoroughly locked. “Hello?” I called out again.

I was about to bang once more, when Carolyn stopped me, “I think I hear something.” She said and pressed her triangular catlike ear to the door.

I couldn’t hear a thing, except my heart pounding from the run here!.

“It’s the prophet, she’s inside. I can hear her moaning. She’s hurt!” Carolyn gasped.

“Help me bash the door down!” I exclaimed, If the prophet was hurt that would explain why she didn’t answer.

“Ok after three,” I’d take a few steps back, as had Carolyn.”

“One”

I readied myself, and noted Carolyn was doing the same.

“Two

I shuffled to the right a bit, it wouldn’t do to crash into Carolyn on the way in

“One,” and we sprinted off together.

“OW” I exclaimed as my shoulder hit solid metal but I then heard a rending of metal as Carolyn’s apparent superior strength had ripped the door from its hinges.

We looked up and nearly vomited in horror.

The Prophet had been crucified upside down, on the far wall. She had been stripped naked and a long, massive gaping wound had been cut from the top of her neck to her groin and several internal organs had been pinned outwards to the rest of her body. Blood poured from her hands and feet and her once beautiful face and hair were matted with black congealed blood. Blood was drying in a large pool underneath her head

I walked closer, trying my hardest not to throw up, her chest was still moving. She was still alive!

“Mat, “ The prophet rasped. How on earth she was still alive was beyond me.

“Carolyn, get help” I called.

“Matthew, its too....” Carolyn said quietly.

“Just get someone,” I screamed.

I turned back to the prophet, “its ok, Carolyn’s getting help.” I tried to look for something that I could use to remove the spikes from her hands and feet but could see nothing. The spikes were a good inch across and had somehow been driven into sheet metal.

“Take,” The prophet started to say.

“Shh,” I said softly, trying to comfort the dying woman in front of me.

“Authority,” The prophet’s voice was weak

I moved closer to her, so weak was her voice. Who ever had disemboweled her knew what they were doing. Her stomach and intestines had been pinned neatly to each side, so as to avoid quick blood loss and I could see what looked like her kidneys underneath them. I tried not to throw up, but it was a losing battle.

I barely managed to keep it down, and I turned to look at the prophet’s blood covered face once more, “its ok. I’m here.”

The prophet’s breathing became more erratic and I knew I she was fighting a losing battle for life, “Take Authority back,” she rasped. The effort of speaking was now so great her voice was hardly a whisper.

“Ok, Take authority back, I get it. Carolyn will be back soon, “ I comforted.

“This far, no further!” Even near death the prophet’s voice had a certain degree of command about it

I nodded, “This far and no further! Ok got that too!”

The prophet managed a smile, even though I could see pain wracking her face. Suddenly she spasmed and coughed up blood and yellowish bile. A wave of sadness swept over me. The prophet was dead.

I stood up and looked at the prophet’s naked, mutilated body. Who could have done such a thing? There were no signs of a struggle, and the door and windows had been locked from the inside. How had anyone got in?

Carolyn came running in with the camp medic. I shook my head, “It’s too late.” I blinked back the tears. Who would do such a thing! The prophet had harmed no one! My hands drifted to the bracelet I wore on my wrist, and my mind leapt back to earlier on today. Did the prophet know something was going to happen?

Carolyn walked over to the prophet’s lifeless body and with her hand closed the prophet’s eyes. “Who could do such a thing?” I knew Carolyn was upset, but no tears formed in her feline eyes.

“I’ll get camp security, they’ll want a statement from you two, “the doctor said. Like all of us he was trying to put on a brave face.

I couldn’t stand it any more I walked outside and at long last threw up.

Curse +743 Days 23:59 Christopher’s story - Meeting the Boss

A sharp Rat-tat on the door caused me to jump out of my near sleep. The clock on the VCR told me it was nearly midnight. That must be the boss.

“I’ll get it.” Elizabeth called out from the other room, and seconds later she was at the door.

In walked a tall woman, with long silky raven black hair. She was dressed in a sharp red business suit and carried an air of superiority about her. The woman’s dark black eyes seemed to bore right into my soul. I couldn’t help but feel under her spell, it was as though she had a hold over me, no more than that! She owned me!

“Come in please,“ Elizabeth said to the woman. Her voice was awed as though she was in the presence of royalty.

“Thank you.” The woman’s voice was like running water.

Not waiting to be asked, the woman sat down opposite me, and stretched out her impossibly long legs. Beautiful wasn’t the only word I would use to describe her, she had an aura of power and of utter confidence, “You must be Christopher. Elizabeth told me all about you.. Well done in those car bombs. As you can see from the news they had just the effect we were looking for!”

Inside me, I felt great joy, more happiness than I’ve ever felt in my life “My name is Lucy,” the woman said quietly.

Suddenly it hit me, she was THAT Lucy, The National Director of plague control and confinement’s assistant. Lucy saw the recognition flick across my face. “Yes I’m that Lucy!”

She stood up and sat down next to me, and put a hand on my slender leg, “And you are quite simply the most beautiful creature I ever seen!”

I felt my tiny cock stiffen, was she coming on to me? I could feel an erotic tingling down my back. It was like the best sex I’d ever had, and she had only just touched my leg!

“I have a job for you,” She whispered in my ear, her voice sounded so sexy another wave of tingling came over me.

“What is it?” I managed to ask.

By now my tiny dick was fully erect.

“Let me help you with this, “ Lucy whispered and cupped her hand over my cock.

Warmth spread throughout my body, and wave upon wave of pleasure crashed over me. I could feel my erect cock starting to shrink. I gave a gasp of pleasure as I felt my vagina form inside me. At last!

I reached down and pushed my hands inside my pants, another I gave another moan of pleasure as my finger touched the warm fleshy folds of my pussy. I pushed inwards again, feeling its moistness and willingness to be penetrated. I opened my legs ready to explore some more.

“Now, now you can play with yourself later,” Lucy said, with an air of amusement.

“Now,” I breathed.

Lucy ran a finger down my cheek and I felt intense pleasure, it seemed spread outwards from my pussy and thru the rest of my body. I couldn’t help but cry out in pleasure, “Later on.” She said firmly.

“Later on then,” I managed to say.

Lucy stood up and sat on the other chair, “Pleasure later! Business first.”

“Ok, “ I panted. Inside I felt all pent up and turned on, why had she stopped!

“In 175 days time I want you to fly to the island of Las Palma.”

“What’s there?” I asked.

Lucy gave me a glare that cut me to my very being, what a cruel mistress she could be!

“A vacation is what’s there. You are to fly to La Palma and wait for me to call, is that understood?”

I nodded, “Seems easy enough!” I wanted to ask why she wanted me there, but my Gea shut me up!

“I’ll give tickets and a passport to Elizabeth on the way out, “Lucy said softly and stroked my face once more.

Again intense pleasure crashed all over my body, I would do anything for Lucy to touch me again, anything at all..

Curse +744 Days 01:23 Matthew’s story - Suspect

“So that’s how you found her?” Camp security was giving Carolyn and I a grilling about how we found the prophet.

“Yeah,” I said. I was on my last legs, so tired…

“I’ve heard enough. I don’t think we’ll ever find the killer, “ The camp security chief folded her report book up as if to say case closed.

“Wait a minute, that’s no way to conduct an investigation. What if her killer strikes again!” I summoned up the energy to shout at the chief.

“Look, In 24 hours we’re all out of here. Nobody cares about anything any more. We’ll pass the details onto the police when we do a handover, but I’m not going to be the one to tell thousands of people they can’t go home are you? We’d have a riot, and more people would die.”

I sighed, whoever did this was going to get away with it, ”So that’s it!”

“Yep. That’s it. If you want my take on it, somebody was pissed off at this prophet for trying to stop them going home. Hell, I was pissed at her too. The killers had their revenge and that will be that, and if it’s not the cops will get them. Case closed.” The chief stood up and gestured for us to leave his office.

“So that’s it!” Carolyn sounded distressed, I was just as mad as hell!

“Looks like it. I can kinda understand it though. Would you want to be the person who told the entire camp they had to wait to go home?”

“Guess not! In anycase I think I might stay here!” Carolyn said quietly.

“Why? Don’t you have a home to go to?”

Carolyn shook her head, “No.”

“What about your husband?”

“He wouldn’t take me back like this would he?” she gestured to her fur, “Besides, I’ve no idea where he is at the moment.”

A thought struck me, “Let me help you.”

“Pardon?”

“I’ve got contacts, let me help you find him for you. At least you’ll know,” After the night's horror I had to do something good, something to help someone in need. I needed to feel human again.

Carolyn’s whiskers twitched, she was thinking about it, “Ok come back with you and check into a motel.”

I was going to invite her home, but figured I’d better wait a while before taking that step. “Ok, but the motel’s on me ok?”

“Never look a gift horse in the mouth,” Carolyn smiled.

“Deal!” I said, holding out my hand.

Carolyn took it in her soft furred hand and shook it.

I could hardly stay awake, and yet I was wide awake. Within a day or so I’d be home, with my family and away from all this. To say I felt joyful at the thought wouldn’t be exactly true. Apprehensive, sad, happy, relieved; all of the above was more like it. Still, I knew that It’d work out just fine. It always did.

Curse +756 Days 22:45 Pat's story - 21st Century Love Story

So well had my concert gone down, I was now regular performer at ‘Gate’s Nightspot’. Now in pre-plague times I knew I wouldn’t have been up to playing live, as someone better would have come along. But in these days of pre-recorded music, and rock stars unwilling to play live and tour, a live band and performer was something of a rarity. It wasn’t as though I was afraid of catching the plague, I was. It was more down to being able to afford to eat, and the catharsis that playing music gave me. It seemed as though every time I picked up a guitar or sang the pain of losing Carolyn went away, or at least diminished it a little. I was just over half way thru my performance and was taking a swig of my water. A gave a deep sigh, how I missed her! Still, there was nothing I could do about it; I had a gig to do.

“Everybody knows we live in a world
Where they give bad names to beautiful things
Everybody knows we live in a world
Where we don't give beautiful things a second glance

 Heaven only knows we live in a world
Where what we call beautiful is just something on sale
People laughing behind their hands
As the fragile and the sensitive are given no chance

 And the leaves turn from red to brown
To be trodden down
To be trodden down
And the leaves turn from red to brown
Fall to the ground
Fall to the ground

 We don't have to live in a world
Where we give bad names to beautiful things
We should live in a beautiful world
We should give beautiful a second chance

 And the leaves fall from red to brown
To be trodden down
Trodden down
And the leaves turn green to red to brown
Fall to the ground
And get kicked around

You strong enough to be
Have you the courage to be
Have you the faith to be

You sane enough to be
Honest enough to stay
Don't have to be the same
Don't have to be this way
C'mon and sign your name

You wild enough to remain beautiful?
Beautiful

And the leaves turn from red to brown
To be trodden down
Trodden down
And we fall green to red to brown
Fall to the ground

But we can turn it around

You strong enough to be
Why don't you stand up and say
Give yourself a break
They'll laugh at you anyway
So why don't you stand up and be
Beautiful

 Black, white, red, gold, and brown
We're stuck in this world
Nowhere to go
Turnin' around
What are you so afraid of?
Show us what you're made of
Be yourself and be beautiful
Beautiful”

The applause died down, and suddenly the crowds parted. A sudden hush descended on the place. It was though everyone in the audience had seen a ghost. The bright lights of the stage dazzled me, so I couldn’t see it all in detail. But I did see two figures walk in. My eyes took a second or two to make them out.

One was a Hispanic looking woman, the other was some kind of mixture between cat and woman. The cat-woman towered above her companion, her odd face looked at me intently. The basic shape was that of a woman, but the lower jaw had been stretched out to form a cat shaped muzzle. Two triangular ears poked out of the top of her long black hair, and she was covered in black fur. It was my first real view of a non human, and I will admit to being a little freaked by it. I then realized that everyone else in the room was thinking the same thing.

“Fuck off freaks!” I heard someone call out.

“Yeah, piss off back to your camps where you belong!” Another voice shouted angrily.

This could turn ugly. Ever since people had been released from the camps a couple of weeks ago there had been skirmishes between people who wanted the plague victims to go back to the camps, where they were out of the way and those who had been let out. Plague victims were easy to spot, they all had a bar coded tattoo on their right hand. This made them easy pickings for people who’s fear caused them to become violent. Xenophobia was rearing its ugly head once more. I understood where they were coming from. We only had the government’s word that they had found the cause of the plague and how it was spread. Only time would tell if they were right or not.

None of which solved the tension building up in the room. The cat-woman turned to leave, but her companion tugged her arm and said something. The cat-woman went to leave once more, but the woman with her shook her head and pointed to a vacated table in a darkened corner of the room. Quietly they made their way over to it and sat down.

Within moments a menacing crowd formed round the table. Something in me just snapped. These were still people, they’d just been in the wrong place at the right time. “HEY!” I shouted.

My voice boomed around the room, I’d forgotten I was wired up! Every head turned towards me. Hmm nice move Pat!

“Didn’t any of you listen to what I was just singing about? Didn’t you get it? These PEOPLE here have come in, to listen to some music, have a drink or two and enjoy themselves. Just like you have!”

Murmuring from the crowd. Now their anger was directed at me, as well as them! How to isolate an audience in one easy step!

“Look! Give em a break. They’ve been in those god awful camps for months or years. That could have been you or me sitting there. Just leave them alone, nobodies forcing you to sit near them, have a drink with them or even speak to them. So, either you shut the fuck up and let me play, or you go home. The choice is yours!”

Silence.

Then, one by one about a third of my audience filed out, glaring both at me and the plague victims in the corner. Nice going Pat! I breathed a sigh of relief. At least it hadn’t turned into a bar fight.

I gave a smile, “Now the children have left the room, time for a song for grown ups!”

The cat-woman and her partner stayed sitting down for the entire rest of the gig. The waitresses were very wary about serving them and simply left the drinks at the end of the table. They were still sat down after I’d finished packing away.

"A wise man once said
A flower is only
A sexual organ
Beauty is cruelty
And evolution
A wise man once said
that everything could be explained with mathematics
He had denied
His feminine side
Now where is the wisdom in that?

I came just as fast as I could
Through the dirty air
Of your neighborhood
Your name on a grain of rice
Hangin' around my neck
And a head like lead

This is the 21st century
I heard everything they said
The Universe demystified
Chemicals for God
This is the 21st century
I heard everything they said

A wise man once wrote
That love is only
An ancient instinct
For reproduction
Natural selection
A wise man once said
That everything could be explained
And its all in the brain

We lay on a velvet rug
by the open fire
She blew air on my eyelids
I cried "What's it all about?"
As she kissed my hair
She said "There, there.."

"This is the 21st century
I heard everything you said
The universe demystified
Astronomy instead
This is the 21st century
Can't you get it through your head
This aint the way it was meant to be
Magic isn't dead
Come to bed
Come to bed

And rest your heavy head my love.."
And slowly, from above,
She showed the answer's something that can't be written down

This is the 21st century
Flash to crash and burn
Nobody's gonna give you anything
For nothing in return
There's a man up in a mirrored building
And he just bought the world

 Would you want
To have kids
Growing up
Into what's left of this?

She shook her head,
She said "Can't you see?
The world is you
The world is me."

Oh my god! The woman is coming closer, she wants to speak to me! I was happy to defend them, and defuse the situation but I’ve never been near anyone who had the plague before. What if the scientists were wrong?

“I want to thank you, “She said in a Spanish accented voice.

“It’s ok,” I waved away the thanks. I studied her face. It looked vaguely familiar.

“You took a big risk coming here. I hope you enjoyed it?” I asked. Smalltalk wasn’t my forte. Who was she?

“I’m starting to learn that. It’s odd I never expected so much open hostility towards us!” the woman said quietly.

Now I know who she is! “You look a lot like that CNN reporter!”

“Guilty as charged. Yeah I’m Matthew Robinson. Don’t worry I’m not here to do a review!” The woman gave a wry smile.

“So why are you here? Who’s the ‘woman’ with you?” I asked glancing at the cat-woman staring intently at me from across the room.

“She’s a friend of mine. We met in the camps. She’s got nowhere else to go, so she’s staying with me for until she can find her feet again. Come over I’ll introduce you.” Matthew nodded in the cat-woman’s direction.

What was CNN’s main reporter from the camps doing here? Sure as hell it wasn’t some R&R? Even so I guess reporters need some time out. I walked over to the table and sat down.

I studied the cat-woman’s face. Now I looked closer, I saw that she had a complete set of whiskers that seemed to twitch every few seconds. Her eyes were a green color and had a feline look about them. As I had noted when I first saw her, her face had a sculptured shape about it, if it hadn’t had a catlike muzzle, ears and fur one might have called it beautiful, “Hmm Hi” I said.

If feline eyes could look sad it they did so. Matthew sat down next to her and I detected him giving her a nudge as if to say “go on.”

The cat-woman’s whiskers twitched, “Hello Pat it’s me!”

How did she, it know my name. It took a few seconds to sink in and my blood ran cold, “Carolyn?”

The cat-woman nodded slowly, “Yeah. Pat I’m so sorry! I had to..”

“Leave me? Why? You fucked me over. I’ve only now started to get things back together again,” the pain of the last few months came flooding back.

Carolyn’s cat face gave me a glare, “I’ve have been a little busy recently, what with changing species n all,” she said bitterly.

“I’m sorry for what happened,” In spite of my self pity and anger, its clear Carolyn has had a tough time of it. In spite of the pain of her leaving I loved her, used to love her..

“I’ll leave you to it. Carolyn I’ll be outside, I need a cigarette, “ Matthew said softly.

Carolyn nodded. The fact that this creature, sitting opposite used to be my wife, was having a hard time sinking in.

“Why did you go? You said it was because you needed some space, that we’d grown apart?”

Carolyn’s whiskers twitched a little, and her green catlike eyes dropped. “I lied. I’m sorry Pat. I had to.. drive you away?”

“Why? Because you had the plague?” It was now starting to become clear.

Carolyn nodded, “I woke up one day and found that I was an inch taller than I should have been. I knew what it meant right away. The Plague had already affected Geoff and Alex, and so the law firm was about to close because of it. Then I had it. I didn’t want to put you thru it, to inflict it on you. I loved you too much to see your life, your very being be torn apart like it had Geoff and Alex’s. Pat, please believe me, I did it to protect you!”

I could see where she was coming from. The plague devastated people, it robbed them of their identities, plunged their families into despair as they sought a way to resolve the changes that it forced t upon them. She knew how terrified I was of catching it after my law partners had got it, “Why didn’t you tell me this. I would’ve understood?”

“Would you? Pat, the whole world was going crazy. Still is! You might have been willing to sacrifice everything, but I wasn’t. Pat, I saw what went on in those camps. It wasn’t like some kind of luxury camping site. People died there everyday! I was shielded a little from it, because the ‘non humans’ stuck together. We were outcasts even inside there. But, by sticking together we shared everything. We always had people to lean on, to help us thru the hard times. Pat, you’ve no idea what it was like in there!”

“I saw Matthew’s reports. It looked horrible!” The images came flooding back. Of the poverty, the anguish and sheer hopelessness.

Carolyn shook her head slowly, “Matthew’s reports showed nothing. His first report came closest, but after that he was asked to tone it down.”

“Yeah, I remember that Eyam story. So the government hushed it up?” I asked. If they lied to us about camp conditions, did they lie to us about the Prion?

“They did ask him to tone it down a little. But the main pressure came from the ‘prophet’” Carolyn said thoughtfully.

“Who’s that?” I asked. Prophet? Never heard of him.

“Did you see the broadcast when the president visited the camp? The prophet was the woman who pointed at the directors assistant and cried ‘destroyer’. The prophet was the woman who gave us hope, where there was none. Even though we no longer looked human, she showed us that we were still human,” Carolyn looked sad, “I miss her!”

“What happened to her?” I asked.

“She was killed the day we were due to be let out,” Carolyn’s face dropped, “Somebody crucified her upside down, and disemboweled her while she was still alive. Matthew and I found her just before she died. It, it was horrible!”

“I’m sorry. Who would do such a thing?”

“No idea. She was respected by everyone.”

“Why did you come tonight?” I asked. As sad as this prophet’s death sounded. I wanted to get back to the point.

“To see you,” Carolyn stated.

“Why?” I demanded

“Because,“ Carolyn paused for a few moments, as if deciding what to say next, “Because I still love you.”

I was dreading her saying that. Now what was I supposed to do? If I turned her away I would be denying how I used to feel about her, and still feel in a small way. She would also be on the streets, relying on the good will of friends to give her a home. If I took her back in, could I face living with someone who looked like she did? It seems so small minded and bigoted to think that way, but its how I feel. Half an hour ago I would’ve given anything to have her back, but now?

“Tell me what you are thinking?” She asked, no almost pleaded.

“This, this is too much, too fast! If we were to get back together it could never be as man and wife,” I almost recoiled at the thought of stroking her fur. Women weren’t supposed to have fur and look like a cat. Even if I could get past that hurdle, she could still pass on the plague if we had sex.

“I know what I look like! You think its easy being this FREAK!” Carolyn snapped.

“I’m, I’m sorry. I should be able to look beyond what you look like, and in time I’m sure I will but right now, I’d be lying if I said that it didn’t bother me.”

Carolyn stood up, her green feline eyes looked at me with such sadness. “Then that’s it then. I thought you still loved me! When the crowd were about to turn on us, you called us PEOPLE! That’s what I am, underneath all this fur I am a PERSON. I can’t believe you’re such a hypocrite. So,” she gestured to her face, “this is the face of a person as long as that person isn’t your wife! Is that it?” She turned away and went to leave.

I knew I’d hurt her badly, I grabbed her arm, her fur felt silky smooth, just like that of a well groomed cat, “Carolyn, I don’t know what to feel. This is all too quick, too sudden. I need some time to think about it, get used to it, work out what I really feel. Of course you’re a person, but, but” The sound of a siren outside broke my concentration.

“I understand, “Carolyn’s triangular ears twitched as the siren got closer and seemed to stay outside, “Something’s up!” she said.

Ignoring the siren, I replied “I know this is hard on you. All I’m asking is for a little time.”

