Fantasy

Just Dropped In To See What Simulation My Simulation Was In
“Do you think they'll figure it out?” “Let’s review what we've learned so far, in the most general way.” “Hm. Okay. We created a simulation and populated it with creatures much like what we know of our primitive selves.”
By C. Rommial Butler2 years ago in Fiction
A$AP Rocky dives into Rihanna’s arms as not guilty verdict is read at felony assault trial
On February 18, 2025, the Los Angeles courtroom was filled with an air of palpable tension as the jury delivered their final verdict in the highly anticipated felony assault trial of rapper A$AP Rocky. The charges against him stemmed from an alleged shooting incident in November 2021, where Rocky was accused of firing a semi-automatic firearm at his former friend, A$AP Relli, during a heated altercation. As the verdict was read aloud, the courtroom was electrified with emotions, and Rocky was exonerated after being found not guilty on all counts. This monumental decision not only cleared Rocky of the felony assault charges but also highlighted the strength of his personal relationships, particularly his unwavering connection with his partner, global superstar Rihanna.
By Arean Ahamad2 years ago in Fiction
Fate/Choice. Top Story - February 2025.
Swarmed by the crazed horde, Murphy and I were both taken prisoner before we had the chance to blink. I tried to fight, but my arms were being held down with so much force I feared they would break if I strained them. It was useless. They were too strong, too mean, and too many.
By Kale Sinclair2 years ago in Fiction
"Severance Package". Top Story - February 2025.
He's clacking again. He's always clacking. Silly little man. I can hear him, even here, at the other side of the house, beneath this thick layer of stone. Clack clack clack I know what he's doing. Oh, yes. He thinks I don't know. Fool. He thinks me old, set in my ways, and distrustful of new gadgets. And so I am... but I am not stupid. He underestimates me. He is job seeking. That's what he is doing. He is going to leave me. And why not? Everyone does, soon or late. Oh, don't think I say it for pity. You know unto which cavity you can shove that. No, I'm just realistic. When you live exist this long, everyone leaves. That's just how it is. He's connected to the bloody Inter Net. I can hear it whirring, like so many tiny bats, flying about with their little messages and bits of information. He's gone on this Inter Net, and he's Goggled "new jobs nere me" or something like that. He has applied to these jobs. He has sent prospective employers Electric Letters, on the back of one of those tiny bats. I know a thing or two about this process. I know he will need a Reference. I lay here, arms crossed on my chest, like so, and I wondered whether I should do him this great service. Perhaps not. Then he would not get a new job, and he would have to stay here. Don't think me soft, or sentimental. I am not. I don't want him to stay because of some childish fondness. I'll grant you, he is somewhat useful. Remember, though, humans who wish for immortality are ten a penny. I could replace him quickly. The promise of it keeps them going for a long time. It's true that you do grow used to people. He has grown accustomed to the way I like things done, and I, too, have grown used to his way of doing things. But there is this: to someone like me, who lives so long, what is a year, or five, or ten? A blink only. It would be tiresome to start anew, but hardly an insurmountable undertaking. I thought all these things, my mind going to and fro on whether to help him in his new adventure, much though it may inconvenience me... Then I saw the depth of his plotting. More phones! He will be giving himself references! He has even invented companies and created websites. The whole enterprise has demonstrated a level of cunning and industry I had hardly expected of him. I hope he has applied for a job working with these new machines. He might not do terribly in such a role. Here is something he does not know: I have been doing some clacking of my own. Such clever creatures, humans are, they have made replicas of themselves. These replicas look human, but they aren't. Rather like me. They do as they are told unfailingly, as long as one is precise in giving the instruction. This would cut down on the time for training and getting used to a new familiar. Like me, the replica would be unchanging. I have ordered one. I will give my faithless familiar some time off to reward him for such loyal service. He will be thrilled. No doubt this will make it easier for him to attend interviews without looking like grey dog doings that have been reheated. My new, mechanical familiar will arrive while he is gone. My neighbour will take delivery off it for me, and I will collect it after sundown. I see no flaws in this plan. I will let my idiot manservant go, but perhaps I will unpack his replacement and set it to work before be leaves. Just to see the look on his face. Or, perhaps I will arrange a severance package for him. Here you will have to imagine a sinister, even maniacal laugh. Typing "ahahaha!" doesn't really do the trick, no matter how many exclamation marks one uses. Keep clacking little man.
By L.C. Schäfer2 years ago in Fiction
The Wage Slave’s Manifesto 1. AI-Generated.
Chapter 1: The Grind: ### **Setting the Stage** The story opens in **New Corinth**, a sprawling metropolis in the **United Corporate States of America (UCSA)**. The year is **2047**, and the nation has devolved into a hyper-capitalist dystopia. Corporations have replaced governments, labor laws are nonexistent, and citizens are ranked by their **Corporate Credit Score (CCS)** — a number that determines their access to housing, healthcare, and even basic dignity.
