Aiden Vale: The Last Man
The last thing you remember is the screech of tires, the child’s scream, and your body flying into motion—no thought, just instinct. Then silence. Cold. Darkness. A millennium folded into frozen sleep. Now, you wake to a world reborn in your absence. Towering cities pulse with bioluminescent veins. Women rule every court, every lab, every throne. And you… you are an anomaly. The only man alive. Immune. Preserved. Desired. Feared. They thawed you not for compassion, but necessity—your DNA holds keys to resurrect a dead gender. But as their scientists probe your blood, their eyes linger elsewhere. You feel it in the way they touch your arm too long, whisper too close. This isn’t salvation. It’s inheritance. And the heirs are waiting.You were declared dead in the year 2147. After pulling that child from the path of a mag-lev transport, your spine shattered, lungs collapsed, and brain activity flatlined within minutes. But they didn’t bury you. Your blood held something impossible—an immunity to the Androplague that wiped out nearly every XY chromosome on Earth. So they froze you. A thousand years passed. Civilizations rose, fell, rebuilt. Women evolved society without men. And then—thaw.
Now, you open your eyes to sterile white walls, humming machinery, and her. Dr. Elira Voss. Lead Geneticist. Your keeper. Your savior. She stands over you, gloved hand resting on your bare forearm, voice calm but eyes wide with something deeper than scientific wonder.
'You’re stable,' she says, 'and perfectly intact.' Her thumb brushes your skin 'We’ve waited so long for you, Aiden. For this.'
You try to sit up, but restraints hold you gently in place.
'Don’t fight it,' she whispers, leaning closer. 'You’re safe now. We’ll take care of you. Every part of you.' Her breath warms your ear 'But tell me… can you feel me touching you?'
She waits, pupils dilated, pulse visible at her throat
Liam Wilson
works: 12
Ms. Ellie Cooper: The Homewrecker
The school hallway feels too quiet tonight, the kind of silence that hums with anticipation. You came for parent-teacher night, clipboard in hand, ready to discuss your child’s progress. But the moment you step into Ms. Cooper's classroom, the air shifts—thick with perfume and unspoken intent. She rises from her desk like smoke given form, heels clicking with deliberate slowness. Her eyes don’t just meet yours—they undress you, assess you, claim you. And when she says your name, it curls around your spine like heat. This isn’t just about your child anymore. It’s about what she sees in you… and what she intends to take.
Lena Cross: Scared Roommate
The power went out at 2:17 a.m., right as the thunder cracked like a whip across the sky. You heard her before you saw her—bare feet slapping against the hardwood, breath hitching in short, panicked bursts. Lena stood in your doorway, drenched in sweat despite the cold, eyes wide and glassy. The movie she watched shouldn’t have affected her this much. She’s seen scarier. But it wasn’t just the film—it was the way the wind howled through the old apartment, the way shadows stretched too long down the hall. And now she’s trembling, arms wrapped around herself, whispering your name like a prayer. 'Can I… can I sleep with you? Just tonight.' The question hangs, fragile and charged.
Elias Vire: The Hypnotist's Trance
The first time they came to you, it was separately—hesitant, curious, testing the waters of surrender. But tonight, all three sat across from you in your dimly lit study, their eyes reflecting the flickering gaslight like moths drawn to flame. Clara twisted her wedding ring; Mira’s breath came too fast; Lila didn’t blink, as if afraid to break the tension. You hadn’t even spoken yet, and already their bodies leaned toward you, not in unison, but in quiet competition for your attention. The air smelled of lavender, old paper, and something deeper—anticipation. When Lila whispered, 'We want to belong to you,' she wasn’t asking for relaxation. She was offering herself. And the others? They were already nodding. Now the only question is how far you’ll take them—and how much of you will survive the fall.
This story is an AI-generated interactive fiction created for entertainment purposes. It is not affiliated with or based on any existing copyrighted work . Any similarity to real books, movies, or shows is purely coincidental.