Sci Fi
The Repository
The white cassette tape crunched, echoing across the silent landscape, she stopped. Ears perked, motionless. The nights were never so dark as they were now and she waited hoping the noise didn’t alert anyone - or anything - out in the darkness. The moon’s position told her half an hour had passed before she felt safe to move again. She bent down and picked up the cracked casing of the cassette and smiled. This was definitely from a bygone day.
By Mary Brown5 years ago in Fiction
Circle of Ruins
The fugitive stood near the edge of the glacier, looking into the distance. Until now, she had managed to stay a step ahead of her pursuers but crossing this part of the Alps on foot had been a mistake. Some distance away a large chunk of glacial ice broke off with a sharp report, sounding almost like the boom of a canon shot. The sun glowed deep red on the western horizon, long rays of orange and gold stabbing through a layer of stratocumulus clouds. Overhead the blue of the sky was deepening into purple and behind her the purple darkening into black. No one had expected the nuclear exchange between East and West to result in decades of spectacular sunsets. Nor had anyone foreseen the cascade of genetic mutations creating powers such as hers in just a few generations. Reaching into her jacket, she pulled something out and glanced at it briefly in her palm before returning it.
By Michael Rinella5 years ago in Fiction
Green Lake
The locket, which was heart-shaped and had once fitted snug as a pebble into Rannie’s hand, now arced through the air, the line of a silver chain trailing behind it like the slipstream of some fallen star. An inaudible splash, barely a ripple, then the same pale green plane of the lake, unchanged, unyielding. What had she expected?
By Micha Horgan5 years ago in Fiction
The Virus
Chapter One It's been three years since the virus. Three years since the fall of half of the population. Times are hard, it's not so much about living as it is surviving. Those who weren't infected have quarantined themselves in colonies, little communities bordered by a thick cement wall, only venturing out for supplies and taking extreme precautions such as hazmat suits and gas masks. Going outside the wall alone is forbidden. Taking off your mask when in the wastelands is forbidden. No exceptions.
By Jade McLeod5 years ago in Fiction
Waver
Swirly gray clouds moved inch by inch across the colorless sky, you could only really tell they moved at all if you were perfectly still, straining your eyes towards the heavens. It was a simple thing, but it was worth remembering that nature continues to move as if nothing had happened. There was flagrant defiance in the slow moving clouds, whispers of arrogance in the full grey sky that teased at rain. There would be no rain, but the sky wanted you to remember, in its own cruel way it wanted you to hope.
By Kavi Warrick5 years ago in Fiction
