The Last Survivor Jasmine Acevedo Age: 16, Grade: 11 - Springs ...

AC E VE D O , J AS M I N E
Jasmine Acevedo
Age: 16, Grade: 11

School Name: College Of Southern Nevada High School, Henderson, NV
Educator: Agnes Poliquin

Category: Science Fiction & Fantasy

T he Las t S urvivor
“It was such a tragedy,” the reporter spoke. “A whole orphanage that seemed so lively and set in place, to suddenly
disappear. Sixteen children and four adults had passed away during this calamity. It was said that there were no
survivors found, at least until now.” She walked towards a boy in his teens, the cameraman followed the reporter,
attempting to keep up with the clack of her heels. The boy wore a grey hoodie, dark blue jeans and a hat. He looked
extremely plain for someone that claimed to be so special.
“What is your name?” She asked and shoved the microphone into the boy's face.
“Zeke.” He subtly replied, obviously uncomfortable with how close the reporter had been to him. The reporter didn’t
seem to take notice of his discomfort and continued to ask him questions.
“Zeke, you say you’re a survivor of the devastation that took place so many years ago. Is that true?” She asked and
once again propelled the microphone into his face.
Zeke took another step away and leaned into the microphone, “Yes, that is true.” Zeke didn’t seem like the person
he claimed to be. The only thing the reporter did seem to detect was how he was a man of little words, but that
didn’t stop her in the slightest.
 “Why have you only come out about this now? Where have you been these last fourteen years? Who did you stay
with? Where are they now? What caused the Belhair’s Orphanage to catch fire? How did you escape? Do you know
of any other survivors?” She fired one question after the other without a single drop of hesitation.
I was sure that any person who was bombarded with questions like Zeke had been would have been immensely
vexed, but even if Zeke was, he didn’t show it; instead he grabbed the microphone from the reporter and answered
what was asked.
“I had been in a coma for over thirteen years from smoke inhalation. I woke up only a few months ago. I’m not sure
what caused the Belhair to burn down, but I’m sure to find out. I was also told that I was the only survivor to be
found. Now if you don’t mind, I have to head home for the day.” Zeke kindly gave the reporter the microphone back
and walked away.
“Wait, Zeke, what can you tell us abo-” My TV cut out as I threw three knives into the screen out of exasperation.
A survivor of the Belhair Orphanage’s demise? That’s impossible.I thought as I went to grab the throwing
knives that had ended my forty-six inch flat screen TV. I yanked them out and dropped them on the floor with the
rest of the glass from the screen. I’ll clean it up later. I walked into my office and jerked open a drawer with a
numerous amount of files. My eyes scanned over each one until I stopped on one that was labeled ‘The Belhair
Orphanage Fire’.
“A total of nineteen people had been killed, and one was never found.” I muttered under my breath.
No one knew where the missing child had gone. There had been numerous cases opening to find them, but there was
no luck. How could anyone have survived the fire?I thought as I continued to scan the paper.
It was said that every person who died had died from either the scorching flames or smoke inhalation. Almost every
victim had passed trapped inside different rooms with no way out. All the doors had been barricaded. Each person
was trapped like a bird in a cage. They were unable to fly, unable to flee from the agonizing death that had awaited
them. After I read the description of the fire, I placed the paper down on my desk. I let out a sigh of frustration and
let myself fall into my chair. My mind had wandered through multiple scenarios and escape routes, but with the
blueprint of the house and where each death had happened, there wasn’t a single way someone could have survived.
I opened the file and grabbed a picture of the kids who had lived there. I scrutinized the photo until my eyes landed
on a boy who had shared some of the same facial features as the same guy from TV.
It doesn’t make any sense. I thought to myself, as I rubbed my temple.It’s not possible for someone to have
survived that mishap. Yet, someone survived it anyways.
“The Belhair Orphanage Fire.” I read to myself as I picked up the paper once again.

