fantasy
Celebrating the fantastical. Let your imagination run wild.
The First Fox
Fear: Irish for “man”Etymology is important in the story of the fox. They meet, as beings most often do, at the beginning. They open their eyes and see before them rolling green hills and tall, proud forests, quiet and serene, untouched save for a gentle breeze. Their eyes adjust to the light and take in every inch of sky, grass, earth, and water. His eyes pass over the horizon and drink in the sky and all that could lie beyond; hers settle on the earth, cutting deep into the forest and relishing the details in every blade of grass, every wrinkly cut in the bark of each tree. After a time, their eyes settle on one another—his, blue and vast, a reflection of that which he desired. Hers, an amber, deep and multifaceted, rooted to that which she held dear.
By Samantha Stone8 years ago in Futurism
Shed
The machines do their thing and I mine. As best I can. They beep and I wheeze with old lungs not ready to peter out. Sunlight comes through the only window as I lay still, watching it change the tone of colors onto the generic wallpaper that threatens a headache when gazed upon. I lay here and think. Guess that is all you can do at the end of your life. People leave and leave you to your thoughts. As the song goes… Regrets, I got a few. The biggest is one I have had to live with for sixty years.
By Ernie Howard8 years ago in Futurism
William Schomp
Prologue He was just another a guest speaker. I hadn’t even planned to go to the lecture hall that day. I certainly didn’t care to listen to another grumpy old man. Who was just going to tell us how important it was for us to learn what we were being taught and help fight the Nazis and Japs. They had already paraded out three others that month, blathering on about the greatness of serving our country, how we were the future. One or two I wouldn’t have minded, but the last one didn’t even seem to believe the line he was paid to feed us. Any student who had bought into their spiel had already enlisted or were leaving at the end of the semester. Four in one month was beginning to border on cruel and unusual punishment. This newest one didn’t even sound like a war veteran, William Hartung Schomp, a Private Detective, art recovery expert, and a local paranormal big wig. Anyone who had lived in the city for more than a year or two had heard of him. To most of us, it just seemed as if they had run out of real veterans or local heroes from “the Great War” and were hauling in local celebrities to talk to us.
By Jeremy Sheppard8 years ago in Futurism
The Absurdly Curious Story of Michael Staats Chapter Three
“I demand that you tell me what you know at once!” shouted Michael for what Conrad felt was about the thirtieth time. “As I have said before,” Conrad replied pleasantly, refusing to allow Michael to provoke a rise in anger out of him, “If you don’t already realize it, then you will eventually figure it out. If you do realize what’s going on, then you are deeply in denial, which is to be expected considering you lived your entire life in denial.”
By Joe Schuler8 years ago in Futurism
Heaven's Entryway (Part 1)
They say that when you die, usually your life flashes before your eyes. Would I fast forward through all my memories or feel an overwhelming sense of love? Could all we imagine death to be just a lie? Perhaps it's more like the lights going out and boom—instant blackness. Is death just absolutely nothing?
By Cassandra Freitas8 years ago in Futurism
A Tale of Two Hoods
He had grown used to the howling. Adrian pulled the green hood over his blond hair as the wolf howls reached a crescendo. The chorus of shrill voices could be heard every night, even inside the city walls. As a child, he could remember sneaking into his mother’s room, afraid that the wolf pack was just outside the bedroom window. Adrian could hardly remember his mother’s face, but her words from those nights still reverberated in his ears.
By Wilbert Turner III8 years ago in Futurism
A Glimpse of Heaven
I woke to the sound of birds singing, butterflies dancing around my face, and a blade of grass tickling my nose. This did not feel like the same place I had fallen asleep only a few hours ago, my stomach in a knot from worrying about financial difficulties. Was I dead? Maybe, but I didn't feel dead.
By Denise Willis8 years ago in Futurism
When Time Stopped
So there I am, walking down the street, minding my own business, earbuds in boppin' to some T Swizzle (Taylor Swift to the layman) and just as I began walking across the road "Schtublam!" A car smacked me right in the kneecap. I thought, 'Fuck this is it, I always thought I would take an edible and get into a fight with that one yoked homeless guy; but no, it’s this old fuck who looks like he’s going to croak tomorrow anyways. He had to take me down with him. Curse you, fate!' Only, I wasn’t dead. In fact, it was like some superhero shit just happened because the car stopped in place. Like seriously, it stopped right at the moment of impact. Maybe Stan Lee over here is just Neo with the breaks, so I kindly flip him off, tell him to go stick a cork in his ass and go about my day. I still need eggs after all. Gotta get a healthy amount of protein to round out my macros, that sorta thing. But, as I come to Cahuenga Blvd., all of the cars were stopped. Not like regular LA traffic stopped with all the yelling and frustration included, but truly stopped, frozen in time. So now I’m starting to think that I did eat an edible and am just losing my mind right now, weed always makes time go by at a snail's pace. But I kid you not, all of the cars, and all of the people inside of the cars were just perfectly still. So I walk up to the edge of the street, still making sure to look both ways mind you, I am a safe citizen, I also looked around for any cop cars. Maybe this is just an elaborate way to catch me with a jaywalking ticket, you never know.
By Archie Archuleta8 years ago in Futurism
'Soulcalibur'
Prologue. 1564 Lightning flashes. Pale blue streaks jump across the dark grey sky as the thunder booms. The tense ocean mist swallowing everything. Harsh rain pours over the seas, descending from the billowing clouds. The waves grow rapidly inch by inch. Tides rise and fall back again, crashing onto The Adrian, a strong vessel sailing in its waters. Raging currents hit against the large ship, as its watery edges fizz over the wooden barrier and whisks through the air.
By Alexandra Roybal8 years ago in Futurism
Dirty Little Secret
It was hilarious in a pathetic sort of way how utterly unaware humans were. How they could sit within arm's reach of a predator, of a monster, and be none the wiser to the danger that sat sizing them up for whether they'd make a tasty meal or not. And it was even more pathetic when the humans that were the predators of their fellows were unaware of the apex predator that stared them down.
By Rhys B. Crabtree8 years ago in Futurism