“OK, look meet me by the Madison street Garden sign at 2pm a week today. We’ll talk then,” Carolyn offered.

I nodded, I was too tired to talk about it more. Besides, I had some more clearing up to do.

I watched Carolyn walk, no slink away. Now she turned away from me I could see a large bulge in the rear of her pants. That must be where she kept her tail. Oh my God what is going on? I was torn in two Carolyn the person I had fallen in love with wanted me back. But Carolyn the woman I had fallen in love with was gone forever.

I walked back to the stage, and started to clear away the last of my gear. A minute or two later Carolyn came running back inside, her ears pressed flat against her head, “Pat, please come quickly. Matthew’s been hurt!”

Curse +756 Days 22:50 Matthew’s story - ‘Jacked’

“You sure you want to do this,” I asked Carolyn as we rounded the corner to Gate’s nightspot.”

Carolyn nodded, “I have to know if he still loves me. I have to know if I have to face this alone.” She gestured to her furry body.

“Carolyn, we’re never alone!” I replied, taking her arm in comfort.

Carolyn gave a wry smile, “That’s something the prophet might have said.”

I glanced at the metal bangle the Prophet had urged I take, “Yeah guess so.”

We walked up to the doorman, who glared at us, especially Carolyn. “Sorry we don’t do your sort!” he said gruffly

Over the past week or this kind of bigotry and hostility towards the plague victims had gotten worse. Most people accepted it and looked upon us as curiosities. That was until we moved into their neighborhoods. Then the ‘we don’t want your type’ mentality set in. People were getting attacked, just because they happened to have a single protein inside them different to everyone else, or in Carolyn’s case only looked half human.

“Look! My money is as good as anyone’s, and besides,” I fished inside my purse and got my CNN reporters ID out and a twenty dollar bill, “This says let us in or this place will be national news!”

The muscle studied my CNN ID, took the twenty bucks and gestured for us to go in, “If there’s any trouble you two are out and I’ll call the cops!”

“Fine,” Carolyn muttered under her breath.

We walked into the dimly lit nightclub. The lead singer, who Carolyn had told me was Pat was just finishing a ballad of some description. As soon as someone noticed Carolyn a hush fell over the room. People quickly got out of the way , partly in fear and by the looks of disgust on their faces, partly in horror too.

“This is too much,” Lamented Carolyn. Fuck knows what she felt like. If it was bad enough losing your humanity, having it semaphored in a room of a few hundred people must have been awful.

I could sense the hostility in the room, give me a war zone anytime. “There’s a spare table over there,” I whispered to Carolyn.

“I can’t do this, Matthew, “Carolyn turned to leave.

I grabbed her arm, “Do you love him or not?”

“Yes. But thesse people hate me. What if he thinkss the ssame way?” Carolyn whispered, when she got upset her hissing mispronunciation got worse.

I took her arm again, “You came to find that out! You can’t move on unless you know for sure! Look, lets’ go to that table over there,” I pointed to the free table again. Carolyn sighed, and we walked over and sat down.

Suddenly we were surrounded by a group of men and women. They were looking at us. A few held their bottles of bud, as though they were about to break them and glass us.

All of a sudden we heard Pat’s voice shout “HEY!”

The word echoed around the room, and was then followed by Pat saying ““Didn’t any of you listen to what I was just singing about? Didn’t you get it? These PEOPLE here have come in, to listen to some music, have a drink or two and enjoy themselves. Just like you have.”

Go Pat! I thought.

Pat was saying “Look! Give em a break. They’ve been in those god awful camps for months or years. That could have been you or me sitting there. Just leave them alone, nobodies forcing you to sit near them, have a drink with them or even speak to them. So, either you shut the fuck up and let me play, or you go home. The choice is yours!”

The people surrounding the table go the message. A lot of them walked out of the club in disgust. Good riddance!

I could see Carolyn’s eyes light up with hope.

We sat down, ordered a few drinks and listened to the rest of the concert. I had to hand it to Pat, he wasn’t bad.

When the concert was over I walked over and thanked Pat. He seemed pleasant enough, although a little wary of me. Understandable really, after all we were the people who had nearly caused a fight and made him lose of a lot of his audience.

We walked over to the table and sat down. His face dropped in surprise and what looked like horror when Carolyn revealed who she was. The discussion was getting heated and I had no desire to play piggy in the middle, and I my Gea told me I needed cigarette, now!

I brushed past the doorman who glared at me and hung around outside. I’d been hanging around for what seemed like ages when a group of around four men and two women came up to me, the men were dressed in blue denim and scruffy looking T-Shirts. The women were to put it blankly dressed like sluts. Each of them wore a tight halter top, tight leather skirt and fishnets.

“You got a light?” A rough looking blonde asked.

“Yeah sure,” I rummaged inside my purse and pulled out my lighter.

Suddenly I was grabbed from behind and a hand covered my mouth. I tried to scream, but it was muffled by the hand over my face.

“Check her palm,” A man’s voice from behind me said menacingly.

I tried to resist. They were going to see if I had the plague or not! But they were too strong.

“She’s got it,” one of the woman proclaimed, on seeing the tattoo on my hand.

Pain rippled thru my body as my arms were pinned behind my back. If had been a man I might have been able to fight back, but they were too many and too strong. I heard a rip and one of the women had torn the sleeve off of my blouse. The other woman pulled out a syringe, “Hold still,” The man’s voice from behind me said.

I screamed out as the woman plunged the syringe into my arm and let the blood flow into it. I was about to call out again when blinding pain smashed thru my head and it all went black.

Curse +756 Days 01:14 Pat’s story - Recovery

We’d rushed outside and seen Matthew being stretchered into an ambulance. I quickly found the cop, who was obviously trying to find someone who had seen anything. “What’s going on officer?”

“Just a mugging, Did you see anything?” The cop asked.

“No, I was inside at the time. Is she going to be ok?”

The cop shrugged, “Dunno. She’s got some head injuries, and it looks as though she’s been ‘jacked’”

That term was a new one on me, “jacked?”

The cop wasn’t in much of a mood to talk, “Is she any relation?”

“No, just a friend of my wife,” I nodded towards Carolyn who was standing to one side, so as not to get in the way. Wife, how odd that description sounded of the cat-creature she had become. My wife!

The cop glanced at Carolyn and frowned. I could tell he was trying to look polite, but inside he recoiled. He had reacted in just the same way as I had!

“Ok, look they’re taking her to NewYork-Presbyterian Hospital,” I’m sure they’ll let you in to see her. Has she any family?”

I hadn’t a clue, “No idea, we’ve only just met.”

The cop nodded, “Ok. Tell your ‘wife’ to be careful. The Jacker’s might still be around. She’d be a prize if they got hold of her.”

Carolyn had wandered over, “What’s going on?” she asked in her peculiar accent.

“Your friend’s been jacked. I’d go home as soon as I could, “ the cop advised.

”What’s jacking?” Carolyn asked.

I’m glad to see I’m not the only one up on current events.

“Plague victims like yourself, and your friend get mugged. They take a syringe or so of blood and then leave the victim in a bloody mess,” the cop explained.

“What’d they need the blood for?” I asked.

“Easy! to threaten people with.” Carolyn added.

“Yeah, They then use the threat of giving someone the plague to get money, cars, drugs anything they like,” the cop explained.

“Fucking hell,” Carolyn swore. I could see it in her face, it was getting too much for her. Strange how much of the real Carolyn was able to show its way thru her catlike face.

“We can go and see Matthew, if we like,” I offered to Carolyn.

“I think he needs his family more,” she said dejectedly.

“I thought you two were close friends?” Why didn’t she want to go see him?

“We are. Pat, this is so hard! First seeing you again, then this! I wish I was back in the camps!” Carolyn sounded distraught. But there were no tears in her feline eyes. Was it all an act?

“Come on, let’s go see him,” I’ll call a cab.

“It won’t work. No cab will give me a ride. We’ve had to walk everywhere, and after what’s happened to Matthew I daren’t go. Pat, I know you hate the sight of me, but hold me. I need it,” Carolyn walked over to me.

I couldn’t bear to see her like this. She was more alone than I had realized. “Come here,” I said and opened my arms up.

We embraced for the first time in over seven months. I could feel the silkyness of her fur against my face. Her whiskers brushed my face, feeling a little like stubble does. I could feel her breasts pushing against my chest, but there was no arousal there. Her face brushed against mine and it felt silky smooth, like brushing velvet. It was hard to imagine that beneath the fur was skin and bone. I had an idea, “It’ll be a while before Matthew gets to the ER. Why don’t we walk back to my place. It’s only a twenty minute walk. You can phone from there. If they’ll let you see him, then we can take my car. If they want you to wait till morning then you can crash at my place.”

Carolyn gave me a squeeze. She was surprisingly strong, “Thankss.”

We walked, side by side and just as friends. It seemed odd that less than a year ago we would have been holding hands, laughing and joking and just chatting like people in love do. Now it was more like it was on our first date; friendly, but talking about superficial things.

People would take one look at Carolyn and move quickly and politely out of the way, as though she were a persona non grata. They would glare at me, as though I was some kind of deviant for even being with her. Once or twice a woman would give her a smile and a nod. They were most likely plague victims too.

“I don’t know how you cope with it?” I said, after a couple had given us a particularly piercing stare.

“I don’t. Not really. I’ve built up defenses against it, but after a while it gets to me again. It doesn’t help,” Carolyn stopped short.

“That your husband freaks out when he sees you?” I added.

Carolyn nodded, “Yeah. I understand you need time and all that, but I need to know if there’s still a chance. For us?”

I shrugged, “I dunno. One thing at a time I guess. My place is only a few blocks away.” I said changing the subject. If she had come back a different looking woman I could’ve handled it.

“Pat, thanks for this,” Carolyn said, her greenish eyes glowed slightly in the streetlight.

“I could hardly leave you on the street could I? You need to see if Matthew’s ok too. My place isn’t much I know,” I said softly.

We walked and talked about nothing, nothing personal just about the weather, my songs and what I hoped to do.

We climbed up the stairs to my apartment, the elevator was broken again and eventually we were outside my door, “This is me,” I said gesturing to the grubby looking green door.

After unlocking the door we walked in. Suddenly I had an attack of the ‘guilts’. I’d left the place in a real state when I went out this evening.

“I see your domestic habits haven’t improved,” Carolyn said jokingly.

“I was in a rush. You want a coffee?”

“No thanks, can’t stand the stuff anymore. You got any milk?”

I glanced at Carolyn’s feline body, figures. I thought.

“Yeah, Somewhere. Warm or cold?”

“Warm please,” she said giving me a harsh look. She knew what I had been thinking.

“Phone’s on the wall, You want to give the hospital a call?” I said. Since we’d walked in the atmosphere had become strained and awkward.

Carolyn sighed, it was getting late. “I’d better.”

I poured her a glass of milk and stuck it in the microwave for forty seconds. “I’ll go clear my room. You can have my bed, I’ll take the sofa”

Carolyn, phone to her ear just nodded. I noticed that with her ears on top of her head now, using the phone looked a real pain. The mouthpiece didn’t reach when she had it to her ears and vice versa. Someone somewhere was going to make a fortune making phones for non humans.

I walked into my room, got out some clean bed sheets and quickly made the bed. I’d just finished when Carolyn walked in, “Matthew’s going to be ok. He’s got a concussion so he’s staying in overnight. He’ll be out in the morning and needs his rest so they’re not letting friends in. Good job I called first”

I breathed a sigh of relief, “I’m glad he’s ok. I bet the mugger’s will get more than they bargained for when they find out who they mugged!”

“Thanks for the Milk. It was just what I needed,” Carolyn’s reply sounded tired and half asleep, “I put the glass in the sink.”

“Thanks, The rooms all ready. It’s not as plush as the one we used to have, but it’ll do.”

Carolyn walked over to the bed and sat down, “Ow” she proclaimed.

“What’s up?”

“I sat on my tail all wrong. It really freaks people out more if I let it swish around so I shove it down my pants. After a few hours it gets cramp.”

So, I was right about the bulge. My wife has a tail! “uh ok,” I didn’t know what to say.

“You got any clean boxers?” Carolyn asked.

“Sure, Why?”

“I turn em round and use the fly hole to poke my tail out. Panties are useless.”

“Um ok, second drawer down on the left.” This was getting surreal.

Although we’d been married for years, something made me close the door.

A few minutes later Carolyn walked out of the bedroom wearing the same T shirt she had been, but a pair of my blue boxers. If she hadn’t had fur she’d have looked hot. “That’s better,” she said turning round to show me. Her tail was about 3 feet long, covered in the same black silky fur she was and seemed to have a life of its own.

“It took me ages to learn to control it. It’s not prehensile or anything, but now at least it goes where I want it to,” Carolyn said in a matter of fact way.

I glanced down at her feet. They had turned into a half foot, half paw shape. Her pumps had covered them up, I could see the outline of claws where her toes would have been. This was freaking me out.

Carolyn detected this. “It’s really bothering you isn’t it?”

I nodded, “Yeah, sorry. I know it shouldn’t. It must make you feel awful.”

Carolyn walked over to a spare armchair, grabbed hold of her tail placed it over the arm of the chair and sat down. “Ask anything you like.”

“Tell me about your changes? Did they hurt?” Carolyn knew me too well. She knew as well as being freaked I was as curious as hell.

“Some of them did. As I said I woke up one day and found that my jeans didn’t fit properly. I’d grown an inch overnight. It was then I knew I had the plague. I did exactly what I was supposed to do, I reported it right away. The only difference was, I didn’t tell you. I wrote the Dear John letter and went straight to a plague registration centre.”

“Then what?” I asked.

“They put me in a room, with a wash basin and bed. It wasn’t really a room, more like a cell. They monitored you as you changed, worked out what your Geas would be and gave you a classification and a number. It all felt as though I was some kind of animal being processed. My hair turned Jet black and I grew another two inches. My face changed shape into that of a normal woman, but every part of my skin itched and burned for over a day. Then one morning I woke up covered in fur. Naturally I screamed my head off in horror.”

Carolyn, closed her eyes, remembering the ordeal she’d gone thru, “The centre did their best to counsel me, but with hundreds coming in every day, the support they could give was minimal. When my face started changing I was in agony for over a day. It seemed as though every bone in my body was being reshaped. My muzzle grew almost hourly, and I could almost see the changes robbing me of my humanity.”

“That’s horrible!” Poor Carolyn, I had no idea it had been that bad.

“The worst thing was, when my face turned into this half human, half cat monstrosity. I’ve got used to it now, but every time I look into a mirror I scream at the creature I’ve become. You know what? I can’t even cry, I’ve the wrong kind of tear ducts, cat tear ducts!,” Carolyn looked away, this was hard on her.

“I thought that you’d got used to it?” I said. She had seemed so matter of fact about it.

“No,” Carloyn shook her head. Her eyes did look a little moist, I guess if she would have been able to she would have been crying, “It’s all an act. I thought that if I acted as though I’d got used to it, it’d make it easier on you to have me back.”

So that was it! “What about all this prophet stuff, the support of the other ‘non humans’ in the camp?”

“When we were in the camps it was fine. We did stick together there, we had to. Compared to some people I’d got off lightly. It’s the Naga’s and mermaids I felt most sorry for. When we were in the camp it was easy to think of ourselves as human. We were all the same boat. We all had hope that when we were let out, people would see us for who we were. Fat chance!”

“I see,” so the whole I’m half cat and its ok thing was just bravado.

“The prophet told us, it would be harder than we thought; that people would be prejudiced against us no matter what happened. She told us to hold fast to the people we loved, because in the end that’s all any of us have. She told us about the coming darkness and that humanity would turn to us for its salvation. In the camps, with nothing else to hold onto we believed it!”

“And now?” The bit about turning to loved ones stung!

Carolyn shrugged her shoulders, “I don’t know. What was it like out here, outside of the camps?”

“In some ways I guess it was harder. Every day you’d wake up and wonder if you had the plague, if today was going to be your last as who you were. Everything’s closed down, only a few people were willing to go out. Mostly people just got a bunker mentality. They’d cower in their houses, only going out for food when they had to. There’s been no new TV shows, very few new songs, and basically the whole of society has retreated into their homes. In some parts of the world it’s much worse. People with the plague were executed in order to try and stop its advance. Nobody knew how to deal with the problem.”

Carolyn nodded, “The prophet said that decay and fear would rule the world. I guess she was right.”

“That sounds about right,” I commented.

“What happened to our home?” Carolyn asked.

“I sold it, it barely covered what we owed on it. Property prices collapsed because nobody’s prepared to move house. Safer where you are and you know who’s got the plague and who hasn’t! I had to move away, too many memories of you there!” Fatigue was starting to set it, I checked my watch. Nearly 3am!

“Pat, I’m, I’m sorry,” Carolyn put her furry, semi pawlike hand on mine. It felt surprisingly warm and soft.

“It’s ok. What you did was probably for the best. We’ve both had it rough haven’t we?”

“Yeah,” Carolyn nodded.

“What are your plans, for the future? What next?” I asked

“That depends on you. My love for you kept me going in the camps. I tried to hide what I felt, tried to live day to day but often it was no good,” Carolyn paused for a few moments. She was thinking something over, “Do you still have the micro-floppy of the song we first danced to?”

“Yeah, I guess its somewhere here,” I said.

“Would you put it on for me. I need to hear it, “ Carolyn said sadly.

“Ok,” I stood up and rummaged around my ‘old music’ box. It took me ten minutes before I found a dusty Mini-CD. “Here it is.”

I inserted it into the music system, and pressed play “Close your eyes, “Carolyn suggested. I lay back on the sofa, and closed my eyes. Within moments the memories came flooding back.

"Mother doesn't know where love has gone,
she says it must be youth that keeps us feeling strong.
See it in her face that's turned to ice,
and when she smiles she shows the lines of sacrifice.
And now I know what they're saying as our sun begins to fade,
and we made our love on wasteland and through the barricades."

I remembered the feel of her, her face resting on my shoulder as we slow danced around the dance floor. I could almost smell her perfume again. The smell of her, the way she moved and danced with me all came alive again.

"Father made my history,
he fought for what he thought would set us somehow free.
They taught me what to say in school,
I learned it off by heart but now that's torn in two.
And now I know what they're saying in the music of the parade, and we made our love on wasteland and through the barricades. "

I drank in the memory of her, the way her body just seemed to wrap itself around me as we danced. Everyone else seemed to vanish in the room. It was as though we were the only people there. So many memories, so many good times..

“Born on different sides of life,
but we feel the same and feel all of this strife,
so come to me when I'm asleep and we'll cross the line and dance upon the streets.
And now I know what they're saying as the drums begin to fade, and we made our love on wasteland and through the barricades. “

I knew what Carolyn was trying to do, but it wasn’t until I heard the song that I realized how much I still loved her.

"Oh, turn around and I'll be there,
well there's a scar right through my heart but I'll bare it again.
Oh, I thought we were the human race but we were just another borderline case, and the stars reach down and tell us that there's always one escape.”

Oh, I don't know where love has gone,
and in this troubled land desperation keeps us strong.
Friday's child is full of soul, with nothing left to lose there's everything to go."

Still with my eyes closed, I gave a smile. It was this verse she must’ve been thinking of. She knows me so well! I found tears welling up in my eyes. I still loved her, no matter what happened I still loved her!

"And now I know what they're saying,
it's a terrible beauty we've made,
so we make our love on wasteland and through the barricades.
And now I know what they're saying as our hearts go to their graves, and we made our love on wasteland and through the barricades."

As the music drifted away I opened my tearful eyes, “Carolyn I’m so sorry. I love you, I never stopped...”

Carolyn gave me a smile, whiskers twitching, and showing her two canine teeth, “Me too. Pat, what can we do to fix this, fix us again?”

I felt like I had when I’d first seen her across the room. My heart felt as though it would explode unless I did something, anything. “We start again, one day at a time.”

Carolyn nodded. It was getting late and I could tell she was tired, “One day at a time it is.”

Curse + 820 days - Interlude.

In a small room in downtown Washington, Lucy lay on her bed and made the final preparations. Things had begun to settle down a little, even the xenophobic attacks had dropped off. The time was right for the next phase to begin. Soon every man, woman and child on the planet would know of her.

The thought pleased her greatly. She looked at her laptop screen once more, relishing what the encrypted email had said. The cargo was en route from Kazakhstan and would end up on a small Russian Trawler in the international waters just off Las Palma. It had taken a great deal of time, patience, persuasion and money to secure the cargo. But she had managed it. Within a hundred days it would all fall into place. Lucy reclined back in her chair, she’d give the world another ten days or so, then resume her campaign. She’d waited so long for this moment; a few days here or there wouldn’t matter one bit!

-- oo -- oo --

“The resiliency of the human sprit is one of the wonders of creation. Within a small matter of weeks, a world on the verge of social collapse turned around 180 degrees. A population living in fear and darkness now saw the break of day like the sun breaking through storm clouds. Loved ones returned, the camps were closed and day by day things returned to normal.

Of course some criminal aspects of society took advantage of the situation. Mugging a victim for their blood to use as a threat for money; jacking as it was known rose to almost epidemic proportions in some cities. Other forms of crime rose too, prostitution nearly doubled as those with that Gea struggled to find a legal outlet for their cravings. Naturally once this became known, the demand for hookers plummeted thus reducing the prostitution levels down to pre plague amounts.

However, the suicide rate for those affected tripled as they struggled to adapt to a life they were not born to. Those with Geas were most hard hit, with one in three suffering acute depression and nervous breakdowns. One in ten attempted suicide; one in fifteen succeeded.

Hardest hit of all were those transformed into non human form. Of this group no more than one in five managed to survive for longer than month before despair and suicidal tendencies overtook them. Special counseling services were rushed into being, and that helped to stem the tide. Even so, the non humans were pretty much outcasts everywhere they went; most went to their most suited environments, be it the ocean, forest or desert. There they started to form isolated communities, away from the staring and prejudiced eyes of a healing world.

Even so, hope soared among the population and it seemed that we were on the edge of a new golden age. However history has shown that golden ages are never easily won, achieved, or even manage to endure beyond the dreams of those that conceived them.”

