Science Rhymes with Compliance by WarNightZollo, literature
Literature
Science Rhymes with Compliance
The halls of science tell this tell…
Hope this is what one young girl wanted for the world. In order to accomplish her dream. She left her family. Following the path leading out of town. After having packed some resources. Including rare material. That had been recycled. From the recent war that had occurred. After a couple of days. The child came upon a stream. Sitting down she opened her travel sack. Only some bread remained. Just as she was about to eat it.
Footsteps could be heard from behind. An elegant looking woman stood next to where she was. She looked at the bread that the smaller woman held. Never taking her eyes off of it
When Night Fell
By Tricia Pattinson
Chapter 1a
How could one prepare for the dying of the Sun; the dark face of the Moon?
The plight that follows?
The last glimpse of the Sun was a gift to the Southern Hemisphere's
summer, while the Northern Hemisphere's winter had grown momentarily
viciously indifferent to humanity's suffering. The unexpected flicker. The
fizzle of the winds. The night sky view of the Milky Way disappearing with
a curtain fell. Arctic temperatures stomped the globe heavily. For all but
the gasps of fright
Stealth Mission (an OC story) by TheMagnificentMorado, literature
Literature
Stealth Mission (an OC story)
Asmat had been trying to clear her mind so she could focus on praying, but the other women’s cries…they were too much for her to bear.
She had really hoped that she would be able to pray today. In the situation she was in, prayer was the only thing she had left. If she were to let go of praying, of her faith, she knew that she might as well give up on her life.
She turned to the loudest source of crying, a girl of fourteen years named Brook, and awkwardly waved her arms in an attempt to get her attention.
“Hey. Hey.” Brook hiccuped at the sound of Asmat’s voice. The tiny, freckled blonde had made a habit of fo
A Beauty That Never Fades by OnLinedPaper, literature
Literature
A Beauty That Never Fades
Sometimes he wished he could answer their prayers. Understanding the labyrinth of rules that bound him did little to alleviate the pain of adhering to them, though he at least felt better now, knowing why he could not alter destiny as he saw fit. After all, he himself was destiny of a sort. He had made this world… now he would watch it burn.
He liked to call himself Paper, though he’d never really understood why. It was somewhat apt; the blank potential of a sheet of paper was a close parallel to the near limitless creative power he’d been given. And yet, just as a paper is ultimately bounded on all sides, so to were his ab
“God damn it!” He yelled in frustration, slamming his fist down on the table.
Jackson Illerioum IIX ran his hands through his hair, sitting back angrily in the hotel suite’s expensive chair and staring at the ACCESS DENIED message on his laptop’s screen. He didn’t understand – yesterday the traffic cameras had bent to his will at the touch of a button, but now, they were locked as solidly as his own bank account used to be. Jackson fumed silently; he’d almost been caught on video, all because of some stupid fucking security patch that he hadn’t had a chance to crack before it moved into product
In his fever, I thought the fragments and screams were naught to be feared - that even when he cried out in his sleep, his nonsense syllables were little cause for concern.
At one point, though, he wailed something about his phone. Curious, and hoping that obliging him would soothe his delirium, I took the device and held it to my ear.
I heard scratchy, quiet voices rasping those same fragments and screams, synchronized with his own.
And when I put the phone down, I could still hear them.
The last of the decoys fell to the floor; cold, mechanical eyes followed falling meat and bone, bodies long since dead that served no purpose but to lure. Silver and ceramic slid haltingly against one another as the horde of wiry mechanical men cast about in confusion, unsure why their targets did not shriek, did not scream, did not sing and suffer and die.
From behind them, a footstep. They turned, and one yet with life was there.
An ankle-length coat hung across his shoulders, white as snow and trimmed with silver. Ornate and decorated sleeves bent to the wind’s gentle call, while silver hair and brilliant green eyes framed a face o
On massive padded feet they crept. They always hunted in packs of four – great packs of many were often formed and disbanded, wars and feuds might break out between them, but it was always in fours they hunted. It was cold up this high: thousands of feet in the air, atop the largest mountains the world had to offer, there was naught but snow and silence. Foot after foot after foot of snow… and howling wind, too, of course, but the hunters couldn’t hear it. They could see, though – it was far too cold for any creature with normal eyes to survive, since the fluid in them would freeze, but the eyes of the hunters were emb
I touch the soil with my palms and fingertips, roll it between my hands, draw its essence into my nose. Earthen scents of decay and bone whisper promises in a language few understand. The year will be fertile – soil speaks openly to those who stop and listen. I draw its strength into me, the firm foundation upon which I build my house, my farm, my family. This is what I have always done. This is what I will always do.
Fire and shrieks rip through the harvest; I cannot tell the screams of my horses from those of my children. I run desperately, thoughts swirling as I crest the hill. Glass shatters as the screaming stops, and something in