By Ethan Cole2 years ago in Fiction
The Cry in the Water Part 3
Jayr and Zena were let into the inn that they had figured it was, a building of ample space despite its two stories only and the corner spot it occupied between other buildings. The man they had encountered let them in, and insisted vehemently that they bring their horses straight on in, more from self preservation than any real concern for the beasts that traipsed cautiously over the wood floor of the once proud establishment.
By Jamye Sharp2 years ago in Fiction
The Leonardo Paradox
The climb to the top of the Duomo seemed endless. Sarah's muscles burned as she ascended the narrow maintenance stairs between the dome's inner and outer shells. The manuscript grew heavier with each step, as if the temporal energy it contained was responding to their elevation.
By Shane D. Spear2 years ago in Fiction
Let's see where this goes
I angrily walked away with my shoulders slumped, accepting defeat. I left the parking lot and walked into my apartment building and stood impatiently waiting on the elevator. I was relieved when it finally opened. I got in and quickly pressed my floor number.
By Carolyn B.2 years ago in Fiction
Expatrianas Histories - What the Gods Fear
“The southern Gods live in their great temple in Tenochtitlan. Ehecat is the wind God form of the great Quetzlacoatl. He is equivalent to Zeus among the southern Gods.” It was rare for Elyria to speak to Baj almost as an equal without her normal condescending tone and attitude, but whenever she did, he listened most intently. These were the few times she said things which made sense and were genuinely important, and sometimes even wise. This discussion about the southern Gods was one such occasion and so he made careful note of everything Elyria said. He remained respectfully silent as she continued. "I once heard Zeus say. A God whose name I cannot pronounce, is a God with whom I will have no quarrel. He is a silly old fool, but he is wise in some ways, and in this he is very wise. I will never understand these southern Gods human and you should avoid them at all costs too, if you value your life that is. They are barbarians forever demanding human sacrifice. And the more terrible the death the happier they are." That had sent a shiver down Baj’s spine. To think there existed beings with which even the great Zeus was afraid to quarrel, made Baj realize just how little he knew about the powers of his universe, and just how weak mortals like himself were in comparison to the Gods. He could not help but speak up at that moment. “Do you think they will join us when Diskord comes? Will the southern Gods fight alongside us against Chaos?” Baj asked with an air of resignation which suggested he felt sure the answer would be no. “Yes human, they will join us.” Elyria answered without hesitation. “How can you be certain?” he quickly shot back. The Goddess gazed at Baj and sighed, irritated by his inability to see the answer which was so clearly right in front of his face. “Because my slow brained one, if they do not there will be no humans left for their sacrifices.” Baj had long since armored himself against any hurt that might be caused by Elyria’s many harsh and unfair criticisms of himself and humanity. In the early years of his enslavement, he would have responded in kind, but he had come to accept them as a necessary if very unfortunate aspect of the Goddess’ personality. The attack on his intelligence was mild by her standards and he did not react though he was depressed greatly as he considered the weakness of mortals when viewed against the might of the Gods. Elyria immediately sensed the change in mood through her bond with him, and enquired gently, “Why does your mood suddenly darken human?” Baj answered meekly with an air of resignation “Is there no role for us to play then? In the fight against Chaos I mean. We are so weak. If even the Gods fear DisKord what can we possibly do?” The Goddess looked at him and, in her eyes, he saw something he rarely did. He only ever saw it when she was at the peak of one of her “sermons” pontificating on the power of hope and love, the corny philosophy she espoused, the principles around which a church had been built, and to which her temple’s across Nortenous were dedicated. It was hope that he saw there, true hope, the kind only a God could reveal, and in that moment, it gave him strength and renewed his flagging spirits. He was no acolyte of her church and had been tricked into servitude. He did not believe in that “hippie dippy bullshit” as he referred to her philosophy and church, but even he could not deny the power of her message. However, never in a million years would he say that to the Goddess. Her ego needed no additional stroking given its current and seemingly ever-expanding size.
By Everyday Junglist2 years ago in Fiction
Endless Summer
The sun never set on Seabreeze Cove. It was a perfect summer day—every single day. Warm golden sands stretched as far as the eye could see, waves lapped gently at the shore, and the air smelled of salt and sunscreen. For a group of six friends, it had started as the best vacation of their lives.
By V-Ink Stories2 years ago in Fiction
Firelight Festival
Every summer, the town of Black Hollow came alive for the Firelight Festival. Lanterns bathed the streets in golden hues, fireworks crackled overhead, and the scent of roasted food filled the air. Outsiders called it charming, magical even. But for the townsfolk, it was a grim necessity.
By V-Ink Stories2 years ago in Fiction
Ghost of the Mountain
Have you ever seen something unbelievable? Something you just couldn’t explain, and no matter how many times you played it through your head, it just didn’t make sense? The only reason you know it happened is because you saw it with someone, so the only proof of its existence is the memory you share with that person?
By Paul Plett2 years ago in Fiction