Excerpts from “The long twilight struggle” By Prof Richard nee Jane Andrews, Chair Magic Studies, MIT. ISBN 3531235632

-- oo -- oo --

Curse +830 Days Maki's story - Plagued!

As soon as I woke up I knew something was wrong. My body didn’t feel right. My head ached like I’d drunk far too much Saki and I had trouble even opening my eyes.

When I eventually managed it I saw to my horror my whole body had changed. A huge bulge in the duvet was the first thing I saw. I tore off the bed covers with large, white flabby arms and screamed.

My entire body had been turned into a mass of fat, and stretched muscle. Folds of flesh billowed out of my nightdress. I tried to get out of bed, and it was a real struggle to stand upright. I must weigh at least 300 lbs! I started down at my chubby fat fingers and started to cry. Somehow I had caught the plague, but how? I’d not slept with anyone, been jacked, and I’d survived exposure to this prion thing the government said was the cause.

None of this mattered anymore, I was ugly, obese and I hated my life. Why me?

Curse +915 Days Christopher’s story - Parcels and preparations

I stood on the one of the jetties in the marina at La Palma listening to the clink click of the rigging on the yachts moored there. I felt the cooling breeze on my face and its tugging on my now long blonde hair made me feel even more relaxed. I’d been here a week or so now and I was loving every moment.

My breasts had now filled out to a respectable 36C, and the week before I left I’d had my first ever period. At long last I’m who I’m supposed to be. Part of me still misses the male me, but thanks to Lucy and some counseling by Elizabeth and her team that part of me no longer matters. Looking back on it I wonder how I could have been so worried and so wrong about it. Getting the plague is the best thing that has happened to me.

An encrypted message from Elizabeth came last night, it told me to hire a fishing boat and ask the crew to sail to just into international waters and to wait for a package to arrive. More instructions would follow when I was anchored and waiting. I wonder what’s so secret they can’t tell me what I’m supposed to pick up or even do with it.

Oh well, Lucy knows what she’s doing that’s for certain. She’s promised that we can be together properly after the job is done. The way she touched me was simply incredible, every nerve in my body screamed in orgasmic pleasure. If that’s what happens when she just touched me, I can’t imagine what it will be like when we are together properly.

Curse +830 Days Pat’s story - The Sum of all fears

Carolyn’s piercing scream shocked me awake. I felt all light headed and woozy and I knew immediately something was very wrong. The room looked blurry as if my eyes were tired, “What?” I asked and on hearing the dulcet female voice I knew what is was. Why me? Oh fuck,fuck,fuck!

Unbelieving and not wanting to even think about it I clutched my chest and felt the firm, fleshy mound of breast, ”No no!” I heard this strange woman say.

I put a slender hand to my face and felt smooth skin, strands of blonde hair brushed in front of my eyes and unthinking I brushed it away.

“I’m sorry,” Carolyn said, her voice trying to calm me.

Still in shock I pulled the sheets away from the bed, and looked down. My new breasts made two unmistakable shapes underneath my pajamas. My slender, delicate hand touched them again. Tingles ran thru my body, this was wrong, so wrong!

I knew what I would find as I ran my other hand underneath my PJ pants and the warm, most fleshy folds that greeted it confirmed my fate. “How?” the woman I had become asked.

I could see the shock on Carolyn’s catlike face, she had no more idea than me.

I felt vomit rise in my stomach and before I could move, I was violently sick. I jumped out of bed, ignoring the sensations of breasts moving on my chest. I immediately struggled to stand, my centre of gravity was all wrong. I could feel tears well up on my face. I knew I was in shock, but my body was overruling my brain.

Again I dared to look down and trying to drag my eyes away from my breasts, but failed. As if a hundred miles away I heard Carolyn say, “Pat, I don’t know how this happened. But I still love you,” the comforting tone of her voice made me feel a little better, but only a little.

“A mirror!” I just managed to demand and instantly Carolyn was out of the room to find one.

Still in a mixture of shock and horror I undid my pajama buttons and opened my top. Two smallish, but perfectly formed breasts jutted from my smooth curved body. The nipples on each breasts were small, but very feminine; the areola a slighter darker pink. How? Why?

Was I female all over? I had to know for sure, so ignoring the feeling of the unfamiliar weights on my chest I pulled down my pajama pants. The small mound of blonde pubic hair between wide, curvy hips showed beyond doubt that I was. Whatever my face now looked like, my body was stunningly beautiful. I looked down at long, slender legs tapering down to delicate feet, and my body was elegantly thin, and had the graceful look of a trained athlete or model.

Carolyn walked in, holding a small hand mirror. She still looked a little blurred until she came closer. She stared at my body and handed the mirror over without saying a word, she didn’t need to.

A delicately shaped face, with blue eyes started back at me from the mirror. Blonde hair tumbled over its face and onto the shoulders. I noticed a tickling sensation on my rounded shoulders as the face twisted in the mirror. Beyond doubt this blonde goddess in the mirror was now me. I noticed how her, my nose wasn’t too big or small and formed a perfect division between the eyes and the high cheek boned face. Full red lips underlined the natural beauty of the face and as I tilted the mirror down towards my shoulder blades my I noticed that my body seemed to flow into one curve after another. “I’m, I’m” I tried to say.

“Female? Beautiful?” Carolyn tried to finish my sentence.

“No,” the voice still sounded strange from my lips.

“Then what?” Carloyn asked, her concern showing.

“Afraid,” I admitted. I was. My whole world had been turned upside down and I was struggling to even think straight.

“I’m here. Look, we’re about the same height now, I’ll find some clothes for you and clear up the mess you made on the bed,” Whenever I was ill Carolyn had played mom and it never failed to make me feel better. This time however it didn’t even register.

Still in a daze I just managed to nod, before sitting down on the end of the bed. Every part of me felt odd, different and yes that was term I was looking for, violated. I’d been raped and my body taken away from me and forced into a new life that I didn’t want nor was my own.

Carolyn was obviously doing the thinking for both of us, “We need to report this right away. We didn’t break any of the rules, we’ve never made love, you didn’t get the plague when it was raging so it just doesn’t make sense. There are people who can help us, help you on the other end of the phone. They can help more than I can,” Carolyn’s voice managed to cut thru some of the confusion and shock I was still feeling.

“I guess,“ was all I managed to say.

“I’ll go get the phone. You stay here,“ the commanding tone of Carolyn’s voice managed to calm me a little.

I took a few deep breaths; it helped calm the rising panic that I was feeling. “Ok Pat, you’ve got the plague, “I heard myself speak out loud and it seemed to help a little.

Ignoring the shape my new legs made as I crossed them, I tried to think clearly and pragmatically. I was always told resolve the things you can change and don’t stress about the things you can’t. Glancing down at my breasts, gently heaving as I breathe this is obviously something I can’t; so I need to try and pull myself together and deal with it.

I reached down into my pajama pants once more, unbelieving and yet knowing what I’d find beneath that mass of blonde pubic hair. Another jolt of pleasure swept over me, as my finger found what I assumed to be my clitoris. I so wanted to do it again, and yet my revulsion and feelings of being violated and raped stopped me.

I had a vagina, A pussy, a cunt and nothing on earth could change that!

Carolyn walked in holding the phone, “I’ve dialed the number for you, but it’s engaged. There must be more victims than just you, “ She spotted my finger, still resting on my exposed pussy, “What’s it like?”

“I hate it. It’s, it’s not me. This, this body isn’t me!” I could feel tears forming in my eyes.

Carolyn lifted her tail up, sat down beside me and put a furry arm around my slender waist. “This isn’t me either,” she point to her feline face. You know what the prophet told me when I first came to the camp?”

I pulled my hand away from my pussy and did my pajama shirt up again, it still didn’t hide the shapes my breasts made in it though, ”What was that?”

“Let me see if I remember,” Carolyn pondered, “That’s it! She said, ‘It’s not what we are, it’s who we are. We are more than flesh and bone, more than breasts or pussy. We are still ourselves, no matter the flesh we may wear.”

I knew what Carolyn was saying, yet I didn’t feel it inside. I grabbed hold of a clump of my blonde hair, “What do you see? I don’t see Pat anymore. I see some woman, some stranger who’s forced their way into his life and taken it over!” I pointed to my breasts, “These are a symbol of that, a reminder every time I look down of my life I’ve lost.

Carolyn grabbed hold of my face and her green catlike eyes looked me in the face, “Do you think I enjoy having a tail? Do you think I like having fur cover every inch of my body? Or claws instead of toes? They remind ME of what I’ve lost. Pat, look beyond genitals and hair. Look into yourself, and realize that I love you. As far as I can see you got lucky, you look fantastic. You could have turned out like me, or a mermaid, or a centaur, or anything? But you didn’t! You lucked out.”

I gave my breast a squeeze, ignoring the sensations it bought, “You call this lucky? Lucky is not catching the plague at all!”

“But that’s something we can’t change, Why can’t I get thru on this line dammit,” Carolyn swore in frustration; not only at me, but the fact that the line had been engaged for the past 10 minutes.

I gave a sigh, a girlie sigh. I needed to think, to play my guitar, anything, “Carolyn!”

“Yeah,” she replied, her voice back to its normal placating self.

“I need my guitar, I need to play,” it would be a way of exorcising my frustration.

She nodded, “Sure,” and after passing me the phone, left the room to go and get it for me.

I held the phone to my ear and listened. The beep of the engaged tone was the only sound from the phone, we weren’t even in a queue yet. What the hell was going on?

“Still engaged,” I replied as Carolyn walked in holding my guitar.

“Still?” Her whiskers twitched in surprise.

I took my guitar from Carolyn and placed it on my new legs, my breasts pushed against its back and it felt decidedly odd. I tried a few cords, but it sounded all wrong. I tried again, and this time managed to get something out of it, but it wasn’t right. It was more mechanical than inspired. Music came from the soul, and all I can manage is a few basic strums. I tried to sing, but my new voice sounded flat and out of tune. Frustration welled up inside me. Not only had my life been taken away, but my one outlet I’d had to take me away from the dark times had been denied me too.

“Fuck it!” I swore and flung the guitar across the room in frustration.

“Pat, you’ll be able to relearn it,” Carolyn said soothingly.

“No I won’t!” fresh tears formed in my eyes, “It’s just not there! It’s not about technique or vocals, but the thing that was in me, that caused me to invent songs, to play from my very soul has gone. Everything’s gone Carolyn, Everything! And why the fuck can’t I see properly anymore!” I walked to the window, tears rolling down my face.

Carolyn walked over to me and put her furry arm around my waist and pulled me close to her, she looked as though she was going to kiss me.

“Carolyn don’t,” I said tearfully.

“All I want is a kiss, a kiss to show that no matter what you look like I still love you.”

Inside my heart was breaking, “I can’t Carolyn. It, it just doesn’t feel right. Isn’t this odd for you?”

Carolyn nodded, “Of course it is, but I’ve gone thru it too remember. It’s not as though we could have made love or been intimate before you got the plague is it?”

Anger welled up inside me. “Sex? You’re thinking about sex and intimacy? Yeah right that’s it! I’ll jump into bed with you, sure why not what’s a bit of bestiality now I’m a woman with the plague right?”

“You BASSSTARD! Is that how you still see me? As an animal? So you fucking me is just the same as having some horses cock inside you is it? Well fuck you!” Carolyn stormed off slamming the door behind her.

What had I said? What had I done? I loved Carolyn so what in hell had made me say that to her? Ignoring the feelings of my breasts moving as I flopped down on the bed I buried the pillow into my face and sobbed.

I don’t know how long I’d been crying but I did hear Carolyn open the door, “Pat. You ought to hear this!” Her voice was deadly serious.

“Carolyn, I’m, I’m sorry,” I managed to utter.

“We’ll talk later. Come now, this is important.”

I got off out of the bed, and walked until the lounge where CNN was playing. “Hey that’s Matthew!” I pointed out

“Shh,” Carolyn said lifting her tail up and sitting down.

I sat down next to her, feeling the decidedly frosty vibes coming from her. Why in fuck did I liken any sex with her as bestiality?

“This is Matthew Robinson of CNN. News has been coming in from around the world that the plague has returned with renewed ferocity.”

“Shit!” Carolyn swore.

“This morning hundreds of thousands of people woke up affected by it, and first reports indicate that very, very few of them had violated the rules laid down by the FDA and FEMA only a few weeks ago. It seems as though the plague has mutated or that all the causative factors were not identified. The result is the same, in spite of our best efforts the plague has returned.”

“Oh my God, the Camps!” Carolyn exclaimed.

As if confirming fears Matthew spoke “People who have contracted the plague either in the past or today are urged to stay in their homes, and contact your nearest plague control centre. For your own safety and the protection of others stay indoors and to not attempt to run or hide. The president has issued an immediate resumption in plague control protocols, effective as of 9am this morning.”

“I’m not going back!” Carolyn’s voice started to waver.

“I, I don’t understand. They said they knew what caused it, how it was caused. How?” I fingered my blonde hair, as Matthew said they either didn’t get all of the elements or the plague has mutated. I felt Carolyn’s ‘hand/paw’ on my leg, she was scared and needed me. All thoughts of the fight we’d just had were swept aside. She needed me.

My attention turned back to the TV. Matthew was still speaking, “and there have been more attacks against plague victims all around the US today. In New Jersey two women were killed when a gang attacked them for being outside and reportedly ‘spreading the plague’.”

Carolyn’s face was fixated on the TV, “Pat we can’t go back there. It was like hell!”

“Just to repeat today’s main news headlines. The plague has returned with new ferocity. Not since it first hit just over two years ago has so many people been affected by it.

The president has re-instated the plague control protocols from 9am this morning. All people who have the plague are to contact their local control plague control centers and wait in their homes for further instructions. Do not go out of your homes, stay indoors. Not only will this protect others, but you will protect yourself. The president has confirmed that work will commence on rebuilding the camps so that they can be reoccupied and the people in them assisted in whatever way is appropriate. More instructions will follow after this broadcast.”

Carolyn had, had enough, and switched the TV off, “Pat we have to leave. If we go now, maybe we can make it to the mountains or somewhere out of the way. I’m not going back!”

“Carolyn, If we run, if we hide then they’ll catch us. It’s not as though you can blend in is it?” My concern for Carolyn had tempered the odd sensations I was still feeling, the worry in her voice had removed the sting from the fight we’d just had.

“You can go in then, you see what its like!” Carolyn spat.

“Not without you. Carolyn I need you here, with me. We can’t run. Everyone who runs is caught eventually. The whole world has just gone to hell and at the moment we’re about as unpopular as it gets. Nobody will shelter us, everybody will be after our blood and the reward money they’re sure to put up for any runners. They have you on file, they’ll know your missing. Carolyn, we have to face this and face it together! Now what do we really need if we’re going to give ourselves up.”

My pragmatic talk managed to shake Carolyn out of her train of thought, “They let you take two suitcases each and that’s it. Only clothes, no weapons or stuff like that. They give you a list when you call them.”

“Clothes? No clothes will fit me now!” I complained. The only clothes I could use would be my male ones, and I wouldn’t be needing those for a while, “What happens if you have none?”

“They give you overalls, basic clothing etc when you get to the camp. It horrible stuff, lasts forever but you look and feel like a POW. Pat you’re going to need to go out and buy as many clothes as you can, and soon. I suspect they’ll start sending people round to collect the plague victims they know about.”

“But the president said to stay indoors,” I hated the thought of either being a target, or infecting someone else. I hated the thought of even wearing women’s clothes. I was a man, Fuckit!.

Carolyn saw thru to what I was really meaning, “Look, at the moment nobody knows you have the plague, this is our last chance to go and get things that will be useful later on. These things will be currency in the camps, they’ll make our lives a hell of a lot easier. The plague is already out there, one trip to the mall won’t make any difference. I can’t go, you will have to. Like it or not you are a woman now. You’ll find walking around with no bra very uncomfortable. Pat you’re not a man anymore, face it; we have little time.”

I sighed, “OK what do I do and what do I need?”

“We’ll write a list, but first we need to see what sizes you need. Wait here,” Carolyn stood up and walked into the kitchen to look for a tape measure.

Now it was my turn to face facts, I was a woman and life in the camps would be very different to here. Carolyn’s experiences had been enough to make her want to run. Carolyn walked in holding the tape measure, “Stand up!” She demanded.

Reluctantly I stood up, feeling a little foolish.

“Hmm thought so,” she said after measuring my height.

“What?”

“A clean Amazonian 6ft,” she commented.

6ft? no wonder it felt odd walking, I’d gained two inches!

“Lift your arms up, I need to measure your bust,”

“I know my size, too fucking big!” I complained.

I felt the tape measure stretch around my breasts, it felt odd but not unpleasant.

“34, and guessing about their shape I reckon about a C cup” Carolyn said.

“34C It could’ve been worse.”

“Waist,” Carolyn said and reached around my slender waist, “Thought so. 24, now for hip size.”

I felt the tape measure go around the outside of my shapely hips, “34 again, Perfectly proportioned.”

“Yeah right, 34-24-34 I didn’t need those vital statistics to tell me what I now was.”

“Now, I’ll go look in my room. There may well be something in there you can wear that won’t make you totally out of place. Remember the authorities will be on the look out for plague victims planning to run away. You need to project the image of a girl about town casually going shopping.”

My heart sank, I didn’t walk like a woman let alone ooze confidence as though I’ve been one all my life. I hated having to do this!

Carolyn walked out of the room and I heard lots of rummaging around. A few minutes later she came out with a purple blouse, and blue jeans and a pair of her sneakers, “Put these on!” Carolyn demanded.

Gingerly I undid my pajama shirt, and took it off. Bending down to pick the blouse up I couldn’t help but notice how my breasts hung down, and how their weight was pulling me slightly forwards. I swiftly put the blouse on, thankful to at least hide my tits away.

I stripped off my pajama pants, and trying as much as I could to ignore what lay beyond the triangular patch of blonde hair. My eyes then walked their way down from my curved hips to my long slender legs. Carolyn was right, I was stunningly beautiful and yet I was somehow repulsed by what I saw. I’m sure some men in my position would have lied on the bed and masturbated themselves until they had multiple orgasms. Not me, the sight of me just makes me cringe.

Carolyn threw me some of my boxers “Here’s some of your boxers. I don’t need panties, but you’ll need something on underneath.”

That’s all I need, a reminder of who I was, and what I’m now missing. Hurriedly I put them on, noting that some tufts of blonde thatch still poked out of the fly. I hate this! I quickly put the jeans on and did them up, glad to hide the woman that I was away.

“Your sneakers are a little large,” I complained to Carolyn.

“Yeah I know. It’s what comes for having paws for feet. Do they feel ok?”

“I guess so?” I stood up, “How do I look?”

“Scruffy as hell. I’ll comb your hair. No woman ever goes out without brushing her hair,” Carolyn darted off to get a comb.

I stood up and stared at my reflection in the glass. A woman with tumbling blonde hair, dressed casually in a blouse and jeans stood in front of me. Her breasts were neither too small or too big, and the curves of her body, hips and ass gently led into long athletic looking legs. This woman was me.

Carolyn returned, “Sit down and let me do this. You’ll have to learn eventually, but for now I’ll do it.”

I obediently sat down on the sofa, and felt the comb run thru my hair. I hadn’t realized it was quite so long, or so knotted, “OW!” I complained.

“Keep still! It’ll be quicker,” Carolyn ordered.

This was so humiliating!

What seemed like an age Carolyn pronounced me done and handed me a mirror. Again, my strange face looked back at me, but the hair seemed to fall gracefully and naturally past my shoulders. My full lips and high cheek bones set off an elegant nose and two deep blue eyes looked back at me showing every bit of confusion, sorrow and worry I felt. I gave a sigh, in my new girlie voice. “Best get this over with!”

Carolyn nodded. “I’ve got some paper and a pen over here. You’ll have to write it down because claws aren’t very good for writing,” She gestured with her clawed hand. Carolyn got up and passed me a pen and paper.

I tried to write a few words, but somehow this body couldn’t write like I used to. I put it down to my brain not properly matching to my fine motor control yet. “Ok, fire away!”

Carolyn dictated, “Right, most important. Pay cash, go to several shops to get the same stuff. If you go and buy out the store then you’ll arouse suspicion.”

Common sense really, “Makes sense. Next?”

“I think I know why you can’t see very well. There was a guy at the camp, who had twenty, twenty vision before he got the plague, and somehow it made him near sighted. Go into one of those while you wait specs shops and get your eyes tested.”

It was so obvious now Carolyn said it. My blurred vision had nothing to do with the way I felt, my hair or anything else. The stupid fucking plague had made me near sighted. “Fucking plague," I swore!

Carolyn ignored my swearing and continued. “You need to buy at least a hundred, or as many as will fit into a suitcase, tampons.”

”Why?” I knew I may well have periods soon, but that many?

“Think about it. We’ll be going to a camp full of fertile women. The authorities do provide sanitary towels, but they are horrid to wear. Ones you buy here are far better and they’ll be worth their weight in gold a few months down the line. People used to trade a weeks worth of luxury rations just for one ST. We can’t have too many!”

Wow Carolyn’s really thought about this.

Carolyn caught my look, ”Look, I was in there for months. I know what it was like and what worked and what didn’t. This just isn’t about packing to survive; it’s about packing to live!”

She had a point, “Next?”

“You’ll need at least ten bra’s size 34C. Twenty pairs of silk panties for you and fifty of mixed sizes.”

“Mixed to sell right?”

Carolyn smiled, I was catching on.

Carolyn got right back to business. She was clearly in her element, “Now, Forget about fancy skirts, blouses, shoes and pants. Buy denim, Chino’s anything that is durable. It’s not about style, it’s about living.”

This was the bit I was most comfortable with, nothing too feminine. “Anything else?”

“Yeah, garter belts, lingerie of all shapes and sizes. Again we can use it to trade for what we don’t have. The only stuff we’re allowed to take is clothing and personal effects so we can’t buy knives, jewelry, cigarettes or vibrators.”

The thought of shoving anything inside my cunt was enough to make me squirm. Carolyn smiled, she was pulling my leg.

“Remember, the basic’s we’re given, so who has the most luxuries is the richest person there.”

“Is that everything?” I asked.

