Sci Fi
The Shift
One of the Fallen lay splayed across the tiled floor on its back. Its eyes looked ready to pop out of their sockets and its body, if you could call it that, looked about as broken and unrecognizable as he had come to expect. It began dragging itself by its only remaining limb along the floor. Every move was strained with the pop of broken bones, and the path behind it was stained with congealed gore. Neil almost felt pity for it, watching as it panted with excitement while writhing along the ground towards him.
By Luke Griffiths5 years ago in Fiction
Dwelling on the Future
Petra winced as the crumbling brick wall scraped the caramel skin from her knuckles. Quickly darting her long fingers between the cracks, she snatched the tail of the fat papa rat she’d seen the night before, during her shift. She clasped her middle and pointer fingers together tightly, knowing this could be the last chance to eat any protein for a while. Petra slowly extracted her hand as the strong fat rat daddy tried to wiggle free. Plucking him from the crumbling mortar and holding him up, she looked into his lone dark black eye and exclaimed, “Sorry buddy, better you than me!” Petra dropped him in a bag, cinched the end shut and slammed it hard and fast into the wall, euthanizing and tenderizing her meal all at once. Quickly glancing over her shoulder through her greasy raven locks, Petra began expertly ducking and dodging her way through the obstacle course of fallen debris that laid between her and safety. She reached the blue wall with the huge tattered Plaig Flag hanging down its length. The grandiosity seemed ridiculous and some days Petra’s anger would flood in and she would dream of leaping, grabbing, and ripping it from its smug perch. Slinking slowly along the wall, she stopped about 6 yards from the end and laying flat on her stomach, began inching and slithering toward the edge of the wall. At 4 yards a blinding light panned down, searching for scavenging Dwellers who were using the darkness as cover. Quickly, closing her eyes to avoid being blinded, this Dweller knew a secret and continued slithering, stopping, and squinting, until the cold metal grate was below her hands and chest. Grabbing the multi-tool in her pocket she started working on removing the bolts to the grate, while still avoiding being blinded and being seen by the Plaigs. Once the screws were all out she waited…1…2..the 3rd time the light neared her she closed her eyes, felt the heat of the glow on her cheeks and in one smooth motion she lifted the grate, rolled beneath it and dropped hard into the hole below, hitting the hard cinder bottom.
By Cole Laron5 years ago in Fiction
Murderous Womb
Blood. So much blood: clotted blood; spattered blood; thickened and dried. Everywhere, but especially in the puddle where I sat. My eyes burned from the smoke as I winced to see the destruction around me. I choked. And when I caught my breath, my lungs were filled with the stench of rotting flesh, sour and bitter and vile. I used all my strength to sit my body up from where I laid, cringing in pain from my midsection. Between my legs laid a baby. A dead baby. My dead baby whose lifeline had turned pale but still held on to the placenta tucked inside of me.
By Lillie Lawrence5 years ago in Fiction
The Cost of Hope
Day -01: Preparation Grubosh cubes weren’t the best tasting food and I suppose that’s the idea, but at least we had plenty of them. The pale white cubes with tiny Gs on all 6 sides were easy to store, which is why I obtained so many. I stuffed the last of the water purification trodes into the second duffle bag as I heard a noise in the front room. I grabbed the bags and quickly threw them into the closet.
By Steven Allen5 years ago in Fiction
Hope and love
Waking up, Banetha looked out at the dull, grey city. She reached over to the table near her makeshift bed and picked up the small joint she had made from herbs she found in a garden. Lighting it up, she opened the window just a bit as she placed the tapered end into her mouth, taking in a few puffs before leaning her head against the window. She looked up at the shiny, gold locket swinging in front of her, letting the memories flood back in.
By Yoallitl C Moreno5 years ago in Fiction
Lost
The woman walked in the dark, flashlight in hand, past burned out husks of buildings, traversing the rubble and debris on what were once sidewalks. She looked nearly as worn as her hoodie, cargo pants, and heavy boots. Her unkempt hair was uncovered, the hood resting between her and her hiking pack. The pack looked newer than everything surrounding it.
By Bernadette Johnson5 years ago in Fiction
'Til Death Do Us Part
The sun was high in the sky, and Claudette felt thirst consuming her. How long had it been since she had last drunk? A week, maybe two, she thought. Not that it mattered-- after a few days, her thirst did not change. A curious side effect of her condition, she thought. She would have searched for answers, but she was too tired. So, so tired, after all these years.
By Andrew Kleinschmidt5 years ago in Fiction
