Mystery
Kyron's Iron Heart
"Kyron, fucking get it together! Stop acting like a little bitch!" I never realized it until this very instant. Funny how dads' so-called words of encouragement and moms' satirical internal dialogue are now my mini motivational speeches every time I consider caving under pressure. It may sound horrible, but in reality, if it weren't for those two critical lines, I would've never made it this far even though I used to brag about how I was cut out for surviving an apocalypse. All I'm saying is, it's entirely different than watching a movie or playing a video game based on one. And as much as my parents complained about the video games I played, those have ironically been just as essential in my survival.
Dooms Day Dystopia
Doomsday! A day full of chaotic adventures and circumstances. Imagine losing a loved one, or two, or three. And the only memory you have of them is of a heart-shaped locket that you held dear to your heart. The locket then takes its own journey in life as it is misplaced; nowhere to be found.
Steve JacksonPublished 3 years ago in FictionThe Four Suns
Mariah Frey hiked the safe parts of the forbidden dryland with her archaeology class. People of the marine cities understood that life above water was impossible. What lived in that place before them was a mystery- a dangerous mystery, a fickle study. No one knew how humanity began in underwater cities. Who or what created the artificial conditions for survival that were based on the above land? There must have been centuries of scientific breakthroughs, but what those humans left the marine-dwellers is a complex mystery. Every trace of humanity’s origins is lost like treasure, and Mariah was one of the people determined to help find the answers.
Starlight TuckerPublished 3 years ago in FictionFor the Record, I Love You
The cold air prickles his skin, raising the hairs on his arms. William tugs the sleeve of his coat to his wrist, adjusting his position above her body. A loud click fills the silent room, and a bright light illuminates the silvers of the table, adding a shine to the greys and blues of her cold, lifeless body. "Well…" William reaches down, twisting her toe tag toward him reading her name. "Ah, Gabby. It's been nice working with you, but it's time to go into the freezer," he says, pulling back the long plastic curtains pushing the embalming table to the refrigeration unit.
Anjolene BozemanPublished 3 years ago in FictionElara
The first and final forever sunset occurred at the turn of the third millennium, the explosive event called, “The Framers First Sight”, it was happenstance or an after effect of humanity’s genius. It was an attempt to control the uncontrollable and Hansen city heralded this union between that hope and its failure. The Framers First Sight had enriched the sky with particles like emerald daffodils, flowering each cloud with shimmers of yellow-green streaks. A cosmic play that cast other orphaned blobs of color as fish set to swim through radiant forever clouds. This is what it was like to see Hansen’s forever sunset. A skyline bound to the sunset’s existence, never falling to night, and never rising to daylight.
Gary LougheedPublished 3 years ago in FictionSarah
She felt the cool, smooth metal in her hand, pressed tightly with white knuckles against her palm. It was all she had. That little locket represented all that she once knew. Her life that was before NOW.
Zane MottelerPublished 3 years ago in FictionThe Pieridae
Ean liked the word 'ostensibly.' Perhaps it was because things truly weren’t ever quite what they seemed. He was reading a book on WW2, or to be exact, the aftermath of the war in Germany. Ean liked books that explored history, because as he knew full well, even just as a 14-year-old kid born and raised in Manhattan, history had a way of repeating itself.
Conrad HoytPublished 3 years ago in FictionLiving Forever
Abigail walked down the street of her youth for the first time in over a century. Her body hadn’t aged a day since she last left, but to say she was unchanged would not be accurate. Like the street she walked down, she bore unmistakable signs of someone or something that had been neglected at best, ravaged at worst. Her t-shirt and jeans had holes and slashes in them; the damages echoed on the skin below. A hole—a bullet hole—ran through her upper arm. Her face held a deep gash across the cheek. The wounds weren’t bloody, although blood could be seen. Souvenirs from the Breakdown and all else that followed. Living forever, Abigail had come to realize, came with its costs.
The Roaming ScholarPublished 3 years ago in FictionShattered Hearts
-Hopelessness- Today, like many days, is dark and gray. The smoke covers the sky; no one has seen the sun in years. Rain patters across the ground.
Aquamarine FoxPublished 3 years ago in FictionBoite
Noun 1. A small restaurant or nightclub. Let's Create! ** Either a story beginning, a story ending, a piece of flash fiction, a poem—inspired by the word, boîte, where does it take me? Where does it take you?Learn more about “The Word” here, and create with me!
The Roaming ScholarPublished 3 years ago in FictionVanishment
The Hearts were mute, but they were powerful. They had identical facial features—nothing that differentiated them from each other except their bodies. Unlike typical guards, they didn’t have to carry around bulky weapons. Their powers were contained in their unusual heart-shaped heads. They were known for being able to cause people pain and control their physical functions, as well as uncommon cases of them making people totally Vanish into thin air.
Adventure in the concrete city
I was in my small studio apartment getting ready to leave to meet my friend. The tv was on playing Friends only to be interrupted by breaking news. Caption read “They came and destroyed our homes. They are killing everyone in their path”. The connection broke immediately after.