Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Fiction.
Two Thousand Forty Two
It was the smell that hit M first. A heady concoction of eau de perfume, thick sultry scents against the more sickly and floral, soon to intermingle with the stench of decay as the bodies would fall to rot in a marked grave of the wealthy. Then came the noise. Howling jeers as the sun set, an impatient stampede of waiting feet. It was her first public hanging on the aptly named Millionaire’s Row. She found herself joining in, screaming with the masses, her fists clenching in anger, her knees vibrating from pounding the concrete floor. It was hot and humid. The heat made people do terrible things. It turned them into animals.
By Maxine Noth3 years ago in Fiction
Collar
Just kick her up the bum, I thought. One kick. Doesn’t even need to be hard. A nudge would be enough. Bruce rounded the corner. His scowl deepened like he knew what I was thinking. My brief moment of treason slipped away into the past. Just like all the other moments I’d spent in this house.
By Matt Holland3 years ago in Fiction
The Founding of the World and the Creation of Akanía
Long before recorded time nothing was that exists as it does now. The entire world of being was contained in only one thing: darkness. The darkness of the sky could not be distinguished from the darkness of the sea. All appeared as one. Nothing dwelled in the world. However, there did exist two uncreated and unchanging beings. One dwelt above the darkness of the sky, the other dwelt below the darkness of the sea. They were brothers. The one above the sky was called Cellístus and the one below the sea was known as Marrístus. They coexisted but never involved themselves in each other’s affairs.
By Samuel Whittaker3 years ago in Fiction
Zania's Locket
“Your shift will begin in the next five minutes. Please ensure that you are fully prepared to perform your duties. Remember! An efficient hospice is a happy hospice!”, Zania Sagan’s watch lit up with the daily five-minute warning timer as she quickly downed her morning coffee and made her way over the teleportation stations to sign in for the days’ work.
By Gene Foxwell3 years ago in Fiction
Paris, 2101
Lizzie A4 couldn’t help but gawk at the giant grey building from the banks of the Seine. It had ornate multi-color glass windows like a kaleidoscope and strange stone creatures on the roof. She used her ocular implant to look up its history while mumbling to herself, “what strange architecture... what could it have possibly been used for?” The implant traced the outline of the building in neon blue lines like a blueprint before declaring that it was known as “Notre Dame de Paris”. She quickly scanned through the corresponding articles, learning about the typical features of gothic cathedrals, Victor Hugo’s Quasimodo and the great fire of 2019, all the while marveling at how much the building had endured. It emanated a kind of strange beauty that felt otherworldly to her, she had a similar feeling when she stumbled upon the Great Pyramids six months ago. In both places she was dumbstruck by an overwhelming sense of awe, unable to comprehend what humans were capable of so long ago.
By Carmen Cornue3 years ago in Fiction
The Emerald Locket
The city is starting to become dark as the sun had been hidden by the tall building for just over an hour. The neon lights and holographs are the only thing lighting up the garbage covered street and alleys. The sound of rats fighting over some food can be heard with distant gunshots echoing against the metal walls of the high rise buildings and apartments. The rare beam of sunlight reflecting off a satellite dish atop one of the towers bringing the only natural sunlight that can be found when the sun is not at its highest. Life is hard in the city. But that is where everybody lives now. Jobs are few and far between. The land doesn't grow produce like it used to in the past. Amongst the doorways and alleyways people are standing around smoking, talking, just trying to enjoy the few hours of light the sun offers. Their skin pale and clothes worn due to the high poverty in the lower levels of the city with a locket around their neck. Each locket different from the other as they are the identification of the person, they will tell everything about who you are, who your family is, your social status, as well as your job. Most everybody has a weapon of some kind as crime has become more and more rampant.
By Justin Thomas3 years ago in Fiction
Silver Box
The morning sun shone through the lone window of the shack. The rays of light hit Oliver on the face, as he rolled over in frustration. Surely it wasn’t time to wake yet. The birds chirped away outside as they had done every morning. The fire had settled down after burning to provide heat and warmth throughout the night. Oliver sat up, rubbed his eyes and placed his feet on the floor. He went through his mental checklist. Put out fire. Check. Find something to eat. Check. Go find more wood. Must do. Put on gas mask. Check. He gathered his rack sack, bow and arrow and started to make his way through the forest towards the river. There was no means of any communication since the dreaded day ten years ago. He tried to not think about the events and memories of that time. He was only eight, and to be fair couldn’t remember a lot about what happened. It was the memory of his family that hurt the most.
By Joshua Maggs3 years ago in Fiction
From the voice journal of Emily B, New Era 437
This is it, the last piece. This small piece of jewelry resting on my palm is the last remnant. It’s shaped like a heart and made from sterling silver, though the metal is now encrusted with rust. When you click on the tiny button in the corner, a small mechanism opens it up to reveal a photograph. I don’t want to talk about the photograph. I’d rather forget about it, but I can’t, no more than I can bring myself to throw the locket away, no more than I can fully let go of the past.
By Merrill Beckstead3 years ago in Fiction