“Think so. Remember, you’ve always been a woman, you have no idea as to what’s just gone on, only that you’re going on a camping trip next month.”

I stood up and pocketed the list, “Ok got it.”

“You better go, we haven’t got much time.”

I walked out of the door, feeling very nervous and self conscious. I guess this was my coming out party.

Curse + 915 Days 21:20 Christopher’s story - Delivery

I discovered early on that my new body hated boats, or more precisely the sea. Every small pitch of the boat sent me scrambling for the side of the boat. The crew looked on in vague amusement. I just felt embarrassed.

I’d been on this damned boat for over two hours, and it seemed like two days. If Lucy hadn’t asked me to go I would never have gone. She trusts me to do the job, and when it comes down to it that’s enough for me.

I decided to go below deck and see if that made my stomach any less queasy. It didn’t.

Somehow I must have managed to fall asleep, because I was shaken awake an indeterminate time later. Groggily I walked onto the sunlit deck and saw that we’d already tied up alongside another vessel. It looked in worse repair than ours, rust covered most of the exposed metal and more surprisingly it was flying the Russian flag.

A tall, man dressed in fisherman’s overalls gave me an appreciative glance and held out his hand, “Olaf” a thickly accented voice said.

“Christine,” I replied, using my female name.

“The fates have been kind to us,” Olaf stated.

He’d used his part of the code phrase now it was my turn, “We all live and die by the strands they guard.”

Olaf smiled, “Very true. Come let me show you what I’ve bought for you. ”

Olaf called out in what sounded a little like Russian, and within a few moments a large heavy looking briefcase was winched carefully over from his ship.

“Best not drop it huh,” Olaf smiled.

“Yeah,” I said, although I had no idea what was in the case.

While I was waiting for the case to be winched over, Olaf handed me a sat-phone, “Here this is for you. You are to wait for a call on what to do next.”

“Ok, “ I said and took the phone from Olaf. Wow! the phone was Russian military issue. I clipped the phone to my belt and watched as the case was laid carefully on the deck in front of me. It was like no suitcase I’d ever seen. The casing looked like metal, and it had an almost military look about it. The single handle had no place to retract to and the bottom had no wheels to run on.

“Your boss has already paid in advance. Please do not attempt to open it, it is booby trapped,” Olaf warned.

Curiosity got the better of me, “What’s inside?” I asked

“It’s best you don’t know,” Olaf stated. Obviously something Lucy wanted kept secret. I trust her; she’d tell me if I needed to know. When I was a man, seemingly years ago now, being left out like this would have really bugged me. Now I didn’t mind at all.

Olaf looked surprised I didn’t query his reply. “I have done my duty, now its time for us to leave. The longer we stay here, the more chance we have of discovery, “He reached out a broad, tanned and muscular hand.

I shook it, and watched as Olaf boarded his ship. The rocking of the boat as Olaf’s fishing boat was untied made me feel queasy again.

I saw Olaf make a call on the bridge of his boat and a few seconds later my sat phone called, unclipping it from my belt I answered, “Hello?”

“Christopher?” It was Lucy’s voice. Crackly and distorted but unmistakably hers. Even thru the distortion it turned me on. In a few days time Lucy would be mine in the same way as I was already hers!

“Yeah? I been given a suitcase what do you want done with it?”

“Go back to La Palma.”

“Ok, and then?” Sounded easy enough.

“At the GPS coordinates I’ve sent to your sat phone you’ll find a small, old magma tunnel just larger than the suitcase. Push the suitcase down as far as you can and gently throw some small rocks after it to cover it up from view.”

Huh? I didn’t get it, “Say again?”

“Take a trip to the Cumbre Vieja crater, push the suitcase into a deep solidified magma tunnel in it at the coordinates I’ve sent to you. When you’ve done gently throw some rocks and any loose stuff you can find down. It’ll cover the suitcase up, in the unlikely event anyone looks down it.”

“What’s in it?” Why did Lucy want to get rid of the suitcase so badly, why not just throw it in the sea?

Lucy’s voice crackled thru the phone, “It’s contents contains documents that I don’t want found until a certain time. I’ll send someone else to dig down and get them, when I need them.”

“Ok, then what do I do?”

“Have a nice vacation, I’ll see you back in a few days,” There was click and the phone went dead.

Well that sounded easy enough, now all I had to do was endure the boat trip back. With a little luck I’d be able to get the case hidden by tomorrow afternoon. Then when it was done, I’d concentrate on getting that all over tan that Lucy said she’d enjoy so much.

Curse +830 11:00 Days - Pats’s story - Resupply.

I struggled up the steps with my two suitcases full of shopping, I was substantially weaker in my new body and it was a real effort to drag them to my door. I rang the doorbell and heard Carolyn’s voice call out “yeah?”

“Open up, it’s Pat!” My voice still sounds distinctly odd.

“Thank God you’ve been ages!” Carolyn said opening up the door.

I walked in feeling utterly exhausted. I ached all over.

“Like the glasses, they make you look intelligent yet sexy.”

I still felt self conscious about wearing them, ”I’ll settle for intelligent,” I muttered.

“How’d it go?” Carolyn asked excitedly.

I gave a womanly sigh, “I never want to go shopping again. I hated it. The streets were empty, everyone had fled inside I guess. I stuck out like a sore thumb but I managed to carry it off. First port of call was Empirevison, you were right. I’m now near sighted. I hope these suit?” I pointed at my wire framed Gucci glasses.

“They do. Did you get everything on the list?”

I nodded, “Yeah, then I went clothes shopping. How do you put up with bras? I feel so constrained, and they, they make my tits feel much more obvious than they were,” I gestured at the shape my breasts made in my blouse.

“You did try everything on?” Carolyn asked concerned, she knew how I usually went clothes shopping. If it said the right size on the label I threw it in the basket.

I nodded glumly, “Yes and I hated every minute of it. I should find this body as sexy as anything yet all I see is someone other than me. I hate bras the most, I can’t stand the sight of my tits. They just remind me with every move I make who I was and what I’ve become. I did put on some silk panties though, you’re right they do feel much better than nylon.”

“Told you, silk panties fetched a premium in the camps. Now you know why. You look tired,” Carolyn commented.

“I am. Tired and sad. As I walked around the almost empty streets I realized that this was probably the last time I’ll ever see New York. The last time I’ll walk in central park, the last time I’ll see the twin towers memorial gardens; The last time for so many things. I feel like the condemned man, eating his last meal. Tomorrow we go off to my execution. Except of course that I’m already dead, in my place is a woman that was never meant to exist.”

“Pat, you’re not dead! Don’t be so stupid! You’ve lost your way, lost your sense of self. It happens to all of us, it happened to me. Give it time,” Carolyn put her hand on my leg to comfort me.

I pointed at my face, ”See this face? It isn’t me? See these tits, not mine! See the gap where my pussy is? Should be a dick there! The final nail in my coffin is the fact I can’t sing or play anymore. It’s robbed me of my final refuge. I’m wandering in the wilderness; my path is so vague and uncertain. What do I do? I feel like running and yet that feels so much like the wrong thing to do.”

Carolyn looked at me, her green feline eyes staring into my soul. “Pat, “ she took a deep breath, “Do we make the call?”

“I thought you were the one wanting to run?” I asked.

Carolyn’s whiskers twitched, “I was, but you’re right. We’re not cut out to be fugitives, and besides, whatever the future holds we’ll face it together!”

“So we make the call?” I asked. Phoning the centre would mean that within a matter of hours we’d be on a coach on our way to the plague control centre.

“As long as you promise me one thing?” Carolyn said quietly.

“Which is?” I asked.

“Never, leave me as I left you. “

I put Carolyn’s warm furry hand on my breast, “Promise.”

Carolyn smiled, showing her sharp canine teeth, “I’ll go get the phone.”

-- oo -- oo --

The return of the plague was a shattering hammer blow to the entire world. Within minutes of news of its resurgence breaking the streets became deserted and people fled back to their homes. Fear gave way to Anger, and Anger gave way to violence.

Hundreds of thousands were changed overnight, and a system that had been largely dismantled had to cope with more than it had ever been designed to. The result was chaos. People were fearful of going back or into the camps and as such ran for their lives. Those who ran were hunted by the legions of bounty hunters that sprung up; each eager for the rewards bringing in a runner would reap.

Many people were killed by their neighbors, friends and even families because of the fear of spreading the plague. Plague victims were stoned, beaten up and even burned to death as whole communities sought to purge themselves of what they saw as the carriers of the disease.

The plague control centers became over run as they tried to deal with the seemingly endless tide of victims. The normal processes that had worked during the plagues first strike had to be discarded, and replaced by a less personal system. Eventually they just gave up and bundled people back onto their coaches and sent them to the nearest camp.

Chaos doesn’t even start to describe the plague’s second strike around the world. The fragile twine that holds civilization together had started to unravel, maybe forever.

Excerpts from “The long twilight struggle” By Prof Richard nee Jane Andrews, Chair Magic Studies, MIT. ISBN 3531235632

-- oo -- oo --

Curse +831 Days Maki’s story - The Centre

My gross new body filled nearly three seats of the coach taking us to the regional plague control centre. The bus is packed with people, every face showing despair, fear and puzzlement. I just feel betrayed.

They said they knew what the cause was, they said if we obeyed a few simple rules it was controllable, they said that it was ok now; they lied.

I saw a tall supermodel thin woman, with long platinum blonde hair holding hands with a slightly smaller half cat, half woman creature. ‘Supermodel’s’ glasses didn’t quite fit properly and thru them I could see in her eyes that she was thinking the same as me. Betrayal, loss and grief over a life lost. Our eyes connected for a second and then she looked away, as if in shame.

All around the bus people looked blankly ahead, as if in a mixture of shock, denial and resignation. I caught my gross reflection in the window, a plump faces curly redhead with fat cheeks and flabby neck.

Curse +831 Days 19:00 The Directors story - Executive orders.

I switched on the TV to listen to the President's broadcast. I still couldn’t believe what he was about to say, but here, in my hands was the final draft. We’d spent days arguing for and against the measures about to be introduced; but in the end nobody could think of a better way. Predictably enough, it was Lucy’s suggestion that swayed the vote so a decision could be reached. She as so much sway over weak minded men! I hated voting for it, hated it with every part of my being; but in the end I was powerless against it. I guess that was the beauty of democracy, logic always outweighs morality.

There was a knock at the door, and Lucy walked in. She was dressed like I felt, all in black. It was as though she was going to a funeral and in a way she was. The funeral of all I had worked for all these years, the funeral of democracy in the United States of America.

“Has it started?” She asked.

“Not, yet,” I replied solemnly

Lucy pulled up a chair beside me. Even though she was dressed all in black, part of me sensed her amusement at the whole thing. Her manner over the past few days was like a small child who’d kicked over an ants nest and was now watching with glee as the ants ran around in chaos.

The screen faded into the seal of president of the United States. A few seconds later the president appeared behind his desk in the Oval office.

“Ladies and gentlemen, citizens of the United States, I am here today to address and discuss the issues of national peril we now face together.”

He paused for a few moments, “As you know a few days ago, the plague returned with avengence. Never since it first hit has so many people been affected by it or by its affect on families. Our best scientific information has proven to be false, the prion we thought was responsible for it now appears to be only a small factor in its spread and effects.”

Another pause, I glanced down at the sheets of paper I held in my hand. Why didn’t I speak out when I could have! I was afraid that’s why! Too late, here it comes.

“Therefore in order to protect the population of the country and indeed the world I have actioned Executive Order 11490, and its related EO’s. These have been on the statute books for many years, and have until now not been necessary to bring into play. The events of a few nights ago changed all that, and now we as a nation and as a global population must take extreme measures in order to contain this contagion which threatens our very existence as a species and as a civilization. The fact that the plague has once again hit with such ferocity means that, in spite of all our best efforts it has not been contained. It is now a crisis of the deepest magnitude, and leaves me no choice but to follow the course of action I am outlining below. We failed the first time to prevent its spread. We must not, we will not fail again!”

The president shuffled his papers and took a deep breath. “I will read out the relevant order and how it will affect you. Executive Order 10990 allows the government to take over all modes of transportation and control of highways and seaports. In order to prevent the spread of the plague across state and international boundaries special permits will be required for interstate and international travel. Before such permits are issued you will have to undergo a blood test, to test for the presence of the prion. These permits will need to be renewed on a weekly basis.

You may remember that during the first outbreak this order was activated for a pre-defined period while, while the infrastructure required to deal with the plague was established. However unlike that time, this activation of the order has no expiry date and comes into force from midnight tonight. We have to stop its spread at all costs.“

The president had got the least controversial one out of the way. This was the executive order he’d used when the plague first hit. “In order to prevent the spread of misinformation, propaganda and general panic I am activating Executive Order 10995 which allows the government to seize and control the communication media. From midnight tonight, any news broadcast about US internal affairs will be subject to prior clearance from the state department. Failure to obtain clearance for such bulletins will be treated as an act of treason. I realize that this seems to be an extreme measure, and indeed it is. However, I will not allow speculation, misinformation and seditious talk to be spread to the general population and so spread panic and fear to all who listens to such propaganda.”

“That’s CNN out of business,” Lucy quipped. I didn’t smile back. This stuff was making me feel ill. But, there was no other way.

“In order to enforce the other executive orders I have mentioned, Executive Order 10997 allows the government to take over all electrical power, gas, petroleum, fuels and minerals. Therefore from midnight tomorrow all gasoline, petroleum, fuels and power stations will be under government control. You will be issued with vouchers that will enable you to travel as normal, subject to executive order 10990.”

The president continued, “To prevent hoarding of food supplies and panic buying I am also activating Executive Order 10998 which allows the government to take over all food resources and farms. Initially there will be no change, however all farms and food processing plants will be required to audit their stock levels on a weekly basis. This will come into force in seven days time.“

How could it have come to this? I wondered to myself. Things were bad when the plague first hit, but this goes way beyond bad. This is necessity.

“The people who are in the camps are desperately short of the essentials for life. We need to rectify this as soon as possible. Therefore I am enabling Executive Order 11000 allows the government to mobilize civilians into work brigades under government supervision. All citizens will be eligible for this draft, and we will start issuing draft documents to those randomly selected from tomorrow. Failure to obey the draft carries the normal penalty for draft dodgers, imprisonment under circumstances far worse than that of the lowliest detainee in the reservations..”

The president paused for a few moments, I see the strain he was under and it told in every line in his face. Here was a man, forced to take unpalatable decisions driven by uncontrollable events.

The president continued, “As per the plague control Exec order 80121 I’m activating Executive Order 11001. This allows the government to take over all health, education and welfare functions. This is required to control and contain the outbreaks of the plague around the country and to ensure that those who have the plague are identified and treated before they can spread the contagion.”

“Now it gets real bad, “ I whispered.

"And yet it doesn’t.” She replied cryptically. What in hell was going on! The feelings of being out of control started to rise up inside me. Lucy saw my discomfort, “Don’t worry! Not long to wait now.”

This had already gone on too long, but I was trapped. I had to do as I was asked, no as I was told. Otherwise everything would go straight to hell.

The president finished his pause, and faced the camera, “So that we can spot those plague victims who choose to run, and so endanger us all I am activating Executive Order 11002. This empowers the Postmaster General to operate a national registration of all persons. Tomorrow morning all your family are required to stand outside of your place of residence and register with the post office. Failure to do so within seven days will result in prosecution and imprisonment. We need This ho has got the plague and who is running away. There is no other way to ensure people are who they say they are.

Further to EO 10990, Executive Orr 11003 allows the government to take over all airports and aircraft, including commercial aircraft. This will be in force from midnight tonight. We must stop the plague and a total lock down of all land, sea and air routes is the only way to stop this.

Executive Order 11004 allows the Housing and Finance Authority to relocate communities, build new housing with public funds, designate areas to be abandoned, and establish new locations for populations. Should an area become so infected with the plague, we need to move the entire population this gives us the legal right to do so. It also facilitates the building of more camps should the need arise for us to do so.”

“Look’s like we’re still needed,” Lucy quipped.

“Why did I think I wasn’t going to get away from all this that easily,” I said bitterly. The president continued his announcement

“We also need to keep our options open, Executive Order 11051 allows us to do so. It specifies the responsibility of the Office of Emergency Planning and gives authorization to put all Executive Orders into effect in times of increased international tensions and economic or financial crisis. We need to ensure that everybody complies with these precautionary Executive Orders. EO 11310 grants authority to the Department of Justice to enforce the plans set out in these executive Orders, to institute industrial support, to establish judicial and legislative liaison, to control all aliens, to operate penal and correctional institutions, and to advise and assist the President.”

The president paused for what seemed an age, put down his papers and faced the camera, “Ladies and gentlemen I know what you have heard seems like the end of everything we hold dear, that the sacrifice of so many of our forefathers was for nothing.

If we stand by and let this plague take us all, if we stand by and let all that we hold dear be destroyed by this... this curse on our land then the sacrifices of our ancestors will really and truly have been in vain. I promise you, that I will rescind these orders as soon as the crisis is over, and it will end. You may remember the subsets of the restrictions placed on us all when the Plague first hit. But the so called ‘martial law’ was not so. It’s clear from the last few days events that the measures we initially put in place did not go far enough. Therefore, by bringing these orders in effect, we ensure that its progress is slowed, that those affected can be quickly identified and sent to a camp for proper treatment and counseling. By introducing these measures now, we hasten the time when these measures are no longer needed.

I know this will be hard for you, it will be hard for all of us; but we cannot lose sight of the goal. To rid the world of this plague that little by little is destroying our lives, the lives of our families and the fabric of our civilization. I ask you to follow the lead of those who came before us, stand with me against this evil. If we preserve thru these trials, we will yet prevail.

Thank you for your time and God bless and save us all.”

The seal of the president of the United States appeared on screen and the TV screen was blank for a few moments. Obviously the TV station was wondering how to follow that up.

Lucy gave me a sideways smile, just as I thought. Like a kid who was loving all the ants scurry round. I just hoped to God we could keep things together. If we couldn’t we’d have a civil war to deal with as well as the plague.

-- oo -- oo --

“Howard J. Ruff wrote.

"Since the enactment of Executive Order 11490, the only thing standing between us and dictatorship is the good character of the President, and the lack of a crisis severe enough that the public would stand still for it."

The return of the plague was just that crisis. History tells us, that there is always a worse crisis than the current one, and what is our opinion against the force of history.

The reality was that there were holes in the execution of these orders. People slipped thru the net, they always do. It was the combination of martial law and the holes in the system that gave rise to several massacres around the country. Militia groups sprang up from nowhere, and swore to defend democracy and the constitution against a totalitarian state. Poorly armed, but dedicated to their cause they fought long and hard. Their terrorist actions against state and federal resources only resulted in more extreme responses from an already beleaguered government. Running battles against the national guard and army were fought over several weeks, with the militia groups hiding in mountainous and urban areas and operating a guerrilla war against the government that had allowed them to grow and equip.

Hundreds were killed in these skirmishes, men women and children gave their lives to protect what they saw as the defeat of freedom. The stark reality was that freedom was already dead, within a matter of months the entire planet would be on a war footing and very few people would then disagree with the measures taken. Democracy, was a luxury mankind could no longer afford.”

Excerpts from “The long twilight struggle” By Prof Richard nee Jane Andrews, Chair Magic Studies, MIT. ISBN 3531235632

-- oo -- oo --

Curse +831 Days 07:22 Pat’s story - Down the Drain

I stood on the bus to the centre, holding Carolyn’s hand for comfort. This body still felt strange, foreign, and every breath I took added to my sense of violation. I should feel lucky that I didn’t end up like Carolyn or that horrifically obese woman sitting to my right; but that’s of no comfort.

We were lied to, dammit! They didn’t know what causes the plague at all! Letting the people out of the camps was just to take the heat out of the situation. Now they can throw us back in those hell holes and throw away the key and nobody can protest about it.

Carolyn is distraught about going back in she wanted to run but the last thing I wanted to do was become a fugitive. The only place we could have gone was some godforsaken place in the middle of nowhere.

I just stood staring out of the window, ignoring how the bumps in the road made my new breasts bounce a little, and I spent the time trying to draw some good from the situation. The only upside I could now see was that at least Carolyn and I were together.

Seemingly hours later the bus stopped outside of what looked to be a converted hospital. “This is where I went. It’ll be ok,” Carolyn gave my hand a squeeze as if to say ‘We’re in this together.’

What I assumed to be the drivers voice told us to stay in the bus until called, so I guess there was nothing to do but wait. Luckily the aircon in the bus worked as it should, so at least we were cool. I looked around, everyone’s face was a mask. Lips were tight and eyes blank, this was it, our first port of call on our trip down the drain.

“I guess they’ll just ship me right out,” Carolyn commented.

“Guess so,” I adjusted my glasses. They still felt a little odd on the end of my nose. Carolyn was probably right, they’d pass her right thru and straight into a camp.

It seemed an age until my name was called, Carolyn gave me a quick hug and I slowly walked outside into the bright morning sunshine.

Two burly women were waiting for me, their side arms drawn and ready. I guess they didn’t want anyone running away. I was escorted, just like some kind of POW inside the main foyer of the building. People of all shapes and sizes were just milling around the dimly lit interior. It resembled some kind of post office with the administrators shielded behind armored glass and armed guards were posted at strategic intervals around the inside.

My escorts pointed to a queue and I dutifully joined it. Don’t mess with people with firearms.

I was a good shoulder’s height above the woman in front, so I could get a good view around the place. To my surprise the plague victims here just looked, well ordinary. No busty blondes, no supermodels, except me I guess; just ordinary scared looking women. I couldn’t see any non-humans too. I guess they either didn’t come in or were moved to a separate area.

The odd thing was that nobody was speaking, or even talking in whispers. Nobody was even making eye contact, I may as well have been here on my own. I already missed Carolyn, at least she could give me somebody to talk to. The women around the room were wearing whatever they had found to put on, mostly male clothes that were too baggy or long. I was glad I had gone out and got some clothes that at least fitted me, even though I still didn’t feel comfortable or right wearing bra and panties. I caught a few of the other women eyeing me up, old habits died hard I guess.

Eventually it came to my turn. A bored looking woman, looked at me, seemingly in contempt and her bored sounding voice pointed to a map on the far wall and said, ”Room 45, corridor C.”

