God Save The Queen


The harden walls that surround him felt like a prison, a prison that wanted to consume him for his actions that he cannot even begin to comprehend, but the blooming lights kept him attracted yet uncomfortable to glare at. Sitting on a chair right next to a metal table, arms crossed, he had the urge to stand up and look around the room— until the hinges of the door opened and kept him glued onto that chair.

It was a woman who appeared, shutting the doors behind her, and seemed to be carrying a folder of some sort. She had green eyes, but most looked like 6'1 ft yet much younger. She placed down the folder onto the table as she sat down and looked at him with content of knowledge. Finally, she clicked her tongue and opened her folder.

"So, you appear to be a military servicemen yourself. You were recruited back in 1984 as a Corporal, selected for the 23rd Special Air Service Regiment and then retired to become a Case Officer for British Intelligence Service? I assumed?"

"Was a Case Officer. I was transferred for my knowledgeable skills in counterintelligence back in Afghanistan. It was alright, but I hated the Afghanis' since they barely had any intelligence system and we had to rely on American Intelligence at that time."

She didn't reply, it was quite clear that the answers he gave weren't easily as interesting as the folder itself. She flipped through the contents as he briefly gave her his background regarding his military service.

"Mr. Davidson, to be honest, I was expecting someone with an interesting background. But, having to hear the same stories as other SAS operatives, who have been recruited, tell me their boring-story within the field. Now, what can you tell me about the incident back in the 8th of August, 2008?" She turned the pages over to the after-action report filed by Davidson.

"Um, you have the folder; I don't quite need to explain much about that day ma'am." He straightens up, and scratches his head.

"I understand that, but I need to hear words and not read them from a report that can easily be falsified. So, please, choose your words carefully."

"Well, all I know is that my unit had infiltrated a criminal organization in Afghanistan that had been illegally profiting from copied replicas of the Monarchy's crown in the black market."

"I see, what can you tell me about this then?" She pulls out confidential images on the table showing it towards Davidson as he glares upon one particular photo. "Mr. Davidson? What can you tell me about this specific photo?"

"I-it.. was- um, a statue that they have been selling." Davidson crosses his arms as he continues glaring at the photo.

"Or was it?" She fists her hands together and places them under her chin as she squinches her eyes with doubt. "You see, Mr. Davidson, we live in a society that has odd occurrences everyday. People often see things that they shouldn't be seeing- which, I am referring to the paranormal of course."

"What? You're telling me that the British Government has some sort of secret organization that handles the paranormal?" He chuckles and nods his head, but was met with silence from the women who sat across her.

She sighs and begins to compile back the file together into the folder again. Stacking them back together, she sets aside the folder and places a sheet of letter towards Davidson. "My superiors would like to thank you for your transfer to this department. If you have any questions, all will be answered in that sheet in front of you, Mr. Davidson." Standing up, she grabs onto the folder and heads' toward the exit.

"W-wait? What department am I being transferred to ma'am?" He asks curiously as he grabs onto the sheet and too standing up.

She stops and turns towards Mr. Davidson as she opens the door behind her. "Well, welcome to Monarch Security, or Her Majesty's Military Intelligence Section 13. Operative."

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License