Sci Fi
Our Secret War
We had been fighting the war in secret for years, most without knowing it. Every day was a new hate-filled headline, stories designed to make us fear our own backyards. We were entrenched in a daily rhythm of pitting ourselves against anyone who was different. Our society was a flammable husk thrown to the wind: each passing day was a damp match struck against fate, waiting for it to catch.
By denney wiegs5 years ago in Fiction
Mongrel
Marko could not take his eyes off of it. It was a thing of beauty, being devoured by the most horrendous sink hole he had come across this week. Glinting in the hard sun, a piece of metal the size of a useless bottle cap was caught on a broken piece of wood.
By Vanessa Whiteley 5 years ago in Fiction
Nefarious' Heart
I was always the sea. I don’t know what came before me, but I know what came after, and I know what came after that after. This sea is a metaphor for something far greater, but if I told you what it was now, you would absolutely lose your sanity. So, I think, instead, I will trickle the story until the day when you are ready to learn the truth. Yes…we will get there eventually, but today, I will start by stating my introduction.
By Colette R Cichon5 years ago in Fiction
Mr. Carlisle's Secret
“If you have nothing to hide, you have nothing to fear.” Those were the words etched on the precinct door. I was one of the few left old enough to remember when it said “To protect and serve.” It’s been almost 50 years since they mandated the implant, and nothing has gone unseen since. No moment is hidden, no sight is sacred. In all the world, there was only one secret withheld by common people, and that secret belonged to an old man by the name of Jonathan Carlisle.
By Gabriel Cronn 5 years ago in Fiction
The Living Buildings
Dana ran through the pine brush, trying not to split her raggedy bindle of goods. Perhaps this area had once been known as Oregon, or maybe it was Idaho or Nevada. All those labels were irrelevant now, as the entire countryside outside of a few coastal fortress cities had been the creatures’ hunting ground for two decades.
By Edmund Barker5 years ago in Fiction
Two Years In
June 28th 2021 Hello darling. Can you believe it's already been two years? Two years since we became something. That something wasn’t exactly specified but we made one thing clear: we weren’t sleeping with anyone else besides each other. I love thinking about the months that came after that, the warmth in the air, the drinks we had with friends, the “playground rules” that you followed; which entailed never actually telling me you loved me but only showing it with your charismatic bullying. Two years ago, it was the calm before the storm, the one time that I felt calm and rested but also excited and exhilarated. It didn’t last very long though, did it? Because a year and 6 months ago, the universe couldn’t handle what we had. The world woke up and ate humanity whole. It chewed us all into a bloody, hopeless pulp. When I ran into your old roommate, they said you were asleep when it all happened. Which would explain why you weren't with me or calling. Not like phones were of any use at the time anyway. It all happened so quickly, it was like one second there was movement and the next, there was nothing. I imagine that you couldn’t have slept through the whole thing. Perhaps your roommate didn’t want to tell me that you were in a lot of pain before you were lulled into the deepest slumber a person could go into.
By emily mejia5 years ago in Fiction
Mating Call
Seventeen minutes. I can’t mess this up. Seventeen minutes. It’s all the time in the world. That’s what Dr. Pritchard said. If I can just walk over the right way maybe she’ll fall for it. Maybe she’ll accept the heart-shaped locket. The key is not to walk too fast. You can’t succeed if you look like you’re in a rush. But it is seventeen minutes after all. We’re all in a rush.
By Dmitriy Gelfand5 years ago in Fiction
Death and Beth
I remember thinking about death alot when I was a kid. Maybe it is because I grew up watching..."it"...all happen. I suppose that thinking about death wasn't all that uncommon before the great calamities. Hell, you read Shakespeare and you think everyone had a boner for death.
By Nicholas Michael Barr5 years ago in Fiction
