Sci Fi

Dear Mary
The day was like any other, the sky was clean but for a few white clouds here and there to break the monotony, the wind was blowing over the wheat softly and the sound of Dashing’s hoofs on the asphalt were the only sound to be heard.
By Luis Filipe de Moraes5 years ago in Fiction
Eyes Like Night
173 hours and 14 minutes. I only bother with the cascade of time because I fear I am losing myself. Arithmetic at a metronome may keep my mind from plunging into madness. Or it will propel the fall. Lost in the cold, insanity might be a blessing. So I walk on, searching. The plains of ice taunt my soul with the illusion of infinity and blister my soles below.
By Zak Klapperich5 years ago in Fiction
The Daily Apocalypse
It begins with an asteroid, appropriately enough. An all time classic, good enough for the dinosaurs. Multiple asteroids, actually, striking both land and sea, the first one somewhere in Czechoslovakia, for some reason, followed by the Indian Ocean, then— oh, just every damn place, does it matter, really? Massive dust clouds, hurricanes, tsunamis, the works. The human race destroyed. Well, not destroyed entirely, of course, just beaten to within an inch of its life. Everyone ready to close their eyes forever, surrender to the endless night… until, that is, they wake up the next day and find their planet restored. As if the whole global nightmare was some sort of mass hallucination, a product of the collective unconsciousness. Citizens of Earth rejoice. Indescribably grateful for the second chance, they vow to turn their swords into plowshares, their AK-47s into nail guns for use by Habitats for Humanity or something like that.
By Michael Ferris5 years ago in Fiction
The Golem Solution
The room was bathed in artificial sunlight. Outside the window, a grey haze surrounded the decaying neighborhood, stripping away any hint of color.
By caleb paschall5 years ago in Fiction
Found
“Where did you get this?” Their mother demanded, running her feelers over it in alarm. “It was hanging in the crillows, down by the lake,” they chittered back.
By Angel Whelan5 years ago in Fiction
Beaumont Attack
Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. This is especially true if your death is virtually instantaneous. Grace yanked her dagger from the spine of the crewmember. She had learned long ago that the quickest and least painful way to kill was to thrust the blade between the atlas vertebrae and any of the other seven cervical vertebrae; preferably number one or two. What was his name? Did he have dreams of becoming a captain some day? Perhaps he was just trying to complete an internship for experience before working at a medical center. She didn’t know.
By Teacher Steven U Allen5 years ago in Fiction
Unbreakable Heart
The waves had shook the earth in a continuous thunder. Now the sky itself seemed to fall around her. Everything had disintegrated into piles of ash—steel structures, wind turbines, even the soil beneath her feet seemed less itself, more of an ashen soot—that her feet sunk into, deeper with every step. Her body had somehow survived the fire—she knew not how. She had enclosed herself in a kind of cold storage unit and months later found herself brave enough to step outside. She wasn’t sure what she had expected to see, but in some ways the reality was far worse than her imagination. Her mind was incapable of opening up to the harsh cruelty of complete and utter destruction: the remains of hollowed loved ones, frozen in time, mostly incinerated into carbonized compounds.
By Ama5 years ago in Fiction
The Dead Sun
When it happened, everyone knew at the same time. The scientists received no warning, they found out when the rest of us did: when everything went dark and everyone felt that first premonitory chill.
By Finnigan Houston5 years ago in Fiction
Capital Value
I’ve been told many times that those without Value have no place in this world. As children we were told so every morning before class, every afternoon before being let out to exercise. Our Nurturers would tell us before bed and when we woke up, and like the rest I believed it. I Worked hard in and after school, terrified of falling below the Grade of Value. In many ways I still live under that system, the fear of losing Value keeping me awake at night, even up here on the surface.
By Arksong5 years ago in Fiction
Hope Floats
22nd April 2051 My daughter, Tereva, Journeys begin with the first fathom. But in which direction? And how fast? When I was a child, those questions were answered for me by adults battling to conquer a land reclaimed by water.
By Michelle Cook5 years ago in Fiction
One Billion Received
From the journal of Dr. Marko Riley 12.06.2039 It’s been forty-two days since the orders came in. Stephens says we don’t have much longer, and I guess he feels that this should light a spark—but all it does is piss me off. He’s a good scientist, but a bit inept as a friend.
By Matt Cupo5 years ago in Fiction
Afterworld Painted by Van Gogh
The audible shuffling of a record scratch was all I could hear. Bob Dylan’s voice begins coming through, like a raspy, old-timey radio in an apocalyptic movie. The same lyrics play over and over. In spite of the static, I understand them clearly. His words strike a chord I can’t explain as he sings, “There’s no locket. No picture of any mother I would pocket. Unless it’s been done by Van Gogh.” I clutched the dirty, heart-shaped necklace, the sunflowers on the edges barely visible under the layers of the former Earth. I never remember wanting it, and yet, I was always there- just like them. It held a familiar fear and comfort- just like them. I thought I screamed, but the only thing that came out was another cloud of dust. I covered my ears, but the words of the song were too loud. It was inside my head now, just like them. I begged for silence again and, for a moment, they allowed it.
By M.L. Martello5 years ago in Fiction