Sci Fi
Memeing to Midnight
First it was bitcoin. Then it was dogecoin. Then it was doomcoin, a cryptocurrency that’s value was supposedly tied to how close the doomsday clock was to midnight. Not even a real thing, yet non-real things can have realest of consequences if enough people treat them to be real. Make-believe can be a powerful force. But perhaps the most powerful force of all is better phrased as believe-make.
By Daniel Viger5 years ago in Fiction
The Dragon Mines
“Dad. -I still can’t understand.” Daughter steals a momentary look up at me. Then her eyes returned to the gentle movement of the river in front of us, as if the water itself gave minor solace to her soul. A small, winding, nameless tributary feeding into the Mississippi River.
By Daniel Roope5 years ago in Fiction
Chocolate cake
‘I love you the way I love chocolate cake.’ Tristan said. Cinzia laughed and blushed. The way he looked at her made her at once nervous and elated. Every moment together was a risk but, despite everything her intuition told her, she kept seeking him out. She had to be near him.
By Ashley Somogyi5 years ago in Fiction
Scorched
The dying rays of the evening sun cut across the dust-covered remnants of the apartment. Thin lines of hazy smoke wafting from the light-scorched floor, blackened from the eternal rotation of the sun. The light illuminating a metal locket, once a beautiful gold, long since faded. A crack, thin and winding, etched its way from the hinge, ending its jagged path near the center. Swiftly, a sunburnt hand reached from the shadows, pulling the locket into the darkness as the metal began to heat, the skin almost instantly starting to singe and burn.
By Sovereign Scholar5 years ago in Fiction
Searching for A Heart of Gold
I’m getting headaches again. It feels like we are all just animals in the zoo. It turns out the scientist in Israel who tried to warn us about the Galactic Federation wasn’t really so crazy after all. He was actually trying to tell us about the good ones. Apparently, in the same way that humans have “good” and “bad” people, intergalactic beings do too. The “Galactic Federation” are the good guys and the not-so great guys insist on being called “Masters”. We call them “Masters” when they are around, but they're just Phobots. Just Dirty Phobes. They love watching wars and spend a lot of money to sow chaos, and the Galas just keep on protecting us. Our inter-planetary ambitions have finally paid off! Except, human hubris genuinely believed we were the most advanced species in the universe.
By Messtiza Noire5 years ago in Fiction
Hear the Monsters Cry
The sky was an infinite stormy grey. Debris littered the street, the black asphalt peeking out from underneath the carpet. Cars were scattered and left to rot. Their windows shattered, roofs and doors dented, some were even discarded upside-down. Buildings were falling apart, the crumbled mess on the pavement; smashed windows wept razor-sharp shards, leaving behind gaping holes. The most unwelcome of these sights were the corpses rotting in amongst the debris, their putrid stench infiltrating the streets. The sounds of gunshots were no longer a surprise. Wailing, screaming and cries for help resonated through the stagnant air even though they knew no one would come.
By Telisha Reid5 years ago in Fiction
STAR GONE
The last thing that hung in the red little town was a weird insect-like voice that hugged and bugged the closed doors with a dramatic push, and the roads bumbled with vivacity, and everything was tossed up and wild. Then, in the distance you see a car coming, and it keeps its thundering for a long while before coming to a stop at Mission Bay. He entered Mission Bay, filled with white technology and giant flowers that hung in huge vases on the rock walls. Then, you see people come inside the building, talking quietly, all about the same thing, that they only had seventy hours before the meteorites hit their bay, which belonged on a moon, a time in the future. Emerald Captain ordered important messages to the star elites, and everyone obeyed him and does his or her specific jobs. He hired Cake Williams to lead the team past the star grass, which was a term that was known in the red little town to be a space in time where the matter they will pass becomes smaller than they were, and lasting a lot longer. It was known that while passing through space grass, one tends to lose himself in the infinite bored momentum of a feeling of forever that was only stuck for a few years in real-time on the moon. Cake Williams ordered his first assistant, a young Jupiter kid with great big eyes and wearing the color blue, his name was Bleek, to search the long lights up ahead for the pilot's wrongfulness in a stretch in time. "Keep a close watch, Bleek," Cake Williams said. Then the meteorites came and blew everything up, and a lot of people died, and then there was only a few left in the population in town, and there were about forty or so left, including Cake Williams and two of Bleek's seeds. Bleek died soon later in a short mission past the first wave of the space grass. The mission was labeled a stupid mission, a term that was known in the town. The mission talks about the sleeping self passing under the space grass, rather than above, and thus, mirror a small enough piece of time as to render his or herself safe while passing through the grass. But Bleek never made it back out, and Cake Williams was most struck by this tragedy. Then more meteorites came and took out seven more men. They passed through the space grass for fifty thousand years. "When will this ever end." No one dares answer back, not even the dogs. The red star blows red dust into the air and you can feel a small red metal thing drilling into the back of your neck. You will feel this sensation for fifty years, then fifty years more, always repeating. The town never left the space grass, and only three survived the bending's end. Cake Williams was one of the three survivors of the "Thousand-Year Sleep" which was a term that was only known to the three survivors including himself.
