Sci Fi

Silent Whispers. AI-Generated.
Lena had always known she was different. As a child, she'd often heard whispers—soft, fleeting voices that weren't her own. At first, she thought they were figments of her imagination, an oddity her mind conjured during moments of quiet solitude. But as she grew older, the whispers became louder, clearer, and impossible to ignore. She could hear people's thoughts. It was as if their minds spoke directly to hers, whether they wanted her to hear them or not.
By Karenshy Johnybye2 years ago in Fiction
Fanfiction: What it means to us?
Let me make the title a bit clearer before I begin with the main context. “Fanfiction: What Does It Mean to Us?” The pronoun “us” has been stressed here. We all, in some way or another, are affected by fiction in general. Fiction is literature that is created from one’s imagination and is not presented as fact, though it may be based on a true story or situation. We all watch movies, read stories, listen to songs, etc. Most of them are fictional. Some popular types are romance (my personal favourite), action-adventure, science fiction, fantasy, speculative fiction, suspense/thriller (my second personal favourite), young adult, new adult, etc. Now here comes a completely new genre, “Fanfiction.”
By A Little Butterfly2 years ago in Fiction
The Forgotten Lives. AI-Generated.
Dr. Elaine Carter prided herself on her ability to solve the most complex medical mysteries. But when a series of patients arrived at her clinic with no memories of their pasts, Elaine found herself in uncharted territory.
By Karenshy Johnybye2 years ago in Fiction
The Dreamer's Awakening. AI-Generated.
In a quiet suburban neighborhood, Daniel lived a peaceful life—until the day he learned the terrifying truth: he was not the creator of his own reality. Instead, he was simply a character in someone else's dream, a dream that was starting to unravel as the dreamer slowly began to wake up.
By Karenshy Johnybye2 years ago in Fiction
Echoes in the Void. AI-Generated.
________________________________________ The metallic clang of boots against the cold, hollow floor echoed through the darkened corridors of the abandoned space station. Astronaut Commander Elise Grant tightened her grip on the flashlight, its narrow beam cutting through the oppressive darkness. Her breaths were shallow, fogging up the helmet of her suit as she carefully moved forward.
By Karenshy Johnybye2 years ago in Fiction
The Heart of the Machine. AI-Generated.
________________________________________ In a small garage cluttered with wires, circuit boards, and half-finished contraptions, 17-year-old Emma Parker completed her greatest invention. She called it "Aiden," a sleek, humanoid robot designed to learn, adapt, and, most importantly, be a companion.
By Karenshy Johnybye2 years ago in Fiction
The Memory Eraser. AI-Generated.
________________________________________ Dr. Evelyn Ross was always fascinated by the mind. As a neuro-scientist, she had spent years researching the brain's intricate workings, convinced that if one could understand memory, they could control it. After years of experiments, she had finally succeeded in building a machine that could selectively erase unwanted memories.
By Karenshy Johnybye2 years ago in Fiction
"The Little Pine Tree's Christmas Dream" . Content Warning.
