Sci Fi
The Folly. Runner-Up in Return of the Night Owl Challenge.
In the morning, he calls a cab for Ivy. It’s a day of low, racing clouds that run dark shadows across the fields. The two of them watch the car as it turns into the drive and scrapes against the hedgerows. The cab driver curses behind the windscreen, then lowers the window, scowling.
By Owen Schaefer4 years ago in Fiction
The Cycle of Life
Wyatt reached over and squeezed Mia’s hand then wiped the tears from her cheeks before tentatively caressing the tiny perfect face in her arms. Tears fell from his red eyes as he felt the cold on his sweet son’s skin and noticed his pink hue was disappearing. Mia grabbed his hand again and held it tight as Wyatt cried out, “He is really gone isn’t he.”
By Viltinga Rasytoja4 years ago in Fiction
Detox LLC.
Devil's On The Details. On March 11 of 2020, the world has declared an emergency state due to an asteroid that was bound to clash with earth. After several meetings and negotiations, between the leaders of each country, they determined the best bet for the human race was to launch a rocket which through magnetism is able to change the course of the asteroid by keeping a trajectory within its range. They made this choice since they assumed that destroying it could just put some countries in jeopardy due to its size. We were advised to not go out during that week. Since this plan wasn't a sure shot, they wanted everyone to spend this days with their loved ones, because "you never know".
By Saymon Rodriguez Montero4 years ago in Fiction
Night Reign
Everyone thinks that being special is awesome. We all grow up with stories about superheros who have amazing abilities which they use to fight the bad guys and save the day. We all are bound to fantasize about what it would be like to be a superhero, to have powers and to save the day. For real life superheroes with amazing abilities, who actually save the world, their reality is divergent. For those who have walked a similar path to my own, the cold hard truth is that being special is not awesome at all, it is lonely. Others will often find that which makes you different, even if they do not know exactly how you are different from them, to be off putting and recoil from you. And often those you help the most will be the first to turn on you.
By Christina Cox4 years ago in Fiction
The Gluu
The Gluu In an unknown place outside of this universe or any other known universe exists a tower. This tower extends up and down as far as the eye can see, the vision of it perplexes the mind. The ethereal stone of the tower is made up of colors that ripple and pulse through it. In addition to this, the tower looks to have sections and each section has a dominant color.
By Xephon Teg4 years ago in Fiction
The Old Man's Barn
Summer has just begun and it is a beautiful, sunny day. I’m a bit of a loner and I like to take long walks in the countryside to pass the time. Today I’m headin’ over to check out the back forty of old Famer Williams field. I’ve never been that far from home but I’m feelin’ adventurous today. Farmer Williams is a kind old man who retired about fifteen years ago. He’s never mentioned any kids of his own, or even a wife, but he does wear a ring on his left hand so I’m pretty sure he was married once. Either way, Mr. Williams is always smilin’, although there is a lonely sadness behind his small, wrinkled eyes. He likes to give me and my friends trinkets when we manage to make it as far as his front gate. So far, he’s given me an old pocket watch and a knife he claims is from the Civil War. We enjoy listening to his stories of being a soldier in times all but forgotten, although some of his tales are pretty strange. We’re not sure if his yarns are real or if he’s just gettin’ a little senile, but it’s a fun way to pass the hot summer days so we all just go along with it.
By Sylvie Smith4 years ago in Fiction
Apex
He ran as fast as he could to hide behind some rusted iron and metal eclipsed by shadow. He was breathing harder than what was recommended to him and had almost collapsed from exhaustion. His heart hummed like a beehive, and he covered the nest inside his chest with his palm. The apex was even pointer now and started to pierce thru his skin even more, as his heart was leaning upon his sternum. His flesh was tender and hot to touch. Heart overcooked. Well done heart, well done the escape, from the brass dogs that had chased him for miles. The police had put a chip into the clockwork canines that matched the blood of the boy. He was at the shy age of 7, and had a lot to learn about his “disability”. I just wanted to go outside and play, he thought to himself, as he bent over and held his knees, crying now. Only small echoes of his voice comforted him. Adam had never felt the artifical sunlight touch his skin, but was only fed vitamins to help with his “condition”. He saw a few kids playing outside from the uncomfortable comfort of his nursery upon the synthetic grasses of the city, and had wanted to join them so badly.
By Taylor Boyd4 years ago in Fiction
IN HER HONOUR
They were so close. So close. An intrepid team of three leaving the clinical safety of their bunker, BELLONA, nestled deep in the old civilizations of man, now decimated and reduced to lost memories and rubble. It wasn’t the first time people had left. Some had broken free, seeking those long forsaken, claiming they could hear their loved ones' voices carried by the toxic air in the world above. Most had only gotten a few meters before perishing, some a little further. Skin and muscle papery and pallid from years of indoor isolation was no match for the noxious zephyrs, but even as their body rotted and eyes went milky with blindness, they were mute. Soundless.
By Ellie Reeves4 years ago in Fiction
Truth & Justice
The old man was sitting in the drivers seat of the rusty ole 1973 GMC pickup truck, the barn just in front of the truck was old, built by his great grandfather many years ago. His gaze fixed upon the family crest, an owl with a human skull clutched in its talons, an axe and sword crossed behind the owl. Hüter der Wahrheit on a faded ribbon at the bottom. He had been taught at a young age that those German words mean Keeper of Truth. He had always kept the family oath of Truth and Justice.
By Vern Setser4 years ago in Fiction
