Fantasy
Prime Viewing
Although the enslaved scientist wanted to help his fellow servants, his mind divined no solution. The relentless pursuit of pleasure by the Primes ruled his life. In their self-centered intolerance to the more general human condition, however, the elite females reveled.
By Karen Madej5 years ago in Fiction
2055
It feels weird sitting here, trying to remind myself how to write. I guess it’s been over 20 years since I’ve needed to. It really feels crazy to stop and let myself think about how it was. I guess I should start by explaining a little more. I’m sitting here now in April 2055, it’s my birthday today, I think, that’s why I decided to take this book from a supply run last week, I thought it might be healthy to express my life. I doubt anyone will ever see or even know this exists, but I used to love writing when I was young, may as well tell my story.
By Rhys Bibby5 years ago in Fiction
The Dangers of the Heart.
“They used to believe I would hold their love for them, as I am a monument of all that is love. But human beings are strange things. They seem to forget that hearts hold just as much destruction as they do life, just as lockets hold as much forgetfulness as they do memories. I am more than just flesh, I am the metal that binds my soul to the chambers of love. I am more than just blood, I am the memories that fill my veins, the ashes that long to be burnt once more. And when the ashes burn, when the metal melts, the sun will find shade in my destruction. I will blaze louder than a heartbreak, I will flame brighter than a kiss. And I will ruin them. I will ruin them all. For a heart shaped locket may seem fragile at first, but it is the heart that beats stronger than a love ever could.”
By Lara Lucas 5 years ago in Fiction
Woman of the Wastelands
If you humans knew the truth about reality, what you think of as the multiverse, it would be so poisonous as to destroy you, shattering your illusions of the worth of everything. But I, a celestial being, the writer of this universe, will let you have a metafictional peep through the 4th wall. Not because I care, but for my amusement.
By Brittany Smith5 years ago in Fiction
The High Keeper - Part 2
‘Is this the home of the Hasufels?’ He asked again. ‘Y-yes.’ My mother answered with a quiver in her voice. The knight smiled broadly, clapping his immense hands together in triumph, looking at me briefly as he walked past me into the cottage.
By Ashley Somogyi5 years ago in Fiction
The Ember Queen's Heart
Havanas had always dreamed of something more; a greater life than what she had. She wasn’t just unhappy with her life; she hated it. Her parents worked hard to provide and do what they could in the city. They took what jobs they could find in their district; which meant working menial labor and odd hours. They spent so much time away from home she barely knew them. Except for when they were home; then she only knew pain, whether it was verbal or physical, at some point it all started feeling the same. She knew that they took out their frustrations on her for the shit life that they were handed. Well, what can one expect when your parents are an interspecies couple? I mean how the hell did a dragolic end up with a human woman? How could they have a child that was born with dragon traits on one half of her body? Either way, her parents had to know that society was not going to be accepting of them and so they ended up in Rana. A city of outcasts and one of the last cities that still worshipped dragons and their ilk. Here they were sorted into districts based on their skill set and of course species. Havanas’s family would have been placed into the industrial district where her father could have been working with the great tinkerers. They could have had a decent two-story house and money to spend and all it would have required was leaving her mom to her own district; but no, her father had to be noble and stay with her mother instead. So, there Havanas was in the third district where you were either a drug dealer, a whore, or overworked and underpaid.
By Luis Omar Padilla5 years ago in Fiction
Weaponizing Love
Journal entry date 11/15/2247. Dreary. Dust and ash still shrouds the sun. An ancient Rolls Royce sputtered past on my walk, striking a bitter chord within me. Fuel is already hard to come by but the Dons and their lackeys don’t give a shit so long as they’re asserting their power and dominance. The rest of us are left to walk or find some other mundane way of transport.
By Zoe Bullard5 years ago in Fiction
Red on Gray
“Is that something?” Dammit! I was hoping she didn’t see it. Of course she saw it! Everything is gray. Always fucking gray and chalky and dry!! The little flickers of sunlight peeking through ricochet off in every direction, failing in its attempts to add color or life to this shithole. Splashing against the depressing background of the ruins, illuminating misery. Yet just like all of us, still trying its best.
By Brandon Hall5 years ago in Fiction
Terraform
The wind kicked up flecks of sand that stung my ankles as I readjusted the cloth over my mouth. The canvas backpack I wore had enough rations for three days in the Out. We had to be back by nightfall on the third day as that is as far as our weather radar could predict. Samara, my scouting partner, had been to the Out before. I had not.
By Devyn Brown5 years ago in Fiction
The Glass Castle
I have seen a glass castle, next to a hill, on the edge of a precipice. I know you have seen it, too. If you stand still, it’s a sight that you can’t miss. When the sun is still shining, and the light is poured in, light abounds still more, but when the dark is abounding, darkness does, too, and permeate all of its floors. And this, dear listener – for readers read books, but listeners hear stories - this is a story of the dark, and the darkness, and darker things still. Don’t let that scare you away, if there are things that can scare people these days, because darkness is not darkness without the light at the end of the tunnel. But enough of me and what I have seen.
By Wordhammer 5 years ago in Fiction
The Girl with the Green Eyes
Tick… Tick… Tick… Tick. A large, handsome Grandfather clock ticks the time forward. A moot point in my opinion. The need for keeping time is long gone. The world is baron, crops have all but died and potable water is becoming increasingly rare. I survived this long…I’ll never know how. Maybe I’m just too stubborn to die, or maybe I was left behind by whatever God let all this happen, or maybe I just slipped past his gaze.
By Tabby Ashworth5 years ago in Fiction
