Sci Fi
Guardians of Eras
I have always known that I had a purpose. I mean a purpose other than being born, living, and dying. We all have a reason for being here. We weren't meant to "occur" without notice or fulfillment. The problem is recognizing what it means to be human. Humans were introduced; our cycle set in motion. Our greatest attributes are within us along with our greatest flaws, but few recognize either. We contain a survival instinct that overrules even our deepest desire to destroy ourselves, yet we live in defiance and self indulgence. Clinging to external resources to survive, we reach outward attempting to accomplish and create in order to feel worthy. We constantly seek approval from each other rather than bestow it on ourselves using our greatest gifts. When we fall short of approval or do not measure up, we blame everyone around us. We have self interest at heart, worship Gods for all times while killing in the names of those Gods. We study words and deeds set forth in practice, passed down through history, live by traditions and customs, write laws to govern, and more to govern those, demand recognition for our races, creeds, colors, and symbols, meant for specific groups, used to divide, to separate, and for justification of righteous existence. We do not trust each other let alone love one another. We surround ourselves with networks of unique individuals in which we place a certain amount of faith, love, and trust but look on the rest with suspicion, distrust, and great judgment.
By Melissa Schimke5 years ago in Fiction
When Flashes Clash, Chapter One
Once upon a time, two boys had sat together on the shores of reality and looked out at what lay beyond. This was the Seegs, an endless flat ocean of searing glaring rawness whose terrible white stretched far past the dark horizon where bolts of lightning played. No-one in this galaxy or any other could say for certain whether there was truth in the folk-song that described the Seegs as the place where the universe ended. All that was known was that those who stepped into it never came back.
By Doc Sherwood5 years ago in Fiction
Captain Rydian of the Human Galactic Unit
It was such a simple mission. Go down to the planet and collect data. Simple, right? That's what I thought. My first mission as a Space Captain, and it just had to go wrong. Why me? I did nothing but good work and heroic deeds, yet here I was.
By Lydia Booker5 years ago in Fiction
Love in the Underground, Chapter Two
Phoenix Prime’s wings were the only source of illumination in a compact cave, where the tunnel through which the girls and Kral-it-Gor had entered branched off ahead into two. For some minutes the party had held still, until they were certain from the surrounding hush that they had not been followed.
By Doc Sherwood5 years ago in Fiction
Love in the Underground, Chapter One
From the steep-sided canyons between towering skyscrapers to the rubble-mounds strewn across the battlefield below, Nottingham City Centre reverberated as if in the aftermath of an electrical storm. Office-block exteriors seemed to ring with it, giving back upon the charged and tingling atmospherics all that the shockwave had laid upon them, while ongoing battle-noise gradually warped and echoed its way back from eerie distortions to the proper register and key. Even the air was swimming with residual frissons crackling out their last. Through this static-bath a single small figure moved on a determined course, like the first animal to venture from its hollow once the tempest was over.
By Doc Sherwood5 years ago in Fiction
When Flashes Clash, Chapter Three
Figures were moving, hastening along the tunnel towards the shaft. Most of their faces were those of friends, but this did not stop Phoenix and Phoenix Prime immediately training an energy-weapon and a blazing hand on the one exception.
By Doc Sherwood5 years ago in Fiction
Love in the Underground, Chapter Three
Lightning for his part had been only too aware of the Henry Martin overhead, and immediately prior to entering the alleyway between warehouses had glimpsed her tacking off in obvious search of a landing-place. “Company’s coming, Flashtease,” he muttered grimly to his companion and prop. “Every second’s going to be crucial now.”
By Doc Sherwood5 years ago in Fiction
Shapeshifters, Chapter Three
Professor Iskira Neetkins looked down at the face of Dr. Mendelssohn and thought exactly what her daughter was thinking. Then she eased the control lever back into its housings and brought the all-terrain vehicle to a grateful juddering halt. They had arrived at a long-abandoned mineral processing mill, a solitary pillar of old pitted stone perched high atop a desert ridge. Ancient conveyor-belts, their gears and pulleys corroded together into single metal masses that would never move again, slanted from the precipice into deep empty quarries through which the wind sang an endless lonely song. An edifice of such apparent age could only date back to before the Venusian exodus. Iskira could imagine it out here in this remote place, weathering the day when destruction came to the first Martian civilization. Though the past was crumbled and gone, fragments of it were standing yet.
By Doc Sherwood5 years ago in Fiction