It was guaranteed that no one had survived the fire, I had made sure of that, because I’m the one who caused it.
A month had passed after I heard the news of a survivor from the Belhair Orphanage Fire. At first, I wasn’t sure
how to comprehend that I made the mistake of leaving someone alive, but after the days slipped by, I had found a
solution to fix the feelings that ate away at me during the moonless nights. It was simple, and I would be lying if I
said I wasn’t a bit disappointed that I hadn’t figured it out before. All I had to do was kill the guy, and afterwards
everything would be okay again. At least I had assumed that.
I wasn’t sure how many days had passed after I came to the conclusion to kill him. The only thought on my mind was
how, when and where. It was valuable information for me, so I wasn’t liable to be caught. Everything had to be
perfect, and I made sure of that.
The days continued to drift by while I had been performing what I would call valuable research, but others would
call it stalking. He didn’t seem like the person to do anything extraordinary, but I couldn’t be so quick to judge. His
schedule was everything but special. He went to a school for adults, ate at the same run down restaurant almost
every day, then he went home. There were certain occasions where he would leave his apartment, but it was only for
a quick run to get snacks. He didn’t seem to be getting anywhere in his life; it was pathetic.
I was spinning in my chair when I had come to the conclusion that it had to be that night. I couldn’t wait anymore.
My patience had worn thin. The tolerance I held for his every breath had diminished.
He has to go. Now. I thought and stopped spinning.
I had been waiting for the perfect opportunity, but I couldn’t handle the resentment I had for him. The thought of him
living and breathing had me sleep deprived. My nights were full of chagrin and pique.
How could I have failed? How could I have skipped over a single individual?The thoughts had haunted my
brain and left me with bloodshot and strained eyes. My demons were winning, and I couldn’t let that happen. I
wasn’t able to take the torment for another second when I could’ve done something about it, so I did.
I made my way through the dark. It seemed to be the perfect setting for someone’s life to end. I was consumed into
the darkness of the night, and emerged back out as I came under a street light. I was merely a shadow, nothing more
and nothing less. I continued to make my way through the night without delay. I was ready to get this over with and
move on with my life without looking back. I was tied to the past due to Zeke. We were linked and I wasn’t fond of
it in the slightest. But if I severed that tie, then everything would go back to normal. I wouldn’t have to worry about
some insolent being interfering with my life unintentionally. It was an effortless task with a side of risk that I was
willing to take. It had to be done.
After maneuvering my way through the dark, I had finally come across his apartment. He resided on the second
story, so I didn’t have to do much work. I made my way up the set of stairs, one step at a time, one stride closer to
salvation. It didn’t take long before I was standing at his door. I studied my surroundings before I seized my lock
pick and began to toil with his lock. It was a mere seconds until his lock gave way, but it seemed so perpetual. I
gradually opened his door, and winced as I heard it squeak on its hinges. I stepped inside his apartment and shut the
door discreetly, making sure I had locked it before I moved away. I maneuvered my way through his home, but
stopped after I heard the toilet flush. I rolled my eyes in annoyance. Seriously?
I flipped his kitchen light on and sat on his couch, waiting for him to leave the bathroom. I grasped onto my knife
and twirled it around my fingers. After a few seconds had passed, the bathroom door creaked open, and Zeke
walked out, covering his mouth as he yawned. His eyes widened as he saw me, a total stranger, relaxing on his
couch, with a knife in hand.
“Who are you?” Adrenaline appeared to rush through his body as he went from being at ease, to being attentive to
me and his surroundings.
“Hey, Zeke.” I said and stood up from his couch.
He took a cautious step back as I took one forward.
Smart. I thought briskly.
“I won’t ask again. Who are you? What are you doing in my house?” He asked, and slowly made his way to his
bedroom.
“No sudden movements.” I spoke and raised my knife in a threatening manner.
He stopped his footing and glared at me, his eyebrows furrowed in caution.
“Okay, let’s get this over with, Zeke. I’m Vera and I’m here to kill you. Touching reunion, am I right?” I grinned
sinisterly and began to saunter towards my prey.
He took the equivalent of steps back as I took forward.
“Reunion? What are you talking about? I’ve never even met you in my li-” His eyes dilated as realization had
dawned upon him. “Vera? You lived? B-but there were no survivors. I was the only one.”
“No, I was the only one.” I seethed. “And thenyou came out of nowhere and claimed to be a survivor. Well don’t
worry, Zeke, because you won’t be a survivor for much longer.”
I didn’t hesitate to charge at him with my knife in front. He made a b-line for his room and slammed the door in my

