Sci Fi
About Wanting
Ten years had treated the boy she used to know well. He entered the Blue Moon just as the shift she covered came to an end. She decided to stay on and serve him anyway. Would he still recognize her? They’d long since left the orphanage of their youth. He was only a month older than her and no longer the lanky teen he’d been when she last saw him.
By Adrian Hollomon5 years ago in Fiction
My slow demise
The sad fact is my attention span and love of sweets cost me. I guess I should have noticed something weird. I walked into the house not even thinking about the oddness of it. I am here, dying, for what, because, well, I am an asshole. I made a promise a fucking pinky promise. I didn't know the little jerk was a sprite who was masquerading as my youngest. Face it when you have twins as the youngest of the family gets taken up into two bodies. In hindsight, it's quite easy to just kinda treat them as one. They share a brain after all. Anyway, a few days ago they were outside playing and I was occupied with my granddaughter. The newest little one. They came running in. Now, looking back I see the malevolence in their eyes and the shrillness in their voices. As their demands made the baby cry and I just wanted to finish up some emails and look through Facebook. So taking a deep breath, I kinda demanded they take turns. So, one of them said, "Well, we want sweets!" "The snacks you know where they are." I am sure it sounded harassed and at that moment I felt that way. I should have, well frankly, I would have known if I was paying attention. "We want something different. WE want chocolate cake!" Now, they had the baby's attention too, and all three of them started screaming for chocolate cake. I was damned if I was going to be bullied by three kids. But, I am damned now. So I pinky promised that little bastard or more astutely the thing pretending to be my youngest. I caught something - a gleaming eyes as he reached out my precious boy's finger, and quite seriously whispered so that the hate was concealed, "pinky promise?" Feeling exasperated I drew in a breath and pinky promised that by the next day I would get them a chocolate cake. They promptly went back outside. This should have sent alarm bells going off in my head. Why well my kids never came in and left empty-handed. They switched it up on some unknown order, but one would always carry the drinks and the other the snack. Empty hand because I remember them standing outside holding hands walking to the back of the property. Then life came alive again. I went back to my day. It gets to bath time, and suddenly they keep telling me not to forget my promise. I got irritated by the reminder by the fifth time I yelled that if they continued to harass me, I wouldn't be keeping the promise. I feel my fingers locking up. It is becoming hard to swallow. I am warning you, pay attention in your life. That is what I want on my gravestone. I caught them whispering that they needed to make me keep the promise. I caught their seriousness. So I stupidly doubled down on the fact that I will keep my pinky promise. We will have chocolate cake or similar BS. I did try, but I didn't realize who I was promising or for what. Sometime during the night, something I mistook for my son came to my bed. I have a vague recollection of him telling me that if I didn't fulfill the pro use I would have to make a choice. By the time my wits showed up, I had just closed the door to their room. I did try to keep my promise, but my boys well, they will never pinky promise anyone ever again. Their promise to the mischievous wretches was sweets for their lives. My promise was for the redemption of that first pinky promise. Well, not their lives but a promise to come to visit the wretches. And we all know that anytime there well they might as well be dead. That is what happened to poor Rumplestiltskin. How I now wish life had worked out differently. My breathing is becoming harder and I can almost look through my hands. I will fade to the other side soon. I doubt anyone will care, I doubt this is anything. There is no way to unfailingly tell my full demis
By Christina Allen5 years ago in Fiction
One Step More
He heavily drug one foot in front of the other, as the weight of the heat danced on the distorted horizon. On and on the figure marched through the sweltering heat of the day. He had been walking for… He wasn’t sure. It had been two and a half days in truth. But the unrelenting sting of the sun had burnt the truth out of his mind. It had burned away the thought of her green eyes, and the last night he had spent in the company of human beings. It had burned away the nightmare that was the last two nights. Burned away the glowing white eyes in the darkness of the decrepit buildings they had taken refuge in. Burned away the screams of the children and the horrible thrashing and tearing sounds that echoed out of the darkness after they were silent. All of it, burned away by one of the only real things that existed here. Heat. With all of his thoughts gone there was only to walk. One step. Then, one step. On and on until… He thought he saw a tree.
By Alexander V. Cantrell5 years ago in Fiction
This One’s For You
Burton stared out of the single window of his one-room shack in between bites of chicken and rice. His rations were getting low, but it would be another four days until he could pick up his share of food: one pound of rice, beans and meat, one gallon of milk, and a block of cheese. This meal was the last of his chicken. He kicked himself for not planning better, but at least he could make cheesy rice. He laughed thinking about that dish. It was the only thing his mom knew how to cook, so naturally, it was the meal he ate most often growing up.
By Bree Alexander (she/her)5 years ago in Fiction
Alpha Control
My alarm sounds different this morning. I blink my eyes in the darkness that is always present in deep space and feel around for my digital watch that was a parting gift from my wife, Gina. My fumbling knocks the watch free from its tether and it spins in front of me in dizzying circles until I snatch it, lifting myself to a seated position as I stare in confusion at the time displayed in little red numbers.
By Kora Greenwood5 years ago in Fiction
Skeptic
When Arin was first assigned to the monitoring of Dr. Jasmine Sherice, he was expecting to walk into a minefield of safety violations and boogeymen. Despite - or because of - the doctor’s genius, her reputation grew into one of fantasy and speculation. Just seven years prior she won the noble prize for her advancement in dementia and Alzheimer’s treatments, but as time went on her studies became increasingly…specific.
By Samuel Tjornhom5 years ago in Fiction
New Earth
Entry 20-175 - It was finally in view. We could see it from Command. It was so beautiful! I have to hand it to Dr. Carla Petty, Head Engineer of SpaceCommand. Thirty five years in space traveling at near light speed and we arrived ten years sooner than expected. I don't remember earth. Never been there, except what I've seen from pictures and movies. Dad always talked about the colors. He was right. The colors are amazing. Much better than this grey and white tin-can that surrounds us. At least the space suits are pink! But there is a difference here that's already noticeable. The star is red. We still can't look at it directly without burning our eyes out. It's brighter than expected, but it is red.
By Sunday Gracia5 years ago in Fiction
Losing Time
Anxiety and fear swarms over my body like a plague. I can't show it. I have to stay strong in front of the ones I have come back to save. But sadly I was slowly losing hope I could save them. Having hope in a better tomorrow is what carried us forward as a civilization. Hoping that the struggles and hardships we faced in surviving after our world was gone, would one day be enough and we could all finally rest. Yet, here we are once again fighting to survive.
By Evelyn Husbands5 years ago in Fiction
Restoring the Mermaids
Restoring the Mermaids There weren't always dragons in the Valley. Nor were there mermaids in the sea. Anyone who hasn't been living with their heads immersed in a bucket of water for the last 100 years, knows that there have been no verified sightings of dragons or mermaids during that time. Back in the Middle Ages they were plentiful and could be found in deep forests and on isolated islands. Today the dragons are asleep deep in their caves, and the mermaids that are left hide deep in the oceans.
By Cleve Taylor 5 years ago in Fiction
