Sci Fi
Snow'den
We drove up the snowy, winding road towards the cozy A-frame cabin. The curve jutted out on the right where a pine tree sat beside the road. It led to the left where it swooped up again. We could see the cabin in the distance when I suddenly woke up inside the living room. The fireplace was roaring before me. I lifted my head as I laid clung to the floor, barely able to raise my hand.
By Lolly Paige Lennox4 years ago in Fiction
Harold's Destiny
We drove up the snowy, winding road towards the cozy A-frame cabin. It really did look lovely, and I was beginning to look forward to a week’s holiday with my mates Brad, Phil, Wallace and Sir Harold Whitaker Stolt III, Destroyer of Worlds. Yes that is his actual name. No I am not joking. His mum and dad took turns naming their kids, and since Harold was the middle child, his dad got to name him. Anyway, we got up to the top of the hill and parked the car. I opened the door to get out, but immediately slammed it shut and exclaimed, "Bugger this, let's go somewhere warmer!", and without hesitation Brad put the car into reverse, and we were rocketing down the mountainside - or rather, off the mountainside - as Brad had been a little bit too keen for our new plan to visit the Caribbean and failed to make the turn in time. As we made our untimely departure from the road, we spent a few seconds plowing through a patch of shrubbery and small trees before bursting out the other side in slow-motion. We spent a brief moment weightless as our Subaru de-forester levitated in the air, not dis-similarly to how a cartoon character would do, before slowly creaking and tilting forward to face the several hundred metre drop that awaited us. We all fastened our seat-belts upon seeing this. As the car began to plummet downwards, racing towards it's terminal velocity like a dog chasing literally anything, Harold began to panic. He did this even despite the large, friendly letters on the cover of his copy of The Hitch-Hikers Guide to The Galaxy specifically instructing him otherwise. "Brad you bloody plonker! You've killed us! We're all going to die!"
By Daniel Lowe4 years ago in Fiction
The Gift
0400 GMT. The present was waiting for me when I stepped outside. It gleamed and shimmered with rainbow hues, wrapped in what looked like pearlescent paper. On top was a diaphanous collection of loops and whorls. In those first few moments of shock it looked like the most beautifully wrapped birthday gift I'd ever seen.
By Robin Andrew Blair4 years ago in Fiction
The Rescued
A few years ago, I was published as part of an anthology project surrounding the concept that there was life on Venus. We collaborated on world-building, and it was a lot of fun! Unfortunately, the publisher had to close, and so the anthology can no longer be found on Amazon. This was the story I published.
By Chelsea Magwire4 years ago in Fiction
Killer Cabin
We drove up the snowy, winding road towards the cozy A-frame cabin, excitement slowly building in my chest. I looked to my right at my new girlfriend Suzanna, Suzi for short, man she was gorgeous with long red hair, and bright green eyes with a perfect dusting of freckles across her face. She had a body to kill for, the buttons of her blouse straining to hold her shirt closed, and her leggings leaving almost nothing to the imagination. She was quite the opposite of Rebecca who was sitting in the passenger seat. Rebecca was very plain; hell, a flagpole had more curves than her. She had mousey brown hair with dull brown eyes, her clothes refused to flatter her body and she always seemed a little lost. That would leave Alice who was the driver of this trip. She had raven black hair with icy blue eyes and a face that seemed allergic to smiling. She was quite beautiful to look at, but to be honest she kind of scared me. I hope she won’t be a problem this weekend.
By David Dawsey4 years ago in Fiction
Tomorrow Will Be Different
Every night I go to bed after the sun sets, and every morning I wake when the sun rises. I have no internal alarm clock, not an external one either, so I sleep with the sun, regardless of the season. I am not sure what day, month, or year it is, but I know that I am alive, and alone.
By Victoria Rivera4 years ago in Fiction
