Sci Fi

The Light of the Desert: The Story of Bilal ibn Rabah (RA)
Heavy with the sun, with its rays scorching the desert into an oven of light and heat, the sun stood over Mecca. In a small corner near the Kaaba, a man was lying on the ground chained to the burning sand, his back raw from the whip, his lips dry and cracked. Each inhalation was punctuated by pain but from his shaking lips was uttered a word that would not die.
By Nusukiabout a year ago in Fiction
Escape!
They dragged Elon toward the East Wing. The room at the back of the bunker, Elon thought, it’s a cryochamber! He saw the Trump animatronic chatting at a pair of his lookalikes.
By Stephanie Hoogstadabout a year ago in Fiction
THE WORLD BEYOND
The hallway light was out. Again. Nora’s slippers made no sound as she padded down the narrow corridor toward the guest room, using her phone as a flashlight. The house was half asleep, breathing its old wood creaks and the faint hum of the refrigerator.
By Pamela Dirrabout a year ago in Fiction
To Raise a Planet
“Isn’t this nice? Watching the children. They grow up so fast.” She sighed dramatically as they sat on a crater rim of Callisto enjoying the crisp pinpoint of sunlight down the gravity well they’d spent eons shaping.
By majokiabout a year ago in Fiction
along the margins
Up ahead on the high bluff, the first responders could see where the manor had violently collapsed into the surf. The receding storm surge finally allowed for a cautious approach to the wreckage to search for survivors. There were none.
By majokiabout a year ago in Fiction
The Forbidden Mountain of Russia: The Pulse of the Damned
The crystalline resin crept up Donovan’s arms like frozen ivy, a searing cold that burned deeper than any flame. Each tiny, hexagonal facet pulsed with the same faint red light that illuminated the chamber, syncing with the relentless thump-thump-THUMP that vibrated through the metal floor. The reanimated figures—their faces hollowed out by frost and eternal agony—held him fast, their grip iron-strong. The voice of KROVI, a horrifying choir stitched from the stolen voices of the Frozen Five, echoed not just in the air, but inside the very marrow of his bones.
By Wellova about a year ago in Fiction
The Elite
Secret Service agents appeared at Elon’s sides and grabbed his arms. By their strength, they had to be animatronics. “Why?” Elon asked. “If you are sure that I will return to a ruined planet, why not let me leave?”
By Stephanie Hoogstadabout a year ago in Fiction
Zairajah
It started with a chatbot and ended in, well, that would be predicting the future. Which is exactly my problem. I’m sure I’m not the only computer science graduate student into astrology, Tarot cards, numerology, palm reading, and other fortune-telly kind of things, but I’m the one who, late one night, asked a chatbot I was beta testing in the lab to read my fortune. The bot spit back hallucinatory hogwash, so I tried to nudge its predictive capacity by asking it to rate history’s greatest prognosticators. I was thinking I’d get a list like: Pythia, Nostradamus, Arvidsson, Cayce, Dixon, Vanga--even Houdini.
By majokiabout a year ago in Fiction
Nonrandom Access
Ever the entrepreneur, he put out a shingle: Claude Computing. 967.3 days later Claude had his first customer. 8,714.6 days after that the customer returned.
By majokiabout a year ago in Fiction
The Break-In
Elon snuck from drawer to drawer, searching the desk. Suddenly, the light turned on. “What are you doing?” his commanding lookalike demanded.
By Stephanie Hoogstadabout a year ago in Fiction
Jenny and the Cleaner Episode 1
Jenny and the Cleaner Episode 1 DISCLAIMER This is to acknowledge that my good friend Doc Sherwood has graciously given permission to use some of his characters in Jenny and the Cleaner. In fact, it was Doc Sherwood who encouraged me to share this story publicly.
By Danforth Greenwoodabout a year ago in Fiction
Echoes of the Ninth Signal
The city that pulsed under neon lights, restless and alive. Steam hissing from subway grates, twisting in the glow of flickering advertisements like ghostly fingers. At 2:03 a.m., the Ninth Signal cracked across the network which was sharp, impossible, and undeniably present. Mara, who felt it before she heard it, a vibration that rattled her chest and settled into her bones. Her screen exploded into static, then stilled, revealing nothing but a black void..
By AFCabout a year ago in Fiction