Science Fiction
Inversion - 14. AI-Generated.
Chapter 14 By autumn, there were twenty-three. Laurel couldn’t pinpoint exactly when it happened. The original five had been joined by others in ones and twos – a dropout from seminary school in Oregon, a retired librarian from Phoenix, a pair of grad students who’d abandoned their dissertations to follow rumors of a man who had transcended death. Word spread through networks he didn’t understand: online forums, intentional communities, the loose confederation of seekers who moved between ashrams and retreat centers like migrant workers heading to wherever seasonal crops of enlightenment could be ready to be harvested.
By The Myth of Sysiphus3 months ago in Chapters
Who's the real Monsters?
Eric's POV The day started off normal, had breakfast and kept it down, then listened in on Ed and Shelly. Would've listened in on both of them a bit more if a sudden feeling of dread didn't seep into my bones. It was the same feeling I had when Z was taken to Nurse Ratchet. That Thing is flexing it's power.
By Lucy Torralba3 months ago in Chapters
Inversion - 13. AI-Generated.
Chapter 13 Laurel left at dawn, or tried to. He made it perhaps two hundred yards down the mountain path before his legs gave out, depositing him unceremoniously on a fallen log beside the trail. His body, stripped to its essentials during the long sitting, had forgotten how to coordinate the complex business of walking on rough terrain.
By The Myth of Sysiphus3 months ago in Chapters
Inversion - 12. AI-Generated.
Book IV: Shape from the Void Chapter 12 Laurel awoke to the sound of voices, which was wrong on several levels. First, because he had been certain that he was dead – not metaphorically dead, but genuinely, biologically dead, his consciousness dissolved into whatever quantum foam may underly awareness. Second, because voices implied other people, and other people were the last thing he wanted to encounter in whatever state he now found himself in.
By The Myth of Sysiphus3 months ago in Chapters
Brass Ring: When They Were Children
Fifteen years ago… The mobile carnival smelled of rust and oil. The smell of popcorn and hot dogs barely covered the smell. The lines to the rides were long, but the couples didn’t mind. Men trying to prove things to either their buddies or their dates surrounded the gaming booths as the promise of stuffed animals overrode the knowledge that the games were rigged against them. Kids swarmed the tents, looking for the next great attraction.
By Jamais Jochim3 months ago in Chapters
Who's the real Monsters?
Feeling myself being pulled out of my body I was brought back into that dark foggy place again. Carefully listening I stayed quiet while the feeling of being watched like a bug under a telescope filled me with anxiety. Steadying my voice I said with my chest, "Show yourself." Red eyes looked down on me in a the span of a millisecond. It's body appeared to be made entirely of shadows and darkness. My heart hammered against my ribs as I froze under It's gaze.
By Lucy Torralba3 months ago in Chapters
The Sparta Chronicles. AI-Generated.
Within the suffocating embrace of the mist-choked Carpathians, shadows bled across the brutalized earth, each elongated stripe a phantom limb of forgotten ages, their whispers a litany of the lost. Sparta, Jackson, and Pandora stood before a monolithic beast of a castle. Its obsidian spires, like sharpened bone, ripped into the bruised and unforgiving sky, the very wind a dirge, a mournful keening for tales that had withered into dust. Pandora, a soul adrift on the storm of her grief for Perseus, felt an unholy magnetism pulling her, a siren's call from this accursed edifice.
By Carolyn Patton3 months ago in Chapters
The Sparta Chronicles. AI-Generated.
Sparta, Jackson, and Pandora stood on the precipice of a forgotten wound, the skeletal remains of the Roanoke colony gnawing at the silence beneath a spectral moon. Pandora clutched a brittle journal, its pages whispering secrets that tore at her voice, a tempest of raw discovery and primal dread churning within her.
By Carolyn Patton3 months ago in Chapters
The Sparta Chronicles. AI-Generated.
The 1940s, a gilded cage of Hollywood where dreams clawed their way into the blinding spotlight, but beneath the veneer, rot festered. Here, amidst the intoxicating perfume of jasmine and the acrid tang of desperation, Sparta and Jackson found themselves ensnared in a knot of intrigue, tighter and more venomous than any screen siren’s poisoned kiss. The city pulsed with the roar of engines and the sibilant hiss of secrets, its opulent avenues a siren song luring the unwary into the encroaching, suffocating shadows where truth was a ghost no one dared to face.
By Carolyn Patton3 months ago in Chapters
