Fantasy
Nuclear Heartlands
Maya silently waded through the murky water that was now at her hips, the raft she had assembled using an array of decaying objects found on the drylands was now tied to her waist with a thin length of worn rope. It felt heavier as the time wore on, as if she were dragging it through a thick and reeking soup. Bits of plastic and floating rubbish brushed passed her bare legs as she arduously moved through the depths. Maya’s search for food was getting critical, she was hungry. Famished. It had been around three days since Maya last ate, at least it felt like three – the sky never brightened, nor did it darken. She was starting to believe that the whole earth was now shrouded in this murky twilight, covered by clouds that rained ash but never water. She looked up. The black clouds rolled eerily overhead like catastrophic waves. Maya tried to take a deep breath of the muggy air but instead spluttered and coughed as the pollution irritated her air passage. How much more could the toxicity build up before we can no longer breathe? The despairing thought ran across her mind. Maya had traded her gas mask in for food many weeks prior, the remorse gripped her.
By Mariam Manzoor5 years ago in Fiction
Brown's Heart
BROWN’S HEART BY LAQUITTA BROWN 06-29-2021 As the lashes from my eyes struggle to open and I inhale a deep breath accompanied by a deeper sigh, I realize that the sleep I arose from was a privilege and I must get up. This world has been a place of despair for some time now and my best friend Enaid Brown and I have a great routine of dealing with it. We do not understand why humans are evolving into Pallinds which are plant-like creatures but after the bio-chemical war B.A.B.Y. (Bio-chemically Advanced Battle for Youths) that was supposed to control the earth’s population but instead destroyed most of humanity and re-created humans into that species. Enaid and I live with our younger siblings. I am Shatrice Brooks, and my sisters and brother are Tanesha 10, Shana, 8 and Michael 6. Enaid and I are the same age, 18. Enaid has a young sister and brother Reeta 8 and Kermine 7.
By LaQuitta I Brown5 years ago in Fiction
The Northern Wars
DUNKIRK, LEGION Summer, 1E78 Entering the Imperial Arms, Jean and Pierre took a moment to look around the pub from where they stood upon its threshold. Three imperial knights of the King's Legion sat around a squat round table, designed to seat four. Each man sipped at their pint, engaged in what seemed like a casual conversation between friends. Nearby a mercenary sat at the tavern's bar beside a travelling merchant where they spoke together amongst themselves of the troubles in Aenor. The mercenary was preparing to depart from Dunkirk to accept an expedition contract in Aenor to scout out the Eastern Shore from what they could overhear as they approached the bar. The pay was decent- just the typical exploration voyage, the mercenary explained.
By Kelson Hayes5 years ago in Fiction
"Fight Night"
The paint chips fall from the ceiling, as the basement shakes from the thunderous arena we warm up directly beneath. The acoustics of the blood stained concrete walls that entrap the most desperate, echo each strike landed. The rhythm of the arena’s concussions, with vibrations so deep, they penetrate through my ribs like xylophones. It’s difficult to simply catch my breath. I can feeling my lungs trembling on every other breath. Or it may have been from the anxiety from the expected, and especially the unexpected.
By Pablo Angel Castro 5 years ago in Fiction
The Takeover
I was fifteen in the year 2042, when nature rebelled against mankind. Not only normal animals, but other worldly creatures, too. Elves, trolls, dwarfs, vampires, dragons, and any other magical creatures you could imagine came out of their hiding place and fought against humanity’s destructive habits, tired of overpopulation, extreme pollution, and habitat destruction. The human race’s population was brought down tremendously, leaving only three million alive, compared to the massive tens of billions that used to occupy the planet. Those of us that hadn’t been massacred were either sorcerers that had hid in the mortal world, like my mother, or enslaved, like me. Anything that polluted the earth was destroyed, and, through magical means, the pollution levels in the world were slowly brought down until there was nothing left but clean air, water, and soil. Now, it’s 2054. I’m twenty-seven, and the Takeover, which is what the falling point of humanity is now called, feels like a lifetime ago. Almost all the humans I know are still upset about it, and want to fight against these newer, more powerful forces, but won’t because those who have rebelled were put down incredibly harshly and as publicly as possible. Not that I would say this to anyone, but I think that the world now is a lot better than the world was when humanity drove the wagon. There’s virtually no crime, absolutely no pollution, and the earth isn’t getting destroyed by an overabundance of mines and cities. Enslaving humankind isn’t right, because, like every race, we have our own good qualities, but the world is undeniably a better place because of it. I just wish that those of us who wouldn’t start a fight to bring humanity back to power would be freed, if there was an accurate way to pick us out.
By Aurora Lesso5 years ago in Fiction
