Sci Fi
Five Minutes
The patter of rain on my window was my alarm this morning, however that had not woken me up. It was the soreness instead that paraded through my body and my head. My eyes fluttered open to peer between the blinds that lay askew looking toward a false paradise against a sullen backdrop. The world boomed centuries after the sun screamed, I remember being told about the bodies our cities were built upon. I squeezed my hand tighter constricting my entirety into my sheets. The bite of silver leaving an impression on my hand as I pulled the chain from my palm. “Five minutes…” my throat felt rough and bare as I uttered those words.
By Kay.M.Raven5 years ago in Fiction
A Terrible Time For New Beginnings
If anyone alive had been around to observe the passage of time, you would learn it was exactly midnight on a Monday in the year 4783 A.D. when a former U.S.A cloning faculty’s main generator failed, and the clones in it began waking up early. Any dieter could tell you Monday is a terrible day of new beginnings, not to mention midnight, an hour of unwarranted things, but humans had long vacated earth some 120 plus years ago, so no one was around to explain all this to the struggling clones. One clone in particular could have benefited from this news. New to life, this clone sucked in the air she instinctively craved only to find herself drowning on the amniotic fluid she was suspended in. Panicked she pressed her hands on the glass she could not see out of and then beat on it when it did not give way to her touch. She was dying; although she did not understand the concept of death, she possessed an innate understand of the discomfort it brought on. She loathed the feeling and writhed to rid herself of it.
By E. J. Strange5 years ago in Fiction
Her Heart
They come all the time now. Can’t stop them. Our world, well it’s gone. Food is scarce. Heat unbearable. Waters rise in Florida. Cover Miami. Volcanos erupt in the North. Earthquakes and flooding in California. We have nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. And not from them.
By Felicity Harley5 years ago in Fiction
Split from Utopia
“No!” Naipotu shrieked in horror as Kashmir’s hands slipped from her grasp and she went hurling into the abyss. “Kashmir! Kashmir!” She yelled frantically but she could no longer see or hear her wife. They shared telepathic energy and were able to sense each other but she could no longer feel her either. Naipotu felt nothing but emptiness. She looked around, her vision still slightly blurry from the debris ridden sky. The sky that was once a vibrant pinkish orange, now appeared to be dark purple.
By Toi McMullen5 years ago in Fiction
Red Strike
The year is 3020. My name is Zen and I have been living underground for five years. I certainly would be dead if I had not been rescued and dragged to a secret bunker. Walking over one hundred miles through swamps and rocky terrain, my handmade aluminum suit provided me with enough coverage to be completely undetectable by eliminating all revealing signals of my location and vital signs transmitted by a single micro-chip embedded into my brain. After the anti-cell phone movement in 2075, the government needed a reliable tracking system, as many people refused to be connected to a network and went off the grid. The practice of micro chipping at birth was aggressively passed into law, however, this was the least of our worries. There were explosive and volatile riots that took place all over the country and many of us died fighting to stop it. The new order military task force introduced itself by stepping in and used sophisticated and destructive weaponry on us that made every other weapon of existence known to mankind look like child’s play. They were able to overpower us and gain control very easily. Most of my family died in these riots. I lost almost everything.
By Aria Bella5 years ago in Fiction
The Locket and the Revolution
As the rain pounded on the metal roofs of the shacks in the ghetto, Princess Hadria sat alone in her room, which was larger than any house in the worst part of the most decrepit little town. She had been there for months on end, unable to even look out the window without risking her life. The window, which was now covered by thick wood planks, overlooked what used to be a beautiful garden that she and her older sister, Alex, would play in together. Hadria stood up and glanced at a picture of her that rested in a frame on her nightstand. As she saw the locket around her sister’s neck, she fingered it and felt the necklace rub against her skin. The locket was made of 24 karat gold, and was engraved with the initials A.S., the initials of the first child of every Szombathy generation. Inside, two blurred monochrome pictures of the founders of Ambrosia could be seen. Hadria looked in awe as she saw how much her great-great-great grandmother resembled Alex, down to the tiniest of details. That one moment brought her back to a time when everything was different, when hardly even a year ago, Ambrosia was a thriving nation.
By Allison Bockus5 years ago in Fiction
Only in April
The Minister wasn’t a nice man. April had realized this not long after accepting the internship. There was lots of yelling at co-workers and manipulating involved in politics. And yes, maybe she had known this before entering into this world - even in her classes at school had she noticed the subtle nuances involved in the political sphere. She was often disregarded for her mostly informal education and having grown up a part of the 99%. Meaning deep in poverty, or as the kids at school would say, “below the line”. But she had proven herself through diligence and tenaciousness. Still, she wasn’t sure the Minister particularly admired or cared about either of those qualities. What the Minister mostly appreciated was blind obedience. She expected she had been mostly a diversity hire.
By Holly Callec5 years ago in Fiction
The Evil Villain DNA
I heard a strange story the other day about DNA. It struck me as plausible on account of the fact that I have quite a vivid imagination, or so people say. Also, I have some training in the biological sciences which helped a lot in this particular case. The story went something like this. What we now know as DNA was actually once a terrible criminal from another galaxy far from our own. All galaxies are actually really very, very far from our own, but don’t let that one small example of imprecise language use cause too much doubt in the veracity of the tale overall. Rest assured, since I am the one doing the retelling, I’ll be sure to correct any further abuse of the language like the one just cited whenever it may occur. This particular criminal was of the extra evil variety, and extra clever too I was told, and he had been captured and escaped many times previously. His judges and jailers were an ancient alien race with almost God like powers. Needless to say they were more than a little annoyed at how poorly their previous punishments had fared. So, upon his most recent capture (~4.85 billion years ago according to what I heard) they desired to design a prison that could not be escaped and would last until time ran out at the end of the universe.
By Everyday Junglist5 years ago in Fiction
She Tried To Kill Us.
I stood at the top of Mount Augus, and gazed intently into space. A supply shuttle should be in sight real soon. Although monitored from the control centre, the details weren't shared for this reason - the event always gave us a thrill to see a speck emerge and grow, and then the delicious excitement of identifying the incoming shuttle. We put friendly wagers on these things: it kept us out of deeper mischief.
By Angie Allanby5 years ago in Fiction
