Sci Fi
Nothing good ever happens after 2am
Sean woke to the sound of banging at his door. He peered at the clock next to his bed, and it read 2:32am. He wondered who on earth could possibly be banging such a racket at this ridiculous hour. As he raised himself to a seated position and swung his legs off the edge of his bed, he pondered the reason for this unwelcome intrusion into his sleep. No-one ever calls with good news at a time like this. He yawned and scratched the back of his head until the echoing bang started again.
By Luke Foster5 years ago in Fiction
Going Under
She hadn’t always been a monster. Before, she never would have mercilessly slaughtered her ex husband and his new wife. But, as she was quickly finding out, there were a lot of things she never would have done before that she had no qualms doing now. As she watched, dispassionately, the blood that ran steadily down the once blank white walls puddled into the carpet next to the off-white loveseat. In fact, it was the same one that he had proposed to her on. The room was large and spacious, with a 85-inch HD television mantled over the fireplace. It was separated from the loveseat and matching furniture by an opaque glass table that held various knickknacks that only uber rich people seemed to have. The living room was just a short trip down the hall from the parlor room, which housed the front door that she had unceremoniously ripped off its hinges. Her iron tipped nails had shredded skin embedded underneath them. With a small smile, she studied the unrecognizable forms of her former lover and his newest trophy wife, still entwined in what would be their final embrace. Her once warm and kind blue eyes had hardened into ice. Her mouth that once smiled willingly was fixed in a stoic line, lips thinned and white from pressing against her slightly elongated canines that had emerged during the bout of bloodlust. There were many different aspects of her life that had changed after the classified government experiment that had gone so horribly wrong, amongst them her inability to live without the blood and flesh of living beings. She thought how much more merciful it would have been to be incompatible with the demons. Studying her fingers, longer and more elegant than they had been in her previous life, she had to admit the perks weren’t so bad.
By Tatyana Tieken5 years ago in Fiction
Creating Some Content
Grindopolis was equatorial, but the climes to which Neetra and Joe’s interplanetary teleport brought them would on Earth have been somewhere in the darkest South Pacific. Waves blasted themselves white against a coastline of sheer basalt cliffs, while volcanoes grumbled redly in the distance. All Nereynis would have been thus before the world so much as froze, and the universe itself was still cooling. Lingering vestiges of sunset hung on a sky of luminous black.
By Doc Sherwood5 years ago in Fiction
Memoria
Listen to the recorded story on Spotify: (Available on all major platforms—full list here) **Update: It has been long enough since I first posted this that Book 3 is now released! Go check out Heroes and see if Marissa did indeed take any cues from this alternate ending.**
By Stephen A. Roddewig5 years ago in Fiction
Tales of the Sentinel Space Guard
The instructors loud, brazen voice immediately demanded the upmost respect whenever he talked. Michael and the others released me and the entire class stood up tall and ready to start the journey of a Sentinel. As we’re standing straight and looking ahead of us, instructor walked through the crowd and personal sized up everyone in the class.
By Dante Maroni 5 years ago in Fiction
Winter
I watched intrepidly as my colleagues stared at various computer screens around the lab, trying to pay attention to the fifty-some-odd tasks that went into the current trial. They wore something akin to a hazmat suit, protecting themselves and the delicate machinery that was in the hermetically sealed room. I sighed, my breath fogging the window that separated me from the lab. I’m glad to not be as technically involved this time, as I didn’t care for the full-body protective gear. The suits grew uncomfortably warm after a few minutes of mild activity, and those actually in the room had to wear them for hours at a time. I did it once or twice in the beginning, but I eventually made it a priority to avoid wearing them at all costs. I suppose that's one of the perks of being one of the lead researchers involved, my job slowly morphed into an “overseeing” role as we made more progress and acquired more funding, allowing our initial group of four scientists to expand tenfold. So many new faces are being brought into our little world. I remember when Kelvin Laboratories first opened and I was a much younger man, working in a much smaller lab. They didn’t have as much funding, only taking on smaller projects, certainly not as important as the work I did now. When Kelvin opened a branch nearby, the smaller lab was destined to go under, being unable to compete with the pace that Kelvin was going to set. I left as soon as I could because I knew I was meant for more important work than the smaller lab could offer. Shortly after I joined Kelvin, we made massive contributions to the renewable energy community, thus establishing our dominance in the area and our position as the global forerunner of science and innovation. My specialty was in thermodynamics and much of my preliminary work was in that field. I worked in that path for the first half of my career, harnessing the laws of heat and energy to accomplish incredible feats. I was proud of my work and while satisfied with my current position, sought to rise higher. I thought that the opportunity would never come until I received a “summons” from the administrative council that ran the lab.
By Brendan Burns5 years ago in Fiction
All Or Nothing (Continued)
Chapter 7 “Everywhere we go, we hear the same complaints,” Apsu said into his wrist device. He was sitting in a shuttle just outside of one of the mining camps. “leg pain and back pain. They look at me as if I should have some answers, but I’m not a doctor. I don’t know what to tell them.”
By Susan F Weimer5 years ago in Fiction
