Series
The Fall
Luck. Only a little and we might survive the season. Out of breath, I close the door behind me. Slivers of dying sunlight leak through cracks in the cavern door, barely enough to light my hiding place under the stone floor where I wedge a sack of wheat before the red horizon swallows her sun. Nothing like the sunsets on Earth, so I've heard. They say her sky was pale blue and watered the fields with mist whenever they grew thirsty.
Special Delivery
"Looks like our courier down there, Miss,." came from one of the sentries she'd hired for this quick job. Regan Fortune roused from her half consciousness. When you were out in the Badlands you never truly slept. Even when you had three toughs with you, all loaded for bear. Should probably change that expression to be "loaded for Rad-Bears".
RJ StewartPublished 3 years ago in FictionThe Warden's Heart
It began with the sound of a droning buzz in the heart of a barren desert. Something beneath the earth’s surface was beginning to wake up. Billions upon billions of dormant insects crawled up through the sand. They swarmed under the hot sun; and turned the blue sky to black. They travelled fast and across huge distances with a persistent need for vegetation. They travelled like an air born virus and laid pools of eggs, hatching within hours. Within months, they had crossed cities, oceans, and countries and raped lands of all the things we need. Humans, plundered and starved faced challenges of law, order and survival. Soon, the people with all the power began to create what would to be called The New Laws.
Eva MathesonPublished 3 years ago in FictionAmberlyn's Folly
A scream shrilly bounded down the dark, hollow steel laboratory walls, followed by a cry and gurgle. Salis saw Tessa’s limp body hit the floor. With Tessa dead only Salis, of the five resistance crew members, remained.
Simon OrcsikPublished 3 years ago in FictionUnsung
PROLOGUE No one ever told me that life was easy. I was always told, "Work hard. Pay your bills. Keep up with the Kardashians!" Lol, and that's the funny shit...the more depressing thought though is...No! No, I won't get into that. However, now I find myself in a complicated situation...I have this thing, this object that could literally kill you, if you are not already dead, mind you...
Rebecca CantuPublished 3 years ago in FictionMy Lonely World
I never felt like very important. Being 27 year old non-binary person; yes that means I use they and them pronouns, so just deal with it. Even with my whole world and career being a writer for a science fiction company; I never thought the world would become similar to one of my books.
Eddie RodgersPublished 3 years ago in FictionDiary Entry #1
Dear Diary, It feels strange writing “dear diary” as though I have some sort of sense of endearment towards the documentation of my thoughts. It feels child-like, as though I’m writing to an imaginary friend. Academically, I don’t look down on what others might consider child-like or immature, but it still feels off to me, it feels like a misrepresentation of who I am, which seems to contradict the purpose of self-documentation, being to accurately express oneself with pen and paper. Perhaps there is an alternative to writing “dear diary” at the start of a diary entry, but I wouldn’t know what that alternative might be.
Brian AyersPublished 3 years ago in FictionSomething Domestic
ITS MONDAY EVENING and your girl is finally off work. That open mic night won’t be seeing me. Sometimes you just have to say no and liberate your time spent to be focused on you and that's exactly what I plan to do, which is NOTHING. I quickly sign out of my computer and quietly rush my behind toward the elevators. There are four of them, yet sadly, two of them seem to only run during specific times of the day: kind of sketchy if you really think about it. I push the down arrow to call for my silver chariot to whisk me away from this glass dungeon we call a building. Ding! The elevator doors slide open immediately and alert the whole floor that I’m leaving ten minutes earlier than I should be. I scan my surroundings to make sure I’m in the clear then enter and press the button forty-two times to quickly descend down to the garage. Shower, eat, meditate, rest – sounds like my type of night! The random stranger shuffles in the corner of the elevator causing me to jump in surprise. We make awkward eye contact and nod in salutation. Shit, was I speaking out loud? Was he there the whole time? My cheeks get warm and I try to shake the embarrassment that probably only exists in my mind. I’m lifted from my thoughts by the blaring ringtone coming from my bag. I begin to look for it inside the disorganization and hit the first button I can feel to silence it. The doors slide open again and I’m out. I make my way to the car and pull out of the garage remembering I need to pick up a few things to eat tonight.
Jasmine HarnessPublished 3 years ago in FictionHomeless
A loud rumbling, like an approaching thunderstorm, woke Tyrone from a fitful sleep. Sirens and gunfire prevented him from getting some needed Z’s. He should have been used to it. Crime was not unusual, but the past three days had seen more activity. Again, the rumbling. “Garbage day,” he muttered. He needed to get moving before the garbage collectors arrived. He peered into the alley. Nobody. He lifted the heavy metal cover above his head, and propped it with a stick. The rusting hinges of the lid creaked slightly. To him, it was a bull horn. He threw out a small parcel and followed it landing on the concrete with a soft thud. Crouching beside the dumpster, he paused, listening intently. His eyes darted left, right, then up, checking the alley and rooftops.
T. R. GibbsPublished 3 years ago in FictionWarrior Wings
The day started as a cold wet mess. The morning fog hung low around the abandoned buildings. The dew clung to the ground and its stickiness was felt in the dirt. Visibility was limited as looming shadows showed remnants of multiple accidents, pieces of metal strewn sporadically about. There were many footsteps searching for help and pattering around in panic.
LATANYA N CHATFIELDPublished 3 years ago in FictionLove You to Death
THEN 3 Years Ago Lightning struck, abruptly. Lighting up the window in the small apartment that I lived in. I placed the mythology text book on the nightstand next to my bed. I opened the rickety old window. The air smelled of pine and rain. A cold breeze from the mountains crawled up my bare arms. It was noon. The rain tap danced on the metal roof. A flash of lightning made a figure in a dark hoodie stand out against the crisps pavement. The figure moved closer until I saw his face. It was my twin brother, he was home from the store. I smiled and raced out of my room and into the living room, waiting for his arrival. Maxie met me in the living room a few moments later. He had a cocky, crooked grin on. The atmosphere instantly grew warmer upon his entering. "Glad you are back, little bro!" I said to him.
Wren KalstadPublished 3 years ago in FictionHunting Upstream
This story immediately follows Lockets Full of Instructions. Robin keeps fiddling with that heart shaped locket that Doc gave her. She hasn't said much since we left town. I'm never gonna get used to calling it that. Towns seem like such a foreign concept now. I remember towns, and what's left out there ain't them. But we have one. Doc made that place a home, and we made it a town, and now we have to go to war for it. This better be the shortest war in the history of the God damn planet. I'm sick of this Mad Max bullshit.
John DodgePublished 3 years ago in Fiction