By Justin Fong Cruz5 years ago in Fiction
"Absolute Zero"
Dear Diary, My Life wasn’t always this chaotic, you know. Before the emergency alerts came in and before the virus got here I was a normal teenager. A prized student at a good school, decent home and parents who loved me. Plenty of friends who looked up to me, a bright future even I couldn’t imagine. But it can all be taken away from you within a blink of an eye. Hi, my name is Ohara Holomon. And I am one of the few survivors of the virus H296 aka “Absolute Zero”. It hits you within minutes, attacking your nervous system and leaves you fully vulnerable before finally taking all of you for itself. Sort of like a football field sized volcano erupting in the middle of New York City. A complete wipeout without any notice at all. Starts out differently for everyone, some may experience a cough, severe fatigue, and maybe a bloody nose. Others are paralyzed instantly and all motor skills are dysfunctional. But the ending results always seem to be the same. Consumed and lifeless. Many people ignored their symptoms until it became too late. My mother worked on the frontlines of it all. Senior MD biochemist at the local hospital. She gave all she had to try and help find a way to stop “Absolute Zero”. All her attempts made a difference but only for a small quantity of time. Dampening the inevitable long enough for a last farewell. Four months in and countless lives lost. With all of her attempts and research my mother was finally able to complete a Serum that counteracted virus H296. It puts the virus cells of H296 on pause long enough for your fighting cells to attack the problem properly. However before she was able to share her research with the world she too was consumed by H296. All her research now lies within the flash drive inside this heart-shaped locket I wear around my neck everyday to remind me this fight still isn’t over. My mother’s last words were “ Only within the right hands can the truth be safe”. At that moment I had no clue what she meant by that. On the other hand, I’ve learned to conquer things I couldn’t conceptualize. If I allow this research to get in the wrong hands the world itself could go completely extinct. If I get the research into the right hands the world can be restored, and life as we know it can be on the rise for the better. Myself and the others keep isolated within our own environment so H296 isn’t contracted. Despite the fact that we still have no idea how this H296 comes about. But like many others we have our theories. Airborne? Science? Mother nature? Or maybe we are just being punished for all of our bad sins. Questions and statements none of us are able to answer. I’m determined to get my mother’s research in the right hands. Nevertheless I’m also worried that the right hands may not be the right hands to trust completely. Who can you trust when the world no longer has the laws and peace you once knew? Who can you trust with the last hope humanity has? “Absolute Zero” has taken too many lives that crossed its path already, too many families have been destroyed by something we didn’t have the materials to fight. Now we have everything we need to build a better future to learn to become better people. I have a second chance to continue what my mother fought for and I sure won’t waste it. Would You?
By Tanekia Shanice Waters5 years ago in Fiction
Flight of the Broken
A heart-shaped patch of healthy flesh stood out against the burn scars that dotted my upper body. It was where the locket had protected me from the explosion. It was also one of the few parts of my body that was still human. The rest of me consisted of mismatched prosthetics that gave me a hideous limp and hands and arms that only worked half the time. But my wings… my wings always worked.
By Joy Nelson5 years ago in Fiction
Aftermath
The city was so quiet it was unnerving. The only sound Nick could hear was the concrete crumbling under his feet. It reminded him of winter snow and made him smile to himself. The last time he had heard the snow was when he was building snowmen with his children. His hand unconsciously went to the small heart shaped locket around his neck and his mind began to wander as he slowly dropped one foot in front of the other.
By Brandon Brookbank5 years ago in Fiction
