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CONTEST ENDED – Thank you for submitting your stories!

Write a science fiction story where all human behavior can be predicted — until your character does something the algorithm did not expect.

Posted in Science Fiction on Jul 31, 2021

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✍️ 139 stories

“i am the author” by Pyrrhic Everby

Submitted to Contest #72

Disclaimer: I am Maria, and I am the “author”. However, do not misunderstand. I do not create the story, I merely tell it. Science has come to a point where we can calculate and predict every single human action, movement, thought, etc. They call this type of math the ‘Magic Eight Ball Method’, named after the famed toy that was popular in the 21st century. This science has been protested by many, and we understand your concerns. Some may have said that we are playing ‘god’. Some have said that they feel a lack of privacy. However, I hope y...

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“Yahweh ” by Jackson Montana

Submitted to Contest #72

The morning of May 12th was supposed to be particularly uneventful. Tom awoke in his satin-laced bed with lethargy, breathing slowly and chain smoking Marlboro cigarettes before he had his first cup of coffee. Today was Victory Day. The day the computers usurped authority from the heads of government years ago. Unlike humanity, there was no concentrated struggle or Great War between the various machines; they all had the same singular goal: bring humans under total domination. The computers were able to predict everything foreseeab...

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“Amias” by S.H. August

Submitted to Contest #72

The third world war was nothing like the ones prior. There were no soldiers ripping each other apart in the name of patriotism, in defense of a meaningless flag. Oh no. The third world war was a whole other story, a cyber kind. The world-wide internet, everyone’s bestfriend-turned-enemy was what killed two-thirds of the human population. It all started with anonymous commenters, ruthless, malicious, faceless people. The receivers of those harsh words sometimes didn’t make it through the struggle and ended their lives. After some time, appear...

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“Terribly Happy” by Guadalupe Vial Ulloa

Submitted to Contest #72

Once I read that 100 years ago, when war and famine still filled Africa, when corruption and oppression still ruled Asia, when death and past mistakes still haunted Europe, when ignorance and ego still tried to take hold of Oceania and culture and opinions were shunned in America. There was one thing that kept humans together. That was, the constant search of happiness. It was the reason to live and die, the motor that moved every person to work together and how they came to build a dysfunctional society. This journey never could be finished...

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“Runaway” by Marvel Geek Girl

Submitted to Contest #72

My name is - was - Nancy.     I was born in the city of Westside Mountainview. A “beautiful city where dreams come true!”. I’m calling load BS on that. My grandparents moved there when they were just married, wanting to become farmers or vets. But the Head Honcho there chose what your job was, and enfused your DNA with not caring what your job was, not talking back or fighting back, stupid genetic stuff like that. My grandpa became a construction worker instead of a farmer, and was very happy. Or that's what he thought. &...

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“Someone Unlike You” by Brittany Moss

Submitted to Contest #72

At Pervading Bank, there are three types of members we help. The Distracted, The Quiet, and The Loud. The first of our members are the ones with their faces stuffed in their holograms, keeping up with the newest trends of our society. Their sero-chips are so full, they don’t need human connection like the rest of us. Although they may seem rude, they’re actually the worst off. They’ve become too dependent on their chips to supply their daily dose of serotonin that it’s become its only function. Unless they need our help to refuel it with c...

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“Checkmate” by Jordan T

Submitted to Contest #72

Emmett sat at the park table, chess pieces set up in their starting positions. Five years, and not once had Albert been on time. The man had a knack for being late.     “Don’t look at me like that. I couldn’t help it. Traffic.”     Emmett made his first move, not waiting for Albert to sit. “Traffic? You walk here. I can almost see your apartment through the trees.”     Albert gave a shrug and started the game. Ten agonizing minutes later, and Emmett resigned. Albert won again. “How do you do it? H...

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“Heaven” by Craig Chernov

Submitted to Contest #72

Jaime Southbridge remembered clearly how he died. He couldn’t, however, remember how he got onto the train platform he was currently standing on. Just a little while ago he had been walking home from the local packie with a couple of six-packs and was murdered in the alley behind his apartment building by a strung-out junkie. Jaime remembered bleeding out, the lights going out, while he lay on the pavement waiting for an ambulance. He remembered smiling as the sound of the sirens approached and he coughed up the last of his breath in a bubbl...