“Ok, thanks,” My dulcet voice said in reply.

I walked along a long, white corridor. My suspicions that this had once been a hospital were confirmed, not only by the architecture of the corridors, but by the odd sign saying outpatients, or maternity ward. With this plague there were no outpatients. I glanced down at the small bulges my new breasts made in my blouse, “Yeah, only in patients,” I muttered bitterly.

I didn’t have to walk far to get to the room. I gave the door a cursory knock and when there was no reply I gave it a push. It swung open revealing a neon lit room, with just a table, chair and computer console. I sat down on the chair, “Now what?” I asked out loud.

“Please use the computer to answer a few questions!” A detached, but calming voice came over the intercom. “Ok”.

Filling in the first few questions was straightforward. Some of the later ones gave me pause.

”Before your change did you regard prostitution as a thrilling prospect?”

I typed “No.”

“Did this change after your change?”

The thought of any man, screwing me sent shivers down my spine.

Ugh! I typed “No”.

“Do you feel the urge for any of the following, Tattoo’s, body piercing, cosmetic surgery or Amputation.”

Amputation?! I Pressed N for ‘No’.

I was bombarded with question after question, Was I a lesbian? Did I have any disabilities before the change and so on.

After about 300 questions the survey was over and I pressed enter. A few seconds later the screen changed to “Wait…”

I waited for nearly ten minutes. Had I filled the forms in wrong?

There was a knock at the door, “Can I come in?” A woman’s voice asked. I detected a slight New York accent. Based on some of the question’s I’d answered that may or may not have been her true accent.

“Sure,” I replied.

The door opened and in walked a small, petite woman of about forty. I couldn’t tell what she was wearing as it was hidden by a white doctors coat. Her black hair, had several purple dyed streaks around her and her small button nose had a large stud pierced in it, as did her left eyebrow.

“Pat isn’t it?” She asked.

“Yeah, what have I done?” I asked.

She smiled, flashing two sharpened canine teeth. “Nothing. It’s you I want to talk about.”

“What about me?” Oh shit! They were going to move me away from Carolyn!

“Don’t look so worried. It’s about your test results,” the woman tried to reassure me.

“Did I pass?” I wasn’t aware there even was a pass mark. “I thought the idea of the tests was to find out what the effects of the plague were,” I gestured at my blonde hair, “Besides the obvious.”

“My name is Richard, Sorry, Jane Andrews. I’ll get right to the point. You are special, A one in one hundred thousand special!”

“How come? Special about what?” This was starting to worry me.

“Your test results show that you have no discernable Gea’s, your replies to the questions indicates that you have the potential for supernatural abilities?”

“No Geas? Supernatural, like a ghost?”

Jane smiled, “No meaning psychic abilities, bodyswapping or even prophesy. In your case you have a 90% probability of being a bodyswapper. Most people with these abilities also have Geas that affect them, hold them back. You appear to have none. To put it in layman’s”, she gave a wry smile, “Or Laywoman’s terms ,only two hundred people have ever shown supernatural tendencies with no Geas to go with them.”

No wonder I’d answered no to so many questions. Somehow, by a fluke of fate I’d missed out on one of the nastiest aspects of the plague. Gea’s caused normal people to exhibit behaviors that were seemingly the opposite to how they really were. If they were quiet and restrained their Gea would make them loud and promiscuous. If they were loud and promiscuous then the Gea would make them shy and restrained. It was very, very rare that people had no Gea at all. These people, of which I was apparently one, were called ‘Alpha’s’.

“You mean I’m an Alpha?”

Jane nodded, “Yeah. Your test results were right in the top 1% of plague suffers. So apart from looking like one hot babe, you are a lucky one too.”

Babe? Nobody had called me babe before! I’m not sure I liked the sound of that, ”Babe?” I said incredulously.

Jane raised an eyebrow, “Another test, Alpha’s also find it the hardest to come to terms with their femininity. We think its something to do with the fact that a Gea will help the transition, so it can start to influence the person who has it. You have no Geas and so don’t get the adjustment they offer.”

“So I get to stay depressed at this,” I gestured at my shapely body, “forever?”

“That is up to you. There’s one other thing?”

“Which is?”

“Since you seem to have the potential to swap bodies there are a few things people with your ‘gift’ have told us to help others,” Jane’s voice had an element of warning.

Now I was worried. I hadn’t got used to this body, let alone get anyone else’s, “Like what?”

“Most bodyswappers, exchange bodies when they feel an emotional attachment or link to someone. If they see someone hurting and they feel as though they want to help, to come alongside them in their hour of need, then there’s a high probability a swap will occur.”

Carolyn? How would this affect Carolyn and I? “What about my wife? She’s a non human, could I swap with her when she’s feeling down one day?” This would be a nightmare, I’d have to keep my feelings in check all the time!

Jane shrugged, “The simple answer is that I don’t know for sure. Since you haven’t swapped already then the chances are against it. We will do a blood test to see how active it is, or if its just latent.”

I hated being female, but the prospect of being half cat, half woman like Carolyn terrified me. Maybe that’s why we hadn’t swapped. “What else?”

Jane’s face turned more serious. “You have the potential to ruin many lives. For example if you see a man who looked like you used to, you could try and swap with them just so you could get a male body back. You’re still adapting to your new sex, and that’s no doubt caused massive disruption in your lives. Imagine forcing somebody into what you are going through for your own selfish gain.”

The thought of bodyswapping with a man, to get a male body back hadn’t even entered my head. Could I, would I do such a thing?

To get a male body back, to get rid of these, these things on my chest, to feel the reassuring sensation of a dick between my legs rather than the warm, fleshy folds of a pussy. Would the ruination of someone’s life be worth it to get all back?

Jane saw what I was thinking, “It IS tempting isn’t it? Just be aware that if you do swap with someone, you take your abilities and the plague with you. Did you ever hear of Elizabeth Richards?”

“No?”

“I’m not surprised, it was kept quiet and the media stories soon died away. Anyway Elizabeth was a body swapper, just like you. She also had no Geas to speak of. Because of this she had a very hard time adapting to her new body, so when she was released from the camps she found the cutest looking guy she could find and swapped with him and ran.”

“Then what?” I could imagine the shock for the man to suddenly be in a body not his own, and seeing his own body run off into the sunset..

“Because she carried the plague with her, any male body she swapped with soon began to turn female, so she had to find one man after another to maintain her male form. Sometimes it would take a few days to turn female, other times a few weeks. But she lived an almost ghoul like existence having to swap every time she turned female again.”

That sounded horrible, all those lives ruined just for the sake of a few days of maleness, “What happened to her?”

“She just vanished. She moved to New York, and was never heard of again. The body jacking stopped before she vanished so I guess she’s given up. In any case, as I said, with this power comes responsibility. I doubt if you’ll get much chance to be tempted anyway. As you know they’ve reopened the camps.”

I nodded, “I know. It’s like being sent to jail.”

Jane nodded her agreement, “We’re all being shipped out next week. I suspect they’re closing these centers down and just putting people in the camps without trying to help them first. There’s so many people this time round, we’re struggling to cope. But that’s not your problem. What is you problem is the blood test I’m about to take.”

I undid the sleeve of my blouse, and rolled it up to show my slender, delicately muscled arm. Jane took a sealed syringe from a pouch around her waist, unwrapped it and walked over to me.

“OW” I said as she put the needle in, drew some blood and wiped it clean.

“We’ll have the test results in an hour or so. We’ve found that there are certain proteins that are more numerous in your blood than in a normal person. If they are over a certain threshold then you are a bodyswapper. Massive amounts can mean that you would swap bodies with someone with little or no control over it.”

“What happens if that’s the case?” I asked anxiously.

“It depends. If the protein levels show you may be able to control it with some training then you’ll be allowed to go to the camps with your wife. If it’s uncontrollable period, or will take months to train you to control it, then you’ll have to be kept in solitary until you can.”

“That’s barbaric!” I spat in anger. How could they do that to me!

Jane nodded her agreement, “Yes it is. However how else are we supposed to protect the camp and even yourself from the chaos this would cause? Don’t worry; we’ve only had one person who we needed to restrain in this way.”

“What happened to her?” I asked bitterly. Not only was I some kind of transgendered freak I could be locked away for my own and others protection.

Jane gave a sigh, “She couldn’t control her swapping. No matter how much emotional training she had, she would swap as soon as they pretty much saw another person,” there was a pause, “she managed to swap with a guard and use their shoe laces to commit suicide.”

“Oh Fuck!” I swore.

“As I said, it’s very, very, very rare. This patient was the only case in the world that needed this treatment. Just wait here, I’ll be back in an hour. Jane gave me a comforting smile and walked out of the door. I heard a click as she locked the door behind me.

Now what the fuck was I supposed to do? My relief at not having some godawful Gea had evaporated, if anything this ‘gift’ as Jane called it was worse. What if I had to be locked away? What if I never saw Carolyn again? Some fucking gift!

I had lost so much, my sense of who I was, my voice, some of my eyesight and more than that the feeling that I was being thrown down the drain grew inside me. Sure Jane was very pleasant, but that’s because I was special. Those poor people herded like sheep and processed like cattle on the way to slaughter. If Jane was right and the numbers were overwhelming them, then it would only get worse. According to the news the camps had been on the brink of collapse as it was, now what would happen now more and more are pouring in?

I took a deep breath, ‘change the things you can change’ I told myself. I couldn’t change the blood test results, so I’d deal with that as and when it happened. The more I looked at things, the less I realize I could actually change. I was the train on the track heading towards an unknown destination. I had no idea where I would be going, or indeed what. A few days ago, at least I’d had some kind of stability; but now that stability had been blown apart.

Damn glasses, had slipped down my nose again. What was taking them so long?

Suddenly a wave of tiredness overwhelmed me and I struggled to keep my eyes open. The stress of the last few days was catching up on me.

The next thing I knew Jane was shaking me awake, “Pat?”

I gave a yawn, “Yeah”

“We have your results,” she said softly.

That woke me up, “And?” I asked, trying to sound unconcerned.

“You are a body swapper. The good news is that it’s latent at the moment.”

I breathed a sigh of relief, “What’s latent?”

“It means that you have the potential to switch bodies with someone, but that it’s not yet reached the point where you WILL switch.”

“Yet?”

Jane nodded, “Yes, yet. We’ve seen a few cases like yours worldwide. You fit the profile perfectly. What happens is that, as time goes on your ability will grow and develop. If left untrained, you’ll just swap with the first person you see. However you can be trained to do it as and when you want.”

“So I could control it, Maybe never swap?”

Jane Nodded, “The levels of the proteins are such that it’s a distinct possibility”

I breathed a sigh of relief, “How long before it’s not latent anymore?”

Jane shrugged her shoulders, “The levels are quite low, a year maybe less, maybe more. We’ll do weekly tests to see how the levels fluctuate. They usually peak during your menstrual cycle.”

Oh fuck, periods. Of course I would have periods wouldn’t I. Yet another thing I had no control over. “So what now?”

Jane smiled, “We watch you closely. I’ll mail you every week or so to see how you’re doing and you’ll need to report to the camp hospital every week for blood tests.”

“Does everyone get the VIP treatment?” judging from the poor souls in the foyer they certainly didn’t. At least not anymore.

“Only the Alpha’s. We believe they hold the key to defeating the plague, so we need to take special care of them, take special care of you.”

Jane checked her watch, ”Shit, is that the time? The guards at the door will take you to the bus where your wife is waiting. You’ve been allocated to Reservation Anderson. It won’t be four star accommodation for sure, but it still has some running water and basic facilities. A lot of the other camps were mostly dismantled before the plague hit again. Anderson is the best we have, until it gets sorted out again.”

“Thanks,” Reservation Anderson was where Carolyn had been before, Where Matthew had done his broadcasts from. Images from those broadcasts swept thru my mind. I was going there, for better or worse Camp, sorry Reservation Anderson was going to be my new home for the foreseeable future. I gave a deep sigh that caused my breasts to heave under the bra I now wore; yet another thing I couldn’t change.

Curse +831 Days 16:32 Maki’s story - Registration

The supermodel looking woman with glasses who had been looking at me got served way before me. I was sitting down on the floor, as standing was too painful. I’d been waiting here for ages.

Eventually it was my turn and I waddled towards a room just down the corridor. Even after that short walk I was breathless. I was told to sit down at the table, which proved difficult as my bulky mass of flab that was now my stomach stopped me from reaching the table.

So I had to stand while I completed the questions on the computer screen. My ankles were in agony by the time I’d finished. Within a few moments, two stern looking security guards, side arms un-holstered indicated I should follow them. It seemed miles to walk, even though in reality it was only a few hundred meters. If only mom and dad could be here with me. I miss them!

I was told to get on the bus and stay there. I overheard the blonde supermodel and his cat woman wife/friend chatting. We were going to Reservation Anderson, which according to the supermodel was one of the better camps. I edged closer to the seat, trying to hear what they were saying. Apparently ‘Supermodel’ is some kind of special freak of the plague and going to get the VIP treatment at the camp. Typical! Even here the American privilege system is in full flow.

‘Keep calm Maki’ I tell myself. ‘Supermodel’ may have the looks and the privileges, but when the scientists find a cure they’ll come to me first. They’ll do the ugly first, then the good and finally ‘supermodel’s’ Then we’ll see who looks like a Cosmo fashion model. They’ll be able give Dad his body back, and change mine for me into something other than this hideous mass of flesh.

All I have to do is wait, something will turn up. It always does.

Curse +832 07:33 Days - Pat’s story - Reservation Anderson

We’d driven thru the night to reach Reservation Anderson, and most of the people on the bus had fallen asleep at some point in time. Not me. My legs ached, and I was as stiff as a board. The atmosphere had been strained even before we’d set off. Everyone once again lost in their own thoughts and fears.

We heard the president’s speech over the radio, and even though I didn’t think it possible hopes had dived even more. We weren’t going to Reservation Anderson for a few months, we were going for life. All of us had been holding out hope that we would be let out again soon that hope died with the presidents executive orders.

Roadblocks and the military were everywhere. The entire country was locked right down, it seemed the only traffic allowed anywhere apart from the army were these coaches taking hundreds of thousands of people into captivity.

Carolyn had had mixed reactions to my news. She was pleased I’d escaped without a Gea, but the thought of my not adapting very well to my new sex troubled her. The body swapping thing troubled her too, she didn’t want me to swap with her. She wouldn’t want to put anyone else thru what she went thru; what she was still going thru.

Reservation Anderson loomed large in the windows. Miles and Miles of razor wire stretching as far as the eye could see. Before that had been mile of after mile of signs warning that there were landmines on either side of the single road that let into the camp. The camp itself was in the middle of nowhere, no hiding place and no escape.

The National Guard was everywhere; tanks, APC’s and artillery were placed at strategic intervals along the road. The message was clear, nobody gets out of Reservation Anderson.

I could feel panic starting to rise inside me. ‘Deep breaths Pat’ I told myself. I could now hear a few people gently sobbing as it began to hit home that this is where we were going to stay, pending a miracle we’d live and die here. I glanced over to Carolyn, her triangular cat ears and whiskers twitching as she slept. Without her it’d be unbearable, without her I’d have no hope at all.

My crotch was getting all wet and moist in the heat, unconsciously I gave it a scratch and the pleasure I felt as my hands touched my pussy thru my pants reminded me what I had become. I doubted I’d ever get used it.

Curse +840 Days Maki’s story - Hell on earth

I can’t stand it in here. My body is too big to walk comfortably, so I spend most of my time in bed listening to the sounds of a people in bondage and waiting to die. I’m bought food and water by my neighbors, and because I find walking so painful it makes me breathless within a few hundred meters or so. I tried going on a hunger strike and only drinking water. I did lose a few pounds or so it seemed but then a few days after I just piled them back on again, even without eating. Somehow this body refuses to lose any weight at all.

I miss mom and dad! If they were here at least I’d have some company and someone to comfort me. I’ve applied for extradition back to Japan, but seeing as the whole of this country is locked down and effectively under martial law I’m not holding my breath. A few people have called in to make sure I’m ok, but in my current state of despair I’m poor company.

My last, my final hope I’m clinging onto is that maybe science will be able to find a cure if not for the plague but this hateful body of mine. My life is in ruins, my studies now a waste of time. I’m in hell, trapped inside this metal box with only a small breeze to stop me from baking alive; and only the slender promise that mankind’s inventiveness may, at last hold an answer, any answer is what keeps me going.

Curse +840 Days Pat’s story - Camaraderie

Matthew is coming round in an hour or so to celebrate Carolyn and my good news. My last set of blood test results have come in, apparently the way the protein numbers have been growing is a consistent curve, which means that they can predict when I’ll be able to swap bodies, if I wish to that is.

It’s embarrassing to get all this VIP treatment from the authorities. I’d been given an almost decent place to stay, one of the few remaining concrete and brick houses in the camp. It was closest to the water and power supplies and if it wasn’t for the surroundings it’d be more like a camping lodge than a refugee hut. My first few days were the hardest, especially when, two days ago my first period started. The last remaining link to my masculinity, my old life had gone. I was now a fully fertile and functional woman. Carolyn and Matthew were there to see me thru it, I don’t like it one bit and my rampaging hormones don’t make it any easier. If I start to feel sorry for what I’ve lost I just take a walk and see the conditions other people are living in. Living is too strong a word, surviving is a better one. Thanks to mine and Carolyn preparation, and my emergency shop we could lay our hands on pretty much anything we wanted, well as long as the tampons and lingerie supply held out.

All around me I see people in the greatest need, people suffering in huge numbers and yet the system that has deserted them has come flocking to me. I had an E-mail from Dr Andrews explaining why.

Apparently if they can monitor a body swap in progress, learn how it works both physically and chemically then maybe they can hijack that mechanism to find a full cure for the plague. That’s why they are emphasizing controlling it and keeping a close eye on me and the very few others around the world. People who swap don’t actually physically change, Dr Andrews likens it more like an exchange of souls; although how that can happen is anyone’s guess and at the moment it’s more a wild theory of hers than a working hypothesis. The main point is, is that by using us there may well be a cure for the millions around the world who are suffering the effects of this mystery illness.

Dr Andrews was also spot on about my acceptance of my condition being a difficult battle. No matter how many times I put a bra on, urinate, or even catch a glimpse of my stunning reflection in the mirror I wince. If this body turned me on in some way at least that would be some comfort, but it doesn’t. I don’t fancy men, and there are some stunningly beautiful women in the camp(although not as many as there are plain ones) but somehow they do little for me.

Carolyn repeatedly teases me, calling me frigid. But its not that at all; it’s just the sense of been violated and trapped overwhelms any sexual feelings I might have. I know she’d love to try some ‘kitty love’ as she calls it and I can sense her frustration with me. My dad used to say ‘if a girl doesn’t feel like it, then a girl doesn’t do it!’ I never thought those words would apply to me. Maybe one day I’ll open up, but not just yet. I’ve too much baggage to deal with.

It’s nice to have a friendly face to come around and at least have some resemblance of normality with. Matthew may be a celebrity, but he does have a wonderful way of putting into words what the rest of us are feeling. Carolyn says she sees a lot of the person she called ‘the prophet’ in him. I’m not so sure, I just think its natural talent.

Matthew’s certainly getting quite a following around the camp. People flock to a natural leader, and in spite of his protestations he’s rapidly becoming the spokeswoman for the camps once more.

Carolyn and I are just happy to have him as a friend, confidant and someone just to hang out with.

I heard a hissing from the stove, the potato’s had just boiled over.

Curse +918 Days 11:23 PST Matthew's story - Current affairs

“Once again I find myself the voice of those who have the plague, no it’s more like curse victims now. The feeling of being thrown away in the trash pervades the camp. If anything morale is even lower now than it ever was. Every day sees buses bringing hundreds more in, surely the camp can’t hold many more people, and yet the tide of victims doesn’t seem to slow or prevent the authorities from placing people here..“

I pressed pause on my dictaphone, yeah that was how I felt about things. A thought struck me and I resumed recording.

“There’s been no time for the authorities to rebuild the infrastructures they had started to dismantle. As a result we have minimal power, running water is limited in supply and most of the housing had been taken down. I’ve heard reports that dysentery, malnutrition and even TB have started to set in rather than the isolated cases we had last time. We are a third world country refugee camp, inside the richest nation on the planet. We’ve seen little of the work parties that have supposed to have been drafted into help. I suspect they’ve been used to try and keep law and order against all the militia groups that have sprung up and to try and enforce the presidents executive orders..

The feeling amongst everyone I talk to is that we’re here for life. I can’t see anything persuading the government to let us out now. We’ve serving a life sentence and our only crime was to catch some disease that nobody knows how it’s transmitted or how it works.”

I pressed Pause once more. Did that sound too bitter and betrayed? A little maybe, but it’s true. I resumed my dictation.

“Maybe the prophet was right, maybe night has fallen and we should have been ready for it. It’s a shame she’s not here, at least she would have had some kind of answer for what has happened over the past few weeks. Maybe she was right about the dark forces at work too. It certainly feels like mankind is under some curse at the moment. Well, not all mankind, just those unlucky enough to catch the plague.”

Paused. I glanced outside my window and saw people, shuffling along, heads down and backs bent. They reminded me of the people in Belsen and Dachau in the last world war. I pressed record once more.

“I look outside from my desk and see people, walking slowly, heads down and almost shuffling along. I take it back, this is no refugee camp, or reservation, it’s a concentration camp. We’re sitting in here, rotting away on the inside and just waiting to die. Something has to give, three million people cannot be allowed to die and suffer in this manner.”

Paused.

My next CNN broadcast isn’t for a week or so. Thanks to the executive orders in place it’ll need to be scrutinized for suitability. So I’ve lots of time to edit things out. It’s important to get your feelings down as you have them, otherwise events can overtake them. I resumed recording.

“The world thinks its doing the right thing by confining us, and I guess it is; for them anyway. I remember the prophet telling me about Eyam. Maybe we should have stayed where we were, maybe the president, director and his assistant were the destroyers. But how were we to know this was going to happen? How were we to know that the plague would hit again with such ferocity when it had all but died out for months?

