Sci Fi
Plutos Plague
The cafés fittings began to vibrate, cups contents started to ripple, and its occupants barely sat up from their slouches as the metal leviathan thundered through the station, slowing to a stop along the platform the train bellowed its low howl and hundreds of magpies burst forth frightened from their alcoves circling the air on black and white wings “Well” Alexis sighed arms folded against the early morning chill glancing over at the newly arrived train “our coffins here”.
By Riley Seabrook5 years ago in Fiction
The Sunken City
The few who survived the flash sauntered along the barren road in a bleary daze. Exhausted and stupefied, a band of ragged and disheveled youths dragged their footsteps along against the blazing heat. The pack was led by a boy of sixteen. Behind him trudged ten, six boys and four girls, all younger and (more unsure of themselves). It was Luke’s naturally assertive and commanding demeanor that convinced the reluctant children to depart from the ruined town in search of other survivors. The troop of kids were playing within an old bunker when death swept across the land and decimated everything within its path. When the deafening crash thundered across the sky, the children hurried up the ladder, and in vain, pushed against the hatch. The howling wind of a thousand gales pressurized against the vault and trapped the children for four days. When the wind ceased, it was immediately noticeable; it was as if someone were clapping cymbals in their ears without pause for days on end and suddenly relented. In fact, the abrupt quietude filled the air almost as quickly as did the howling, and from their restless sleep did the children awaken and anxiously scramble up the ladder. The open air was clogged with a thick layer of sand and sent the children immediately into fits of coughing. The wind, although distinctly calmer, still blew turbulently. The sky was a terrible haze of deep orange and sanguine streaks, and against the dust, the sun struggled to pierce through. Fine sand particles moving through the turbulent gusts of air scratched at the children’s exposed eyes and effectively blinded them, sending the investigation party back beneath the ground.The sand-beaten children sat rubbing at their irritated eyes, while those who had remained underground waited impatiently for a report.
By Jonah Blue Krell5 years ago in Fiction
Just Close Your Eyes
I’ve always figured something is wrong with me. It has something to do with the thoughts running around in my mind. The madness up there is tolerable when the sun is out. Sometimes I wonder why we chose these hours to be awake. Who made the rules?
By Casey Burns5 years ago in Fiction
A Fine Harvest Day
It was all Din could do to suppress her laughter at the irony of the pain and fear she felt. Pain was natural, stemming from the familiar throbbing of the bullet lodged in her right shoulder blade. Her fear, though, was that primal terror all of humanity had felt; the knowledge that everything had gone to hell, and she was powerless to stop it.
By Jacob Tedrow5 years ago in Fiction
Neon Groove
NOBODY CAN HEAR A SCREAM IN THE VACUUM OF SPACE, OR SO THEY SAY. That was written on the yellow post-it note on the bottle of Saint-Emilion ‘92 La Mondotte Merlot that John had balanced on the railing of the balcony next to the Doors album. His lucky locket, the heart-shaped one he had bought for half a peso in Tijuana, was bound firmly around his neck. In all honesty, he had no idea what that meant, but underneath it, someone had written THIS SHIT COST ALMOST $300 SO DON’T DRINK IT DEREK!!!
By Steve Hanson5 years ago in Fiction
