Fantasy
The Upper Cradle Galactic Prix
I sat hunched over my strider gazing down into Gransen's Gully, winding up for my warmup run. At this point, I've memorized every inch of the winding terrain, tracing air-dusted skid marks into the minutest corner of the most hidden back alley. A lot of oddities packed into this canyon. One time, I found a camp of squatters who claimed they were sent here to search for the next coming of some god named Hystron. They said the only thing they needed to survive was their faith and the occasional skitter lizard. Nice people, I still bring them lizards from time to time. Anyways, as I’m looking down into the gully I feel a rush of excitement overtake me. Even though I’ve run this gully day in and day out any chance I could get since I could sit up straight on a strider, this would be the first time I was actually getting to compete in it. It’s not every day the Galactic Prix gets dropped on your doorstep begging you to compete against the best in the Upper Cradle. The competition may not have been until tomorrow but I needed to practice like it was today.
By A.C Hofstetter5 years ago in Fiction
Empathy Irrigation
The world didn’t end with a bang. It was such a subtle change, that it took a while for anyone to even realize what had happened. That had been the plan of course, no need for there to be nasty rebellions. Slowly, people began to feel less and less. They devoted their time and attention to devices and forgot what it was like to be alive. Existence was all that they knew. Once that happened, the next phase was put into place. Some of it was just survival, the other part was a gas that was carefully distributed into the air by AngeloCorp. This company was an underground society of the world's elite. This chemical took what had been in the works for years and escalated it. The cloud of existence that people found themselves became all consumed, and many took on sociopathic attitudes. It had brought their selfish impulses to the surface. A good deal of the population was killed as the level of violence escalated. Death by starvation was now common in countries that were once considered prosperous.
By Mairi Brinkman5 years ago in Fiction
The Empty: And the Girl who Saves the World.
We all fantasized of the world ending in a zombie apocalypse, or some other overly cliche chaotic nightmare come to life. And maybe we imagined that particular doomsday because it made us feel comfortable in the hope that the world would recover; that the monsters were flesh, something we could kill. But the real monsters were in the minds of humankind; still living, and breathing, and not feeding off each other’s organs, but our fear. The Apocalypse came in “The Empty”, where we lost our sense of humanity, and exchanged our compassion for hate. The first one to choose this; a man the world saw as our savior led the population to blind themselves from the truth. He figured out how to get us to flip a switch to our emotions, to turn on each other, and forget who we were. A few of us Awake remain, and the rest sleep in their heads; walking the Earth dead in their hearts, and minds, tearing the earth apart in fire and lies. My name is Nakona Wilde, and I am the girl in this story who changes its end.
By Rita Montgomery (Pearl M.)5 years ago in Fiction
Palette
The world was mute. I was walking roads I recognized; but everything felt foreign to my body. Visually everything was in the right place and where it should be, but something seemed off. I was strolling down my old neighborhood. Passing my friend’s house, then my house, an old tree me and my childhood friends would hang out at after school, and a pond close by where we ice skated many cold winter nights. Seeing these mementos submerged me in my nostalgia, until all I saw were memories that were long repressed surrounding me at all sides. It brought tears to my eyes seeing friends I hadn’t seen in decades, feeling as if I never left. I was filled with a feeling of love and warmth, and taken back to a time period where everything was simple. But that warm feeling soon went cold. I opened my eyes to see the color palette of the world had drained. The outline of everything was still there, I was just surrounded by a void of black and white. It was strangely beautiful. I kept walking down my neighborhood road until it intersected with the community park. I loved this park as a kid, it brought a smile to my face remembering all the hide and seek games I played here as a child. Remembering these thoughts and memories were great, but I don’t know why I’m here. It feels as if the world hiccupped and I was placed in an area of limbo. The world was still, and quiet. Almost as if a vacuum were keeping the noises from escaping. But as I was cresting a hill, a little ways away from the playground, I heard the faint sound of a chain creaking in the distance. It almost hurt my ears to hear a sound again. I tried to move but I couldn’t. I was frozen in place. As if I weren’t the one who controlled my body anymore. I was so focused on the fear I felt on not being able to hear, that I didn’t even notice what was in front of me. The creaking of the chain continued, and I was barely able to shift my eyes down enough to see a kid sitting on a swing set. Their presence brought an overwhelming amount of fear in my body. I just knew they shouldn’t be here. That they didn’t belong. They were swinging back and forth, but fazing in and out of static. Cascading pink’s and red swirled around them as they glitched back and forth seeming like a virus to this world. I wanted to go. I wanted to run, but I couldn’t. I went to scream but nothing came out, I was paralyzed. I was filled with a feeling of dread, as if this were the end. I closed my eyes to look away from the bright array of colors clouding my vision, but when I opened them I had control of my body again. I looked around and I was exactly where I was left off before, but instead this time, the world was basked in color. I saw children running around in the playground and families sitting together feeding the ducks. The atmosphere was filled with laughter and car horns in the distance. I could feel and hear again. But then it hit me. I turned to look at the swing set where I saw the kid before, but there was no one there. There was no one there, but the swing was still swinging back and forth.
