Sci Fi
The Net
The sky above Sector 4 glowed with a deep, mechanical blue as the sound of robots and machines hummed steadily. Leo stepped outside, onto the gray and lifeless concrete, carrying his rusty tools, and started to walk towards his job. As he walked through the neighborhood, the music of nursery rhymes echoed through the walls. “The net keeps you safe, the net keeps you sound, the net protects us all, the net protects our dreams,” it sang, glitching at every word. The rhyme left a sour taste in his mouth and an unsettling feeling in his stomach. He felt all the emotions he wasn’t supposed to feel if he was truly happy in this hell-hole.
By Ankitaa Arun💕5 days ago in Fiction
The Starweaver's Last Thread. AI-Generated.
Mira's fingers moved through the void, pulling threads of starlight into intricate patterns that would become tomorrow's constellations. She worked alone in the Loom Chamber, suspended in the space between dimensions where causality bent like silk.
By Alpha Cortex6 days ago in Fiction
Okay...... Content Warning.
Everyone walks and just keeps walking. No one stares or says a thing; they just keep walking. They say nothing as she walks among them. Her beauty is overwhelming, yet her pigmentation doesn't set off alarms. She looks as though she's been drinking too much carrot juice or has taken too many beta carotene tablets.
By John Scipio6 days ago in Fiction
Rock And Roll
His name was Eddie Funsull, they took him one night, put him in a van and took him away. They didn't like him, his music, or the way he looked. He stood out. He was one of the few Black guys in the Goth rock scene in town. But it wasn't because he was Black that they took him, it was the fact that he wasn't afraid to be what he sang about. Rock Music was his life. He lived for it. When he took the stage, it was as if he transcended time and space, as if he wasn't part of human existence. He'd sing of love lost, love yet to be, he'd sing of the freedom of existing beyond the constraints of conformity, about being that creature that we all longed to be but feared because of the doldrums of life, family, and its traditions.
By John Scipio6 days ago in Fiction
Right Instead of Left. Content Warning.
Vera usually kept quiet, but tonight Marigold’s elaborate fantasy of metamorphism into a mosquito made her erupt with laughter. Marigold had been interned on Serapis for stealing and consuming nearly a gallon of O-positive from a blood bank on Earth.
By Bride of Sound8 days ago in Fiction
