Sci Fi
The Underworld
Blinking through humid goggles I turned the small item over in my palm. Strokes of rose hued pink, red and gold decorated the tiny item as I began to register a need for air. A small pressure in my temple irked me to move as I resisted the urge to breath in liquid suicide. Sweet temptation.
By Grace Davies5 years ago in Fiction
Space Program
Space Program A Rob C. Johnson Short Story Today was the type of day where you’d often wonder how things would turn out. Today was a day filled with people lined up outside the new place they’d just finished under construction. It was well-fenced off. It was one with the fences topped off with outward hooks, making it hard to infiltrate. The attraction must’ve been huge, which would’ve been the only reason to enjoy these trash-ridden streets of downtown. The trash was my responsibility for having “sticky-fingers”. My supervisor hovered over us like vultures to dying corpses. He stopped and snapped me out of my trance; my moment of clarity of the Space Program, reduced to dashed hopes.
By Rob C. Johnson5 years ago in Fiction
A Heart To Remember
Zaria hasn’t opened her locket. It’s only been two days since she last saw any others and since the appearance of the hearts. August 25th, 2025. That was the last time things were close to normal. Every time you flipped through a channel the news broadcasted the hearts that appeared overnight. Every person in the world had a locket placed around their necks, almost like a curse that was impossible to break away from. There was no way to pry this off and so many others died trying.
By Samantha Soto 5 years ago in Fiction
A Thousand Days
My feet hit gravel and I glance up. All around me are buildings. I’d wandered into some sort of town. Above a nearby doorway, a sign creaks as it swings back and forth in the slight breeze. I shield my eyes as a cloud of dust blows by. I don’t know what city or town this is, but I know one thing is certain: I’m standing in the remains of what was.
By Wyatt Arment5 years ago in Fiction
Lifeline
I owe you my life, whoever you are. Not just mine really. The entire crew of the generational ship does. If you hadn’t sent us Lifeline to guide us here, lifetimes of traveling would’ve been all for nothing. Our ship was barely holding together. It was old, cobbled together from mismatched parts from systems never meant to interact and jury rigged to within a micron of its life. In the end, it had to look like a flying scrapyard.
By Jasmene M. Ramirez 5 years ago in Fiction
Beyond Eden
Outside the walls of Eden, the world was barren. Nothing could survive in the dry, cracked earth beyond the oasis. No greenery could grow, no animal could thrive. Beyond Eden, beyond the handful of colonies scattered across the world, there was nothing but the Wasteland.
By H.M. Wheat5 years ago in Fiction
Better Angels
He’d almost worn it smooth. The once-fine embossment had ground away in his sandpaper grasp, but none of the luster. Of all the things to make a mirror. Wrapping the fine chain twice around his soot black hand, he palmed the heart into its’ familiar groove. He found it hardly even bothered him as he worked these days. So much work, so many days.
By Trick Foley5 years ago in Fiction
Namesake
There she walked on the sand torn road, with no fixed destination in sight. The landscape was desolate and barren with patches of bushels and broken buildings scattered across it. She felt a slight wind, in this dusty brown sky that consumed her surroundings, breeze against her. It felt torrid and was harsh to breathe it in. Still, her determination to press forward fueled her strength despite all odds of survivability stacked against her. Her hometown may have well forgotten about her existence anyways and she wanted no part to live the rest of her days under that oppression. She was a class lower than a pest; a slave to all and nobody. Whatever fate brought to her in this world she would gladly accept.
By Yashpreet Parmar5 years ago in Fiction