By James Hochstetler5 years ago in Fiction
Gilded
Hour 1 Sitting up in bed I can still hear them prattling on about the Golden Age. Trading hilarious stories until they erupt into raucous laughter was the only pause to their incessant talking. Before leaving my room, I marked again. I used to count every morning but now I know by heart; it is day 10,036. It’s been 27 years, 6 months, and 1 day since Three Head left us. That’s when everything stopped. The need to eat, drink, even breathe. There is no more night and day, only a dull orb that hangs in the sky providing just enough light to see. We were abandoned not only by our god but by life itself. That’s when we realized we had no idea how to deal with challenges beyond what to wear to the next banquet. All we did was party, lived in excess, and reveled irresponsibly.
By Chrissy Thompson5 years ago in Fiction
The Brilliance of Pearls
You are my sunshine, My only sunshine, Now you're gone dear, But I'm still here. There is a moment when you first wake up when you have some peace. You mistakenly believe the world is still the same. That moment doesn’t last long. Your eyes open, the peaceful moment passes, then grief falls on you like a monster. It settles over every part of you, smothering you, choking the life out of you, weighing you down, crushing your heart again. You can’t breathe. Tears begin to sneak out of your eyes, despite the fact you were only able to fall asleep because you had finally cried all your tears. Somehow the morning always brings more tears. The peace you felt for two seconds was brutally ripped away again. Day after day after day you wake up, wishing you hadn’t.
By Jerene Buckles5 years ago in Fiction
The Last Assassin
The Last Assassin September 18 2027. It's been 3 months since the end of the outbreak me and my little brother are still alone our parents died before the outbreak they were both leaders of mafia groups thats actually how they met but thats a different story for another time. they were attacked when i was 10 my brother was only 3 they were murdered right in front of us i held my mom in my arms as she slowly drifted away. Before she died she handed me a silver heart shaped locket. When I opened it up it had our favorite picture of me my mom, dad and my little brother JJ in it. I had to look over JJ through the outbreak. It wasn't easy but we got through it and now here we are. I'm now 19 and he is 12. I have taught him alot. My parents taught me how to be a trained assassin when I was young if I had to protect myself and that helped a lot with the zombies. There is a group of people that the zombies have corrupted and now they are trying to keep the population down they call themselves the knight walkers because that is when they are most active.
By Ember Durham 5 years ago in Fiction
Who Loves Me?
2063 Andrina ran. She ran as fast as her legs would take her. The trees raked their branches across her skin and the dirt flung itself to spot her white dress and coat her feet in its murky darkness. Her copper hair flailed itself behind her in a wild mess as she ran for her life. They had finally come. It was her time for the awakening and they knew, they knew she would fight. Her vision had never been her strength but her ears had guided her through this forest for the last 16 years. She knew it better than most and certainly more than the infantry scum that had come for her. She heard the whooshing of the creek faintly to her right and so she veered left. Andrina knew they would assume she would seek refuge with others, and a creek meant a river and a river meant people, if there were any left.
By Amy Volavka5 years ago in Fiction