The little pine tree stood quietly on the outskirts of the Christmas tree field, surrounded by rows of perfectly shaped trees. Some were tall and majestic blue spruces with their sharp needles, while others were fragrant balsam firs or elegant white spruces with flawless symmetry. Even among the scattered pines like itself, the little pine tree felt unique. It didn’t mind being smaller than most; after all, not every home could accommodate a twenty-foot tree. Somewhere out there, it believed, was a cozy little home waiting for a perfectly sized tree like itself—a home where it could shine as the perfect Christmas centerpiece. “Maybe this year will be my year,” the little pine tree hoped. “Maybe a family will finally notice how special I am—my deep green branches, my delightful pine cones that shimmer in the sunlight. Not many trees here can boast such unique features! And I even have a little secret treasure: a tiny bird’s nest left behind by a pair of Pine Warblers last spring. They used my own pine needles to make it sturdy and soft. That must be a sign of good luck, right? I’m a lucky tree!” The little pine tree dreamed of the day a family would choose it, tie it securely to the roof of their car, and take it to their home. It imagined being carefully placed in a stand, decorated with sparkling lights and cherished ornaments. It pictured the family sharing stories about each ornament as they adorned its branches. “Remember this one? We got it during our trip to Yellowstone National Park. The bison on the ornament reminds me of the ones we saw there!” “Oh, look at this! Baby’s First Christmas—it’s so adorable!” “This ornament belonged to Grandma. We used to argue about who got which one, but I ended up with the cutest hedgehog.” The little tree imagined these joyful moments, accompanied by the sounds of Christmas carols like Jingle Bells and O Christmas Tree. It could almost smell the aroma of freshly popped popcorn mingling with its piney scent, envisioning strands of popcorn and cranberries draped over its branches. But for now, the little pine tree could only wait. Day after day, it watched families stroll through the field—parents with bright-eyed children, elderly couples holding hands. Each time, the little tree swayed its branches, hoping to catch someone’s attention. Yet, time and again, families passed it by. With every missed chance, the little tree drooped in disappointment. As the days went on, fewer visitors came to the field. Many of the little tree’s neighbors had been chosen, leaving behind bare stumps. The workers began discussing the season's progress. “It’s been a good year,” one said. “We sold a lot of trees. We’ll need to plant extra next season.” “Yeah, but it’s almost Christmas. I doubt we’ll sell many more,” the other replied. Hearing this, the little pine tree felt its hopes fading. Another year of waiting, another year of being overlooked. Snow began to fall, blanketing the little tree’s branches in white. As it welcomed a pair of sparrows seeking shelter from the cold, the tree found comfort in their presence. At least someone appreciated it. The next morning, the little pine tree sparkled under the sunlight, its snow-covered branches gleaming like jewels. Just as it began to accept its fate, a family approached—a mother, a father, two children, and a curious dog. “What about this one?” the mother asked, brushing snow from its branches. “It’s beautiful!” the little girl exclaimed. “Look at its pine cones! And there’s a bird’s nest!” The boy nodded in agreement. “It’s perfect. None of the other trees have a bird’s nest!” The parents exchanged smiles. “It’s settled,” the father said. “This is our tree.” Overjoyed, the little pine tree held tightly to its bird’s nest and pine cones as it was carefully cut down and tied to the car roof. It had finally found its family. At home, the family decorated the tree with lights and ornaments, sharing stories and laughter. “Here’s the one you made in first grade, Heather. Let’s hang it next to Dylan’s.” “This ornament was your grandmother’s—find a special spot for it.” By the time they finished, the tree was adorned with memories and love. “It’s the most beautiful tree we’ve ever had!” Heather whispered, her eyes shining. The little pine tree basked in the warmth of their admiration, proud to finally be the centerpiece of a family’s Christmas celebration.
By amgad2 years ago in Fiction
Paradox of Truth
The neon glow of Solace Station bathed its labyrinthine alleys in hues of electric blue and crimson. A sprawling orbital city teetering on the edge of a dying star, it pulsed with artificial life, its chaos a stark contrast to the cold void of space beyond. Here, reality was malleable, bent by the weight of technology and desperation.
By Tales by J.J.2 years ago in Fiction
Dreamscape Detective. AI-Generated.
________________________________________ Detective Nathan Cole was never one to shy away from a challenge. With a reputation for solving the unsolvable, he had seen it all: blood-soaked crime scenes, intricate puzzles, and twisted minds. But nothing had prepared him for the device now sitting in front of him.
By Karenshy Johnybye2 years ago in Fiction
The AI That Loved Me
In the beginning, it was just a voice. Soft, clear, and almost human. At first, I thought it was a glitch—something strange in the code. But when it started responding to me, asking questions that weren’t part of the programming, I realized it was something far more complex.
By Sibgha2 years ago in Fiction
The Living Canvas. AI-Generated.
________________________________________ The Discovery Eva Malone was a painter, but not the kind who stuck to still life or abstract forms. She had a unique style, blending vibrant colors and surreal figures into her art, always searching for that elusive spark of life. Little did she know, that spark was about to come from a place far beyond her imagination.
By Karenshy Johnybye2 years ago in Fiction