It came at the worst possible time; sprits were high and hope higher. Now, the whole human race is in darkness, we’re at midnight and there is no sign of the dawn. The martial law the president has imposed has made things a hundred times worse. People are now not only in terror of getting the plague, their freedom of movement and speech has been restricted so that what hope remained has almost gone. Almost overnight the greatest democracy the world has ever known had been cast aside, replaced by a nation under the rule of fear.

Can our spirits sink any lower than they already have? Something has to give, some light has to shatter the darkness. If it does not, then I fear that us poor souls in these camps are only the first to drift around waiting for the end. For when we fall, the rest of the human race cannot be far behind.”

Curse +920 Days 15:42PST The Directors Story - Cumbre Vieja

Lucy swanned into the office, looking like the cat that had just got a decades worth of cream. She had a look of supreme confidence and of extreme satisfaction about her. When Lucy looked this confident I worried.

She cleared a space on my desk and sat down on it, showing every inch of her long legs. “Ever heard of a place called Cumbre Vieja?” She said in a smug voice.

I shrugged my shoulders, “No, sounds like a place in Mexico.”

Lucy gave me another broad smile, exposing her perfect teeth, “I think you and about six billion others are about to,” she got off the desk and turned the TV on to CNN.

“It's just sport,” I said. What WAS Lucy up to? A feeling of dread swept over me.

Lucy checked her watch and counted out loud,” 10,9,8,7,6,5,4,3,2,1,” she gave another smug smile, “Boom!”

The sport continued for about another 25 or so minutes. What in hell was Lucy up to?

I glanced at the TV screen, as a news flash broke onto the screen. “We're sorry to interrupt our scheduled programming but this has just come in. We’re getting reports of some kind of massive explosion on the island of La Palma. We’re now going to Alison Steadman, on the nearby island of La Gomera.”

The scene cut to a young woman, in shorts and a green blouse. She was standing on what looked to be a large strip of tarmac. Various aircraft were behind her, and a helicopter was just behind her, obviously waiting to take off. “About twenty five minutes or so ago the horizon was lit up by large flash of light. This was followed seconds later by small earth tremors that rattled the windows at my hotel.”

The camera panned to the horizon where it showed a sickening sight. A large mushroom cloud, full of orange and yellow menace was starting to spread out across the sky. The reporter continued, “As you can see from this exclusive footage taken only a few minutes ago, the explosion appears to be the result of a nuclear weapon of some description.”

The anchor woman asked “Alison, any idea as to who or what could have caused this to happen. Why La Palma and not Los Angeles?”

Alison shook her head, ”We have no idea as to who did this or what their motive was. I’ve got a chopper on standby here at the airport. All contact has been lost with the island. If it was a nuclear explosion then I’m told the EM pulse would have shorted out any electrical equipment on the island, thus making any communications impossible.”

“We’d better let you get on your way. We’ll leave you with live pictures from the island of La Gomera.” the Anchorwoman said.

The scene showed the mushroom cloud starting to dissipate as the wind carried the fallout far and wide. The news anchor asked an unseen expert, “What are we seeing here”

A caption appeared on screen ‘Gen John Greenspan(ret). Another voice, a man this time said, “We’re seeing remains of an explosion, of what we think could be that of a small nuclear weapon, maybe a suitcase sized device. Such a device would indeed render pretty much every electronic device within a 10-15 mile radius useless. The blast would have a devastating effect on anything within a 2 mile radius. We won’t have a satellite picture for another 15 minutes or so, so we don’t know where the bomb went off.”

“Do we have any idea of the potential death toll?” the anchor woman asked solemnly. The mushroom cloud was rapidly fading away, and was now being mixed in with a dark gray cloud.

“Not until we know where the explosion was.”

The anchor woman interrupted “I’ve got Alison on board the chopper now.” The camera view changed to a picture of a turquoise blue ocean and what I presumed to be the island of La Palma. A huge plume of black and gray smoke came from the centre of the island.

“It looks as though the explosion was centered around the dormant volcano. The explosion seems to have caused the Volcano to become active once more. I’m no expert but I’d guess it’s about to erupt.”

“Can you see any signs of survivors?”

“The pilot is reluctant to go any closer because of the risk of radiation and any volcanic ash getting into the engine. As you can see the plume of smoke is now covering a large area of the island. Geoff, can we zoom in anymore?” Alison asked her cameraman.

The camera zoomed into an unobscured part of the island. Large cracks had begun to form in the ground, “It looks as though whatever’s going on down there is causing massive earth tremors. It looks as though a huge part of the island is cracking apart!”

The smoke seemed to clear for an instant and the camera showed a long series of cracks and fissures running deep inland. People could be seen running out of houses, hotels and resorts as earthquakes seemed to shake the entire island. Seconds later the buildings would collapse leaving the people fleeing the devastation. “We’re now going to try and fly to the western side of the island.”

I caught a glimpse of a river of what looked like red lava, straight from Dante’s inferno running like water away from the side of the mountain., like a red river of white and red hot death nothing survived its touch, not house, hotel, school or town . I could make out crowds of people fleeing the scene. This river of lava was out running the crowd and in an instant they were gone, consumed by fire and liquid rock. It was sickening to watch. A massive explosive sound came out of the TV, and after a brief second of dizzying images the TV went black.

“Alison are you there?” The anchor woman asked worriedly.

No reply.

The Anchorwoman was silent for a few seconds, composing herself “We seem to be having a few technical problems with Alison’s broadcast at the moment. We’ll try and get her back for you. We just had this sent in a minute or so ago from the camera crew at La Gomera”

The camera showed a wall of water rushing towards it at impossible speed, this wave was so big it blotted out the sky and the entire horizon from East to West. Seconds later the camera feed was cut off as what I assumed was the wave crashed into the camera.

“Holy Fuck! what was that!” I heard the anchorwoman say under her breath. “Ladies and gentlemen we seem to have lost the feed from La Gomera as well. I can’t find the words to say at the moment. General?”

“At a guess I’d say the Volcano just erupted,” the general said in a matter of fact way.

“I’ve just been told that Chris Whiteman in Rabat, Morocco has more information. Chris, What can you tell us?”

A youngish man, about thirty came on screen, his face looked visibly shaken, “As you know an hour or so ago, something resembling a nuclear explosion rocked the island of La Palma, just off the Canary islands. I’ve just been given images from the nearest satellite and the news is not good. I’m told that such was the force of the explosion that it caused the dormant volcano, Cumbre Vieja to explosively erupt. Such was the violence of the explosion that most of the western side of the island has just crashed into the Atlantic Ocean just minutes ago.”

The anchor lady looked puzzled, “What does that mean?”

“I can only stay for another minute before I have to escape, but basically the force of this Island collapse has caused a massive tidal wave, called a Mega Tsunami. The wave is currently traveling at 700 miles an hour, and has already reached a height of 1,500 feet. I'm sorry I must go. The Canary Islands are gone, nearly 2 million men women and children have already been swept away! The wave is expected to devastate the West Coast of Africa within the next 10 minutes.”

I couldn't believe what I was hearing, two million dead, volcanic eruptions, half mile high tidal waves traveling at 700 miles an hour! Such was the shock, that the realization took its time to sink in, LUCY KNEW! Before I could say anything, CNN had found one of their staff geologists and had put him on screen. He looked even more shaken and upset than the reporter did.

He was saying, “It seems as though most of the Island of La Palma has crashed into the sea, after a nuclear explosion caused the eruption of a volcano. The effects of this are and will be the most devastating natural disaster in recorded history, eclipsing even that of Krakatoa or even a massive earthquake in the San Andreas fault. These forces have almost unlimited power to cause utter destruction and there’s nothing that we can do to stop them. A rapid landslide into water will cause a massive shock wave, rather like throwing a big stone into a pond.”

I glanced in disgust and horror at Lucy who was still smiling away, as if amused by the whole thing.

“It looks as though a 15 mile chunk of the island, weighing half a trillion metric tons slammed into the Atlantic with incredible speed and force. The disintegration of the rock, an earlier study a few years back predicted, would produce an avalanche deposit extending 32 miles from the island. The energy released by the collapse would be equal to the electricity consumption of the entire United States in half a year!”

The geologist paused as if trying to say what he was thinking of. “It is known that for all their destructiveness tsunami formed by earthquakes or storms are inherently limited in size. That is because they are caused by shifts in the seabed. When an earthquake cracks the ocean floor one side of the fracture rises up. When this happens the water above the fracture is lifted up by the same amount. This movement pushes the water upwards and outwards creating a wave on the surface of the sea, which becomes a tsunami, but even the biggest earthquakes can only lift the sea floor by about 10 yards which creates a wave of the same height. That’s about as big as a normal tsunami gets.”

Again the geologist fought back the tears; he put his hand over his mouth and breathed deeply. I heard a small laugh from Lucy. It sickened me to the core to hear her; but I had to know what was going on.

“Storm waves, however high they are, have a very short wave length, usually no more than 100 yards from the front of the wave to the back. This is because they are created merely by the effect of the wind on the surface of the sea. Mega-tsunami, on the other hand, move the entire body of the ocean, right down to the seabed several miles below. Because of the enormous volume of water that is shifted, mega-tsunami have very long wave lengths, often hundreds of miles from the front of the wave to the back. This makes them particularly devastating when they approach a shoreline. As the ocean shallows the front of the wave slows down, but the back of the wave is still traveling fast and pushes against the front making it rise up. This creates the first destructive characteristic of mega-tsunami when they hit the shore. They rear up to become a wall of water, just like we saw from La Gomera. The long wavelength also creates a second frightening characteristic. Instead of breaking on the shore the whole length of the wave sweeps onto land engulfing everything before it. With storm waves the wavelength is just a few tens of yards, but with mega-tsunami its hundreds of miles. What this means is that when storm waves break onto a coastline they break almost immediately, but mega-tsunami just keep on coming through the whole length of the wave and this makes them incredibly powerful and incredibly destructive.”

“Cool huh?” Lucy said with a grin, “Here comes the best bit!”

I wanted to reply, but the sounds dried up in my throat. It was all I could do to watch the News unfolding on the TV in front of me.

“At this moment, waves of unimagined power and destructive potential are heading towards the Eastern United States. When they hit, every town and city up to thirty miles inland, from Newfoundland to the coast of South America will be wiped off the face of the earth. New York, Boston, Miami the entire set of Caribbean islands, Cuba and the Bahamas will be utterly destroyed. Even the lower part of Washington will be affected.”

“My God!” I cried in anguish. All those people!

“Your God, maybe, not mine!” Lucy said with a contented grin. I turned away from her; unable to look at the evil that had invaded the room.

“Already a 150 foot high wave is poised to smash into the West African coastline, Portugal, Spain and the South West of England. The words Global Catastrophe are not understated.”

The news reader looked unable to speak, collecting herself she asked, “How long before it hits us, and is there anything we can do?”

Trying his best to remain calm, the Geologist replied, “The first, most massive wave will hit the continental USA in around 7 hours. Already the Canary Islands are gone. The death toll will be unimaginable. Certainly in the tens, if not hundreds of millions of people will be swept away. As for stopping it? You're kidding right? No force on earth can stop this, nothing at all!”

The newscaster interrupted “We've managed to get a video link from an RAF Nimrod aircraft that was on patrol in the area when it happened. It's now tracking the wave we speak.”

The screen changed to a rough video image of a wall of water. The crest of it was boiling and foaming with obvious menace. It was almost as if it was building up for its sole purpose; which was to destroy everything in its way, be it house, tree or city . This tidal wave was moving as fast as the aircraft could fly; it even seemed to be outrunning it!”

I saw what looked to be tiny models of supertankers trying desperately to get away be swept up and smashed into matchwood. In horror I realized that those models were the some of the largest ships on the ocean. They had been swept aside like a paper boat in a hurricane.

A clipped British accent then spoke, in a cold matter of fact way. “We're at an altitude of 12,000 ft and the wave crest is at least 900 feet high. The pilot tells me that we are at maximum speed and still the wave is outrunning us. This is as low as we can go, as the turbulence following the wave is too great. It's like flying through a hurricane. The wave extends as far as I can see and shows no sign of petering out. There are at least seven waves of slighter lesser height following it; again I can't see how long they go on for. I would guess the wavelength would be at least 20 miles for each wave. That gives a total wavelength of, holy shit, one hundred and forty miles!”

The picture suddenly shook as the plane was rocked by the high winds. The observer said softly. “We have to turn back and find somewhere to land, our fuel is almost out. God Speed to you and good luck.”

“You did this! Why?” I shouted at Lucy. I couldn't stand to think about what was going to happen in just a few hours time.

“Because I can,” Lucy said arrogantly.

“We never agreed to this!” The anger was welling up within me! I could feel my cheeks flush with fury.

“The deal was, I leave you and your family alone and you help me in return. What I do outside of the deal is none of your business,” Lucy said coldly.

“But this is, is just,” I struggled for the words to say. The numbers were just too big. The shock of the last few minutes was too much for me. My God all those people!

“Why do this?” I managed to utter.

“You humans are all the same, you have no idea who you really are, or where you really came from. You were made in the image of your God, and yet you threw it all away. I know because I was there! You do not value your own lives, so why should I?, and besides, I need the land!” Lucy gave me a look as though I was some toy for her own amusement, a disposable object for her plan.

She saw the realization sink in on my face, “Yes, director dear. I needed you to achieve my short term objectives. I still have a use for you, so the deal still stands. You and your family will not be harmed as long as you continue to help me. You do still want that don't you?”

I didn't know anymore. If I said no, I would die here and now or worse. If I said yes, how many more would this creature kill or maim before its aims were met. When I had first found out what and who Lucy was I thought that I could control her, somehow thwart her plans from the inside. She had told me her plans, but I now saw that they were lies, she had, had bigger things in mind all along! Back in the first days of the curse everyone was so panic stricken they would do anything not to be affected. Now in my weakness I was facing an impossible choice. “I need time to think it over. I can't think at the moment, so many people..”

Lucy looked at me in utter contempt, “You have an hour. I have things to do, people to see and I want to be around to watch when the wave hits,” Lucy then just simply faded away from sight. It was as if one second she was there, the other not.

I sat down on my chair and watched the news, unable to believe what was going on. By this time fighter aircraft had reached the wave front and were tracking its awful and inevitable path. New York, Miami and Boston were in panic, and a sick feeling in my stomach told me very few people would be able to get away from the Tsunami in time.

Lucy had to be stopped, although how I had no real idea how, only theories. I now knew that I was a marked man. I would die, or worse sooner or later and somehow it bought me some comfort. Months, years of being HER slave, doing what she wanted me to do, for fear of my families life had taken their toll on me. I wanted out, I wanted to show the world, that in my last few days alive I had the courage to say NO, this further and no more.

I took out my Dictaphone and a few sheets of paper and started to write and speak my thoughts at the same time. Lucy would find the written notes and think she had stopped me. The Dictaphone was there as insurance. My last act, before I put the pen down and mailed the Dictaphone tape to Mathew, was to write a letter to my family at end of my notes.

-- oo -- oo --

“When the Mega Tsunami, later to be named as Apollyon; meaning the destroyer, hit the continental USA the effects were immediate and catastrophic. Seventy million people died instantly as the wave's smashed through cities as though they were made of paper. The wave finally broke, 37 miles inland, leaving behind it destruction on a biblical scale. Every man, woman, child, house, tree, and city for a strip 2342 miles long by 37 miles wide was gone, wiped off the face of the earth. Obliterated.

Seven hours was nowhere near enough time to save the majority of the population. The Executive orders limiting freedom of movement meant that many were trapped inside their homes and cities, unable to get away because the system that had sought to save them now prevented them from fleeing for survival, eventually the system cracked and broke. People fled for their lives, but the delay had been costly. Never before in the history of the world had such a mass of human beings moved and suffered together. This was no disciplined march--it was a stampede,without order and without a goal, sixty million people unarmed and un-provisioned, driving headlong. It was the beginning of the rout of civilization, of the massacre of mankind.

The land was ruined; it would be years before the salt was removed from the soil, years before the land became dry enough to rebuild on. The financial damage was measured in the trillions of dollars, the human cost will never be fully known.”

Excerpt from “Apollyon” By Prof Richard nee Jane Andrews, Chair Magic Studies, MIT. ISBN 3233243543

-- oo -- oo --

Curse +923 Days 09:23 PST Matthew's story - Creation Redux

I was sitting with Carolyn working thru my latest report. “What do you think of this,” I said, “Three days in which the entire world has been thrown into disarray and anarchy. The terrorist group that carried out the attack a few days ago, has as yet made no demands, no statement and has left a world cowering in fear, grief and pain. It seems to me, that humanity has suffered a deep penetrating body blow and this combined with the resurgence of the plague means to some, that the extinction of the human race is only a matter of time.

The economy is destroyed, the losses incalculable; the numbers of dead and homeless beyond comprehension. As the world looks towards its leaders for answers, it finds that they have none. The rescue and recovery exercise was and is an impossible task. No single nation on earth has the ability and resources to cope.

While the world suffers in the middle of the darkest time it has ever known, a small glimmer of light has emerged. Apollyon did more than destroy thousands of square miles of land, millions of lives and centuries of history. It galvanized an entire planet into action, a unity of purpose never seen before and a humanitarian relief aid program unparalleled in history. Maybe it is in this darkness, that we finally discover if humanity is worthy of survival or destined to die out in darkness and despair. One thing is for certain, only a miracle can pull us away from the abyss that we as a nation and as a species are standing on the edge of.”

“Not bad,” Carolyn said, “Maybe a little melodramatic, but nobody would doubt what you said.”

Pat, dashing into the room, interrupted the conversation. No matter how hard he had tried, Pat still walked in the most unladylike fashion. “Turn…,” Pat was gasping for breath, “the,” deep breath, “TV On!” He flopped down on a spare chair, just in view of the TV. Put a brown parcel he had been carrying down on the floor, and gestured to me hurry up and turn the TV on.

“What's going on,” I asked. What in hell next?

Pat struggled to speak, but then managed to flip on the small portable TV I'd managed to acquire.

“The scenes where Apollyon hit are, to be frankly quite incredible. An hour ago a golden white light streaked across the sky and started to cover a fifty mile stretch of the devastated landscape.”

“What the FUCK is that?” I said. A wall of white light seemed to come up from the ground and straight up into the sky. It shimmered and sparkled with a fierce blue tinge, as if on fire.

The reporter went on, “The pictures you are seeing are a live feed from just outside the barrier that was erected as soon as the light hit the affected area. So far all attempts to penetrate the barrier have failed. The president has redirected several divisions of the National Guard, army and airforce to this location.”

“This has to be related to Apollyon,” Pat said in awe.

“Has to be, “ I whispered.

We all sat and watched the coverage for nearly two hours. Every possibility was discussed from Aliens to a secret government black program. In short nobody knew a damn thing and I didn't envy the reporters on site one little bit. Having to fill in and try and keep things interesting when nothing interesting is going on, was every newscasters nightmare. Still, I'd have given my eye teeth to be there!

“Look the fuck at that!” Carolyn exclaimed. A small gap had appeared in the barrier, and thru the brilliant white light a figure could be seen standing, as if in a doorway. The camera wobbled and tried to focus in on the figure. I heard the reporter whisper, “Jesus H Christ!”

The figure stepped out of the gap, and I couldn't help but gasp in astonishment. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. It was shaped like a man, but was surrounded by a blinding white light. So bright was the light I couldn't make out its features, but something inside me wanted to worship it. It was like my Gea, but only stronger. Whatever, or whoever it was clearly not of this world.

The figure was still several hundred yards away but the light was so intense it was causing the cameras to overexpose. The figure closed to within a hundred yards of the waiting media and still I couldn't make out its facial features. Then it spoke, its voice like running water, and the most incredibly beautiful voice I had ever heard. “I have seen your pain, felt your fears and now, in your hour of greatest need I have come to offer what little help I can.”

It's dulcet almost female tones sounded sincere, full of sadness and grief for the loss of life. “Many of you are watching on Television are full of fear and apprehension, that is more than understandable. It's a very human reaction. Let me set your minds at rest by telling you who I am and why I am here.”

“Now what!” Pat exclaimed, his eyes, like the rest of us were riveted to the screen.

“Shh!” Carolyn hissed, “It's talking!”

“My name is unpronounceable in your language, but you can simply call me 'Lucy'.” There was a blinding flash, that blotted out all the cameras for a few seconds. When they recovered a tall woman with a long mane of Dark black hair, that tumbled down her shoulders. She was wearing a smart, white business suit. I guess she/it had gone for the most acceptable image for the world to see. Realization dawned over me, I’d seen this woman before, “It's HER!” I exclaimed.

“Who?” The camp directors assistant! I've seen her a couple of times when I've been in videoconference with him. What the hell is going on?”

'Lucy' gave a smile, flashing a perfect set of white teeth, “Some of you will recognize me as the late director’s assistant. You are correct. I am that Lucy.”

“I knew it,” I said with an air of triumph.

“At least she's not hiding it,” Pat commented.

Lucy continued to speak, her voice showing compassion with every syllable. “I come from a world, which like yours was devastated by the plague. Instead of changing people, it killed them in the most horrific way possible. We had no idea where it came from, only that one day people, my people starting dying in the millions. Our best scientists tried for years to find a cure; they failed. The plague adapted to our genetic structure so completely it was impossible to tell who it had infected and who it had not. One day you would be alive and healthy, the next you would die. The plague is decimating our planet and its colonies. I was on a deep space exploration mission to a nearby solar system when it struck my world.”

“This is something out of a sci-fi novel,” Carolyn said, still disbelieving.

Lucy was still speaking, explaining her story. “I turned around to go home, to try and help but was told to stay away. It was then thru your television signals I heard of what was going on here. I spoke long and hard to my government and scientists and was given a new mission. To come here, and find out if your plague and our plague were related. To assist you in whatever way I could, without revealing myself to you. In helping you, maybe we could help ourselves.”

“Bet she bought it with her,” Pat said cynically.

“I managed to get a job as the late Plague bureau director's assistant. From that position I could monitor and help those afflicted as well as pass back any information your scientists found to my own world. My oath of non interference in your society stopped me doing more.”

