Stories About The Future Novels & Stories

There was a time, at the beginning of my relationship with Axel where we'd stay in bed, cuddling naked after sex and just talk. He would ask me how I see myself or how I see us one year from them, two years, five, twenty and so on. Sometimes I would joke, telling him crazy stories about how I'll become an astronaut or go explore Antarctica. It was fun and lighthearted. It made me look forward to those endless amazing opportunities the future would get us. One of those answers, exactly a year ago from today, was that no matter what my future will look like as long as you are in it.

They all looked the same except the second one had flaming red hair and the last one had hair almost as white as Selene’s. They all turned their eyes towards the massacre and after a while turned back to look at me. “This is what the future holds, total annihilation” the second fate spoke repeating almost the same line as the first one with a voice eerily similar to that of her sister. “But why? Where will things go wrong for this to happen?” “You underestimated your enemies and because of that the world will fall” the third one responded. “You keep talking about it like it’s sure to happen, isn’t there a way to prevent it?” I didn’t want this future.

A future with a new identity. A future with Hope. Maybe a future with Daniel.

All of it had shaped us into the people we were now. “Do you ever think about the future?” I asked, my voice barely more than a murmur. Adrian was quiet for a moment, as if the question had caught him off guard. Then, he shifted, turning slightly so that he could look at me more fully. “Of course. All the time. But I think we’ve already built something incredible together, Isla. The future is just another chapter of our story.”

he whispers to himself, looking away from me to have a silent freak-out, "That's why your mom wants to use you to gamble? And why you're so sure I won't die young. You don't just 'know' it, but you see it?" "Yes," I finally respond, sighing. There’s no point in lying or deflecting, "I can see the future... I can see multiple futures, to be honest. The most probable ones are very clear, but there's millions of options. A few things are destined to happen, but nothing is ever for certain, so the same thing could happen in a lot of different ways. Say... someone has to die, there's a million different ways for it to happen, but if it's something that big, it will happen even if I tried to stop

“It kind of is.” “No. Helpful would be a giant label.” I pointed dramatically at the page. “Past.” Then pointed to the opposite side. “Future.” I shook my head. “That’s helpful.” She laughed harder than before. I do believe she even snorted a couple times. The journal didn’t explain how far into the future the visions could extend either. Hours. Days. Months. Years. There was no explanation. Just a lovely little note informing me that future visions existed and then absolutely no instructions afterward. Typical. No damn explanations at all. This definitely isn’t white wolf 101 for dummies. That’s for sure.

She thought about what it was to sit with someone long enough that the story of the boiler became a love story, that the ordinary difficulties of an ordinary life became the texture of something you would not trade. She thought about cooling tea over a kitchen table and the words that had arrived unscheduled. She thought about the next forty years at this kitchen table, or some kitchen table, wherever they were, and the stories they were going to accumulate without knowing they were accumulating them, and she found the thought not frightening but large, enormous, the specific enormousness of a future you had chosen and were choosing and would keep choosing, ordinary

The Stranger answered quietly, "No." "He simply chose for himself." The White Book resting inside the heart of the ancient tree slowly opened by itself. Its pages turned gently. Not from wind. From memory. One page after another revealed stories Adrian had never seen. A kingdom where no wars had ever been fought. A world where Thomas never discovered the Ninth Cipher. A future where Edward died protecting a child whose name history had forgotten. Every page carried another possibility. Every possibility had once been real. Adrian reached the final page.

The library lanterns drifted overhead. The unfinished book rested open before us. And somewhere beyond the last written page— the future waited. Not as a mystery. Not as a destination. As a story. Still becoming itself.

Caiden said absentmindedly. Clara narrowed her eyes. Caiden had a tendency to clam up when talking about the future events that came after her revenge against Beryl. She was still unclear on anything that was set to happen after that point. “Can you tell me more about my future?” she asked. "You never give me much detail." Caiden shook his head. “I don’t think it’s a good idea. The future is never set in stone, if I tell you what I see right now, you might do something that affects it. What I can tell you for sure is that, you will die when the contract is fulfilled.”