Sci Fi
Anna Defies The Locket
My name is Anna Fleming, I am 25 years old and I think today is the last day of my life. Sirens blaring so loudly, a high pitch humming that shook my whole body, trembling like I was standing on an enormous vibrating belt. My heart was pounding like a jackhammer on dry pavement and my face covered in sweat. "What have I done?" I yelled aloud. "I'm so sorry. I did not know this would happen. I wish I could take it back." Crying profusely, barely able to catch my breath hoping someone could hear me over the sound of people running and screaming and buildings crumbling to the ground. All vehicles came to a screeching halt and it seemed as if all life was in instant turmoil and I had caused it. The air pressure became so intense, I felt like my head was in a giant squeeze machine that was getting tighter and tighter against my temples. The temperature felt like it had dropped at least 50 degrees and ice began to form on the roadways. At this moment I knew that me defying the locket had destroyed the entire world. I crawled off the side walk under what was left of a small piece of a crumbled building hoping it would keep me safe while I looked at my phone to get some sort of information on what I should do. Pulling my phone out of my handbag I noticed the screen was shattered. Wiping the sweat and blood from my face I could read: SOMEONE HAS BROKEN THE LAW OF THE LOCKET AND WE ARE ALL GOING TO DIE. I always thought the wrath of the locket was a myth and I did not agree with it making all our life's choices for us. I wanted to live like my ancestors. Free and without limits. I had always followed the law of the locket until yesterday.
By Depeachtreia McLoyd5 years ago in Fiction
Grey city
Adam was a young boy, and the only color he truly knew was grey. He lived in the heart of a sad city, practically abandoned. What human life did reside here, was trapped inside by insurmountable, gateless walls. there was no sun here, so the only light that existed was the grey muddled streams that showed from some of the few surviving streetlamps. Clouds stifled the city, leaving it damp, and causing a constant drip from rooftops to form a lonely background song. The chilling, never-ending breeze whistled between the buildings, always searching for collars to creep down, or any way to disturb a night's rest through the cracks of a building.
By Miqueias Bezerra5 years ago in Fiction
Unit Four
Another chance to reach help. Matt looked out from the bunker. The fog had lifted and he could see all the way across the ruins to his destination. Unit Four was down the hill, across the open field. He would get there. He had to. Everything was different now.
By Mike Goodreau5 years ago in Fiction
Fathoms Deep
It was just after dawn, and all was calm beneath the sea where the crannog lay at rest, its barnacle-encrusted hull half-buried beneath the sand. Ribbons of turquoise light, cast by the morning sun, danced across the surface of the ruin, making it appear all the more beautiful and mysterious.
By Shane Holley5 years ago in Fiction
Alive
My father had told me that the silence was wrong. The forest was once full of life, he had said, and that life would tell travelers when the sun was about to rise. He talked to me about how birds and insects would begin to sing to greet the new day, and the vitality the sun brought with it. Walking down the road with the remains of the silent forest spread out for miles on both sides of me, I can’t help but chuckle at the thought- the sheer absurdity of any living thing greeting their slow death with a cheerful song. Then again, here I am laughing at my own morbid thoughts on a deserted highway. Maybe the animals weren’t wrong after all.
By Joseph Piecuch5 years ago in Fiction
Into the (H)aether
The morning bloomed through the heather. A soft morning, with the sky cast like a child’s breath on a fogged up, window of a ’93 chevy, flying down the coastline to escape the summer’s heat. My name was also Heather. It was an error in the Simulation, that I had been named after the scene in the Sim, in another life I would have probably found the oversight funny but the humour had been wrung out of me, quite some time ago. Now I just blankly held the clothes up to the line and followed the cracks in the Sim with my finger, wondering when I would be let out, when my purpose would come.
By J.R. Nelson 5 years ago in Fiction
Will The Last Person To Leave Please Turn Out The Lights?
We found the Endling by accident. We didn't have the word 'endling' at the time - it was a concept that was obvious when it was explained, but as an idea it hadn't ever been explored by our species. A species was either extinct, or it wasn't.
By Drew Dunlop5 years ago in Fiction
