Fantasy
The OVERSEER Companion Guide
A WORD FROM THE AUTHOR Thank you for reading the Overseer Companion Guide. If you read the Overseer books (OVERSEER: Servants, OVERSEER Guardian, and OVERSEER: Silence), or any of the short stories set in that universe, certain aspects of the story may confuse you, such as how magic works in this world, or how I arrived at the names I used. Fear not! I compiled all the notes I created before and during the writing process into this guide.
By Mark Jefferson5 years ago in Fiction
Habit
Ashes. That’s what woke her up. A soft snowfall of ashes falling over her face as the earth crumbled above with force. She stirred immediately. How long had she been out? Too long, for certain. The bunker creaked with her weight as she crept off, walking to the sink. A girl with a tired gaze and a mess of dark curls stared back. She sighed, washing the grit from her cheeks before deciding it had really been far too long. Time to find Porter. She lifted a trapdoor beyond the main ground and slipped in. A spiral of dark, moistened steps led to the hidden lab, lit just enough with a small luster.
By Luna Shorts5 years ago in Fiction
Annibell's Awakening
Thunder shakes the firmament, rolling down to the horizon from the north to the south engulfing the earth. Then from the shakes of the earth come a shadow that lingered beneath and from the cracks rose the darkness filling the air with gnashing teeth and crimson eyes. Most lands became barren in snow or ash, while other lands became thickets of warped darken trees that eject spores from their roots, thusly could change the form of any living organisms into these trees. All trees bore faces of humans to which smaller wolf-like creatures feasted upon. Yet, most humans remaining, traveled through these parts wearing masks to filter the air. Some humans tried to live in the snow or ash filled lands, mostly the once standing cities to scavenge what might remain. Yet one land most humans hope to get to, stands in Wales, where it all began and where most humans hope to travel to in hopes there might be a safe haven. Although this part center of Wales has a protruding upside-down funnel feeding to the roaring clouds above and a town swallowed by a green mist.
By Buddy Warren5 years ago in Fiction
Morning Star
Earth has rotated eleven times around the sun since the last time a grumble of an engine or a perfectly timed chime from a sky-scraping cathedral greeted an ear. Long gone are the days when colossal metallic wings glided above the horizon, but the swallows still fly north when the sun warms the earth. A decade has passed since aromas from a café made their way to the street with a clink and clatter of knives and platters; but the welcoming, earthy scent of a low burning, homespun fire does at times still dance along the breeze. Days of old hold memories of blue-lighted screens, but communication persists through words spilling from lips. The crunch of a footstep, the swish of a tail, the simple indications of lives being lived continue to illuminate the Earth, which now basks in proper darkness since the collapse of manmade lights.
By Jasper A. Flintsmith5 years ago in Fiction
Heart of the World
The people of Ashka, the village destined to remain abandoned in the desert, were once again preparing an assault. The men raced back and forth through the streets with towels, damp and dry, others running with buckets, full of water, careful not to spill a drop. The women were herding the children into one main building in the center of the village, frantically making sure they were keeping a head count of all the children of the village, so as to not lose a youngling. An elder woman, wrapped in a long gown with grey hair flowing in the winds, eyes covered with a black cloth, shouted as the last of the kids and women were running into the shelter, “Did you find William and Nate!”
By Tremayne Joiner5 years ago in Fiction
The Upper Cradle Galactic Prix
I sat hunched over my strider gazing down into Gransen's Gully, winding up for my warmup run. At this point, I've memorized every inch of the winding terrain, tracing air-dusted skid marks into the minutest corner of the most hidden back alley. A lot of oddities packed into this canyon. One time, I found a camp of squatters who claimed they were sent here to search for the next coming of some god named Hystron. They said the only thing they needed to survive was their faith and the occasional skitter lizard. Nice people, I still bring them lizards from time to time. Anyways, as I’m looking down into the gully I feel a rush of excitement overtake me. Even though I’ve run this gully day in and day out any chance I could get since I could sit up straight on a strider, this would be the first time I was actually getting to compete in it. It’s not every day the Galactic Prix gets dropped on your doorstep begging you to compete against the best in the Upper Cradle. The competition may not have been until tomorrow but I needed to practice like it was today.
