Tag Archives: speculative fiction

One To The Dome

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One hot summer night, after one too many tallboys, and bored out of his skull, Lem Planter fetched his cheaper-than-dirt Colt King Cobra .357 Magnum and unloaded his revolver in the air, trying to put a bullet between the eyes of the man on the moon.

As one would imagine, his aim exceeded his reach, but one of those shells actually managed to find a target as it fell back down to Earth, striking Miss Hattie Clements in the top of the head. When word reached Lem, he confessed immediately and was arrested once forensics matched the bullet to his pistol.

The saving grace to this story was even though the bullet was lodged in an area of Hattie’s brain that was deemed too dangerous to be removed, she not only survived but fully recovered from the incident, and when she was released from the hospital, she refused to press charges and even visited Lem in prison to personally thank him. She felt deep in her heart that it was the best thing that ever happened to her, because from the moment she awoke after the accident, she was able to physically see and have direct conversations with God.

Text and Audio ©2019 & 2021 Rhyan Scorpio-Rhys

As I Push My Whimsy Forward

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I am of two minds. On the one hand, I want to make a good impression, to reveal glimpses of the parts of myself that will make you think favorably of me. On the other hand, I do not wish to mislead you by pretending to be wholly one thing, when I am an amalgamation of paradoxes that should not be able to function in one body, one personality, let alone society, yet somehow does.

Then you offer me a smile that is polite and mild, and my mind is made up, for I do not wish to hide my light beneath a bushel. It is my desire that you see all of me and I see all of you, because in that act there is such a freedom of either acceptance or rejection, that transcends the simple mediocrity of belonging.

So, as I push my whimsy forward, unfolding politeness and decorum to display the complexities that live and thrive at the very core of my being, I offer you the opportunity to follow suit in order to form an unbreakable bond and temper a love forged in the flames of two pure hearts.

Text and Audio ©2021 Rhyan Scorpio-Rhys

 

Dance of the Thaw

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Persephone Phoenix Celinar of the Fourth Olympianic Hutch had been selected to fill the role of Phrenishe Harvestra, Queen of the Thaw, after the passing of the previous monarch. Upon Persephone’s neophyte shoulders fell the responsibility of creating a dance that would bring an end to the long, brutal Winter and usher in a prosperous Spring for her woodland subjects.

Unbeknownst to anyone, the young rabbit’s limbs were as stiff as oak branches. T’was true she lacked the rhythm and coordination to move gracefully, but her mother never raised a quitter in any of her many litters, so Persephone imagined that instead of unyielding branches, her limbs were dangling vines blowing in the wind.

And she danced, like no one was watching, with reckless abandon, ceaselessly tripping the light fantastic, inviting others to join the great dance in order to attract the attention of Mother Nature, asking for the cold and snow to be exiled to the void of seasons past and replaced by Spring, the resuscitator of life.

Text and Audio ©2021 Rhyan Scorpio-Rhys

Her First Time

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The pocket watch was a pendulum of brilliant gold in the candlelit room. The mechanized ticking reminded Vanessa of raindrops striking a car roof, and all at once she was transported back to her rainy eighteenth birthday, in the back of Jimmy Erler’s old, beat up ’67 Chevy Impala, letting him round all the bases because she foolishly believed he was the one who deserved her much coveted v-card.

For some silly reason, she had recreated the memory of her first time into something clumsy and awkward but romantic and committed herself to the lie so hard and for so long that she actually believed it was true. But under Doc Halley’s hypnosis session, the fairytale facade fell away, and her breathing escalated from jittery pants to an almost animalistic sucking in of air as if she was underwater. Her body was becoming thick and heavy and she heard Jimmy’s sweet nothings whispered in her ears turn into screams for help.

It was then that she realized their heavy petting had been abandoned for her pummelling, clawing, kicking, and biting at her nineteen year old date who had balled up in a fetal position trying to protect himself from her brutal assault. Before the date, Jimmy bragged about his prowess and his ability to bloom her flower. The shame of it was that he didn’t live long enough to see just how right he was.

Text and Audio ©2021 Rhyan Scorpio-Rhys

Final Embrace

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I never meant to end up being what I was. I would wake up each morning with the best of intentions, recite positive affirmations, and set off in the world determined to leave society better than I found it. But somewhere along the way, something or someone always fell onto my path and upset the apple cart.

My life became an obstacle course of misfortune, a series of choosing the lesser of two evils as I made split second pivots which strayed me farther and farther off track, until I could no longer see the way back to road of righteousness. Eventually, the accounts for all those lesser evils came due and I paid with the only currency I owned.

