Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Fiction.
Humanity - what a riddle
You, like everyone else, stay away from me; You walk carefully on this tightrope we call life — hoping you won’t have to make that choice on that day during that time with that person in that place. You stay oblivious. You claim autonomy, you fight for it, SCREAM for it, bleed for it - but you blame outcomes on fate, on authority you do not own, on others because, well, it is what it is, right?
By TheyCallMe_Ritz5 years ago in Fiction
The Great Nuclear War
I was beginning to think it would never end. The sound of sirens every single night, people above screaming in fear as they ran from the explosions. I didn't dare open up the hatch to take a peak... all it would take is one person to notice and my bunker would be overwhelmed. The mega rush of crowds trying to breach the door, the families screaming to save their kids. It would have been absolute chaos, more so than it already was. I couldn't even save my own family, my own flesh and blood. I tried to warn my wife that it was coming but she just wouldn't listen, told me I was delusional. She was up in Denver visiting her mother when the first bomb hit. Obviously the primary target was Washington DC but after that first explosion... the entire US was on high alert, no-one could enter or leave the town they were currently in.
By Ashley Bainbridge5 years ago in Fiction
RUIN
It’s midsummer 2054,one year after the “incident “. What was a bustling city full of life, has now surrendered to the swamp-like greenery and the incessant song of the cicadas. In a few short seconds it takes RUIN to appear 13 floors below, she contemplates the content of the metal safe. She kicks open the safe ; the contents spill at her feet.
By Sandra Ferrara5 years ago in Fiction
2321
The sweat from Madeline’s brow dripped in perfect rhythm as she studied the holographic map display of what was once the lower levels of the San Antonio Rivercenter mall. The concept of a mall is now foreign to a second-generation retriever. Society has long since enjoyed the enclosed markets and entertainment hubs. The building now holds housing, makeshift clinics, a community of sorts; however, this particular community is hording something that Madeline and her people need desperately; an energy source. The small can sized nuclear batteries were once described as science fiction, yet the need to make them a reality was apparent after the first worldwide power outage in the year 2071. It wasn’t until the power remained off, when the world knew it was too late to change their ways.
By Anthony Diaz5 years ago in Fiction
Finger Paints, Finger Prints
You find Ma in the kitchen using one of the donttouch knives to slice a bunch of carrots into little strips. “Ma, why does it smell so bad?” you ask, wrinkling your nose the way you do when Ma drives past the dump and the smell crawls through the glass of the windows into the car.
By Emily Gaines5 years ago in Fiction
The Throne
The Throne looms over the world, forever empty it’s purpose long ago fulfilled. It watches the bipedal creatures which created it go about their endless identical days. When they were imperfect each of their days would be different, sometimes only slightly but different and disgustingly unpredictable nonetheless. They wished for comfort, an escape from stress created by the drops of chaos which made telling the future impossible. The Throne looked upon their desires and smoothed out the jumbled lines of probability making it so each day mirrored the last. But still the creatures were not happy.
By Max Popowich5 years ago in Fiction
Dateline: BUREAU VERITAS Industrial Revolution Party (IRP) News Bulletin
It was to damn early in the morning to be this optimistic, after all, the world was falling apart. Or blowing up. Either way, the news reports were wrong – the earth was not okay. Just Party propaganda. Their version of events - I had to get the hell out of here.
By CURT TRUMAN5 years ago in Fiction
The Botflies
The Prologue: The Omega, The Moonuva, and The Glowing Marble The Moribunda Desert, still hours away from the cool dark of night, or dead time. Time was treated cruelly in the desert. The day ran for 120 hours straight, and night for half that. It was eons of dunes, and her caps a liquidy radioactive green in contrast to its goldish trunk, and stretched so far it was almost ubiquitous. The slippy sand was as big of a pest as the bot flies that tackled and twisted around the donkey’s ass. Something must’ve died there. The heat was a rippling cloak, an illusive mirage, emulating the hypnotic waves of the seas. Mikal and Zane, were slowly wading candle flames, wandering silhouetted slumped orangutans in the thick of the mirage, and if they were capable of getting heat stroke they would’ve been dead by now. If that wasn’t bad enough, there was the rare but bizarre chance of falling into the enigma of these deserts, that is, the random encounters of the deep black pitfalls, so dark the mega red sun couldn’t seem to peek in it. They were the Moribunda’s black holes, and a wrong step could suck whatever, into an unknown hell that even the immortal can’t dig out of.
By Octovo Libra 5 years ago in Fiction
The Stars Above
Part 1 My life has been a series of misfortunes that started long before my birth. In the 2050s, chemical warfare between countries nearly destroyed our planet. Only a few years later, the last departing shuttle to Mars launched. There were never going to be enough for everyone. These one-way trips were named Missions. To make it aboard required excellence or nobility, neither of which my family had. The Missions held the leaders, scientists, and the rich people of the country. People like the rest of us were left to deal with the consequences. With the environment in jeopardy, chances of survival were slim. Impersonation of passengers was impossible. Each candidate was vigorously screened and hand-picked by government officials. Evidence showed project leaders plotted at the first sign chemical warfare was ruining our planet. News broadcasts boasted of a feat unprecedented in human history, as though hundreds of thousands of civilians weren't suffering. My parents, my sister Jane, and my brother Gregory were all I had. I used to believe we were better off. As if the black hearts of those who left would somehow make our planet sicker than the wastelands ever could.
By Danielle Eckhart5 years ago in Fiction