By A.C Hofstetter5 years ago in Fiction
Empathy Irrigation
The world didn’t end with a bang. It was such a subtle change, that it took a while for anyone to even realize what had happened. That had been the plan of course, no need for there to be nasty rebellions. Slowly, people began to feel less and less. They devoted their time and attention to devices and forgot what it was like to be alive. Existence was all that they knew. Once that happened, the next phase was put into place. Some of it was just survival, the other part was a gas that was carefully distributed into the air by AngeloCorp. This company was an underground society of the world's elite. This chemical took what had been in the works for years and escalated it. The cloud of existence that people found themselves became all consumed, and many took on sociopathic attitudes. It had brought their selfish impulses to the surface. A good deal of the population was killed as the level of violence escalated. Death by starvation was now common in countries that were once considered prosperous.
By Mairi Brinkman5 years ago in Fiction
The Empty: And the Girl who Saves the World.
We all fantasized of the world ending in a zombie apocalypse, or some other overly cliche chaotic nightmare come to life. And maybe we imagined that particular doomsday because it made us feel comfortable in the hope that the world would recover; that the monsters were flesh, something we could kill. But the real monsters were in the minds of humankind; still living, and breathing, and not feeding off each other’s organs, but our fear. The Apocalypse came in “The Empty”, where we lost our sense of humanity, and exchanged our compassion for hate. The first one to choose this; a man the world saw as our savior led the population to blind themselves from the truth. He figured out how to get us to flip a switch to our emotions, to turn on each other, and forget who we were. A few of us Awake remain, and the rest sleep in their heads; walking the Earth dead in their hearts, and minds, tearing the earth apart in fire and lies. My name is Nakona Wilde, and I am the girl in this story who changes its end.
By Rita Montgomery (Pearl M.)5 years ago in Fiction
Palette
The world was mute. I was walking roads I recognized; but everything felt foreign to my body. Visually everything was in the right place and where it should be, but something seemed off. I was strolling down my old neighborhood. Passing my friend’s house, then my house, an old tree me and my childhood friends would hang out at after school, and a pond close by where we ice skated many cold winter nights. Seeing these mementos submerged me in my nostalgia, until all I saw were memories that were long repressed surrounding me at all sides. It brought tears to my eyes seeing friends I hadn’t seen in decades, feeling as if I never left. I was filled with a feeling of love and warmth, and taken back to a time period where everything was simple. But that warm feeling soon went cold. I opened my eyes to see the color palette of the world had drained. The outline of everything was still there, I was just surrounded by a void of black and white. It was strangely beautiful. I kept walking down my neighborhood road until it intersected with the community park. I loved this park as a kid, it brought a smile to my face remembering all the hide and seek games I played here as a child. Remembering these thoughts and memories were great, but I don’t know why I’m here. It feels as if the world hiccupped and I was placed in an area of limbo. The world was still, and quiet. Almost as if a vacuum were keeping the noises from escaping. But as I was cresting a hill, a little ways away from the playground, I heard the faint sound of a chain creaking in the distance. It almost hurt my ears to hear a sound again. I tried to move but I couldn’t. I was frozen in place. As if I weren’t the one who controlled my body anymore. I was so focused on the fear I felt on not being able to hear, that I didn’t even notice what was in front of me. The creaking of the chain continued, and I was barely able to shift my eyes down enough to see a kid sitting on a swing set. Their presence brought an overwhelming amount of fear in my body. I just knew they shouldn’t be here. That they didn’t belong. They were swinging back and forth, but fazing in and out of static. Cascading pink’s and red swirled around them as they glitched back and forth seeming like a virus to this world. I wanted to go. I wanted to run, but I couldn’t. I went to scream but nothing came out, I was paralyzed. I was filled with a feeling of dread, as if this were the end. I closed my eyes to look away from the bright array of colors clouding my vision, but when I opened them I had control of my body again. I looked around and I was exactly where I was left off before, but instead this time, the world was basked in color. I saw children running around in the playground and families sitting together feeding the ducks. The atmosphere was filled with laughter and car horns in the distance. I could feel and hear again. But then it hit me. I turned to look at the swing set where I saw the kid before, but there was no one there. There was no one there, but the swing was still swinging back and forth.
By James Hochstetler5 years ago in Fiction
Gilded
Hour 1 Sitting up in bed I can still hear them prattling on about the Golden Age. Trading hilarious stories until they erupt into raucous laughter was the only pause to their incessant talking. Before leaving my room, I marked again. I used to count every morning but now I know by heart; it is day 10,036. It’s been 27 years, 6 months, and 1 day since Three Head left us. That’s when everything stopped. The need to eat, drink, even breathe. There is no more night and day, only a dull orb that hangs in the sky providing just enough light to see. We were abandoned not only by our god but by life itself. That’s when we realized we had no idea how to deal with challenges beyond what to wear to the next banquet. All we did was party, lived in excess, and reveled irresponsibly.
By Chrissy Thompson5 years ago in Fiction
