Sci Fi
The Morning Shift
There was only a 5% chance the bite would turn me, according to Google. I readjusted the ice pack on my forearm and continued to scroll through the WCC website on my phone. The Walker Control Commission’s official guidelines stated that, though the chances of “conversion” were small, bite victims were nonetheless urged to isolate themselves for twenty-four hours after the walker attack and to contact their local WCC unit immediately if they began exhibiting symptoms of fever, dehydration or tremors.
By Petra Halbur5 years ago in Fiction
MEDUSA'S EYE
A threat to life can appear from anywhere, at any time! Unfortunately, this wasn't just a threat, but an attack on Earth in 2,394. The enemy that caused our near extinction departed long ago, at least that's what we thought. They took what precious resources they wanted and left a battered, desolate planet in its wake. At last count, some five billion humans and an untold number of interplanetary beings from our galactic federation were lost in the attack. Our weapons and forces were rendered useless against the power, speed and size of their attacking force.
By Robert Schmitz5 years ago in Fiction
Path Finder
My fingers tremble as I press a grime-covered thumbnail against the clasp to open her locket. Shuddering, the breath I hold escapes with a soft hiss from between my lips. The dim light flits across the dull, pounded-silver surface embossed with a dragonfly as the heart-shape pops open.
By BJ Whittington5 years ago in Fiction
Nalah's Toy
Nala’s Pet The first time I awoke to the smell of burnt flesh. My own. I tried to catch a glimpse, but my eyes wouldn’t focus. I blinked again, but a solution was covering my eyeballs, not tears. Something sticky. My blood oozing out of my eyes and mouth. I swallowed. Felt it run down my throat. This is bad. Very bad. I turned my head just in time to catch sight of a drone hovering over my body, screeching like a cat with its tail caught. The whole place was bathed in piercing white light. Like you’d been looking toward the sun, when it sears the back of your skull, makes you see spots. I saw something move toward the foot of the bed. A Squid -like alien. Never saw one before. But this one was floating in air, legs barely touching the floor. Hovering. And worse, there were four tentacle-like arms moving this way and that, applying some goop to my legs. As I raised my head up, our eyes met. I swear the squid smiled. Damn thing smiled right at me.
By James McMechan5 years ago in Fiction
The Beacon
Em woke to the light, as always. She got to her feet shakily, reassessing her surroundings. Nothing new. Grey skies tinted by the constant falling of ash all around. The ground was cracked and warm to the touch, red-brown rock and clay for miles in each direction.
By Raistlin Allen5 years ago in Fiction
The Robotics Team
Breathing deeply and with a dryness in his throat, Thomas paused only briefly while climbing the outside stairs up to his 5th floor coop apartment. The air quality has become worse with the increase in heat and humidity. Most of the time the oxygen is at incredibly low levels and doing simple tasks are difficult to perform. For some five flights of stairs might sound like a lot, but Thomas is young and in his prime teenage years when a boy should be hopping up the stairs two at a time trying to beat his previous record in time. Sadly, these are not the days of teenagers roaming aimlessly through the streets after school, but instead everyone that can work must work. School is not a priority any longer and neither is teenage angst or antics. One would think that after the great technological revolution and the social revolution that followed in the new millennium that the most productive and relaxing years for human civilization would be upon us.
By Christina Atkinson5 years ago in Fiction
The Bone Trees
Marriane woke to the wind whistling through the bone trees. See when trees died, sometimes they left their skeletons behind, branches reaching into the heavens, paused where they had been when the tree finally gave out. The wind rushing through them made eerie noises as if they spoke through the night.
By Jessica Lewis 5 years ago in Fiction
Mortal Fragments
The year is 2052. The human condition has been ripped from the inhabitants of planet Earth. Wildlife has ceased to exist, and humanity has undergone a huge shift in understanding their own mortality. We knew it was coming, but we could never have predicted the extent to which our lives would be irreparably altered. Forgive me for the scientific babble that comes next, but you need to understand exactly how this happened so you may be able to prevent it happening again.
By Jason Mac Nicol5 years ago in Fiction
