Adventure
Her Face, and Her Faces
Death comes for us all, in a multitude of manners. It’s like a snowflake: no one death is quite like another. Terrance Michaels had lost his wife Penny instantly—in a car accident, one second here and the next with your Maker. Thereafter, Terrance always hoped to be prepared for the end. At least for a few minutes.
By Titus Willis5 years ago in Fiction
The Book of Destiny
Corym was exhausted. He had been studying for his final exam all night. Once he passed it, he would be a professional environmental engineer. He’d stop the human race from destroying the earth. Or at least, that was his dream. He only had a few hours left to study, but he was hungry and wanted a nap. The most important book he needed to review, “Mastering Environmental Sciences: Creating a Sustainable Future”, was finally available at the library. It had been checked out for weeks. This was his last chance. He would quickly scan the book during lunch.
By Alex Blackstone5 years ago in Fiction
The Martyrs
"Live or die?" The simple question caused the sea of once-quiet people to turn into wild animals, screeching their answers in hopes to be heard. My attention was not on these thugs. Rather, it was on a young woman who, in the middle of the vast ocean of bodies, stood alone. The guards formed a circle around her, not allowing anybody to touch her. Silent tears fell from her eyes as she glared up at me on the balcony above her. Despite her obvious sadness, she stood as still as a rock as the waves of people moved around her.
By Emily Galvan5 years ago in Fiction
Deadened Eyes
2030 The wind gently brushed Roden's hair back as he walked through the dense forest, his footsteps crunching in rhythm with the woodland wildlife. It had been five years. Five whole years since the "end of the world". Everyone had assumed the ending would be horrible and destructive, like nuclear armageddon or a virus outbreak. It was none of those. What had actually happened was much more surprising.
By Thomas Samoht5 years ago in Fiction
The Symbol
No one knew exactly why this war was started or when it would end. It’s been going on for over a century. The countries that started the war no longer existed and what’s left are warlords and survivalists. The warlords used weaponry and food as a means of power. The survivalist used any means they could find to protect themselves including animals, scavenged weapons, and harsh locations. The best survivalists had compounds that no warlord could break through or siege. Both sets used piracy.
By Chris Purdom5 years ago in Fiction
JOURNEY TO PEACE
Hiding in the corner of the dark room, Eden clutched her mother’s heart-shaped locket tightly to her chest. Her heart was rattling so loudly she could barely hear the voices in the hall as she tried desperately to quiet her breathing. She prayed over and over for them to pass by without entering the abandoned apartment she’d found refuge in. The place was dingy, and the rooms were small, but it offered solace to this weary traveler. She’d wait until it felt safer to move about before she risked taking a badly needed shower. The horrible day and long bus ride had taken a toll on Eden and she badly needed to bathe and get some real sleep before making her next move. Tomorrow she would find her sister and together they would face the madness this world had become.
By Dawn Parish5 years ago in Fiction
Dry Tears
"Have you seen this girl?" A dry wind sweeps into the tavern from the arid area outside as one of two men at the bar question the barkeep. The tavern's dreary atmosphere is disturbed only by the blinding sun shining through cracks in the ceiling. The bartender looks up from his stand at the most well-preserved item in the bar: a silver heart-shaped locket. The locket is opened to show the contents to those opposite its bearer. The bartender inspects the item further. There is a picture of a young girl, no older than twelve, with caramel skin, brown eyes, and braided ponytails wearing a rose-colored dress.
By Christian Gray5 years ago in Fiction
Anaria
Anaria gazed out across the wintry horizon, her fingers stinging with frost. Her breath was a fog before her eyes as she surveyed the countless empty buildings. The setting sun shimmered against the litter of broken glass, twinkling like glitter. Anaria rubbed her nose, warming it against the cold, as she watched for people.
By Juniper Woodstone5 years ago in Fiction
