Short Story
Turn Out The Lights. Top Story - June 2021.
She stared at the words scratched into the dirt. She had written them there the night before, scraping with a stick at the soil until they read how she wanted them, the same message she left outside every camp she made just in case. Her name.
By Demi Smith5 years ago in Fiction
The Patrol
The Patrol By J.D. Anderson He saw a glint of sunlight reflected about a meter away as he covered his assigned portion of the day’s patrol. Leaving his straight trajectory to cross the piles of rubble that had once been a town, he went to investigate the glimmer that had caught his attention. The community had long been known to be harboring “Free Thinkers,” and the Council that now served as an ad hoc government had decided to convince the town of the Council’s self-imposed legitimacy through a show of strength. They accomplished the complete destruction of the town instead.
By Joel D Anderson5 years ago in Fiction
Rocky Terrain
If there had been a tree or a bush left in existence across this blackened plain, Cormack may have made himself a little more comfortable and watched with real interest the figure he had spotted, and who had not yet spotted him. Already belly to the rocky ground, he had ceased all forward movement, not in the rigid way that danger would normally induce in a being, but in a purely neutral sense. Emotion emanates, fear in particular. It had only taken a generation for Post Apoco's to master fear by accepting its constant presence. Some amongst them had sensitised to all manner of emotion while also developing the ability to harness their own. It was these traits that marked the elite in this new world. His mottled clothing in shades of black and grey, skin paint, and the Great Pollute; the opaque greyish haze that weaved and wavered vertically across the terrain; gave him all the camouflage he needed. He could risk glancing in that direction, but sustained focus was out of the question. It would only draw attention.
By Aileen Lynch5 years ago in Fiction
Creation Of Chaos
Fear, nausea, and ever-increasing pain are what kept her racing through the empty streets and down the sewage collection site. She was taught to always hide; “Never trust what any creature tells you as long as you live.” Her mother beat that into every cell in her being until the moment Andie watched her mother murdered by the Proclamation Enforcement.
By Samantha Semones5 years ago in Fiction
Hate'n Those
I have no hate in my heart for them. Those that don’t look like me. I’d be lying if I said it was easy though. Most of the others do, and I can’t say I blame them. It’s just that I was lucky enough to be able to glance at a history book before they were all destroyed by the Bloods. I’ve yet to come across another soul that has even seen a book, let alone read one. The book I saw had a five hundred year old quote from a man who was a powerful king in the old world. I believe his name was Martan Lugger or something. He said that a person should be judged not by his appearance but the content of his character. I really love that quote. The book said he was a black man. I omit that fact whenever I tell any of the others about him. I used to tell them, but they would always get angry at me. One fella was so upset about it that he launched at me in a rage. It would have been a merciless battle too had not a few of the others intervened. Needless to say, after that encounter, the king was always of european descent. It’s not that I was incapable of handling my own. It’s just when you’re held up at one of these camps, you need to conserve every single ounce of energy you have.
By Larry Gunter5 years ago in Fiction
North
Mia had lived here for as long as she could remember. Existence rested on a delicate precipice and survival through each night was never guaranteed. Snow and ice bits sliced through her fragile skin as she stared out into the dimly illuminated darkness. Torches were lined along walkways, carved by the legs of various workers. This place was horrid, even after over a decade but Mia hardly remembered the times before this life. People came, and they went, usually by death, sometimes by banishment. If you didn’t pull your weight, you weren’t worth cultivated resources that others perished to retrieve.
By Jacqueline Wilson5 years ago in Fiction
