fantasy
Celebrating the fantastical. Let your imagination run wild.
After
With a cup in each hand, she steps outside the backdoor into the perfect kind of winter night. The snow is falling, thick and heavy, but the air lacks any real bite. It’s the kind of night for magic, if she wasn’t too tired to contemplate such things. Snowflakes dot the sky like the stars they hide. For a moment, complete peace sweeps over her, glorious and heady. It’s a strange thing: she’s used to stress, used to exhaustion, used to bone weary determination. The thought of jingle bells is a wry one; then the burning ember of a cigarette off to her left distracts her, and the emptiness is almost back.
By Edith (yesterday4)5 years ago in Futurism
The Vision
It came sweeping in like the soft warm spring breezes that had been scenting the wind these last few weeks. A strange and welcome sense of Lightness. The mornings seemed to stretch out like days and bring such frequent moments of joy at the sight of the light shining through the green woods. The moss seemed greener and more vibrant. One afternoon I fell into such a deep softness, I heard the hum of the ancestors singing the old song. The song we were told would only come at the end. This is when i knew. The time of Return was upon us.
By Naia Louise5 years ago in Futurism
Element Chronicles: Chapter 1
“My old life ended when I heard that sound. It happened in the dead of night, in a house that was usually so quiet. Nothing exciting had ever happened there before and nobody could have predicted the events that had followed. For the first time in my life, the silent house was loud.”
By CrystalLapizo5 years ago in Futurism
Ted E. Bear
Suzy slept snuggly in her bed with her covers pulled up and her head buried in a mound of pillow. One hand rest on her new her favorite toy just given to her today. A teddy that was tattered and raggedy. It was worn, with missing fur and one eye missing. The teddy had been passed down from her mother who had received it from her mother.
By ALPHAS WICKER5 years ago in Futurism
The Wealth of the World
“Run Eli!” The small company fled frantically through the wooded grove. Twigs snapped and leaves brushed by as they desperately clawed at escape. Amidst the whooshing leaves around them came a similar, yet altogether distinct whooshing – arrows whisping narrowly passed each man before lodging itself into the oak trunks about them.
By Dallas Jackson Gold5 years ago in Futurism
Humanified
Once upon a time there lived a whole universe full of zombies and humans. They weren’t your typical zombies though who ate every human being they could get their rotten undead hands on. These zombies didn’t like to eat human flesh. Instead they ate animals like cows, fish, etc. Like humans do. On February 13, 2015, there was a 16 year old girl named Teresa who was walking home from school when this zombie just kept following her. Teresa at first, wasn’t worried because she knew zombies didn’t hurt humans as long as humans didn’t hurt them. But, after a while Teresa looked back and the zombie was still following her. Teresa started to walk a little bit faster. But, then the zombie started walking faster too! He walked pretty fast for a dead person if I might add. She looked back one last time at the zombie before running but when she looked back she noticed that the zombie was trying to say something to her. So, she stopped and turned around and started walking toward the zombie. Then, the zombie stopped and started to speak. He said in a mumble “My name Carter.” “Me you be friends?” Teresa wasn’t sure what to say. She just kind of stood there just staring at his emotionless face for the longest time before asking “What did you say?” Carter said “Me you be friends?” Teresa looked at her phone and said “Well, I better be getting home or my mom will start to worry.” Then, she turned and ran without another word.
By Kristen Behrens5 years ago in Futurism
Let Me In
Secrets , lies , deception , all but one who dared not to succumb to the so called normalities of a village built upon them . My name is unknown to me now , for time has progressed so much within the changes of seasons and truths of winds dispelling all that was once so familiar and known to me in the very village I speak of determined to reshape the very essence of my soul. Names in a fashion , are like numbers to identify us with another species , an unnatural form of communication so foreign to the souls of beings that were born from ignited energy that has been ignorantly subdued and lost to what we address ourselves as civilized human beings. Let us begin with the proper introduction of this village I speak of , in which for some time was allotted to maintain unscratched surfaces of their appearances and symbolism in which they desperately tried to maintain , until of course I came along and changed all that . You have heard the stories of ghosts and headless horsemen that were considered the foe and enemies of such legends, but you have not yet been told of ghosts and those that lurk within the shadows as being the heroes and sources of encouragement guiding those who dared to stand against the true enemies , those very people who live under a profound secret code creating a world within a world they dominate , and if you stand against them , you face an inescapable horror realizing the one person you must truly trust in the end of all such stories , is yourself and how much you are willing to endure until the very end . What price is to be paid to lose yourself completely in order to reshape your reality apart from theirs in order to just survive to the next day of their never ending ramblings of useless purgatory gauntlets so desperate to make you either go mad , or worse , a mindless vessel operated by those who claim to govern and protect you. This is no revolution I speak of , it is not a rebellion, it is a war which has been plagued since the beginning of time it's self , the war of discovering and rediscovering the bitter sweet taste of knowledge that was once spilled out so intoxicatingly , like a wave of pleasure that can not be contained by just innocent curiosity , but devoured . Who is truly to blame for such a disease , those who willingly gave it to us , or those who sought to forsake such knowledge obsessed with a driven impulse to become more powerful then the given source? When a village bases it's morals and teachings about an all loving god building temples to symbolize and shelter these notions , and goes against the very ideals they preach by isolating those deemed not fit to belong amongst them , they are creating the very monsters they teach their children to despise . When you find yourself in such a place , listen to the whispers of knowledge pleading with you to inhale the seduction of knowledge , and the voice of all voices beckoning to your very being , LET ME IN .
By Jennifer Ware5 years ago in Futurism
The SpellBook
Claire signed and rubbed her temples. She glanced at the old grandfather clock on the wall out of habit. It had been broken for months. The soft ticking used to annoy her, but now she kind of missed it. Silently, so as not to wake her grandmother, she pulled her phone out of her back pocket. 11:11 p.m. Her essay would have to wait. She stood up to stretch. She reached her arms above her head, then to the side. A pile of booked toppled to the floor. Claire groaned. She kicked them and muttered “goddam hoarder” to herself. The study was filled with piles of books, papers, and photo albums, but despite that, it was the only room aside besides her bedroom that still had floor space. She clenched her fists. “Just ten more months and I can leave this hell hole” she muttered as visions of torching the place filled her mind.
By Gillian Fraser5 years ago in Futurism
