fantasy
Celebrating the fantastical. Let your imagination run wild.
Pulvis et umbra sumus
“Humans like money, don’t you?” Three years, three years together and those were his last words. Money… Maxime looked at the ceiling fan, he looked at the blades and blankly let his gaze be entertained by the white vanes. He rolled over to the side of the bed and touched the cold marble. Twenty thousand dollars and he was gone. Gone like he arrived. Like a lighting bringing back the day in the night sky he appeared and just like a thunder he disappeared, the echo of his presence reverberating inside Maxime’s memory.
By Elio Ardizzone6 years ago in Futurism
A Conjuring and A Summons
Salamance sits his spectacles on the ridge of his nose, just so. His hair hangs silver and grey to his shoulders, framing an aging square face. A broad-barreled chest like a builder and the burnt, speckled powerful hands of a blacksmith. Gloves of dead, callused skin. His Familiar, Darkwood looks him up and down. A cat enchanted to be the size of a tiger, with fur so impossibly black, the only discernible features are his giant pale green eyes. Even in full sun, no light can penetrate the void of his form. The Familiar looks at Salamance.
By Sophie Chandler6 years ago in Futurism
The Property of Emit
I could hear the train faintly humming closer as I scrambled to find my subway card for the ticket turnstiles. The shrill voice of the announcer increasing my level of anxiety. I shove my card into the machine and hurl my body propelling forward through the silver metal bars that squish my sandwich lunch. "Excuse me!" I mumble, dodging people walking the opposite way, leaping five stairs at a time, only to look up and see the subway doors starting to close as the conductor blows his whistle and a polite, yet very defeating operator voice says "Please stand clear, the doors are now closing." I lunge, eyes wide with desperation as they slam in my face... and everyone inside gives me THAT smirk. Because, well, they’ve been me too.
By Natalie-Monique Le Sueur6 years ago in Futurism
The Cloaked Figure
The sun’s smiling rays spread across a vast field, touching the skin of a young girl resting beneath a willow tree, it’s roots sinking deep into water. Her heavy eyelids began to close as she drifted off to sleep. Dark brown hair spilled across her shoulders in a tangled mess, her breathing beginning to deepen.
By Danielle Aylett6 years ago in Futurism
Black Girl Magic
It was a typical enough, overcast Friday for a late September afternoon in Oakland. Kayla Holmes was doing what she typically did on afternoons when she didn’t have extra-curricular activities or plans with friends, tucking herself up under blankets and curling into the arm of the big red chair to read.
By Grassy Knoll6 years ago in Futurism
Felix Culpa
The city of Potosi is one of mystery and tragedy. Before the rule of King Malum the city was a prospering place to live. King Malum began enslaving people of Potosi to grow tobacco and mine silver as offerings to give the diety of the silver mountain, named El Tio, whose greed was insatiable much like the kings. Rumor has it that hundreds of innocent souls were
By Jaimie Arreola6 years ago in Futurism
The Wasteland
The auburn rays blended into the purple of the clouds overcasting the desert skies. The sound of shifting metal clattered down the dusty unpaved route. A caravan made of hefty armored siding and re-inflated tires bounced heavily as it motioned onward over rock and sand. The outside a patch-work of rusted repurposed metal and tin shook with hollow echoes. However inside, a youthful figure comfortably laid across the truck’s floor. His arms resting under his head and one leg over a raised and bent knee. Just behind his head was a small door leading to the driver seat of the transport. In the chair sat a male, covered in a full suit of armor. A mix of robotics and some unknown faction of military tech. His visor blocking out all view of his eyes and nose. His mouth was covered by a separate guard that kept it unviewable. However, despite this, he still spoke out from the communicator device in the helm. His voice just as clear as anyone’s but the undertone of a muffled speaker.
By M.K. Jordan6 years ago in Futurism
The Olympians
Somewhere above Thessaly – 10th year of fighting Poseidon ripped his trident from the body of the man, watching as he fell to the earth in a bundle of bloody limbs. Sighing he glided down towards the ravaged ground and touched down, exhaustion in every line of his body.
By Toni Petto6 years ago in Futurism
The Island of the Black Book
Walking down the stone corridor of an abandoned Medieval castle, Professor Reitgar De Vries shined his torch into the darkness of the oncoming passageway, holding his breath that the worse thing to be found in the shadows were mice and spiders. At the same time, De Vries prayed that the Lithium battery would still continue to shine for a little while longer.
By William Gold6 years ago in Futurism
