Short Story 36

Jemima and The Broken Ones

They used to call us The Broken Ones. In the fallout of the revolution, the world ushered in a new way of life. For the first time in our history, Earth fell into a state of equality…but only through the introduction of the hive reaping. Once every six months The Cleanse would sacrifice a few for the greater good of the many. We didn’t fit in, and that didn’t sit well with The Collective. What did they really expect? In the process of trying to overthrow the powers that be, they adapted and took humanity to a depressingly new low.

Our differences were removed, and the new norm restricted what people could feel, what they could do. People feared becoming victims of The Vortex, but the worst part was that nothing had actually changed. An illusion that would make great magicians bow down in disbelief: the powerful just found new ways to hold onto their thrones and manipulate people.

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Short Story 35

Lily and the Hidden Society

I need to tell you a secret, but you have to promise not tell another living soul. I’m serious! This isn’t a game or a cool story some stranger at a bar is telling you on his sixth pint. This is life and death, the great abyss, the four-horseman type shit…at least it is for me. Trust me, I’m not here to say that I was randomly thrust into a world far greater than the one I was used to. Quite the opposite. Everything was designed to play out a certain way, just not by my hand.

Three weeks ago, I was tied and restrained on a chair in my living room. I remember thinking that I wish I hadn’t gone for the hand-crafted solid wood dining setting. That’s because somewhere between the torture and the punches a flimsier furniture choice may have helped me escape. I know, I know. I really should’ve been concerned with the fact that my best friend was the one doing the tormenting. Hear me out though; my choices, as far as I could tell, had no determining influence on Mike’s actions. My home décor on the other hand fell entirely under the responsibility of my currently questionable decision-making skills.

Looking back, I maybe should’ve been more freaked out. I was scared, don’t get me wrong, but I feel like movies, books, shows and the news somehow dulled my shock to the events taking place. The situation was out of my control, so why should I worry and give him the satisfaction of instilling fear in me? Instead the sassy and sarcastic side came out to play. Every question he asked I laughed off or replied with a line from a song. When he got frustrated to the point of being completely calm, Mike whispered in my ear, “Valkyrie will not be happy. Your fate is written. Valkyrie is coming for you.”

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Short Story 34

Lonni and the Prophecies

Somewhere between an ordinary chance meeting and becoming best friends with someone, he lied to me. Thinking about it now, it was all a lie. I know he loves me, that’s real…but it was all under false pretences. When I was eighteen, I moved to the city. I was from a small country town where I lived with my father, a hard but kind man who definitely didn’t want me to leave.

To be honest, I didn’t want to leave either…but you have to do what’s expected when the Diamond Legion summons you. I always knew that day would come. I had trained from a young age, always knowing that my life was owed to a cause claiming to be fighting for the greater good. I grew up hearing stories of how my father had a debt that was to be paid the day his daughter came of age.

I know what you’re thinking, that this is a creepy cult situation? The thing is, that’s not far off the mark. I used to have dreams of aliens abducting me. That in the night, creatures would come into my room, do tests on my blood. Turns out those weren’t dreams, and there were very non-alien people from the Diamond Legion coming into my house and checking my body for the prime condition for ‘harvesting’ as they like to call it; it’s just plain old human sacrifice.

To be honest, all I know is that at some point in time I’ll die and that there was no way out of it.

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Short Story 33

Olive and Lachlan

Olive’s grandmother used to tell her the story of how her grandparents met. They were in a crowded room. He was in a band and she was dancing to one of their songs. They locked eyes and the rest was history. But, Olive never really believed her; It was a fairy tale, a story to entertain bored children. For some reason, the elders liked to create magic in a time when everything was based on algorithms and duty. Love wasn’t real, and the world relied on everyone playing their part in the society they were privileged to live in. Without the socially constructed systems in place, violence would become the standard again, and humanity would cease to exist. Olive and everyone else were lucky to be alive, and lucky live in a utopia.

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Short Story 28

Willow

In almost every respect, Willow was the human personification of a pixie. She had almost white shoulder-length wispy blonde hair and a set of ice blue eyes that could pierce your soul. Her petite build was complimented by the crocheted midriff tops and ripped denim short-shorts she always sported but none of these things were as enchanting as her presence in a room. There was always something truly magical about how she held herself and how infectious her laugh was.

But this pixie was being kept in a cage…a very lavishly decorated cage, but a cage nonetheless. Continue reading “Short Story 28”

Short Story 23

Ryan

No one knew him by any name other than Ryan. Then again, not many knew he existed in the first place. His entire life was a series of decisions made on his behalf by people who never really claimed to have his best interest at heart, but instead, to his face, told him they owned him.

He was their property, but Ryan never really found the need to question orders or to break away from the Alliance. He was content with the structure of his life and every day he had a regiment that was only altered on the days he was sent into the outside world. Continue reading “Short Story 23”

Short Story 20

Hope

Hope was the kind of girl that you unexpectedly found yourself gravitating towards without explanation. The type of girl that without ever knowing the effect she had on people, pulled everyone towards her.

I mean sure, at just twenty-one, Hope’s beauty captured the attention of most, but that’s not the reason people stuck around. She had blue eyes that reflected neon from the sun each day as she took her surf board out against the waves, while her blonde hair darkened as the salt water cleansed her body. Continue reading “Short Story 20”

Short Story 15

The Clock

It has been two hours, thirty-two minutes, and eight seconds since I woke up handcuffed to a metal bed in the middle of an empty room. I know exactly how long it has been, because there is an enormous digital clock that has been annoyingly counting since my eyes opened.

If you had come up to me yesterday, or at least, I think it was yesterday, and asked, “If you woke up in a strange place, handcuffed, and in different clothes than what you left the house in, how would you feel?” I would have said something about freaking out at the mere notion of such an abnormality. Continue reading “Short Story 15”

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