?? 7 Tiny Sci-fi Stories For Thought-Provoking Reading

Go ahead. Use these for your own beautiful worlds

The factory churned out another one. Pumped in the blood.

Square nose like mine, green eyes like my sister’s. The factory missed one part: the skin.

Blood glided down muscle, landed into vents below. A soft sucking noise and the floor was clean.

No mess. No evidence. No liability.

One of the bright, golden triangles floating around went into the chest. Lit the bones and muscles up. Light poured out of the mouth, nostrils, ears, and other openings.

What was a human without a soul?

Nothing.

The body opened its eyes, so like my sister’s, and mouth like my father’s.

Tears streamed down its face as it said, “I’m scared.”

My hand hovered over the discard button. The body whispered,

“Can you love me? Am I good enough to be your brother?”

I pressed the button. The soul was taken from him, but he didn’t go back to sleep. He wailed as he went to the disassembly station.

What was a human without a soul?

Nothing.

The clock was ticking.

Each second, more of the feeling in my hands disappeared.

Why did my name have to be so long? I added a curl to the second “a.”

The paper shook under the pen, my hand trembling under the strain.

Tick, tick, tick.

Feeling disappeared in my knuckles. Above them, my skin was gone.

Ten more letters and I could stop this.

I focused on my remaining skin, kept writing.

Two letters left.

“Time’s up.”

“No, no! I still have — ”

My hands were glass now. My freedom contract unsigned.

I belonged to her forever.

“Eighteen’s the hardest year, but you must face it.”

All my elders told me that. Had been telling me my whole life, but none could tell me why. Dared to tell me. It was against our sacred laws.

Each passing year, I dreaded my eighteenth birthday, and when the clock struck midnight, I found out why.

Grrr.

A deep growl. Nowhere. Everywhere. Inside my head.

Grr.

The sound rumbled through my mind, imprisoning me in sleep. Dread, despair, doubt. Everything I’d pushed away hit me with each rumble.

A werewolf sprinted toward me. Three times bigger than me. Six-inch fangs. I couldn’t move even though my heartbeat had never run so fast.

But I faced the werewolf. I will not back down.

It jumped inside me. Agony screamed through my body, and I woke up. Deep claw marks burned into my chest and thighs.

A whisper, “I am your demons; I will return.”

“Don’t be upset. I’m only making you what you’ve always been. What we all are.”

The scientist smiled kindly as he pulled the needle out of my arm.

“And what’s that?”

“You’ll see, Matthew.”

There was no pain as Ryan and I held hands. Lied in matching cots with millions of teens around us who’d done the challenge.

“Wh-what do you think we’ll become?” He looked over at me.

“Don’t know.”

Not until white wool and two more legs started growing.

He liked black-tipped pipes. Had smoked from them for the last fifteen years.

What would life be like without the smooth black lacquer of his favorite pipe? He sighed. Leaned back in the chair.

“The hell are ye doin’?”

A man he’d never met yanked the pipe from his lips and threw it into the thick, thorny bushes outside.

The world narrowed, his rage gobbling it. “How dare ye, peasant?”

Deep, raspy voice.

The man jumped back. “But, what, ye are six years old.”

He blew white smoke at the man, then looked down.

His thighs, so small now. Legs so short. His jumps had been chaotic since his last genocide failed. He must do better.

“Where is my son?” The man stared at him.

He shrugged. “Where is my pipe?”

“How long have we been waiting for this day again?”

My mother paused her muttering. “Well before my time. During my great-grandmother’s time.”

We stood outside, faces wet with the cold rain. Staring at the sky.

Me, my mother, our whole village.

The sun rose, but that was not what we were waiting for. Praying for.

“What if — ”

Mother cut me off with a raised hand. “Only belief.”

I nodded.

Midday, it came — the Divine Sun. Purplish-orange. Glowing.

The two suns touched lightly, crawling across the sky. We prayed harder.

Hours passed, and then the Divine Sun consumed the first one. Glowed brighter.

Agreeing to give us a few more centuries of sunlight.

Bark. Bark! BARK!

The dog sat silently in the reclining chair, eating a steaming, well-done steak, somewhat annoyed.

Bark.

The humans, eyes wide and glossy like their babies, whined, looking up at her. She sprinkled cheap brown balls of food below her.

The humans were missing patches of skin, eyes, and chunks of flesh. They were covered in ringworms, scabs, and oozing gashes. Shivering from the cold.

They fought for the tiny amount of food she’d given them from the massive reservoir.

“Oh, give them more. There are so many in there. Why must you be so stingy?” Her help-mate wagged a paw at her. He was much too lenient with them, and that is why she loved him.

She bit into her juicy steak — herbs and Worcestershire sauce exploded in her mouth. Chewed the piece slowly.

The humans growled at each other. Clawed at each other. Bit each other.

Dots of blood and plugs of hair fell on the cage’s floor.

She swallowed, dipped a larger cup in the bag, and poured more in.

They did not deserve it, but she was nothing if not merciful.

Feel free to use these microstories to create longer works, variations, etc. Credit is nice but optional. In education, use them with attribution.

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