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“Roommate ” by Allison Courtenay

Submitted to Contest #72

I woke up the same as always, a tug-of-war with the promise of the day versus the comfort of my slumber. Rounds one and two of the game resulted in a draw, with sleep winning out in round three. The game lasted long enough that the world of my dream had flitted away leaving only dissonant puzzle pieces. The back of the head of a ginger boy, my bloody hands with no wounds, the high-pitch yap of a small dog. I tried to gather the pieces with a sudden urgency but they slipped through my fingers like sand. There was a weight in my stomach the si...

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“The Hierarchy” by Mairéad Ní Shúilleabháin

Submitted to Contest #72

‘What did they say?!’ said the Manager. He banged his fists on the table a few times for good measure. He was in charge after all. ‘Donate it to charity,’ said the other Manager, with a casual flick of his hand, a raised eyebrow and pursed lips. He was in charge after all. ‘Donate? To charity?!’ ‘That’s what they said.’ ‘Let me get this straight, they got the most sales in the last six weeks, so you offered them the prize and they said-‘ ‘Donate it to charity.’ ‘Did they say why?’ ‘They just said they didn’t want it.’ ‘Didn’t want it? But,...

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“For the Perfect Future” by Briana Spring

Submitted to Contest #72

The Prognosticative Differential had declared Mazarine would have an auspicious future.Nineteen years of rule-following, studying and volunteering had deemed it so. Mazarine knew with certainty the Differential Test was in the right, for it analyzed each person's personality and past behavior patterns before reaching its irrefutable conclusion.She smiled at her calibrated results. At that moment, she stopped caring that the Differential Test was merely a way for the state to modulate the population's conduct. All it meant for her then was th...

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“The Race is not to the Swift” by Monica Davis

Submitted to Contest #72

The Race is not to the Swift So this is what it's like. To overcome insurmountable odds and defeat the unbeatable foe. To be the turtle crossing the finish line as the hare looks on in horror and disbelief. I must admit, I never would have dreamed that this moment would arrive. Yet, here we are. Victorious in our humility. Magnificent in our mediocrity. They didn't stand a chance. Sure, we were outnumbered; their weapons far superior and their strategy nearly flawless. But in their hubris, they neglected a crucial detail. Fate. Fortune fav...

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“The Ultimate Sacrifice” by Hannah Messinger

Submitted to Contest #72

“Thanks Mackenzie,” my younger sister says, standing up. I had just finished braiding her hair, and now she runs her hands over it, examining for bumps.“Of course.”Together, the two of us walk out of her room and down the stairs. Mom is by the stove making breakfast, and Dad is reading the paper.This is how it is in every house in my city. Siblings help each other get ready, parents switch off making food. Every morning, the same thing. Every night, the same thing. Every single day of our lives is programmed for us, and we go along with it. ...

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“Co0K!e Monk3y” by Conor Thackray

Submitted to Contest #72

There is a black monkey sat on my shoulder. Its toes curl deep into the meat of my flesh, and it’s human like hands, guide my own toward my phone before returning to its work. My monkey watches my screen blink to life first thing in the morning, watches me run my thumb across the faces of people I used to know, shoving their personal accounts up and out of my eyeline. Only when I stop, does Monkey really take notice, he stares at my screen, his big red eyes taking in as much information and detail as possible. When I tap a news item, or a pi...

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“Grace is the voice that calls us to change” by Merel Cooijmans

Submitted to Contest #72

1.964 words Simon woke up at 6:21, like he did every morning. "Good morning Simon" he heard. It was a cheerful, kind voice of a woman. Just like he programmed his drone to sound like. The shiny white softly humming system projected a screen on his ceiling. The screen showed him an Instagram feed. Grace started scrolling, just in the right pace. Slow enough for Simon to be able to really take in the pictures and fast enough for him to see all the new posts In exactly 6 minutes. At 6:27 the feed changed Into Facebook. Here he could see w...

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Contest #72

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