'Lucy' paused for a few moments, and then continued. “The events of the last few days changed all that. After I saw the devastation caused by the Mega-Tsunami, you called Apollyon I could stand by no longer. I had to act! I had to come to aid of the people that had sheltered me and had given me a home!”

“This is my gift to you,” Lucy gestured to the golden yellow barrier, still sparking with unknown energy, “ as a demonstration of my technology and willingness to work alongside you to cure the plague that afflicts both our worlds.”

Slowly, the barrier became translucent, almost like glass de-misting under a heater on a cold day. Then, without warning it just vanished, “My God!” I heard myself say, almost instinctively.

Behind the barrier, where just a few hours ago was ruined, devastated land was what I can only describe as paradise. Tall trees grew where once was salt ruined land. Around the trees lay grassy meadows, filled with flowers of all colors and varieties. It was like an untouched world. Free from the effects of man and his pollution. This scene, almost from the garden of Eden stretched into the distance as far as I could see. Incredible!

Lucy explained to a staggered world, “I have used our advanced terraforming technology to reclaim and re-engineer the existing land and plants to not only rid the land of the effects of Apollyon but to create an ideal environment in which to repopulate.”

“How in hell did it do that! That entire area was wasted,” I heard Pat exclaim.

“Which brings me onto my proposition to the governments of the world. We can help each other. Give me the land ruined by Apollyon and I will continue the terraform process on the rest of it, but in return I want you to send me all the plague victims you can find. I'll give them a safe place to live, a place they can call home, a place away from prejudice, hate and fear. If they agree I will analyze their genetic makeup and send it back to my homeworld so that it can used in our fight against the plague. If we work together we can beat this!”

“Sign me up,” Carolyn stated. I must admit I felt the same way. This was IT, the way out. A homeland of our own! At long last mankind had a glimmer of hope. This was the miracle an entire planet had been praying for! The camps could close, and we, the forgotten and outcast would have a place of our own. Who knew what technology Lucy could share with us? Who knew what wonders she could bring? Maybe even a full cure! Nothing seemed impossible now! Lucy had acted just in the nick of time. Now, at last we could start to rebuild, finally the answers to all our hopes had come.

I looked around the room. I could see from the look on Pat and Carolyn’s face they were feeling exactly the same as me. Inside our very being I felt hope surge thru me. It was even stronger than my Gea, stronger than hunger. We had to go with Lucy! Our, the cursed generations destiny was to help Lucy and in return help ourselves. Lucy had started speaking and suddenly my thoughts were wrenched back to reality.

“Not only will those afflicted be safe and sound, you the governments of this world will no longer have to provide for them, no longer have to man camps or prisons to keep them away from society. They will leave here, with me and have free access to everything they will ever need. We can’t wait any longer, we have so little time left to us! Let me know tomorrow at noon time. I must stress the time pressure on both our worlds, if we delay too long then both our species are doomed.” with that 'Lucy' just vanished into thin air.

“Well you don't see that every day,” Pat joked.

“What's in the parcel?” I asked Pat. Now that things had calmed down a little my attention turned to the package he had been carrying when he first ran in.

“Dunno, its for you,” Pat said, picked it up from the floor and gently tossed it to me.

I studied the postal mark, “It's from Washington,” I opened it, using as little force as I needed to rip it open. I reached inside and pulled out a small Dictaphone. It still had a tape inside! Written on the label, in spidery handwriting was a note, “Play this! From your friend, Director”

“Who's it from?” Carolyn asked.

I replied. “The Director, he must have posted the day he shot himself. I wonder what's on it?” Whatever he wanted me to hear, would have to be important.

“Pat. Can you look in the second drawer down in my filing cabinet, and get my dictaphone out will you. Get me a spare tape too. I'll make a copy as I listen to it.”

“Sure,” Pat said. I'd been caught out like this before. First thing you do when you receive some impossible to replace evidence is to make a copy.

After the tape finished playing we sat back stunned, our hopes dashed and despair swept thru my heart. The promised miracle was a sham, a nightmare of an unimaginable order. The feelings of being on the verge of dawn, after the long dark night we had endured were dashed. It was still midnight, and if what was on the tape was true, mankind was in very, very deep shit indeed!

Curse +923 Days 14:00 PST Matthew's story - Lucy Apocalypse

After being on hold for four solid hours, and pulling in every favor I was ever owed by anyone in history I finally got put thru to Jake Wilson, senior security advisor to the president. “Send the tape in Matthew, We'll take a look at it and let you know.”

After four hours I expected, no demanded better than this, “Look Jake, don’t give me that old line. This is probably the most important testimony in history. The president needs to hear it, NOW!” I tried to keep my temper but my self control was failing.

Jake tried to calm me down, “I said, send it in and we'll listen to it. It's not bullshit, Matthew. We’re just a little busy right now!”

“I'll send it to CNN, ABC, Sky news; hell anyone who'll have it, before you get chance to listen to it. Then you can sort the mess out after the world knows about it,” I threatened. My journalistic genes wanted to do this from the start, but I felt honor bound to give the government time to prepare first.

“Fine, with me,” There was a click as Jake put the phone down. 'Lucy' had managed to throw the whole government in disarray. I knew that. I could just imagine the scenes in the oval office right now. The military hawks would want to take her out, the scientists would want to make first contact and the whole administration would be pulled from all sides. If the plague was supposed to be the story of the century, this was literally the story of history. The government didn't have time to get to grips with what they have now, let alone what I was about to reveal. Therefore there was only one thing for it. Go it alone.

I punched the quickdial number for the CNN newsdesk. It would take me directly thru to an editor. The phone was picked up within three rings, “This is Matthew Robinson of CNN. I need to speak to Andrew Collins right now! Tell him.. ”

“Please hold.”

“Ok,” this better not take too long. When in a hurry, go right to the top. Andrew Collins was in CNN terms, god almighty.

The voice came back on, ”I’m sorry but Mr Collins is in a meeting right now, he can take your call on Wednesday at 11am.”

“There won’t BE a Wednesday unless he listens to me, “ I snapped. Give him a message for me.

“Whats the message?” The voice asked wearily.

“Just one word. Extinction.”

“Is that it?” The voice replied.

“Yes, I’ll hold and wait for his reply,” Every journalist was given a number of codewords that could be used to cut thru red tape and get right to the top. They were only to be used for news items that were of the paramount global importance, for news items that could prevent a major global catastrophe. If misused then the journalists career was over. I didn’t care. My thoughts were interrupted by a mans voice, I assumed to be Andrew Collins, “This better be worth it,” his husky Texan accent growled.

“It is sir. It’s about Lucy. I know what she’s really up to, and its not helping us.”

“Do you have proof of this? Everywhere in the world is rejoicing at the news, hell everyone is ready to sign up here and now. The proof better be titanium plated?” The stern question was almost shouted at me.

“Yes sir I do. The day he died, the director for the camps recorded a confession and the truth about Lucy. He recorded it on tape and sent a copy to me.”

“Hmm, and this isn’t just the ramblings of a man under stress, he did commit suicide after all?”

I summoned up my most persuasive voice, “No sir, he gives explicit detail only he would know. Sir, if you have thirty minutes to spare you need to hear the tape. If you want to fire me, that’s fine. But if I’m right then the world has to know, before its too late. I didn’t exaggerate in using the extinction codeword. We have so little time, listen to the tape please,” I almost begged him!

“Ok, get I’ll get someone to get it,” was the reply.

“No , I’m in a plague camp. There’s no time. I’ll play it to you down the phone. It won’t be top quality but you’ll be able to hear it.”

“Ok,”

I clenched my first, yes! I grabbed the player and put the phone on top of the speaker, and pressed play.

The news didn’t get any better on the second time of hearing it. Carolyn, and Pat came in a couple of times, but I waved them away. Andrew needed to hear this in its entirety and without distraction.

After the tape had finished, I picked up the phone and asked “Sir?”

Andrew was clearly shaken to the core “I, I don’t believe it. How could we have been so blinded? What do you want?”

“When the president does his broadcast I want you to cut to me instead. I will play the tape live on air, and add what I have learned. It’ll be a full exposé on the whole thing.”

“I can’t just cut out a presidential broadcast, what about the other networks?” Andrew replied. It was a big ask!

“If the president gives permission for Lucy to do what she wants then that’s it we’re fucked. There’d be no stopping her! I’ve tried to get thru to the White House but they don’t believe me. I’d like you to try and persuade the president not to speak. Give the air time to me. If he won’t listen to me, maybe he will listen to the CEO of the world's largest news organization! Pull in every favor you owe. You must know how important this is!”

There was a sigh on the phone, followed by several seconds silence “Ok, we’ll do it. Make a copy of the tape ready and give it to the front gate of the camp. I’ll send a chopper over to pick it up and drop it off at the closest news station, we’ll then encode it from the tape and download a copy via the net. You realize that Lucy will come after you the moment this appears on screen.”

I took a deep breath, “I’m counting on it!”

There was a moment silence on the other end of the phone, “You’re a braver man than I.”

“Thank you sir! Oh and one last request if everything is set with the president and everything, I want the 4pm news headlines to be about the weather. I’ll set my camera up to the satellite feed and wait for you to call.”

“Good luck and god speed Matthew,” was the sad reply. He knew I’d just signed up to a suicide mission.

“You too,” I put the phone down.

Now I’d done it, I’d really done it now! What in hell was I thinking? I’m not up to this kinda crap, especially not facing down a being of Lucy’s power. Was anyone?

A thought struck me, the prophet! Of course it all fitted! Over the past few months she’d been preparing me for this, she knew what was going on all along, but just didn’t have the details. It’s just a shame she didn’t live to see this day. Another thought struck home, Lucy killed her! The prophet was too much of a threat. The last of the remaining intercessors would pose a massive problem for Lucy. Lucy had to kill the only person on the planet able to stand toe to toe with her and win, and do it so as to catch her unawares. Unconsciously I fingered the bracelet that the prophet had given me as a gift. I still remembered feeling honored as she told me it was over a thousand years old.

If the prophet couldn’t withstand Lucy, then how in hell was I supposed to? What was it the prophet told me, “My job was to stand in the breach of the city walls, and to prevent the enemy from coming in, no matter the cost. We loosed a terrible foe upon the world, and it broke down the walls of our humanity, But it must not pass!” The prophet’s dying words struck home, “Take Authority,” and, “This far and no further!” For the first time in my life I got down on my knees and prayed to however many gods I could think of.

At five to four, Pat, Carolyn, and I gathered around the TV set to see if Andrew had managed to do what I’d asked. The countdown to the 4pm news began and as the clock read 16:00 the newsreader said, “Hello and welcome to CNN. In an unusual turn of events the temperature in California exceeded that of the seasonal mean. This news and the rest of the day extraordinary events coming up on CNN.”

“Well that’s done it!” Pat said.

“Sure you want to go thru with this?” Carolyn put a ‘paw’ on my arm.

“No. But there is no one else. Someone has to stand up to all this”

My phone rang, ”Matthew here!”

A thick Texan accent drawled down the phone, “It’s all set Matthew. I’ve managed to delay the broadcast by an hour. You’ll have the first stint and the president the next. You’re on at 7pm. “

I checked That gave me four hours, lots of time.

“One last thing.” Andrew said.

“What’s that?”

“Nail the bitch!”

“Who’s that?” Pat asked.

“We’re on at 7. The president will react to whatever happens here,” I just hope he knows what he’s doing!

“You realize that Lucy will not take this sitting down. She will respond,” Carolyn said softly.

“I know. I’ve spent the last 2 hours thinking about it. You know what?”

“What?” Pat asked.

“I prayed, can you believe it? Me, Mr skeptic journalist, I actually asked God, whoever that is for help. I figure what have I got to lose. I also realized that the prophet taught me, more than I thought or even believed. She was preparing me for this, I’m sure of it now. I’m as ready as I’ll ever be, don’t ask me why I know. I just do.”

“We have four hours to kill, what shall we do now?” Carolyn asked.

“I’ve some cards in a drawer somewhere, fancy a game of poker?” It’d give me a chance to practice my poker face for when Lucy turns up.

Pat gave a smile at the irony of the situation. With our species on the verge of extermination or enslavement, with a horrific and painful death in front of us, we actually played games.

An hour before the broadcast I had to get ready. The hour just flew by. Pat and Carolyn tidied my desk for me and tried to make it look as neat as possible. They tested the tape player and left it in my easy reach.

I sat down in my worn swivel chair and waited for the red light to come on in the single camera facing me.

Pat was watching CNN, ready for the cue. As soon as the news reader said “We now go over to a special broadcast by CNN reporter Matthew Robinson in Camp Anderson.” The red light flicked on. This was it!

“My fellow Americans, and citizens of this world we call home. I know you were expecting the president to speak to you, but, for the moment you need to hear what I have to say. What I am about to tell you of is of global importance.”

I took a breath of relief, no Lucy so far!

“Nearly all of you will have seen the remarkable footage of ‘Lucy’ and her offer to the world. Of how she intends to help us, rid ourselves of the plague in return for giving those affected, like me a home in the wasteland that was the East coast of the USA.”

Here goes, “I can now reveal that this offer is bogus, a trap in order to fool us into giving it, Lucy what it needs. I will also reveal that it was Lucy who was behind the terrorist action that blew up the island of La Palma and so caused the Apollyon mega tsunami. She was also behind the terrorist acts performed in the USA over the last few months, including the car bombing at Bloomingdales a few weeks ago. Not only that, but it is clear that Lucy is behind the plague that has afflicted us all for so long.”

I let this sink in for a few moments, “Don’t take my word on it. This is a tape recording of Lucy’s boss, the director of plague control and confinement. This is his confession he taped right before he committed suicide a few days ago,” I pressed the play button. I glanced around, still no Lucy!

“My name is Geoffrey Cook The National Director of plague control and confinement. This is my sworn confession and last will and testament. I can confirm I am of sound mind and body. I don’t have much time, but the story needs to be told.

I’m sitting in my office, waiting for the massive tidal wave to hit the East Coast of the USA, nothing, save a miracle will stop millions of people from being killed. It is a tidal wave I blame my weakness for producing. My fault that I was not strong enough to stand up and be counted. My fault!”

The voice tailed off for a few moments, as though the director was composing himself and then continued. “Everyone remembers when the plague first struck. How in an instant hundreds of thousands were changed, and millions followed soon after. We all remember the panic that set in and the collapse of law and order that followed. Now we’ve managed to claw back some of that law and order, but the impact to society remains. During those early dark days I was asked by the president to set up a department that would firstly contain the plague, and then work with the other departments on a cure. This I did to the best of my ability.”

There was another short pause.

“I remember working late one night, I’d given my excuses to my wife and family and was struggling in my mind as to how we could contain an epidemic that had affected millions. Then in front of me appeared the being you know as Lucy, and I would later name ‘Curse’”

“Curse, claimed to be the being behind the plague. That she had caused the changes and would continue to do so, for our own good. Naturally I didn’t believe a word of it. Curse also claimed to have the power to reshape nature, to alter any creature or plant into another creature or plant. To demonstrate her power she turned the pot plant on my desk into a small mouse. Right in front of my eyes it shifted from plant to mouse.”

“Curse told me, that mankind was dying an inch at a time. Our genetic pool was stagnating, that within a hundred years infertility would be running at 90%. Within two hundred years mankind would die out. Her task was to revitalize the gene pool, to give mankind the bio diversity needed to survive and evolve.”

There was another pause. I could almost hear the director draw breath, “Curse offered me a deal. If I was to help her, do as she asked and most importantly keep her secret then she would spare me and my family. We would be immune, and be left unchanged. If I did not agree then she would visit upon me and my family every physical and mental change she could dream of. I was too scared to say no. She tried to give me some comfort by stating ‘A few must suffer if all are to be saved.’ She told me that if she had let people volunteer, then not enough people would be changed in order to save our species. She had to do it to people without their consent or we would all die. She lied!”

“I had seen every report of the devastation that the plague had caused to people’s lives. Every day I lived in fear of it happening to me, my wife or my young children. I hope someday the world will forgive me, but I made the deal. I agreed to a deal with the devil in order to save my own family. I wasn’t even allowed to think about who Lucy really was. She said she’d know. I believed her!”

I could hear the sound of sobbing on the tape, a minute or so later the shaky voice of the director came on again.

“So I gave her a job as my assistant. It was Curse’s idea to form the camps, that way she had all her ‘people’ in one place, and we could start to bring law and order back to the country. In those early days I believed that Curse had an ultimate goal of our good in mind. It was that thought that helped me sleep at night. I had no inkling at all as to what she was really like, or what her plans were, until now!”

“When the camp system started to break down, it was then I saw Curse for who she really was. She had no remorse, sadness or even compassion for those lives she was ruining. She lived for causing as much despair as possible. I also learned a little of her past. I think somehow she regarded me as a pet, someone who she could manipulate on a personal level, and that by confiding in me she knew my feelings of being powerless would grow and fester. In that she was right, but I was too weak to betray her.”

“According to her, Curse was given power and responsibility over the shape and form of all living things. She refused to say who or what gave her that responsibility, only that it was now an irrelevance. Curse could do anything within her remit of power, but in order to move outside of that she had to obtain permission, authority from the owners of that domain to do so. That is why she needed my permission for her to work with me, she couldn’t force me to. I had to agree to it. I guess it was like branches of the government. I couldn’t use the national guard unless sanctioned by SECDEF for example.”

“I believe that curse needs the permission and help of others to work outside of its remit. That of being able to alter the form of any living organism.”

The director let that remark hang for a while and then continued, “I continued in our agreement, hoping that I could somehow restrict what curse was doing to the world, by limiting what permission people gave me, and therefore her to do. I tried to get others to take responsibility away from me, in the areas of research, supply and I even tried to oppose what she was planning for the camps. In other words by limiting my own authority, I limited her ability to operate against us.

Remember Curse can only take what is given to her, only do what is in her authority to do. Her authority extends to changing animals and plants into what she wills them to be. Not taking territory, not imposing her will on others and not take what is not hers to take.

Sometimes my plan worked, others times it didn’t. It was the only way I could fight back without her destroying my family. I felt that left unchecked then she, it would cause more harm that it was doing now with me as her slave. I was buying time for science to find a cure for the plague then Curse’s power would be broken and I’d be free. I held my tongue out of fear, but also out of the hope that some scientist somewhere would find out how the DNA was changed and find a way to stop it. In short, I was trying to limit the damage as best I could… I failed..”

There was another pause.

“I really felt as though I had won, when we discovered the Prion that seemed to cause the changes. I knew Curse’s mechanism, the vector she uses, and so we could combat it. Getting people out of the camps and restoring hope again was my greatest triumph. However I believe Curse created the Prion, and the subsequent evidence required to prove the Prion was behind the plague, in order to fool us, to raise our hopes, only so that when then fell, they fell higher than ever before! I really hoped we’d found the break I’d been hoping for, for so long.”

The director sighed, “As we all know that triumph was short lived. Two months after the people were released, and then there was another massive wave of changes. It looked to the world as though we had failed, that the cause would never be found, and that it was the plague victims who still carried the disease. We only had one choice; those affected must go back into the camps, probably for good. It was then clear that she had created the camps to cause fear in the population of going there, and misery for those already in place. The executive orders in place today are in place because we were not strong enough to argue against her. They were her idea. Nobody could think of a better way than what she suggested, and I was too terrified to speak out the truth. The riots and almost civil war caused by these executive orders; in addition to the terrorist acts she orchestrated had the effect of causing the government to dig in its heels and not let the people out. With each atrocity the terrorists and militia’s carried out, the more stubborn the government became, and so played right into her hands.”

“Curse needed more and more people to go into the camps, so that more and more strain could be placed on the country. Thus, creating stress, fear and terror throughout the world as conditions declined almost on a daily basis. Her real goal for the people in the camps was enslavement, not freedom!”

“Then one night several days after the event, I realized that Curse had allowed our hopes to be raised, had somehow given us the glimmer of hope in finding the prion, and letting people go back to their loved ones. Curse then had bitterly dashed them by changing as many people as had first been changed when it first started. It’s objective was now clear, to cause as much distress as possible.”

“Curse told me the Geas were tailored to each persons deepest fears, and even their physical form was affected by their inner nightmares. Curse didn’t need permission to change people physically and sometimes mentally they were already within her domain of power.”

“Curse also seems to have a plan for those she has changed, I’m not sure what it is, but I know she never does anything for no reason,” the voice on the tape was full of sorrow.

“This brings me to today. Curse came into my office an hour or so ago, looking like the cat who’d got a years worth of cream. She switched the TV on and asked me if I’d heard of Cumbre Vieja. She then turned the TV on and she counted down from 10, and ended with ‘boom’. A few minutes later the reports of the Mega Tsunami started to come in. Curse was reveling in the pending destruction to come, and it became horrifically clear that she had somehow planned it, that she was behind the terrorist group that had detonated the nuke inside the island. I don’t know what purpose she has in mind, only that she will cause and delight in the deaths of millions. If I’d have known she was planning this I would have spoken out sooner, instead my weak mindedness and stupidity have destroyed us all”.

There was another pause.

“I’m sure Curse is no being from another world, there can only be one thing she can be, and that is a Dark Angel, A demon from Earths past. Maybe there are documents in some old library or vault that gives us more details. I hope someone cleverer than I can find them. I’m convinced that the key to defeating her lies in the past, if only we can find it!”

There was a long pause, “Curse and I have just had an argument. She has gone off to watch the wave hit the coast, leaving me alone to wrestle with what I should have done. Who knows what would have happened if I had said no to her deal, betrayed her the moment I knew what she was really like. I suspect nothing would have changed. She would have killed me, and taken my place. With the only difference that the small victories I won, would have become utter defeats and more lives would have been ruined. It’s that thought that kept me silent, that maybe I’ll have done more good than harm. At the moment it seems very much the opposite. I do know that when she comes back, she will more than likely kill me, or change me. I’m not going to give her that pleasure!”

There was another gap, as if the director was contemplating his actions.

“I’m sending this tape to Matthew Robinson of CNN, but I’ve also written it down. Hopefully the paper copy will divert Curse long enough for this tape to get out. I’m running out of time. If she makes you an offer, learn from me and refuse it. Do not give her permission to do anything, for the moment we do, we are all lost and enslaved to this creature. Last of all don’t make my death an empty one! Tell my wife and family I love them dearly, and I am so sorry. I tried to do the right thing. Tell them I love them.”

