Sci Fi
Let Them Speak
Prologue I put on the hoodie and leather boots over my day clothes as quickly as I can. There’s no time to waste if I want to have it back to Papa. There’s no way he can take care of Isabel and me if he can’t speak, and stealing this is the only way he will be able to. Still, I feel a twinge of guilt, but remind myself that I am only stealing for Papa and Isabel. They have needed me since Mama left. I am the only one who can get Papa what he needs. I flip the hood over my head and get moving.
By Mikayla Brumbelow5 years ago in Fiction
Reaper of the Barren
The Thief was running for his life across the hot sand. The cliff faces of the gorge offered some shade but it was always hot. I knew he wasn’t going to make it far. He looked as if he hadn’t eaten in about three weeks, plus the wound I gave him slowed him down drastically. It was nothing personal. It's just the way it is out here in The Barrens.
By Jake Darragh5 years ago in Fiction
Heart of Atlantis
Honestly, I think that I’m a magnet for the destruction of civilization and I’m not exaggerating. Five months ago, I survived the apocalypse, brought on by a severe meteor shower, along with my sister and a few other random people we’ve found since leaving the doomsday version of NYC. I know what you’re thinking – that doesn’t make me a magnet, but that’s the second apocalypse that I’ve survived. The first, which I happened to find out about from my mom on the night this current destruction happened, was the fall of the great underwater civilization known as Atlantis. Apparently, my real parents were the rulers of Atlantis and after some mercenaries found the secret city and attempted to enslave everyone and steal the technology, I was sent ashore on some hi-tech submarine to survive while my parents sacrificed themselves to destroy the invaders and keep the city a secret. It became a secret ruin since the city was destroyed along with them because in order to ensure my survival, they sent me ashore with the very thing they needed to keep the city alive – The Heart of Atlantis. It’s basically the life source of the people and the technology in a small silver, heart-shaped locket. I was found and adopted by a couple from New York, along with the locket and a letter explaining how I got there. So, I basically found out that I’m the heir of Atlantis… who just stepped in the remains of some decaying animal.
By D.J. Bullock5 years ago in Fiction
Please Remain Seated
The receptionist stamped the document twice, and slid it back through the opening in the glass. “Hold on to this. It’s the door to the left, take a seat and don’t walk around or talk to anyone. Security will help you if you have any questions.” She rattled the script off like she’d said it a hundred times, already looking past me to the person behind in the queue. I sensed this was my cue to leave, and hastily thanked her before taking your hand and heading through the door. Your shoes squeaked noisily on the linoleum. The receptionist hadn’t looked at you for the whole interaction. Perhaps that’s how she managed to do her job.
By Olivia O'Shea5 years ago in Fiction
An Unending Vigil
Hetaeres stared out numbly at the wasteland in front of him, an expanse of ash covered hills, snow and scattered trees. The ash and soot that had been falling from the atmosphere had finally settled down, allowing Hetaeres to see further than he usually could.
By Damon Rooney5 years ago in Fiction
The Great Game
We were human once. We were human when the world wasn’t filled with creatures who clung to the shadows, afraid of the sky in the day and the night. He was the reason we had become this way. It had been years, decades, a century maybe since his arrival. No one was sure exactly when, in fact, nobody knew what he actually was. For all we knew it could have been a man-made machine, an alien, whether from outer space or the devil from hell itself. Either way it didn’t matter, it doesn’t, and it never will; he existed, while this race of ours was gradually thinning into nothingness. Soon, I thought, there would be nothing. No people, no life, just a silent earth to survey peacefully. And only after each person was gone (those who would let themselves be seen in the open) would he leave. Although, most people wouldn’t believe this. As if it were that easy; to remain hidden behind our feeble bricks and underneath our rotted roads and ancient constructions, to simply wait him out. I however, wondered the opposite, if he needed only to wait for our starvation. This was the impending doom that awaited us as we played the game, merely stalling our eventual departure. I still felt however, like many alive then, the basic instinct to survive.
By L. A. Romano5 years ago in Fiction
The Hoard
Those damn meat sacks - they did it again. They put down another two of the newly enlightened. We all have to eat; the hunger is too driving. On top of that ever driving need, now a tracking band of meat has started cutting us down. They just don’t understand. We try to tell them: to guide them, but all they do is grunt, stab, and kill. One even tried to get me today but the heart shaped locket of my own meat sack days tangled in its arm, raring from me the last vestiges of my past now forgotten. The trinket that now lays open where it was ripped from me, a smiling group of two large and two small meat sacks: a vestige of something once so familiar, now a relic unrecognizable. The artifact remained ignored, overshadowed by the fact that I had saved that horrid meat sack that tried to end me.
By Gregory sillins5 years ago in Fiction
Surviving the Collapse
Reika panted as she ran through the forest, her strawberry colored hair flowing behind her in the wind. She had been running for what felt like an eternity, her legs felt like jelly and as if she would fall over at any moment. She was running on pure adrenaline, that and her basic survival instincts. She ran and ran and ran and kept running, refusing to stop despite her aching lungs and sore feet practically begging her to take a break. She refused to be caught, she’d survived far too long in this world to just give up now.
By Alex Pennington5 years ago in Fiction
The Burden of her Birthright
Hatima sat in a wooden rocking chair under the make-shift window at the farthest corner of her room. The hole she carved in her dirt wall allowed small beams of moonlight to stream in and streak across her floor. She wanted to remember every detail of this moment— the rustling of the leaves as they twisted and turned in the gentle, autumn breeze, the roar of the evening fires, the concert the crickets were playing just for her—as this could possibly be her last night in the village. Hatima closed her eyes, focusing desperately on the sounds that surrounded her, allowing her racing mind to slow just long enough for her to fall asleep.
By Bree Alexander (she/her)5 years ago in Fiction
An Escape
I was eighteen years old when it happened. Two point five million people worldwide...disappeared over night. Some called it a rapture. Others said it was alien abduction. Either way, the world would never be the same. Whether it was aliens, God or our government, the disappearances lead to unrest. Cities burned, riots overtook the streets. We couldn’t agree before Armageddon. We certainly weren’t going to agree now. Next to rebel was nature herself. Forest fires, earthquakes, you name it. Countries started blaming each other, which of course escalated to...nuclear war. Like Oedipus, we used everything in our power to avoid our doomed fate. Yet, those same means of prevention in turn sealed the very fate we tried to prevent.
By Jacob Viness 5 years ago in Fiction