face. The action had only aggravated me more.
“Vera, wait. Why are you trying to kill me? What did I do? We’re family. We have each other.” He called out from
the other side of the door.
“You are just as braindead as you were back then.” I fumed and stabbed the door with my blade.
I smiled as I heard him grunt from the other side.
Looks like I got a hit.I thought and pulled my knife out of the wood.
“What do you mean?” He asked, as his footsteps bagan to retreat away from the door.
“How do you think the fire started to begin with? Someone had caused it. It wasn’t natural. Who do you think
locked all the doors to keep people from escaping? Come on, Zeke, I had expected more from you.” I shouted and
kicked down his door.
I scoured the room for him until I saw him stand up from the corner of his bed. I stalked towards him, ready to finish
the task, but stopped dead in my tracks when he raised a gun at me.
“Why did you kill them? Why would you kill your family?” He questioned.
Anyone could hear the pain in his voice, see the pain in his eyes. His emotions phased right through me as I
registered what he had asked.
Family? I thought.
I was sure I was composed and controlled, but after those words left his mouth, I was livid.
“Family?” I muttered quietly. “My family?”
I couldn’t keep myself from breaking, so I didn’t. I felt a laugh erupt from my mouth. But it didn’t stop there. I kept
laughing. All I could see was red as I continued to chuckle maniacally.
“They weren’t my family.” I laughed. “They were never my family. They were meritless beings who didn’t deserve to
breathe. It was inevitable. They had it coming with their imbecilic smiles and imprudent laughter. They had everything
they desired and I had nothing, They had the audacity to flaunt their new family in my face, knowing that I had
nobody. They weren’t justified to populate the Earth. They were destined to die by my hands the second they came
out of the womb, and I made sure of that. Not once, did I ever consider them as my family. They were nothing but
parasites that had to be exterminated.” I was infuriated at that point.
Red was the only color in my sights. My ears were ringing. I couldn’t think straight. One word had been repeated in
my head. Kill. Kill. Kill. I didn’t bother waiting for him to respond. I lunged at him with all my power and took him
down. I didn’t care for the consequences, he needed to die. I felt my blade make contact with his skin, but I didn’t
hold back. Everything seemed to happen so fast yet so slow. I thrusted my knife into his chest. I heard him groan in
agony, but I didn’t stop there. I twisted the knife inside of him, and savagely ripped it out. I was bloodthirsty, and he
was the only one who could satisfy my desire. I looked into his eyes. I could make out the greyish color out of all
the red I was seeing. His eyes, they reminded me of the smoke from the fire that burned the place he called home.
Smoke that came from the burning fire in his soul, but it was slowly dying out, and his eyes were slowly losing their
life.
I slid off his body and laid on the floor next to him. I should have been relieved that he was dead, and I was, but
there was another emotion that was just as strong as that. Pain. I felt my vision begin to blur, and my eyelids felt so
heavy.
What’s wrong with me? Why does it hurt so much?I thought as my hand moved to touch where the pain had
derived from. It was wet. It only took a split second for me to realize what had happened. He shot me. I tried to
laugh, but I ended up spurting blood onto the floor.
How ironic. I thought before I let myself fall into the depths of darkness.
And with my last breath, the last survivor of the Belhair Orphanage Fire had ceased to be.

ALE XAN D E R , I S AB E LLE
Isabelle Alexander
Age: 13, Grade: 8

School Name: Lois & Jerry Tarkanian Middle School, Las Vegas, NV
Educators: Carmen Gluth, Jenna Lenoir, Alana Souza

