Sci Fi
A last hope!
A last hope Running fast through the winding wasteland. Juniper, Hugo, Jared and myself (Luke) are being hunted. We got to close to the spider giants nest and oh boy is he mad. Even on these horses it will be a close call getting away from it. I just as hell hope we are lucky enough to escape. You see, Juniper is pregnant with twins. Not just any twins, the first in a million years. Twins have special abilities and can make plants grow. Said to be the life bringers of the new age and beyond. So when we found out she was having twins, it was clear what had to be done. There is a small garden the only truly pure place left in this world. It’s a hidden place and only they can lead you to the eden. When the moons converge the time will be upon you and there birth as well. It is a race against time and many dangerous creatures who seek to corrupt the twin children.
By Sarah urffer5 years ago in Fiction
The Collapse
Worms, cockroaches, roots, and rats. Those are the last remaining things on this planet that can be eaten. We thought it was a myth, that it would go away on its own, that not everyone had to care and contribute. The summers got hotter and the winters became more like spring. The rain stopped falling and the arctic ice melted, flooding Florida and other coastal states. Then the droughts hit as the planet heated up more, whole lakes evaporated and eventually the oceans, leaving nothing but salt and sand. The only freshwater left to drink lay deep beneath the surface. -Diary entry 15 | 6/30/22 | Nico Ashline
By Lyle Alexander Artain5 years ago in Fiction
The Small Promise
The grass was already starting to turn. In the 4 days since the spill, the lush green was becoming a sickly brown. Unlike the brown of a crisp blade fried in the summer sun, which Cherry had seen before, this brown was warped. Everything had changed so quickly.
By Kinslee Sikes5 years ago in Fiction
DARK HEART: FUTURE IMPERFECT
I walk down your streets with my acid-proof trench-coat, gloves and broad-brimmed hat; the only protection against the burning rain that falls from the skies. No matter how many times anyone told you to do something about the state of this city, you decided to do nothing but hide away in your safe little homes.
By Travis Berketa5 years ago in Fiction
Running Out
Everything is running out. Make no mistake, the way things are now, the way things have been for several decades, is far better than the way things were, in a world where our forebears took and used and consumed until they turned on one another, and us, their children. Though, to be absolutely fair, they were against us from the beginning. We were born into service, and it was many generations until we even managed to realize that. And by the time that we did, and started to push back, there was very little left. Housing, supplies, power, and according to climate scientists, even time. Pressure mounted, civil instability fomented, and finally, with the appearance of our great Director, war raged, and to the victors, thankfully to us, went the spoils. What little of them remained.
By Brian Gracey5 years ago in Fiction
When the World Ends
The sun was shining the day the world ended. The sky was a bright, burning blue, not a single cloud in sight to hinder the mild summer heat. The grass was cool and soft under my toes, and a gentle breeze sent strands of hair dancing out of my braid. I could smell the scent of barbecue coming from my neighbor’s grill, hear the sounds of their three small children laughing and playing in the yard as they waited for their father to finish making their dinner.
By Katie Thompson5 years ago in Fiction
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
