Gods are fickle things. Fickle and numerous and given to flights of fancy. Or, sometimes, fits of jealousy. And then, rarely, a god will take interest in our world long enough to assert his or her or its influence on events. Demons fear when a god looks askance at their doings and humans are frail things in comparison.
Frail and pliable things.
Sandy scanned her computer’s monitor as her onscreen character huffed and chuffed, claws at the ready. Bodies lay strewn around her character’s form and the semi-pixelated werewolf seemed to look for its own prey as Sandy moved it around the computer generated world. …
Set in a near-future science-fiction story, a doctor makes a breakthrough in gene therapy that has world-changing applications. Away from prying eyes, he tests his discovery on an unsuspecting young woman and documents her changes.
May 23rd, 2057 11:24 am PST
Like a spy cloaked against its enemies, three small spiked shapes danced unnoticed by the neighboring cells floating in the culture dish. Dimmed light from the monitor lit Dr. Campbell’s face while he watched the movement of the magnified sample. Computers hummed in the darkened room, providing power to the algorithms that automatically tracked and recorded the specimens.
“I need another blanket,” Susan muttered. “This is ridiculous.” The walls of the young woman’s tent rippled against the light wind and she shivered under her blankets as the cold settled densely around her. The constant light snowfall pelted her tent with muttered pattering sounds. Susan peeked over the edge of her covers to watch her small tent sway. She could feel the cold somehow reaching through the blankets to seep into her and her bones ached from it. She weighed her options. On one hand, she felt like she could survive well enough with her parka, clothes, gloves, hat and four blankets. …