Sci Fi
Ones and zeros
“The only requirement is that you must include a heart-shaped locket,” read the baseline of the writing contest. Ran stopped scrolling. Somehow this flyer had gotten into his feed. Then it flew away. He halted because it was such a strange word: ‘heart’. “What’s a HEART?” he asked himself, shouting out loud.
By Lola Bunny5 years ago in Fiction
The Earth's Heart
Deep in the dark of the earth, the hole was called the Kola Borehole. Before the final war, for twenty years the Soviet Union dug, they dug until they reached a point where the drill became useless, the high temperatures baking the metal, and so it was sealed. Another 100 years passed, technology grew more advanced, and the Russians had the skills to continue the Soviet’s project. So in secret, they continued the dig, every year going deeper, and every year adding to the skill of their labors. They dug until they reached the center of the Earth, where they reached the space of liquid iron, molten in its turmoil. Pressing through to the center, they removed the drill and put a camera on a heat-controlled device. Dropping the device down the hole, it reached the end point of their digging, a blinding bright light shone through all the molten iron. They moved the device towards it, and for hours it went, until it reached the light. It was a small circular object, the shape and size of a dollar coin. And its color was ever changing, morphing between colors, alive and vibrant.
By Joshua Owen5 years ago in Fiction
Catching Up With Mother
The pink gently curls and peels away, stretching and separating until what remains is a nebulous husk on the plasmic floor. The acids dissolve its gelatin state into glistening roseate fluids. The valves dilate and digest, frothing as they carry the former human skin away.
By Mackenzie Warner5 years ago in Fiction
The Defenders
The rain continued to pound the pavement. It never stopped, and Eve had almost forgotten what the sun looked like at all. She stared out the window, and watched the small rivulets make their way down the glass. That’s what her life had become. A dark little winding road, and she never knew which way to turn. In the background the news broadcast was a dreary as the view, and she wondered why she kept it on at all. It was so she didn’t have to be alone. She didn’t care anymore about what was going on in the world, because hers had fallen apart. Her entire family was gone, and she knew they were dead. She was fifteen years old, for God’s sake. But she didn’t feel fifteen anymore. She used to go to parties. She used to date boys. She used to eat hamburgers and French fries. She used to run on the track team. And then one day it all ended. And now she didn’t know where to turn for her next meal. She had succumbed to hunger, and had started eating things that crawled. It made her stomach churn to think of it.
By Laurie Maher5 years ago in Fiction
Planet Psyop
When the end of the world came, there were over sixty different psychological operations being run on the public by dozens of government factions, so even though I’m living this nightmare, I couldn’t tell you what’s happening. Did aliens attack? Did we start throwing nukes at each other? Did GameStop crash the global stock market and end any pretence of civility between the nations?
By kylebstiff5 years ago in Fiction
Time for Sleep
As you quietly sit in the disturbingly bright white reception of the sleep centre, you can’t help but feel uncomfortable in this empty room with just you and the automated receptionist behind the desk. You think back to when you were younger and how this is reminiscent of when you used to go to the doctors with your mother. There was always that nice lady behind the desk greeting everyone with a smile, you can almost remember the smell of her perfume and how, at the time, it was pungently overwhelming but now it’s something of nostalgia to you.
By Tate Chennis-Colbran5 years ago in Fiction
The Low-Tier Thinker
“Getting them done early, I see. Nothing breeds creativity like four hours of sleep and half an energy drink, eh?” Tilsa, slumped at her desk, gazed out her circular window at the contrail-scarred sky, only half listening to the quip coming out of Ava’s mouth. She clasped a ball of her brown hair in one hand as another lazily circled the screen of her tablet. The keyboard spun lazily under it, dancing across the screen with relentless obedience to Tilsa’s uncertainty.
By James McGill5 years ago in Fiction
A Discokid
Ær wishes that for once on Earth, he could take time. He wants to watch shadows grow from the leaning and broken towers that hadn’t scraped the sky for so long, only a few towers now scratched it. He wants to chase shadows disappearing and reappearing in showers of constant lightning strikes. He wants to dance forever enough to know when to leap and land on the thunder or even be allowed to question if it’s possible.
By Alex Munson5 years ago in Fiction
A land of Lethal Sameness
There had never been a more heavenly summer afternoon. The water in the pond that Cole kneeled by was clearer than he had ever noticed it to be before, seemingly beaming at the beautiful day displayed on its surface. Normally, sitting in tall grass would bother him, but today, he enjoyed the gentle brushing of the sweet foliage.” Cole? Where did you go? Didn’t you say you’d be in the yard?” Hearing his mom’s voice piercing through the serenity startled him. “Yes mom, don’t you see me?” Cole says while rising from the ground. “Thank goodness,” his mother sighed. “You just blend in too easily, don’t you?” Cole chuckles. “I’ll come inside for dinner, Mom. It's not like I was going to disappear into the grass.” “Well, it sure looked like it.”
By Jason Brown5 years ago in Fiction
