Brutalist Stories

Brutalist Stories

Short sci-fi stories in 500 words or less deriving from the stark style of the functionalist architecture, that is characterised by the use of concrete.

How does it work?
  • Brutalist Stories
    Published about a year ago
    Brutalist Stories #60

    Brutalist Stories #60

    We stole the stars from their sky, we stole the seas from their planet, we stole the souls from their young, and when there was nothing else left to take, we burnt them up like any other planet. There were some that escaped, as they always do, but the legions took care of them until there was no trace that they had ever existed. Complete and utter annihilation.
  • Brutalist Stories
    Published about a year ago
    Brutalist Stories #59

    Brutalist Stories #59

    “I would suggest you relinquish your weapons immediately, I am tracking you with anti-phazic daisy-cutters.” She pauses and looks at me, furrowing her brow before starting again. “You know, I’d love you to test me, I really would, but it would properly fuck up my day if I had to clean your blood and guts off these walls, I only just got the place looking the way I wanted it to.”
  • Brutalist Stories
    Published about a year ago
    Brutalist Stories #58

    Brutalist Stories #58

    “You wanna be scared?” the major asked, walking along the wall of concrete, pock marked and bitten with time and war. Bullet holes the size of fists, the crumbling grey matter lay strewn all around with a line of his troops knelt in front, their eyes closed, deep in the middle of their litany before the storm of battle was about to start.
  • Brutalist Stories
    Published about a year ago
    Brutalist Stories #57

    Brutalist Stories #57

    A woman walks into the room holding a large yellow ball in one hand. It’s a tall room with spiking concrete shafts that are split occasionally with slits of light, highlighting motes of grey dust that float through the air.
  • Brutalist Stories
    Published 2 years ago
    Brutalist Stories #56

    Brutalist Stories #56

    She came outside, leant on the tilled wall outside the huge overhang of the Ministry of Cyber Affairs, and lit a cigarette. Holding it down, the smoke in her lungs releasing that kick of nicotine, three, two, one, and a long breath out. Her heart rate quickened with the nicotine and the feeling of relaxation swept through her, shoulders dropping their tension as she cradled one hand on her bicep and held the cigarette to her mouth with the other.
  • Brutalist Stories
    Published 2 years ago
    Brutalist Stories #55

    Brutalist Stories #55

    “You’re afraid,” I say to him and he nods and looks up at me through his furrowed brow, the shake in his hand calming. “We’re all afraid,” I smile and hold the glass front of my helmet against his.