Sci Fi

Apex
He ran as fast as he could to hide behind some rusted iron and metal eclipsed by shadow. He was breathing harder than what was recommended to him and had almost collapsed from exhaustion. His heart hummed like a beehive, and he covered the nest inside his chest with his palm. The apex was even pointer now and started to pierce thru his skin even more, as his heart was leaning upon his sternum. His flesh was tender and hot to touch. Heart overcooked. Well done heart, well done the escape, from the brass dogs that had chased him for miles. The police had put a chip into the clockwork canines that matched the blood of the boy. He was at the shy age of 7, and had a lot to learn about his “disability”. I just wanted to go outside and play, he thought to himself, as he bent over and held his knees, crying now. Only small echoes of his voice comforted him. Adam had never felt the artifical sunlight touch his skin, but was only fed vitamins to help with his “condition”. He saw a few kids playing outside from the uncomfortable comfort of his nursery upon the synthetic grasses of the city, and had wanted to join them so badly.
By Taylor Boyd5 years ago in Fiction
IN HER HONOUR
They were so close. So close. An intrepid team of three leaving the clinical safety of their bunker, BELLONA, nestled deep in the old civilizations of man, now decimated and reduced to lost memories and rubble. It wasn’t the first time people had left. Some had broken free, seeking those long forsaken, claiming they could hear their loved ones' voices carried by the toxic air in the world above. Most had only gotten a few meters before perishing, some a little further. Skin and muscle papery and pallid from years of indoor isolation was no match for the noxious zephyrs, but even as their body rotted and eyes went milky with blindness, they were mute. Soundless.
By Ellie Reeves5 years ago in Fiction
It's Time to Run Again
The year is 2051. "I know you can run very fast. When I say go, run until you reach that beige house," she tells her six-year-old daughter and ten-year-old son. "I'm right behind you. Just don't stop."
By Dew Langrial5 years ago in Fiction
Truth & Justice
The old man was sitting in the drivers seat of the rusty ole 1973 GMC pickup truck, the barn just in front of the truck was old, built by his great grandfather many years ago. His gaze fixed upon the family crest, an owl with a human skull clutched in its talons, an axe and sword crossed behind the owl. Hüter der Wahrheit on a faded ribbon at the bottom. He had been taught at a young age that those German words mean Keeper of Truth. He had always kept the family oath of Truth and Justice.
By Vern Setser5 years ago in Fiction
Charles the Space Monkey
On a distant planet, light-years upon light-years away from where the planet Earth used to be, a small, genetically engineered hominid slept on a mat. He slowly opened his eyes and stretched his arms. Well, he thought, this wasn’t what I had hoped for. He was, of course referring to the thousands of years he had spent searching for a new planet he could call home. His hairless cousins on Earth had played with his genetic code enough that his aging process had been slowed to almost a halt. He would forever be an eighteen-year-old chimpanzee. The monkey lumbered over to a piece of glass he had found that was reflective, if a little dirty. He looked at himself through the dirt splotched, makeshift mirror and began to groom himself while reflecting on the past, as he so often did.
By Possum5 years ago in Fiction
Night Shadow
Inherited Bungalow My deceased Aunt Lorraine’s small farm was willed to me upon her death. The scanty acreage abutted the Fermilab near Batavia, Illinois, with a bungalow house and a small barn. A covered porch stretched across the entire front of the bungalow, and the barn sat in a semi-circle of sycamore and mulberry trees.
By Andrea Corwin 5 years ago in Fiction
The Cold Fusion Generator
Three mad scientists had been working non-stop to try to find a solution to put an end to the peak oil and energy shortage issues. The problem was getting worse by the day, and it seemed like they were running out of time. If they couldn't find an answer soon, their entire organization would collapse under its own weight. They need energy to keep things rolling, and they need it now more than ever before.
By fery15 years ago in Fiction
The Owl, the Fog, and the Village
It was the perfect night to drive out of the city and into the wilderness . The moon was high and I thought for certain I would be able to take some great pictures. I grabbed my camera and packed a quick snack and took off for the Everglades. The drive was a little longer than usual as I wanted to explore a new spot that I heard had a lot of wildlife. Once there I pulled over on headed out on a trail.
By Laura Cottone5 years ago in Fiction
The Invisible Touch
She recoiled like a mamba. Her skin turned dark and enveloped her whole body. Listy Lowell’s flaxen braids became kinky deep dark brown strands. Tears rolled down her cheeks. Her blue eyes turned hazel.
By Skyler Saunders5 years ago in Fiction
Dear One
I jolted awake. My body was alert and tense. Streams of sweat raced down my back, pooling on a cold metal surface beneath me. My mind lagged trying to grasp my surroundings. On the edge of my consciousness I felt a presence patiently waiting, but right now my main concern was catching my breath. I focused on summoning air from deep inside my diaphragm and drawing it up towards the top of my head. This was the only technique that could, and had, broken the spell of sleep paralysis, which I have endured countless times before.
By Olivia Hamel5 years ago in Fiction
Maiden Voyage of the Tytonidae
9 August 1886 My Dearest Arabella, As I write, my mind drifts to the night we met, how we danced as if we had known each other all our lives. I had never danced so well before, nor have I danced so well since. We slipped away from the dance and sat together, under the full moon, just holding each other and chatting about everything and nothing. When I tried to kiss you, your refusal was so impossibly kind.
By David Brumbaugh5 years ago in Fiction
The Verdant Tower
Day 2 The girl grasped at the ledge as she fell, debris slithered from under her feet and cascaded into the lush glittering depths below. The edge was sheared and sharp, a ruptured steel composite. But it was weathered and pitted like stone that had worn the veil of millennia of rainfall. It had been softened enough to make for a narrowly adequate handhold. Her grip was slipping. She considered just letting go. Her memory was still fuzzy. She couldn’t recall how she had ended up here, what she had left behind, or even who she was. Like she had blinked into existence. She questioned what she was fighting for since she woke, bare and empty like the day she was born.
By JN5 years ago in Fiction