Sci Fi

The Lantern in the Fog
The fog settled over the village like a blanket soaked in silence. At first it was gentle, wrapping the streets in a quiet hush. But as night deepened, it thickened into something heavier, almost alive, crawling along the cobblestones and slipping into the cracks of every home. It was not the kind of fog that simply blurred the edges of things. This fog carried a chill that touched the marrow, a weight that pressed on the heart, and whispered doubts in voices that sounded eerily familiar.
By Sound and Spiritabout a month ago in Fiction
The Knight Who Knew My Name
That night began like most others. Rain tapped steadily against the window with a flash of lightning and the sound of thunder filling the silence of the city. A small silhouette moved toward my door. I reached for my revolver out of habit and took a drag from my cigarette, not knowing if it would be my last. A soft knock came; a figure in a soaked trench coat stepped into my office. Water dripped onto the floor, already forming a puddle.
By Emma Markabout a month ago in Fiction
Dragon's Breath
Zorb checked the calculations on the dash as his ship zoomed through space. His controls went crazy as he entered the meteor field. Lightning appeared out of nowhere, striking the fragile ship. As the crew hit the ground, the instruments flickered as they dove into an odd planet. Its fields were green and lacked any bases. The strange planet seemed simple, and yet Zorb still kept his guard. The land was empty until a small creature, ridden by a new species, appeared. Zorb walked out of the opening wearing his galactic translator.
By Sarah Danaherabout a month ago in Fiction
Blonde Curls And A Purple Jacket
Trevor's left eye scanned the detective's inquisitive face. While he couldn't tell if Inspector Greenland was lying, he could sense something was wrong. He just didn't know what exactly.
By Moon Desertabout a month ago in Fiction
The Gods Shall Provide
Trielsa scraped carefully at the heavy white clunch, freeing the delicate vevola plant with as little root loss as possible. In the cratered landscape of clay and dust left behind by the miners, the vevola was a precious symbol of vitality and endurance. She would plant it outside the Hall of the Ancestors, where its purple blossoms and sweet scent would help dispel the sorrow around the place.
By Angel Whelanabout a month ago in Fiction
Salvage, Crime, and a Smile to Die For. Honorable Mention in Mismatch Challenge.
Working salvage is the worst job for meeting people. We don full body environsuits, usually the clunkiest, oldest ones that could make a bodybuilder look like a sack of potatoes. What it does to ordinarily built people like myself is even worse.
By Leigh Victoria Phan, MS, MFAabout a month ago in Fiction
Off the Book. Top Story - January 2026.
It ended like every other stupid idea. Badly, and alone. I’m researching digital confession ethics, he said. A tech ethicist. He gestured at floating data I couldn’t see then pulled out a physical notebook. Actual paper, fountain pen. He held it up like he was showing me scripture.
By Nicky Franklyabout a month ago in Fiction
ONLY VANS
Wall plaque: "We won't leave you hanging. We'll make sure you get there." "Only Vans—the only thing longer than our track record of success is—no."
By Kristen Keenon Fisherabout a month ago in Fiction
The Alien and The Mermaid
The Spaceship safely landed near a body of water, that seemed to stretch as far as they eyes could see. I carefully found my footing on the sand below me. I wondered who I was meeting here, as I watched a figure come up out of the ocean water. She shook her long beautiful hair that covered her completely naked body. I was frightened for a moment, and then pleasantly reassured, when she started smiling at me.
By Gregory Paytonabout a month ago in Fiction
The Sleeping Beauties
The halls were nearly silent as Rafael walked them; nearly, because it was almost impossible to not hear a quiet whir or hum anymore from the nearly invisible machines as they did their duties. The guards glanced over at him from their posts, not daring to move any further in their acknowledgement. Rafael smiled and nodded to them as he passed their post.
By Dionearia Redabout a month ago in Fiction
A Nameless Person in an Empty Place
She felt nameless. It was an easy enough situation to slip into, watching the city slip by during her morning commute. She was as faceless, nameless, and insignificant as every other person on the hover bus. She was just another person dressed up in professional clothes, getting ready to step into her quiet, albeit stressful job, where she sat at a computer for most of the day.
By Leigh Victoria Phan, MS, MFAabout a month ago in Fiction
Compound Growth
The first thing Marcus noticed was Derek's skin. It wasn't dramatic—not at first. Just a certain smoothness to his colleague's face during the Monday morning standup, a tightness around the jaw that hadn't been there Friday. Derek had always been soft, doughy in that way of men who'd stopped caring somewhere around their second divorce. But now his cheeks held a new geometry. His neck no longer folded into his collar.
By Destiny S. Harrisabout a month ago in Fiction