Sci Fi

Millennium Symphony
Space can be an empty place and every bit as vast, and whenever you chance upon people—and they seem to be everywhere—you generally find them to be as they’ve always been, insufferable.
By Robert J. Healey5 years ago in Fiction
While You Weren't Looking
Tony stared out the window, frowning, his fingers poised over the keyboard. Barely a whisper of air was floating in from between the half-open blinds. Grumbling, he made a mental note to buy a fan.
By TrivialPunk5 years ago in Fiction
Fallen
You know of the girl in the moon right? That’s a question I hear by my bedside. Every so often. Nearly every night. The room goes quiet and still or so I’ve been told because that’s how the story goes.
By Telicia Darius 5 years ago in Fiction
Betty's Locket
Near dusk, Reverie Miles kneeled before her father’s tombstone and relived her people’s history… The Last War decimated ninety percent of the world population and left most of the planets topsoil stewing in a layer of radioactive contamination that would render the surface uninhabitable for a century. Fortunately for a few G8 countries—particularly the U.S.A.—Deep Under Ground Military Bases provided safe-haven for a percentage of the American population.
By Theo S. Klinkenberg5 years ago in Fiction
The Void
I often lie awake at night staring into the Void above. I imagine I'm one with the darkness and let it consume me. This is the only time I consider my own: the only place where I can find happiness. Ever since I can remember it's been this way for me. Well, since you left it has been. Sometimes... on the nights when sleep never comes I know that I am the Void and everything else I think I am is a lie. It all just fades into the past as I become nothing here and now.
By Fabio Anu5 years ago in Fiction
Miranda 1
WHY? That was the question looming within and beyond the reflection in the full length mirror which drew the slender, diminutive figure contemplating silently before it. She felt like she was forgetting something important. She considered the date: 19 June 2113, Juneteenth...on Earth, anyway. Based on her own experience, the girl in the mirror had long identified with the oppressed people of color who celebrated their liberation from slavery on that day. There were many people who had treated her disrespectfully, deplorably, even shamefully. It was no surprise that those looking for something to hate or fear about her usually found it in her appearance. She sighed gently as she noted her features one by one: her eyes, sparkling and golden like liquid metal, the perfectly symmetrical, delicately feminine features of her face whose bronze-silver skin made her look like a living sculpture, her mane of long, disheveled, black curly locks, her slight, bony frame clad in a form fitting black jumpsuit, and finally the tag sewn onto the jumpsuit embroidered with her name: Miranda 1.
By Jillian Rae Young5 years ago in Fiction
Pierced Heart
There is madness in knowledge. People say that ignorance is bliss, and an unsettling feeling envelopes me as I realise just how right they may be.
By Jake Xagas5 years ago in Fiction
Who Is Huckleberry Baskin?
"Hey, you're up next", the tall brunette bartender smiled as she said it. Huckleberry Baskin nodded his thanks to the bartender and finished his beer. He felt the energy inside him and knew this was going to be a good show. He really liked the bartender, but could never remember her name right before I show. In fact, he couldn't remember anyone's name right before a show. Hell, sometimes he couldn't even remember his own.
By Buddy James Fazzio5 years ago in Fiction
Cycles, Chapter Three
Heroes they were. If Dylan and his command had ever been called upon to prove it, they did so in the second or two when each of the six saw with absolute clarity what route lay ahead for them now. They could neither prevail nor flee, but still, not one among them entertained for an instant any notion of throwing themselves on Harbin’s non-existent mercy. They would fight, until they could fight no more. Even in the absence of hope, that much honour they might yet do the reverend quartet they had striven in vain to save.
By Doc Sherwood5 years ago in Fiction
Issues, Chapter One
It was the sort of situation that really required name-tags, or better yet, convenient captions somehow superimposed over the veritable double splash-page of a scene. Such scattered rectangles for easy reference hanging inexplicably unsupported in space would have been much appreciated by the two warlike factions facing off, neither of which boasted a member who had the identities of all the others absolutely down.
By Doc Sherwood5 years ago in Fiction
Heroes' Reunion
Dylan Cook of The Four Heroes was back. That same dark hair and same warm smile greeted the first well-wishers in an opulent observation-lounge attached to Prof’s sanatorium, Phoenix standing proud by the side of her love. One genius Grindo’s medical ministrations had restored to Dylan even the use of his legs, where Earth-technology would have been unable to do so, such that he walked strongly and without so much as a limp as he moved through the waiting-room shaking hands and embracing again and again. There was laughter, and many tears. To the ever-modest Prof Dylan did his best to express thanks for which mere speech could barely suffice, while James, Carmilla and Flashtease bestowed on their old friend the most joyous of welcomes home in return. Even Flashshadow, who had never met Dylan, murmurously faltered out something unintelligible but no doubt in keeping with the spirit of this happy time.
By Doc Sherwood5 years ago in Fiction
Cycles, Chapter Four
Harbin was ready for blind anger. Measuring Dylan’s clumsy drive he spied the sword’s shatterpoint, and with his forearm reduced that shining glaive to shards. A summary follow-up dropped Dylan prone to the amphitheatre’s surface.
By Doc Sherwood5 years ago in Fiction