Sci Fi
Flight of the Broken
A heart-shaped patch of healthy flesh stood out against the burn scars that dotted my upper body. It was where the locket had protected me from the explosion. It was also one of the few parts of my body that was still human. The rest of me consisted of mismatched prosthetics that gave me a hideous limp and hands and arms that only worked half the time. But my wings… my wings always worked.
By Joy Nelson5 years ago in Fiction
Aftermath
The city was so quiet it was unnerving. The only sound Nick could hear was the concrete crumbling under his feet. It reminded him of winter snow and made him smile to himself. The last time he had heard the snow was when he was building snowmen with his children. His hand unconsciously went to the small heart shaped locket around his neck and his mind began to wander as he slowly dropped one foot in front of the other.
By Brandon Brookbank5 years ago in Fiction
Under The Boot Of Heroes
2050. The ruins of Wrocław were hauntingly quiet on the first morning of June. Broken buildings, shattered churches and ruined neighbourhoods as far as the eye could see. This city was once home to such vibrant culture and life. Now, just rubble and ruin, like many other cities throughout the world. Lyon, Birmingham, Jaipur, Philadelphia, and so many more lay dead, destroyed, made an example of when the True Gods rose to power in 2035. Overlord, their leader, had descended upon these cities, using his raw, god-like power to batter humanity into submission. For fifteen years the world has been under the boot of Superheroes.
By Maurice D. Winterborn5 years ago in Fiction
The Blue Glow of Jasmine
Luca irately heaves the weathered gray journal with the metallic nodules to the back of the rundown tent. Then he returned to digging through the tattered crates and various piles strewn about the dwelling with an anxious fervor. However, hours past sunset the shadows cover more than the dim yellowed light touches. The obnoxious roar and crash of the waves muffle any forming thoughts. The humid dense wind sprays the salted sand past the thrashing frayed entrance. Sweat stings Luca’s searching eye as he overturns the worn throw rug carpeting the ground. A makeshift knife caught on the underside of the woven threads flings loose and sticks in the ground just outside. Winded and frustrated, the tall thin leather skinned man stands to rub his eyes and notices the dark liquid leaking from the side of his hand. He reaches for the nearest cloth, a wholly white and blue “Lone Star Grill” T-shirt, to wipe his eyes and then wrap his hand. Hearing the shuffling of sand, Luca spins around and prepares to use the shirt as a roped weapon. A short stout older black man pulls the knife from its landing spot and enters the tent.
By Angel Chavez5 years ago in Fiction
12 Hours
On December 26th, 2026, World War Three started. No one saw it coming, and no one could have stopped it. It was perfectly planned. You may be wondering how do I know this if we haven't reached 2019? There is a secret laboratory in Southern California created by TWW3 (Terminate World War Three). TWW3 created a time machine, not to travel in the past, but to travel into the future. Obviously, their goal is to stop World War Three. On December 26th, 2018, I flew to Southern California because I was online searching for jobs and somehow I came across this sketchy website. Me being me, I clicked on it and unfortunately, it was TWW3's website. They needed two people for their job and I was desperate at that point in time, I
By Amya Olivia5 years ago in Fiction
11 Hours
" We're gonna die!" Bryson yelled. " Shut up Bryson, just keep running," I yelled. I felt my feet pound against the ground rapidly as my heart was trying to break out of my chest. Bryson and I ran as fast as we could to the portal. All I could hear in my head was if we were going to make it or not. I had to make it back.
By Amya Olivia5 years ago in Fiction
Everyone's Legitimate Gun
Everyone’s Legitimate Gun LTL Sanctuary room A was more packed than usual. It was minutes from Christmas day. Several bunches of families were huddled as close to one another as possible across the cathedral floor sitting millimeters from the next family or lone rogue, or group of outcasts who were bonded together with ties that went beyond bloodlines.
By Laura Tyler Lomas5 years ago in Fiction
Unplugged
"Session logged out. Please lie still while the neurometers eject." The sensors attached to Irez's forehead fell away like the wisps they became when not in use. Every tendril cast its own kind of allure in the great web of the Scape—and everything it allowed its users to access while they were Plugged into the experience.
By Jillian Spiridon5 years ago in Fiction