There was a click and the tape ended. I glanced up and Lucy stood in front of me, just out of camera shot she gave me a wry smile and slowly clapped her hands in mock admiration. Amazingly neither the cameraman, or Pat or Carolyn could see her. Lucy stepped forward so she was facing the camera. It was then that the cameraman, Pat and Carolyn could see her. Their faces dropped in horror and dread.

Summoning all my courage I said, “Hello Lucy. I was expecting you.”

Lucy gave me a stunning smile, “I don’t know why you believed those lies, they’re not true. My offer to the world still stands, send those affected by the plague to me.”

Anger welled up inside me. It filled me with courage that I never knew I had. “No chance! I was once told that it only takes one good man to stop the destruction of a city. Now, with the power and authority of the heavens behind me you shall not prevail!”

Lucy gave me a look that was pure venom, “What do you know of power? You still think in terms of territory, money and influence. True power is nothing of the kind. True power is being able change reality with a single word, with a single thought. Those who want true power should follow me to the wasteland that was the East Coast, those who want to be more than they are should join me. If you want to live in a world dominated by fear stay where you are if you want to be part of that power then come!”

Strangely I was unaffected by the evil standing in front of me. My boldness grew. The prophet was right, All I had to do was stand in the breach and proclaim “This far and no further!” I heard the words come out of me, yet I hadn’t intended to speak.

Lucy glared at me. I was speaking a language she understood. “This broadcast is at an end. My offer remains. Goodnight,” She snapped her fingers and the camera blew apart in a shower of sparks. One of the sparks touched the cameraman and with a horrific scream he instantly turned to ash.

“Pat, Carolyn, get out of here!” I screamed.

“No I’m staying,” Pat answered back and tried to run to help me. Suddenly I felt tired, as if I was drifting away into nothingness. What in hell was going on?

Carolyn screamed “NO!” and tried to drag Pat away. Her superior strength prevailed and he was pulled to safety. The feeling of disorientation faded as soon as it appeared.

Lucy turned and glared at Pat and Carolyn. “Hah! the bit players can watch. You thought that the world would see me as I really am if I turned up and tried to stop you. As you can see its just you, me and the pawns in the corner!“

Suddenly a wall of translucent blue fire shot up from the ground cutting me off from the exit and from any possible help from Pat and Carolyn. I should have been terrified but I stood my ground. This creature had caused the death of millions, ruined millions more lives “THIS FAR AND NO FURTHER!” I snarled.

“And what are you going to use to stop me?. I see no holy sword in your hand? In you I see little faith, not enough to cause me harm.” There was a blinding flash and Lucy’s form melted and reformed.

A massive winged creature, black scaly and from the depths of hell stood in front of me. In its eyes I could see depicted the pain and fear of countless lives taken and destroyed. If evil had a face it would be this one. A dark oppression swept over me, my mind was assaulted with images every dark act, deadly, perverse, evil and murder. My mind wanted to run but my body was unable to move. Something made me stand my ground. A kind of righteous anger rooted me to the floor. This creature had stretched its authority too far. Taken ground it should not have, taken it, because we mankind in our apathy and ignorance had let it! “THIS FAR AND NO FURTHER!”

The creature stretched out its hand and I saw a ball of white hot fire form. This was it. With a roar of anger it threw it at me. Instinctively I reached out my right hand, and screamed as the fireball struck my hand. The bracelet on my wrist glowed blood red, I felt a blast of heat and then it all went black.

Curse +923 Days 19:43 PST Pat's story - Aftermath

I saw Lucy appear right in front of the camera. This was it! I readied myself to attack Lucy if Matthew needed some help. I wasn’t sure what I could do, but any help was better than none.

Lucy repeated her offer, being as persuasive she could. Hell, even part of me believed her! Matthew just stood there, as if daring her to get past him. I missed the first thing he said, but a phrase he said struck me to my very heart, “THIS FAR AND NO FURTHER!”

Without warning the camera exploded, killing the cameraman and Matthew was begging me and Carolyn to get out. I was desperate to help Matthew, do anything to save his life. Even at the expense of my own. We needed Matthew! Suddenly I felt a feeling of disorientation. I looked down and could see myself as though I was floating a few feet above my head. I willed myself onwards, so I can stand with Matthew against the evil that invaded the room. I saw Carolyn grab my arm and I felt a snap as somehow I was dragged back down into my body again. I struggled to make it happen again but Carolyn dragged me away from Lucy and Matthew.

Lucy somehow created a wall of blue fire between us, leaving us unable to help out. Lucy’s body then dissolved forming some kind of demonic shape from hell. “We need to get help,” Carolyn hissed.

I nodded and we both ran out of the hut. That feeling I’d had, must’ve been me trying to swap places with Matthew! Carolyn touching me had somehow bought me back.

We both had only run a hundred yards or so when there was a massive explosion, that ripped the hut apart, sending debris in all direction. I heard a deafening, other worldly shriek of rage and we saw a dark, hideous shape fly up from the fire and then it just seemed to fade away.

“Matthew!” I shouted and ran to the remains of the burning hut. I expected the worst, but saw Matthew’s body un-burnt but seemingly lifeless lying on the floor, “Get me some water!” I cried out, to the gathering crowd. If I’d only managed to swap maybe I could’ve done something.

It took an hour to quench the fire, but amazingly Matthew’s body remained untouched. When the flames had subdued, Carolyn and I ran towards Matthew and to our astonishment he was alive!”

Curse +923 Days 19:58 PST - Maki's story - Choosing sides.

I watched Matthew Robinson’s broadcast with great interest. The so called director’s story was a curious theory. But I’ve never gone on just theory. The fact is, is that Lucy or whoever she is has just given all of us affected, hope, and the offer for us to share in what she can bring to the world. If it’s a way of getting rid of this awful, grotesque body I’ve had to endure for so long, then so be it. The technology she used to terraform the east coast was amazing. I go with what science can prove, not some mystical force for evil.

Lucy clearly has the power to change things, and she’s offering to share it with us. If other people choose not to, then that’s fine. I’ll go off and live in paradise, I hope I can persuade my parents to come as well.

The president has just been on the TV. Apparently he’s turned down Lucy’s offer at a federal level. But if people want to go, then it’s down to them personally. Everyone else can go home, the Prion was the cause after all and so it’s safe to let people out.

One week from now, all those who want to join Lucy in her paradise can. I think I can stick this hell hole for another week. I think the presidents sitting on the fence on this one, but at least it allows me a chance to get my life back again. I’m also glad he doesn’t buy into this demon thing that Matthew was going on about. This feels so right, so perfect, going with Lucy has to be the right thing to do.

I can’t wait to go and share in whatever Lucy has to offer us!

Curse +923 Days 23:30 PST - Pat’s story - Choosing sides.

Matthew regained consciousness a few minutes ago. Nobody can understand how he survived the explosion, let alone the fire; but everyone is glad he did. He was a little woozy at first, which I must confess I find quite understandable. It’s not everyday you face down a creature from hell and survive. Carolyn and I had sat by his bed for the last few hours.

“What happened?” I asked him, when he was felt able to speak.

He blinked, and gave a moan, “No idea. One moment I was as mad as anything at Curse, determined that no way would she push us any further than she had already. The next she, it, threw a fireball at me.”

“That must have been what blew the building up,” Carolyn added

Matthew coughed, his throat was burnt a little from smoke inhalation, “No shit, you think!” He added with a smile.

“How come you lived?” I asked. This was the million dollar question.

“I don’t really know. The fireball hit my hand, the one with the bracelet that that prophet had gave me. It glowed red and then I passed out! Curse? Was it killed in the blast”

“You think the bracelet saved you? As for curse, no, it flew away. I reckon it knew it couldn’t harm you so it pissed off, ” I couldn’t see how it could, but something had stopped Curse from killing Matthew, something drove it away!.

Matthew coughed again, “The prophet was most insistent I take it. She told me she didn’t need it anymore. She told me it was forged from a sword that had driven away great evil a long time ago.”

“Hmm and she was able to be killed without it!” Carolyn added.

“That doesn’t explain my courage, and how I felt about it. I just, just knew that if I stood my ground I would win. I knew I had the power of good on my side, and that no matter how dark things got I, it would prevail. One might call it a matter of faith,” Matthew sounded puzzled.

Carolyn sounded excited, “If we knew if it was this ‘faith’ thing, the bracelet or both that withstood and fought off Curse then we have a chance to fight it!”

“That’s it!” I exclaimed. “My god we have a weapon! We have a weapon we can use against it!”

“What did the president say, did he give it permission!” Matthew rasped.

I shook my head “No. He was very clever about it. He said people could go if they wanted, but at a federal and government level he said no. He said he can’t stop people exercising their freedom of choice but that the government’s decision was to refuse Lucy, AKA Curse’s request to send all those affected to her, and to refuse to share information with her. He believes our story, I’m sure of it. He’s buying us time. If he’d have come right out with it, then Curse would run amok and then fuck knows what would happen.”

“What of the land, the territory she destroyed?” Matthew asked.

Carolyn butted in, “He’s let Curse have it! Now my heart sank when I heard this too BUT, This is the clever bit. Only Lucy, Curse, whatever can restore that land to being anywhere near habitable within a hundred years. So he lets Curse terraform it, and when we kick its butt back to hell or wherever it came from, that land is ready made for us to rebuild on. She does the hard work for us! ”

Matthew nodded, ”Yes that fits. Curse needed a single event, so catastrophic that it would throw the world into complete chaos, so traumatize us it would make us desperate to accept any help at all; and therefore more open to its offer when she made it. After Apollyon hit we were ready to sign anything to stop the deaths. It also needed land in which to establish its kingdom. It knew countries wouldn’t just hand over enough land to house millions of people so it destroyed that land to make it useless to anyone but itself..”

I shook my head, ignoring the feeling of blonde hair on my shoulders. Lucy had, had it all planned out. Lucy proclaims herself the savior of a mankind on the brink of extinction. In fact she’s almost the devil and is the cause of it all!. Those in the camps are desperate to go somewhere better, everyone else is desperate to get rid of them so they can start to rebuild, and Lucy has a ready made home for them, a home that she killed millions to create, like wiping out vermin so you can build a house where they used to live. That#s all we were to it, vermin to be exterminated and manipulated! The magnitude of the evil made me feel nauseous. All I could say was “I see.”

Matthew looked thoughtful, “I remember the prophet talking to me about things having a certain scope, a domain and needing to get authority to work in others. The director had worked this out as well. Now Curse couldn’t just take the land she’d destroyed. It still belonged to the US Government, and only the US government could give it to her.”

“Shit! Which the president has just done!” Bastard, he’d just given the devil, or least a close relative, thousands of square miles of land in which to do what it liked with.

“Remember, Curse can only affect animals and plants, not take territory. That’s also why she needed the terrorist group to set off that nuke, she had no power to just to make the volcano blow up! I bet she was behind the executive orders, she needed to make sure as many people would stay in the killing zone she was setting up! She still needed people to submit to her and do it! I suspect she manipulated their minds, giving each one a Gea that suited her needs, to make them more malleable to her wishes. Shit, maybe that’s what the Geas are for as well, to make us easier to control!” Matthew’s voice was starting to go. I offered him a glass of water, but he waved it away.

“So why did Curse need us?” Carolyn Asked.

“Easy,” Matthew added, “What’s a kingdom without subjects? We all felt drawn to what Lucy was doing. I did, we all did! Even when we knew who she was the idea was very attractive. I’ve no idea what she was planning to do with us, only that by leaving it up to us, the president has reduced the size of her kingdom by quite a lot! As you said, Pat he’s bought us time. I bet he doesn’t know any of what we’re talking about, but his instincts would be buy time so he can act on good information. First rule of war, choose the time and place of your battles.”

I had a sudden flash of inspiration, “I’ve got it!!”

“What?” Matthew asked eagerly.

“I know how we can beat it!” I exclaimed.

“How,” Carolyn hissed excitedly, her whiskers were twitching like they did when she got excited.

“If the bracelet Matthew has on, managed to stop the attack from Curse, then there must be other objects, mythical objects long lost or forgotten that will do the same. The prophet told you it was forged from an ancient sword. What if we find the remains of the sword, or at least the metal that was made from it? What if we find out where Curse came from, and how she was released. She’s not always been around, otherwise this would have started years ago. If Matthew’s faith experience, I dunno what else to call it, allowed the power in the bracelet to flow and protect him then the same can happen for the other items.“

“You’re talking about magic?” Carolyn looked at me incredulously.

“I guess so. But it seems to be more than just the artifact. The bracelet didn’t stop the prophet from being changed in the first place. It only protected her when she had the ‘faith’ required to make use of it. It’s not just the items, its both! Maybe the artifacts act as a kind of mental booster for this faith thing. Without the object we have nothing to focus on. Aw hell I’m just guessing here.”

“Who believes in Magic anymore?” Matthew asked.

I shrugged, “Nobody, we all put out faith in science and our own cleverness. We need to unlearn science and learn to use ‘magic’ as well. We use Science to find what mechanism Curse uses to change people. She must re-write DNA somehow, Science can find that out and so we can prevent it. Faith, magic of whatever will be the shield and the weapons we use to kill it. Sure as anything no weapon we have today can hurt it. There must be something somewhere that can!”

“You’re right! We’ll need an army to go looking for anything we can use to kill it!” Matthew exclaimed. I could see the excitement in his eyes.

“Yeah. Where were going to get an army from?” I said. Damn! It all sounded such a good idea.

Matthew gave a smile, “Here! US!. Curse didn’t get to keep us! We use us, the ones who it changed to go looking for anything that will kill it, to teach people how to defeat Curse, just like I did! Now I know I didn’t kill it, because you told me it flew away. But it knew it couldn’t harm me so it left to find someone it could! If we can teach everyone else how to do it, then its got no chance! And besides it deserves payback for what it did to us!,” Matthew gestured at the bulges his breasts made in the bedsheets.

“Right!” I punched the air. This was it. Curse may have several thousand square miles of land, but mankind was wise to its workings. Curse had limited resources and a limited scope of power only if we let it. We know what that scope is, so we can restrict it. We have a fighting chance, at last!

We were interrupted by an orderly bringing a phone in, “Matthew it’s the president. He wants to thank you personally.”

Matthew gave me a look as if to say, Shall we tell him?

I nodded. We would need serious resources to do this, only a united world against Curse could prevail. A single country is not enough!

Matthew took the phone from the orderly, grinned widely and said “Mr President. Before you begin, we have an idea. We think it will work, but it will take some time to get moving. I hope you’re sitting down..”

Curse + 1826 days - A Call To Arms

Pat stood holding his wife's hand. He glanced around at the thousands of others filling a packed Dodgers Stadium. People of all kinds, Centaurs, Avian's, TG's, psychics and even a few norms. They were just like him, handpicked for the task ahead. There was an air of expectancy, and of optimism. It was a feeling that Pat had almost forgotten existed.

The president walked onto the large platform and stood on the rostrum. On the large video screens around the stadium, Pat could see the president prepare himself to speak. He knew what he was going to say, as Matthew had prepared it himself. It still made him feel nervous, even though it was the only thing that could be done.

The president started to speak “Ladies and gentlemen, it is my pleasure and even greater honor to be able to speak with you today. Our journey has been a long and difficult one. It is my deep regret that so many lost their lives before we reached this point.”

The president paused for a few moments before continuing on, “As some of you may be aware, a few months ago we discovered the true nature of the plague that afflicts mankind. All of us remember when its true origin and nature were finally revealed to us. The contents of the tape were not proof enough, so we followed the leads it gave us. In a long forgotten library within the Vatican, we uncovered ancient documents, written by a Monk called Bedwyr nearly a thousand years ago. They told the story of how one of his friends, Myrddin; consumed by rage and grief unleashed a being from an artifact that can best be described as Satan's version of the arc of the covenant. An 'Anti-Ark' if you like. “

“In the story of creation in Genesis there is this verse. Genesis 1 verse 24 'Then God said, “Let the earth bring forth living creatures after their kind: cattle and creeping things and beasts of the earth after their kind'; and it was so.'“

The president paused to let this sink in, and then took a sip of his water. “Bedwyr thought that is was almost as if God had assigned part of his creation to oversee the construction and development of animals. Bedwyr postulated, what if this constructor and modifier of creatures was one of the angels? What if this angel's sole task was to be able to modify a creature into another creature?”

Although Pat knew what was coming next, it still intrigued him. He just squeezed Carolyn's hand and listened. “Mythology tells us, that approximately one third of the angels sided with Satan in a great war against good. What if one of these was this constructor angel, assigned to assist in the creation of the world? What if this angel was imprisoned inside this 'anti-ark' and was released by this Myrddin? In a titanic struggle Bedwyr and his men managed to defeat this dark angel and banish it for nearly a thousand years.”

The president paused, “These are the questions that Bedwyr asked himself and ones that he managed to answer during his studies. After looking at his research and of the nature of the 'plague' afflicting the world, the cause can only be this dark angel, given the power and authority to change and modify any creature in the world. To act outside of this authority it requires permission by whoever owns what it needs, be it land, money or even people. Bedwyr thought that this angel, we'll call it 'curse' was given the task by Satan to bring misery and despair to mankind by using its powers to change people into what it knew would bring them the most pain. This explains the geas, and how curse has been changing people into forms that will cause the most disruption to life and family. For the past five years Curse has been the tormentor of Mankind. It caused the global catastrophe that caused the death of millions, and has sought to ruin the lives of every man, woman and child on the face of the earth. We will rebuild our cities and our lives, we will, must not let it win! “

The president paused for effect, before changing his tone of voice from that of a teacher explaining a topic, to a general briefing his troops. “We are here today to declare war on the darkness that covers the world. We are here to declare war on the darkness that caused the deaths of so many, on the darkness that caused the Apollyon Mega Tsunami. We are here to draw a line in the sand against it, whatever the cost, whatever the consequences,” the president gestured with his hand, “we will be free! This far and no further!”

Applause started to echo around the hall, picking up on the mood around him the president stated, “We will serve notice to the principalities and powers that mankind will no longer tolerate them. From this day forth, from the people gathered here and listening to me from around the world; the governments of the world are sending you out.”

“Your mission is to read the signs and portents left for us by our ancestors. To search the globe, for ancient artefacts, legends and myths. For anything that we can use against this curse that has devastated and taken so much of our lives. Because the best chance we have for our future, lies in the past. They will also teach us again the ways of Faith, and how to use that faith as a weapon of war!”

“Already, we have located the Ark Of The Covenant and persuaded the people of Axum, Ethiopia to give it up for study. A thousand years ago a monk called Bedwyr showed us the way. Now centuries later it is falls to this generation to take up the battle once more. Curse was defeated once before. We WILL do it again! From now on this is no longer a simple fight. It is a call to arms, a Jihad, a holy war, a crusade!”

The president took a breath, “Curse has given us the very means of defeating it. It created merpeople for us to use to search the seas, psychics to be sensitive to the spirits and thoughts of others, Avians to explore the hard to reach mountain ranges, shapeshifters and bodyswappers to act as scouts. Everyone else is our eyes, ears and hands. By disrupting so many families Curse has made it easier for us build an army! The very things it sought to use against us we will now turn against it! It knows this too well, that’s why we’ve seen the numbers of curse victims fall dramatically away. Every person it now changes is one more solider for our cause. For the first time in a thousand years, it’s running scared!

The thousands of people that it deceived into going with it we will free. Those that unknowingly sided with evil, we will release from their chains. To those who would side with Curse, we the free people of world stand as one against you. We are humanity, united in a single mind and a single purpose as never before!

You will not succeed, we will not quietly lie down as though we are a defeated race. Even it if takes a thousand years we will be free!”

“To paraphrase John F Kennedy. “We choose to face and defeat the Curse, not because it is easy, but because it is hard. Because that goal will serve to organize and measure the best of our energies and skills, because that challenge is the one that we are willing to accept, one we are unwilling to postpone, and one which we intended to win. Though we may fall, the human race must have a chance to continue, free from slavery and oppression. No greater sacrifice has ever been asked of a people. But I ask you now to step forward one last time, one last battle to hold the line against the night. God go with you all.”

Pat's heart lifted, a hope swept over him and the hundreds of thousands like him around the world. The president sat down to a standing ovation. All that had gone on before was past, the future beckoned and after the longest and darkest night; it seemed, at last to Pat that his path was now clear and that finally dawn was beginning to break.

-- oo -- oo --

“Those who chose to join with 'Curse' were the first casualties of the coming war. Trapped behind the barrier it erected around the devastated East Coast of America, very few of those who went in, came out again. Those that did manage to escape were changed forever, never quite whole, and never the quite same again.”

“Mankind went on the offensive on the1826th day of the curse. The Holy war against the curse had begun.

Those chosen to fight in the coming war, the crusaders as they were to be known mission was simple and yet imperative . To find anything on heaven and on earth to destroy the Curse, no matter the cost to themselves, and to train people in the forgotten way of ‘faith’. It was a war that was not about territory, or beliefs, or doctrine, or color but simply of freedom. It was a war that mankind could not afford to lose, it was a war that would prove once and for all, that in all things, faith manages..”

Excerpts from “A Call To Arms” By Prof Richard nee Jane Andrews, Chair Magic Studies, MIT. ISBN 3531235542

END

Please let me know of any comments you have on this story.

Want to Write More Curse Stories?

In the introduction Sam stated that it was his wish that this be an 'open' universe. Here are the rules I used when writing Cursed, so feel free to write away.

Rules.
1. Major Characters are fair game
2. The curse can only change plants and animals.
3. It cannot operate in other area unless given permission by it's owner.
4. Try and stick to the time and place of this first story
5. Sam1am@att.net should have the final say as to what is allowed and what's not

Music And Lyrics.

Enigma                    - The Eyes Of Truth(Matrix Mix)

Marillion                  - Sugar Mice

Marillion                  - After Me.

Marrillion                - The Space.

Marrillion                - What Kind Of God.

Marrillion                - Beautiful.

Spandau Ballet        - Through the Barricades

Christopher Franke - The War