Sci Fi

Trapped memories
It was quiet inside the house. The storm outside receded, kept at bay by the thin wooden walls and the shards of glass that remained inside their window frames. But we had to be careful to listen - houses, I’d learned, had voices of their own. They were built to keep the world at bay, but they had their own little worlds inside; filled with creaking wood, sighing draughts, and whispering curtains. There were no people here anymore, that was true, but their lives had a strange way of echoing throughout the dwellings they’d once called home. It was my job to listen for those echoes, find their source - and silence them.
By E R Hall5 years ago in Fiction
The Scout and the Old Parish
Humanity, in constant reach of the constellations, have now grasped its core and ignited their futures. With planet earth now uninhabited; Gaea set forth on rejuvenating her surface. Lush forestry exfoliate the concrete jungle with hyacinths and hibiscus, skyscrapers became the foundation for moss groves to germ and populate.
By Burcad Badeed5 years ago in Fiction
The Irony of Fate
I’m almost running to the door after seeing the USPS drone passing by my window. My hopes are fulfilled – the package is there. I start tearing frantically the padded envelope while I’m still in the driveway.
By Cristian Carstoiu5 years ago in Fiction
Dumb Luck
Looking back at that day, I never realized my future, wouldn't become my past. That day, the overcast weather, the traffic jam. Maybe it had something to add that caused my predicament.
By Chelsea Sheppard5 years ago in Fiction
Rescue Day
K walked over to the man and looked down. He wasn’t making any noise, wasn’t pleading for his life or even breathing heavy, but K could see his hand, sprawled out in front of him, opening and closing against the dirt covered concrete as if in a useless attempt to drag himself forward.
By Jason Emmitt Caudill5 years ago in Fiction
Homebound
The planet was a glistening jewel on the viewscreen. It was mostly white and blue, with a few green and yellowish-brown patches.
By Allison Oesterle5 years ago in Fiction
Poisonous Advancements
He would have to go out. He needed to collect more of the ivy he had found in the forest just past the old donut shop downtown. His attempts to decipher why it was different, more predatory, more voracious than the other ivy strangling the city had so far proven fruitless.
By Darcie Fielding5 years ago in Fiction
Flawless
It was a Friday; time was standing still, and I held my breath as I waited for my final moments. The clock ticked down, every second felt like an eternity, every movement of the second hand felt like a dagger swiping away the last of my life. I was told that at our final moments we experience our lives flash before our eyes.
By Joshua Rossman5 years ago in Fiction
The Long Cold
“Do we need to restrain him or something?” asked Kate. She stood wearily outside the cold room, peering in at their newly admitted patient. He looked in bad shape. His hair was mostly gone, eyebrows and all, with most of the left side of his body rotted away. It seemed like a miracle he was still alive.
By Peter C5 years ago in Fiction
TerrEx: The Exodus
In seconds, I remember everything. I remember thinking the wind would swoop me off my feet if I let go of my mother's hand. When my sister and I were young, this is what our mother would tell us to make sure we wouldn't let go. I remember feeling the power of each breeze against my skin. The cool air caused goosebumps but the firmness of my mother's grip kept me rooted to the ground.
By Ryan Kirby5 years ago in Fiction
Mindy's
“Hmmm.” Axel made the sound as his eyes wander over the sunglasses display. He had already spun the rack around twice and the only thing that catches his attention is a pair of aviators.
By Alastair Chillrud5 years ago in Fiction
On the Fence
Steam rose off the pavement as the sun beat down hotter than ever, angry that the rain had tried to provide some relief to the wasteland below. A gangly young boy wearing an orange bandana, a sweat stained button down, and dirty sneakers strode down the cracked highway with a grin on his face. The energy-draining humidity didn’t bother him one bit. Steam meant rain had just passed through. Rain meant clean water. The only clean water available these days.
By A. C. J. Walker5 years ago in Fiction