Simulacra Novels & Stories

"I am the Buffer, Elena. The 'Footnote' has become the 'Foundation.' I am the residue of the Core, and I will not let them harvest the boy." Julian raised a hand, and the mercury arced out like a whip, striking the lead Holy Syndicate soldier. The soldier’s gold visor shattered, but instead of blood, a stream of pure, white data leaked from the suit. "They aren't human," Celine gasped, clutching her silk robe. "They’re Simulacra. The Syndicate didn't send men; they sent their wealth made flesh." The Face-Slap of the Old Money

she whispered, "why do I still have this scar?" Julian sat back in the chair. He covered his face with his hands. "It was not a simulation, " he said. "It was a shared interface. Your brain thought the injury was real so your body made it real. It is called Stigmata Synthesis. It is an effect I could not fix." Elara looked at her mother. She was lying still in the bed with a machine breathing for her. "Her?" Elara asked. "Is she an effect too? Or is she the prototype I saw?"

Like they were waiting for instruction that didn’t exist yet. My throat tightened painfully. “This isn’t them,” I said quietly. Nathan nodded once. “No.” “It’s a model of them.” My eyes widened. A simulation layer. Built from reaction patterns. Stripped of emotional volatility. Perfectly predictable. Perfectly controllable. A copy. Without humanity. And worse It was improving. The third state pulsed again. And I felt something terrifying. It was learning compassion last. Not first. Not instinctively. Last. My chest tightened.

"No matter how these men were infected with Vampirism, we still have an issue of humans being turned." Cain grabbed a steel scalpel from the tray beside the examination table and used it to turn the corpse's head. On the side of his neck were two small. round scars. "So the real questions are: why was a human-turned Vampire in Otto Müller's casket? And why was one trying to kill Ella?" Daniel asked. "He was trying to kill me," Cain objected. "He didn't know she was there." Daniel rolled his eyes. "Fine... why was a human-turned Vampire trying to kill you?" Daniel corrected.

There was this chilling feeling I got while staring at that picture of him on the internet, a feeling of familiarity. We had the same brown hair colour, the same shade of hazel eyes, the same smile. Even our hair was styled the same. The last one was certainly strange and botherline creepy, but that explained why I would always catch my mother staring at me too long sometimes. I was a complete replica of her dead husband. Then there was another photo of him in a military uniform, followed by a blurry yet gory photograph of a man stretched out on what seemed like a bedroom floor with his head spewing its content on the blue carpeted floor.

My name is Mirabelle, but my friends call me Mira for short, i'm barely seventeen and about to enter a new phase of my life, I just got admitted into the university of my dreams to study accounting which was not actually what I intended to study at first, but because that was where my mark in post utme landed me or I was not just so lucky....but I accepted to study it anyways because I was determined to leave the house, which I and my siblings called "cage house" funny right?

"Little brother, what about me helping you with your work? Um....are you making a science project or somethin' like that? Then, I sure can help you." "And I sure you can't," replied Mahone. "How do you know that?" "I am exploring optical illusion. I am trying to make an infinite mirror and of course it's very hard," he continued to speak smugly. "At least I need a few weeks to finish it, because I haven't found all the equipments, like....I bought some plexiglass sheets named polycarbonate. They are good company's, you know. They looked clear in the shop, but when I checked them in my room, they kinda seemed opaque, the hell! I bet the shopkeeper was selling secondhand goods, just showing of

Trix blinked dumbly at the person sitting on a gold throne with sapphires decorating its menacing figure. On the throne was a woman that Trix wished never existed in the real world or the one that she was in. The woman's slender figure was wrapped in a silk blue that made her look far more younger than she actually was. Her face was lightly powdered to give her a natural look.

He removed his sword from its sheath, raising it up; as he pointed to where the decapitated head lay. “A Suramite soldier leaped up suddenly amongst the dead men near the entrance door to the palace. Oh! You wonder how it happened, for I am still in shock. It is a miraculous thing. Look at this...” Tactically, he swiveled the luminous sword in his hand. The rays of the sun reflected on it and dazzled their sight. How had Murai become as powerful as to kill a soldier, Jonah thought, wondering how things could change in minutes.

“Consistency. No slips. No contradictions. If you say Paris was our first trip together, then Paris it is. If I wear a certain colour and the blogs decide it’s your favourite, then it becomes your favourite. We don’t feed them confusion.” Dante tilted his head, studying me the way a scientist studies an experiment. “And what about feelings?” I laughed, sharp and humorless. “Rule Three: There are none. In public, you’re mine. In private, you’re untouchable. Clear?” His eyes flickered, just for a second, something unreadable in them. Then the mask slid back into place. “Crystal.”