Sci Fi
The Dream Merchant
Cress smiled as she slept, enthralled by her dream. It was one of her favorites. She was riding her pony, Windstruck, and they were exploring the woods just across the river from her home. They came across a beautiful little cottage, all covered with engraved wooden panels, each depicting one of the fairy stories her mom liked to read to her. The scent of a freshly baked pie wafted through the air. As she approached the house, she saw the pie cooling in the window and heard her grandmother singing from inside.
By Drayton Alan5 years ago in Fiction
Antihuman
I ate Venkh’s nerve cluster as he watched. It didn’t matter, he had several of them. But still, it was a blow to his pride. Inevitable, however, for hunting so freely in my territory. The ecstatic feeling of his computational lattice assimilating into my system was enough to keep me from shredding him into his base components. Feeling generous, I let him limp away. The loss of a core would be punishment enough, his growth had been stalled for perhaps a year. If a rival of his stature were to surpass him as he was, the balance of power would no doubt change.
By Donovan Bottini5 years ago in Fiction
#8224
Start #8224 By Anthony Arnhold 8224 had never seen a room so ghastly white. The walls were white, the floor was white, the chairs, the table. It was nigh on blinding to have her eyes open, so she kept them shut and pressed her head against the table’s cold metal. It wasn’t much comfort, but it was some - and comfort was in short supply as of late. To be concise, comfort was akin to heresy, blasphemy. “The comfortable person is a stagnant person,” she muttered, wondering if the microphones would pick it up.
By Anthony Arnhold 5 years ago in Fiction
Her Journey
She opens her eyes and sees the sun bright through the broken boards of the attic, sitting up basking in the warmth for a few minutes before looking around and gathering her stuff. Now she inhales the rotting wood smell mixed with old cobwebs and rodent waste. She becomes aware of her reality. It has been a decade since everything happened, three years since she lost her mother, and a little less than two years since her dad either left or could not make it back. She did her routine of checking supplies and realized that she would need to make a run. Without planning, it would have to be solo. This sometimes could be favorable, but it was better not to overthink. Getting a list together, she knows alone she must consider weight and movement. She wishes she had time to plan to go to the camp and do this properly but going to camp, in itself, needed favors. This attic, this life, alone is better than camp and those greasy smells and the creepy treatment of "I will protect you, hun." No, alone is always better, and don't ever get caught two, rules she has to live by.
By Melinda Rogers5 years ago in Fiction
Extranjero
I found it lying in the churned up mud of the road. It gleamed in the afternoon sun. It was a double necklace of gold, two chains each bearing a heart shaped locket. The hearts themselves were joined by a short chain with a clasp. It was clearly a set to be divided between lovers. This one had yet to be shared it seemed.
By Steven Test5 years ago in Fiction
Survive Wisely
The planet survived the plague of 2020; but not the asteroid that followed. In 2022, the plague had finally subdued. As of Wednesday, July 6th, 2022, a giant asteroid the size of Luxemburg landed somewhere in the southern point of the Indian ocean, creating the world’s largest Tsunami wave wiping out Antarctica, Australia, Asia, most of Europe, South America, and British Columbia, sparing Alberta because of the Rockies. From the amount of gas expelling off the asteroid as it broke into the earth’s atmosphere, the gas was so toxic, any humans remaining were wiped out by the gas. This happened within 3 and a half days. However, only Southern Alberta was spared due to the strange forces of Southern Alberta Chinook weather. Southern towns and cities, such as Banff, High River, Calgary, Drumheller, Strathmore, Lethbridge-- to name a few.
By L. Knightengale5 years ago in Fiction
Faces of the Future
The screens flashed at midnight as they sat in the dimmed room. “Happy New Year!” The girls of Iota Delta Iota Omicron Tau raised their glasses of sparkling cider as they celebrated the arrival of 2070. Banti77, 4Donna4, and Kar3n stayed in a room at their sacred sorority house on the campus of The University of Mid Southwest Coastal Florida. As part of this sisterhood, they shared holidays and many conversations about the past and the future.
By Barb Dukeman5 years ago in Fiction
Freedom is Key
John hurdles over the lip of the Crater, hand in pocket squeezing the small cloth. The round edges of the heart-shaped locket press against his thumb, he thinks of his mom. He slides against the grainy decline; the bottom is filled with a low sitting fog making the Crater a mile wide cereal bowl. As he skims down he’s engulfed in fear and regret, but if it wasn’t so important to their survival he would’ve never done it. The Dwellers are cruel to trespassers, even teenagers, but Zeke and the Roamers would treat him no differently; so turning back is not an option. He just has to make it to the fog. To the Smokers. John never liked the name, but his brother, Will, chose it because he thought it was funny since they hid under the “smoke”. Will is the leader of their adolescent group of rebels. Not because he’s the oldest but because he’s the only one who has a gun. It had 6 rounds when Will found it, but now only half remain. He took it from Zeke’s chambers after he usurped our father’s crown. Zeke has an entire arsenal of weapons he gathered throughout the years, but he was the only one who had access to it. He carried the small Skull engraved key around with him to remind everyone of the fire power he possessed. Although one revolver is nothing compared to Zeke’s collection, Will still hides it away from everyone, but John knows where. The Smokers preformed a somewhat successful revolt against Zeke and most of them made it to the fog. Save the ones that were stopped by the Roamers or the Dwellers. That was 5 years ago and Zeke still hasn’t been able to find their hideout, thanks to the fog and the Dwellers. The Dwellers are afraid of the fog, but they’ve burrowed themselves around it knowing there’s tons of food under all that milk, also adding extra security to the Smokers. No one knows why they don’t like the fog. Some of the Smokers have theories that it’s what caused the Dwellers planet to implode, but John remains open-minded. When that big chunk of their home, referred to as the “Dweller Egg” hit, the fog exploded with the rubble and eventually settled at the bottom of the Crater.
By Ben Manhan5 years ago in Fiction
Call that Karma
Some call it fate, I call it karma. Las Vegas is literally a beach town while Cape Town is the new Atlantis. I’ve heard stories about a place called San Francisco but only in fairytales and urban legends. There’s underwater tours for the ultra wealthy but I would never do it even if I had the money. Not saying I knew there was something down there, I didn’t. I don’t think anyone knew or could’ve ever guessed. Especially not all those rich people, they’re dumb as rocks for thinking their money still matters when humankind is on the verge of collapse.
By Sofia Dolores5 years ago in Fiction