And as I lay in the gutter with my life slowly ebbing, I saw the beautiful face of a woman who could only be described as my one true love. It was little more than a flash of pale skin and raven hair that appeared in front of my dying eyes before vanishing, and I knew it was a brainsick reverie disguising Death, but I longed to allow myself to fall into her loving final embrace.

Text and Audio ©2019 & 2021 Rhyan Scorpio-Rhys

Emotional Matches

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When people spoke of our marriage, they often used terms like kismet, destiny, serendipity, and soulmates, and there has yet to be an occasion when someone hadn’t asked the question that my husband and I dreaded the most:

“What is the secret to your relationship?”

As if we could bestow upon them some magical bit of information that could save their failing partnerships. The answer that no one wanted to hear, our truth, was that neither of us was particularly smart or possessed some life-altering dream within our hearts, we were simply two ignorant people playing with emotional matches which wasn’t a real problem because we loved the way each other burned.

We also pledged our immortal souls to the demon god of love, Jespurait, but surely that played no part in our enduring affection for one another.

It was a mere coincidence.

Text and Audio ©2019 & 2021 Rhyan Scorpio-Rhys

Second Time’s The Charm

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Yes, she could have died, given up her ghost, her human soul, to the universe, because death was easy. Life itself, the act of living, was the tricky bit, the thing that was always practiced but never mastered.

But there, balanced on the fulcrum of existence, Bernice was in the rare position of having an option, and as she had never been a quitter, she chose to take one last roll of the dice. She opted to live simply, love generously and speak truthfully yet not insensitively.

Fingers crossed that on this occasion, the second time’s the charm.

Text and Audio ©2021 Rhyan Scorpio-Rhys

First Knight’s Quest

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On the twenty-first year of his birth, after proving his bravery and skill at battle, Eldred the squire was called to the dubbing ceremony, where he knelt before the King, who tapped the squire on the shoulder with a ceremonial sword, making Eldred a knight.

Once his oath was taken to honor and protect his king and the church, he was presented with a pair of riding spurs and his very own sword, and given a quest.

The new knight traveled the desolate road through the forbidden forest for three moons, until he crossed paths with a maiden fair. Eldred’s eyes feasted upon her–the aureate waterfall of her hair, the glimmering emerald of her eyes, flawless diaphanous skin, elegant, and her fawn-like neck.

It wasn’t until he laid his sword down that he discovered that she was the dragon he had been hired to slay.

Text and Audio ©2021 Rhyan Scorpio-Rhys

Circumstantial Evidence

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“Megan’s a what, now?”

“She’s a straight up, dyed in the wool, city witch.”

“Oh, come on. You’re kidding me, right?”

“Nope.”

“Okay, then how do you reckon she’s a witch?”

“Are you blind? She routinely walks a mutated hellhound after midnight, Ubers dragons to get her witchy ass around town, that penthouse suite of hers is made entirely of gingerbread, and all the children in her apartment complex have mysteriously gone missing since she moved in.”

“Sounds more like wild speculation and coincidence than actual proof. You wouldn’t happen to be jealous, would you?”

“Jealous of what? Her unhealthy appetite for our future generation?”

“That perhaps people find her a little more interesting than you?”

“Just because she bathes in the blood of innocents and bakes her bread with human bones, does not make her more interesting than me! Wait, please tell me you’re not thinking about hooking up with her.”

“Would it really be all that bad?”

“Um, did you miss the bit about the missing kids?”

“Well, were they good kids, or, you know…like…the other kind?”

“That shouldn’t matter! Children are sacrosanct!”

“More like sacrificed, if your suspicions are correct.”

“I give up. Do what you want. On your head be it.”

“Only if I’m lucky.”

“You are so incredibly disgusting.”

Text and Audio ©2021 Rhyan Scorpio-Rhys

The Timeless Rail

Posted by Madd_Fictional on

It had been a long and uneventful life, and when the daily drudgery of existence reached a level that threatened to drown her, Amber spent all the bitcoin she had amassed to book a ticket well in advance in order to give her family, friends, and employer ample notice of her departure.

Impatiently, she waited at a forest rail station, which was hidden from all transit maps and only locatable via the dark web, for the train that traveled the timeless roads from the birth of imagination to the apex of dreams.

She knew in her heart of hearts that she would not ever return to this reality in her lifetime.

Text and Audio ©2017 & 2021 Rhyan Scorpio-Rhys