Fantasy
"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
Five Walls of Nunten
To say that the people from Nunten had forgotten what happened twelve years before would be almost true if not for Gellin and his brother, whose memories stretched back before that of their younger brothers who were still approaching the age of adulthood of eleven. Much had changed in the eyes of Gellin, but he was stout and firm and showed little of the world that he remembered. It’s soft hues and great expanses that flowed from foot to horizon; endless seas of twitching grass that swayed and swam like murmurations of swallows, all was now but a memory.
By J.J Stirling5 years ago in Fiction
Doomsday Diary
Left standing in a whirlwind, a scattered breeze, on the other side of the time portal. I found myself looking around to see what I could tangibly recognise in my new reality, something that would anchor me to sanity, a reality I could familiarise myself with.
By grace viccary5 years ago in Fiction
Gravespade
As Death flew through the world consumed by ash, he tried to piece together where he went wrong. Time, for Death, changed when the world had. He used to wander through the space of time endlessly, from puzzle piece to puzzle piece, searching through a broken pane of glass for his own continuity. Time was a gossamer web spun from whatever shape he desired, and remembering this he almost reminisced, but couldn't even comprehend it anymore. Every moment here lasted forever; he could no longer fly freely through the spectrum of his infinite influence. He had none. Time was linear, and he had little else to do. Everything had died, putting an end to death. He was starving. He was going crazy.
By Piper Waller-Staggs5 years ago in Fiction
True North
In the ruin land of the new millennium, after the fall of the Elusive Empire, Adeline, a dreamy twenty three year old daughter of a blacksmith and a peddler, finds herself singing in the halls of what’s left of a destroyed emporium. Adeline sings a song that tells the love story of her ancestors. “Crimson lips, a gentle kiss, forbidden yet bestowed. My hushed lips they do not speak of my lover’s hidden woes.”
By Milly Mercury5 years ago in Fiction
