fantasy
Celebrating the fantastical. Let your imagination run wild.
The Room at the Top of the Stairs
His parents had been together a very long time. Whenever they would begin to argue, they would decide to paint a mural in the room at the top of the stairs. Mateo was never allowed in this room. His parents warned him of its danger every time he asked about it, saying he could see it one day when he was ready.
Abigail WadsworthPublished 5 years ago in FuturismLa Luna
It was a pleasure to feast. To hunt under a night sky that condemned him to tear the linen from his body and run freely through a decomposing wood was storybook. A man would forever have desires, and although most men lusted over the blonde at the local inn that had been giving him eyes all night, or really any ladies thighs they could bury their heads between, Isaac fawned for what was really underneath her breasts.
Izzy FinlayPublished 5 years ago in FuturismThe Fall to Earth
Abaddon, myself, and Abalam; the new Revered gather our council of new knights. "When you said to turn your gaze to Earth, that may have been a bit more ambitious than we are ready for," I suggest to Abalam.
Elijah TaylorPublished 5 years ago in FuturismJessica Wind Adventures - (Bk.1)
Read my other Short Stories at: Deep Sky Stories & Illustrations D. I. I. V. E. - (A Jessica Wind Adventure) - by G. F. Brynn
G.F. BrynnPublished 5 years ago in FuturismI See You
I was a lousy student. I never did anything special with my life. I certainly not invented the wheel nor the four-hole button. I was like half of the population, boringly ordinary. I lived the first 20 years of my life in the shadow of my big brother who was a pop star (God help me). He wasn't just a singer, he was also an asshole—really big one. Everything seems to fall into his lap, the women, the money, the popularity. As for me, I was left hanging dry by all members of my own family. I suppose I wasn't rich enough for them to notice me or to care for that matter.
Singster JonesPublished 5 years ago in FuturismNo Such Thing as Pure
The curtains on my eyes spread open. I sat up in bed with my hand on my chest and looked over at Justin sleeping on my right. I lifted my hand and stroked his hair, gazing at his blissful face with familiar eyes of love for him and envy that he could sleep without much to worry about. That night wasn’t my first time seeing the Devil in my sleep, but it was my first time in years that I felt anxious after seeing him. I could still hear the last words spoken before I woke up:
Monique StarPublished 5 years ago in FuturismHope Amidst (Prologue)
The room was spinning, the light sparking in the tears stuck in Clara’s eyes. She felt her body collapse to the floor, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered in that moment. Breathing was an afterthought, and why was her heart pounding so hard against her ribs like that?
Brynne NelsonPublished 5 years ago in FuturismThe Two Eyed Girl
She stood amongst her friends, just chatting away. I heard something about how she swallowed her own eyes to clean them when they got dirty. She had to be talking about a story. Maybe. I shifted in my seat and focused on her eyes. They were two different colors. One a vibrant blue and the other a rather dull shade of red. They looked weird but at the same time a little mesmerizing. Her skin was a creamy kind of tan color and every time she moved, the sunlight from the window seemed to change the color of her skin. First, it was caramel then it looked like whipped cream. In one instance, it looked red. Her hair sprouted from her head a variety of colored strands. All the colors were dullish but stood out amongst their counterparts. Yellows, reds, blacks, and a few silver hairs ran from the top of her head, around her face and down to her shoulders. It looked like a rainbow slowly losing its color but it didn’t look bad. It gave her a mature sort of look. Her outfit consisted of a plain white T-shirt and flower print pants.
Bruce ArnoldPublished 5 years ago in FuturismDon't Kiss Me (Ch. 5)
A 17-year-old, Raven Fields, never being kissed before is a bit abnormal nowadays. Though in Raven's case, he's never been normal and he knows it because of his succubus mother. With a human father, he has a chance to be normal as well, but if he ever exchanged fluids with another before his body matured, his whole world would change. Growing up knowing he could never feed, even by mistake, takes a tole on a once so bright young lad.
S.M. TOZERPublished 5 years ago in FuturismDon't Kiss Me (Ch. 4)
A 17-year-old, Raven Fields, never being kissed before is a bit abnormal nowadays. Though in Raven's case, he's never been normal and he knows it because of his succubus mother. With a human father, he has a chance to be normal as well, but if he ever exchanged fluids with another before his body matured, his whole world would change. Growing up knowing he could never feed, even by mistake, takes a tole on a once so bright young lad.
S.M. TOZERPublished 5 years ago in FuturismDon't Kiss Me (Ch. 3)
A 17-year-old, Raven Fields, never being kissed before is a bit abnormal nowadays. Though in Raven's case, he's never been normal and he knows it because of his succubus mother. With a human father, he has a chance to be normal as well, but if he ever exchanged fluids with another before his body matured his whole world would change. Growing up knowing he could never feed, even by mistake, takes a tole on a once so bright young lad.
S.M. TOZERPublished 5 years ago in FuturismUnforeseen Forces
It was a crisp southern fall morning. The breeze was more like an old snowman’s breath, cool and light. The sky was a soft rich blue. Mommy duties complete nature offered a break in time. A core recharging breath and linear time didn't exist. Having learned to utilize the Internet to grow my small business, I got on the line. Looking to network and advocate my personal mission for the day, I logged into social media. The first images I saw sent shockwaves hitting the pit of my stomach. Time all out melted and faded away. The serene morning songs of the birds had been placed on mute and the silence was deafening.
Maria CrankPublished 5 years ago in Futurism