Science Fiction
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 Patton4 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 Patton4 months ago in Chapters
The Sparta Chronicles. AI-Generated.
The raw, unforgiving wind of the Andes clawed at Sparta and Jackson, two souls irrevocably bound to the currents of time, teetering on the brink of oblivion. Before them yawned an Incan scar upon the earth, a skeletal remains of a civilization clawed from the mountain's granite heart. Crumbling stone, slick with the mountain's ancient tears, whispered a thousand forgotten sagas into the howling wind. Pandora, their brilliant, often distant anchor, was elsewhere, lost in her own labyrinth of chronal equations. But her fierce, loyal shadows, her canine bulwarks, were here, their primal instincts thrumming with anticipation.
By Carolyn Patton4 months ago in Chapters
The Sparta Chronicles. AI-Generated.
The crimson dust of Mars clawed at the edges of Sparta and Jackson's vision, a stark testament to their maiden plunge into the unknown. The colony, a defiant scar upon the desolate expanse, throbbed with a frantic energy. Gleaming chrome domes, impossibly fragile against the alien sky, shimmered under the razor-thin atmosphere, a siren song of progress masking a chilling undercurrent of fear. It was a palpable dread, thick as the metallic tang of recycled air, clinging to the very marrow of the place.
By Carolyn Patton4 months ago in Chapters
The Sparta Chronicles. AI-Generated.
In a vortex of raw, unyielding magic, Sparta was ripped from reality, hurtling into a temporal anomaly that violently reshaped the future into a grotesque echo of a forgotten past. Cobblestone, slick with an unknown dampness, clawed at his paws as gaslight, sickly and flickering, cast long, skeletal shadows. The air hung thick with a suffocating blend of nostalgia and an unsettling, palpable dread, each scent a memory and a phantom limb.
By Carolyn Patton4 months ago in Chapters
The Sparta Chronicles. AI-Generated.
In the abyss of a future so fractured it defied comprehension, Sparta, the temporal anomaly disguised as a corgi, materialised into a reality that clawed at his very essence. He’d braced himself for the sterile gleam of chrome citadels and the thrum of anti-gravity vessels. Instead, his paws, accustomed to temporal displacement rather than solid ground, found purchase on the rough, worn cobblestones of a forgotten age. Gaslight, a flickering mockery of true illumination, bled amber hues onto the street, painting shadows that writhed like captured spirits. The air, thick and cloying, bore the pungent aroma of horse dung and the sickly sweet perfume of baking bread, a deceptive normalcy that masked a deeper dissonance. Yet, amidst this anachronistic tableau, the ghosts of what-was-to-be whispered their secrets – a gas lamp, its flame a steady, unnatural pulse, hummed with an unseen power, a silent testament to a technology woven into the very fabric of this bewildering era.
By Carolyn Patton4 months ago in Chapters
Brass Ring Chapter 2: When A Good Man Meets His Destiny
[Link to Chapter One] In the present, with ten minutes to go…. The old man went around the office making sure that things were in order. He was expecting company, the last guest he would ever have. he wanted things to be ready for when his relatives descended upon his house like vultures.
By Jamais Jochim4 months ago in Chapters
Inversion - 11. AI-Generated.
Forty-nine days. Asher counted them later, marking each sunrise and sunset like a rosary of bewilderment. Forty-nine days during which his cousin sat motionless against the boulder, eyes closed, his breathing so subtle that it barely disturbed the air around him. No food, no water, no movement beyond the barely perceptible movement of his chest. Laurel should have been dead within a week.
By The Myth of Sysiphus4 months ago in Chapters
Parallax 1. Content Warning.
He had been forced to face away from the light. He winced as he strained his neck to glance through the bars and frosted glass of the window slit. He slumped in his chair; he gazed toward the wall. He was silent, but every cell in his body was loud... a deathly loud... like a ghost trapped in a fracturing glass bottle.
By Chris Isadorian4 months ago in Chapters
The Vessel - A Halloween Flash Fiction
The Vessel © Sai Marie Johnson A story often begins out of nowhere – a walk into a hike, a day into night. And for Elias Royal, it was a bit of a lifetime spent building his world out of concrete and equations, and he liked to think that’s all it was ever going to be. He wasn’t the sort of man who was looking for eventful, but he did want to leave some sort of honest work legacy in his life – and that led him to becoming a genetic engineer. He was a man who believed in the structural integrity of science and the irrefutable logic of mathematics, and there had never been any real room for faith or spirituality in his life. He viewed it as a crutch – something people needed to get through the harsh realities of life. But, as life would happen to throw some harsh realities at Elias, it hit him like an anvil in a cartoon when his seven-year-old son, Leo – ended up being the one whose body was failing the quiet, devastating fight against juvenile cancer, and it was efficiently unspooling his boy’s thread right before his eyes.
By Sai Marie Johnson4 months ago in Chapters
