Simulacra Novels & Stories

The containment perimeter glows faintly around the room—a soft blue barrier invisible to him but clear through my lenses. He thinks he’s back on campus. He thinks the re-orientation notices are real. They aren’t. None of it is. The Council built this simulation after we retrieved him from the ruins. They said it was for observation, to measure post-Veil contamination. But sometimes, when he looks toward the mirror, I see it too—something looking back. I tighten my grip on the recorder. “Subject Cade: persistent hallucination phase continues. Auditory manifestations increasing. Mirror responsiveness high.”

"I don't remember any of those happening." It was then I recalled Alexander's words about the dangers of Simus, ‘. . .but with Simus, the creature would gradually begin to eat away one's brain. Along with the pain that comes with that, the person would lose total identity of themselves. They won't be able to recognize good from evil anymore, and there will come a time where they won't even remember how to move their body muscles.’ Those were his words. Chiara-serafina was gradually succumbing to the clutches of Simus, her identity slipping away with each passing day.

My back facing the mirror. "I guess that makes sense. The women out there are vultures." "Everyone out there." I corected. "Including me?" he took a step forward. "Especially you." He laughed softly, "so you think I'd eat you alive?" I shrugged, "maybe old me. Not this one standing in froint of you." He cocked his head to the side, like he was examining me, trying to read me, "I like this new you. I mean, I liked the old you, but the Idalia standing right

The figure that had taunted us stood before us once again, its eyes boring into ours. "Now, face your ultimate desires," it commanded, its voice a chilling echo. We exchanged a determined glance, knowing what we had to do. We had to resist the temptation to stay within the confines of this virtual world, to give in to our desires at the expense of our freedom. With unwavering resolve, we rejected the illusions before us, acknowledging that true fulfillment lay beyond the confines of this simulated reality. The figure let out a frustrated growl, its form disintegrating into pixels, until it vanished completely.

she whispered again "The unfortunate. I think I know what it means, the unfortunate are those who have the power to dream. That means the music didn’t kill me because it can’t and that’s the same reason why it didn’t kill her, the music only complied her to kill herself because it only has the power to torture her.” She said as she wiped her tears

Adam laughed at his, his lips returning to my neck as he pulled off his own shirt. "I think the word you're looking for is perfect," he said, his hands sliding up my skirt. "No." I said. "That's not it..." "Sexy?" "No." "Then what?" I thought about it for a moment. "Primal." Adam smiled as he pulled off his belt. "Darling, I can show you primal..."

“Don’t worry. I’ll be sure to send your precious mate and child to keep you company.” “I’m not dead yet.” Aluxious flicked his gaze to the hybrid, his fur melting into his human skin. His lips curved into a smile. “Also, when I met death the last time, he said I’m not his type. He’s more into people like you. Fucking disgrace to the world.”

A portfolio that has every details he need for this journey of revenge. It was a color black leather type forlder with some plastic pocket inside, where he entered pieces of paper with printed information, some aren't that detailed, but most of iut even have a picture of the woman, either naked or half. He closes his eyes and runs his fingers through the paper then he chants 'Mirror-mirror on the wall, who's the finest of them all?' as soon as his chant finish, the movement of his fingers stops. He opens his eyes to check on the name.

Because when a stranger knocked at your door in the middle of the night, asking for shelter amidst a crisis, there was simply no excuse to be made. Within that thirty days the butterfly would go through the craziest of cycles, starting as an egg enclosed within a shell that is both impenetrable and fragile. Gian embodies everything she hates about people. He's loud, too energetic, and always loves inserting himself in other people's business. Aera would make him leave if she could, and she tried for days on end. An apartment unit does not have enough room for two people who clash in every way possible. Then that shell would break to let out a creature that was hideous and scary and weird.

It lasted only a moment before she looked ahead again, just in time to doge the paint bomb trap. Aeon ran next to her through the stretch before the city part of the Training Room. This part mimicked more a suburban part of a city. It was even completed with three fake houses one can go through, as opposed to the prop houses, and several broken down cars that were dragged down here. Sare dodged paint bullet fire from up the road and fled into one of the houses, Aeon hot on her trail.