Havok Publishing

Tag - dystopian

Echoes of Freedom

June 7. The day I get my third memory.
I can’t keep a skip out of my step as I hurry down the forest path, humming.
An oddly cold breeze whips around me, blowing my dark curls into my face.
I sigh and roll my eyes at the sky. Though mostly obscured by branches, I can tell it’s gloomy and full of clouds.

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Secrets in the Shadows

You might be wondering why I’m in an alleyway holding a blowtorch, about to cut into this steel door. Perhaps I should take you back to the days spent amidst flickering fluorescent bulbs, drab gray uniforms, and one-room holding cells. And no, I’m not talking about my old high school.
The Overseers call it…

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Against the Impossible

I could feel the kitten’s heartbeat.
That shouldn’t have been possible.
Opening his mouth, the kitten let out a tiny meow, showing off his small pink tongue. I hugged him to my chest and glanced around the alley. We were still alone, unnoticed.
I’d stepped into the alley to adjust my glitching earpiece.

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Preserving Peace

Adam observed the flock of pigeons. The whole time he’d been sitting on the rusted park bench, seeds disappeared around only one. The real pigeon ate the seeds he threw at it; the drones just pecked at the ground.
A few drone birds took flight. Adam glanced at his watch. Right on schedule.

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It’s A Girl

It’s a girl.”
The phrase buzzes into my ears like a swarm of mosquitoes. Unwelcome. Unbearable.
A paper towel appears in the doctor’s hand and rubs at the clear gel slabbed over my stretched skin. Indifferently, though; a cold glob remains in my belly button.
A girl.
“Any questions?” the doctor recites.

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Ocean Sky

The pull made Noyer strain against her ankle cuff. The purple bruising beneath it twinged comfortingly.
She was safe. The ocean couldn’t drown her yet, so she listened to its thrum through the story of an old stormer.
“It was a glorious city, and they broke it,” he was saying.

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Ring, Ring

Theresa plopped into a chair and plugged her ears; she couldn’t help herself. But it made no difference. The sound came from within.
A hand squeezed her shoulder. Her husband, Malcolm, studied her, his forehead wrinkled with concern. “The ringing’s back?”
“You could go see another doctor—”

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Tears For Sale

The tears arrive in a vial of see-through metal foam: 100 ml, 800 Alu-dollars, and very hard to come by. Unless you know Miso. Miso knows the black market like no other.
“Whatta ya want ‘em for, anyway?” he says, scratching his artificial eyelid.
“Brecca. I miss him.”
What I keep to myself is that,

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The Shanty Man

There’s always my reflection in the red puddle.
But tonight, there’s more. Tonight, there’s a man standing over my best friend’s dead body, and the barrel of his gun swallows me up.
He pulls the trigger, and I scream.
My eyes fly open, and the first thing I register is the rain plopping softly into the pot by my bed.

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S2 Techno Tuesday featured image (season 2)


My cubicle door opens.
I hope it’s Nira, my favorite Facilitator. Instead two authorities burst in.
White suits. Masks. Blue gloves.
“What’s happening?” I ask.
“You’re being removed,” the authority on my left growls. They grab my arms, squeezing
until it hurts, and haul me out.
“What? No!” I scream. “Nira!”
It’s Nira.

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Daddy closed me in, just as he had my sister last year. She hadn’t returned.
He wiped his tear away. “I’m praying I see you again.”
I tried to hold the door open. “Don’t make me go!”
He half held my shoulder, half pushed me forward. “You know our way, Brianna.

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The crisp slip of paper scratches my palm, leaving a stinging cut. These words say I’ve won. That I’m almost guaranteed a shot at being Immortalized.
My mother has been smiling at me so long it’s almost become a grimace.
“You… You entered me in the lottery?”

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