Sci Fi

The Heart of All Souls
The year is 2150, but it doesn’t really matter anymore. The world has already ended, you see; the catastrophe of human creation. All we have built, all ever constructed by humankind- a kind of imperfection - gone. All planes crashed, all ships sank, all trains derailed, all buildings collapsed. So, how am I alive? Well, It’s all thanks to Dr. Jaquelin, who is responsible for saving us all. How, you might ask? Well, answering that will take this story all the way back to the year 2075.
By Mason DiRenzo5 years ago in Fiction
Broken Bonds
Taggot shook his head, glancing about the Gallant Fox. Anyone that believed they were safe from the Empire was delusional. Even here on Whirlaway, on the edge of Va’Lori dominion, no one was safe.
By Catherine Guillotte5 years ago in Fiction
The Red Pheasant Inn
Clarence and Phyllis had first heard of The Red Pheasant Inn as it was back in the old times. Clarence's father and mother had honeymooned there and often told stories of the long walks they would take through the rolling countryside and how they would enjoy glasses of locally grown wines. The Inn was at least a century old, built of stone hewn from the ground from the nearby hills and transported by donkey cart. It wasn't big, it wasn't fancy but it had charm. At least those were the stories told by Clarence's father.
By Linda C Smith5 years ago in Fiction
Son Of Man
“Of course it all ends with the sun,” she said. The hem of her dress snagged on a fallen tree branch and she tugged it free without breaking stride. She spoke to the air in front of her.
By Lewis Alexander Wright5 years ago in Fiction
To Thine Own Self Be True
Addam walked into the bedroom where his newborn baby son slept. Stopping near the crib to stare out the window at the ocean. He lived in a tiny home with his family in a small town called New Wilmington in the Eastern North Carolina province. This area was considered a safe zone from the war. The home was only about five hundred feet from the ocean, and he picked it precisely because of the location. He loved the salty air, sandy beaches, the cool ocean breeze during the winter months. He spent as much of his downtime as he could teaching his daughter to swim.
By Joseph Cosgriff5 years ago in Fiction
The strand
The strand My name is Li Peng. My mother told me that we should be grateful to the corporations who had provided the money for our DNA bot insertion postponement and for our post bot scholarship iterations.
By Jim Kapetanos 5 years ago in Fiction
After We lost
The pale bony arm stuck out from the rubble like a barren flag pole. At first sight, I felt both drawn to it and disturbed by it. It seemed as though it were waving to me. Beckoning me to join it in the deep beyond.
By Ruth Teets5 years ago in Fiction
Nativity
Numerical religious equality was the commandment in New Jerusalem. Jews could not exceed Christians. Christians could not exceed Muslims.
By Leo Dis Vinci5 years ago in Fiction
Mankind's last hope
It was the year 2022. Most of us simply call it year 2. First a wild infection ravages the planet and wipes out nearly a third of the population. No nation has fully recovered from it even with vaccines being made available.
By DS5 years ago in Fiction
THE HEAD OF MARS
The Desolation Era began some 80 years ago when the technocrats and their transhuman agenda went terribly wrong, covering the Earth in masses of microwave radiation. They erected towers and covered society in millimeter waves, all in hopes of self-driving vehicles and connecting the last of humanity into the cloud.
By Julia Lindsay5 years ago in Fiction
Dream State
It was a really good dream. I was on the farm, I was a child again, we were in the field below the house and it was high summer. The grass was high and wildflowers were everywhere. I could hear insects buzzing. There was a dog playing, a young brown and white dog, leaping around in the grass. Thinking about it, I don’t know that dog. It wasn’t one of ours, but it seemed familiar in the dream. My grandmother was there, carrying a bowl of something. Feed for the hens, perhaps, I’m not sure. She was wearing a blue and white cotton dress, and had her stick. She had her hair up, as she used to sometimes. We were going down to the brook, the brook where Cleo used to drink and where she would stand in the shallow water in hot weather, in the dappled sunlight under the trees, flicking the flies away with her tail. I often saw dragonflies there.
By Jed Finn5 years ago in Fiction
The Existence of Anton
What has happened to this world, she thought, as she stared off into the corner of the room. Veirana had just been taught about the events leading to this desolate world, filling her with more questions than answers. The thought of her being the last person did not make sense to her. She grasped the back of her neck, battling the possibility of this fateful truth. What if there were more people out there? She contemplated. “There has to be more!” she exclaimed.
By Jason Smith5 years ago in Fiction