Category: Science Fiction & Fantasy

T he P hantom and the P he onix

The Phantom and the Phoenix
I gave a sad smile towards the demolished, generation’s old family home. The LaLaurie mansion. The home where I
said my first word, took my first step, laughed, cried, screamed, read, and learned. The home where my mother died
of apparent unknown causes. The house where my dad’s sister raised me. It’s my everything. Well, it was.
Before I get to the real story, let me introduce myself. My name is Josephine LaLaurie and I am twenty-two years
old, with a bachelor's degree in world history. My sixth great- grandmother is infamously known as the slave killer.
That’s right, Marie Delphine LaLaurie is one of my great-grandmothers, and I’m not proud of it either. You may also
be wondering why my aunt raised me, not my dad. He died in a car crash before I was even born. My best friend is
Robert Lavue. He is the sixth great-grandson of Marie Lavue, who happened to be New Orleans’ Voodoo Queen.
Now, my real story started a day ago. I had gone back to the mansion after my last semester at Loyola University in
New Orleans. My aunt had died of pancreatic cancer on Christmas, so it was going to be extra lonely, or so I
thought.
I swung my feet onto the bone-chilling hardwood floors on what I hoped to be one of the happiest days of my life.
With a cheek aching smile, I dashed out of the master bedroom into the kitchen to help Sally, my maid and dear
friend, make breakfast.
When I burst into the kitchen, I latched myself onto the older woman, electing a laugh out of her. When I released
her, my smile dropped off my face when I saw her holding a letter addressed to me in my mother's delicate and
spidery handwriting.
“She asked me to give this to you on your twenty-second birthday before she passed,” Sally whispered, handing the
yellowed parchment to me.
I collapsed into the nearest seat frantically unfolding the crisp and fragile letter. As I read, tears built in the corners
of my eyes before they slowly released themselves one by one. My tears gained speed as I finished reading and I let
out a quiet sob. I dropped the letter onto the floor and a sketch floated out like a feather, falling to the floor.
Desperately, I tipped onto the wood floors scrambling to grab the sketch. I studied my mom’s beautiful artwork
before flipping it over to find a frantic warning.
After rereading the letter and warning, I glanced up to find Sally replaced by a translucent figure in a Victorian
dress. She grabbed me by my hair and dragged me, struggling and calling for help, to the attic where she threw me
out the open window. I felt the wind envelop me in a chilling hug as I flailed around. As the ground approached, I let
out a glass shattering scream. I suddenly felt a pair of arms clamp onto my knees and waist. I looked up to see my
best friend Robert hugging me tightly.
“Are you okay?” was all he asked into my long, wavy, ashy brown hair.
The only response I gave was shake of the head.
    He put me on the ground, only to be pulled into the house. I darted into the kitchen and fell to the ground
gathering the papers once again, thrusting them into Robert's hand. As he studied them carefully, I curled into a ball,
sobbing.
After a little while, I felt a pair of arms wrap around me. When I looked up, I saw Sally hugging me in a bone
shattering, consoling hug. After scanning my eyes across the room I saw Robert rereading the letters again and again
in the hall. After a couple more minutes on the cold, back-aching floor, I walked into the hall and past Robert.I
snatched the parchment from his hands and stomped to the basement.
As I flung open the basement door, a horrendous smell of rotten bodies flooded my senses causing me to gag. I
powered through the smell and ventured further in. I reached the chest my mother mentioned in her letter. I flung it
open to find candles, matches, and a dress. I grabbed as much as possible. I looked around after standing up, when

I saw a painting hung on the far wall from the door. Lighting a delicate candle, I walked closer to it. I saw that it
was a painting of a young girl that eerily resembled myself. The young girl had the same clouded hazel eyes, same
blood red lips, same pale complexion, but the only difference was her hair was much straighter and darker than
mine.
I read the inscription to see that it was Marie Delphine LaLaurie at my age. I flung around when a hand came to the
small of my back, to find a surprised Robert.
I guided him upstairs to my bedroom. I hurriedly explained to Robert what transpired since I awoke and the plan I
had formulated after reading the letters. I let him process as I went into the bathroom to change into the vintage navy
blue floral dress that I grabbed from my mother's chest.
As I exited the bathroom, I grabbed a pair of Converse from my shoe rack before sitting next to Robert. He looked
like a fish, trying to find something to say but failing miserably. I put my hair into a ponytail as I stood to grab a
backpack to put all of my candles into before grabbing the matches and letters. On my desk I noticed the candle,
from the basement, was still lit.
“Are you mad?!” he finally exclaimed, as I blew it out.
“I hope I am,” I chuckled. “Being mad is better than a murderous ancestor haunting me.”
“What did your mom mean when she said it’s cursed?”
As I went to speak, a hand grabbed me by the throat, shoving me out of the room into the hallway, until I hit the wall
that curved against the spiral staircase at the end of the hall. I was struggling for air when Robert’s hand passed
through Madame LaLaurie's body of vapor, making her disappear into thin air. I collapsed onto the rug lined floor
gasping and clutching my throat. Robert rubbed my back. After a couple of minutes I stood and ran to the courtyard
where I knew Sally would be tending to the flowers.
“Sally!” I called to her panting.
“What’s the matter my dear Jo?” she asked.
“You need to grab any personal belongings of your’s and go home!” I practically yelled.
“Wait. Why?” she asked, confused.
“It’s not safe here!” I said pushing her to the foray where her purse sat and out the door.
I closed the door as she was going to say something. Robert had finally caught up. He grabbed my hand after
handing me my backpack, knowing we were leaving. My plan was to leave and never come back.
We walked to Robert’s french quarter apartment. I took the letters out of my backpack and read each one carefully.
The warning said, “My dearest Jo’Amore- Madame LaLaurie is out to get me. So, if you are reading this it
means she succeeded, and I have crossed over. The candles from the previously mentioned chest are the key.
They will protect you from the horrendous truths of our home. Remember, ‘I’ve seen fire and I’ve seen rain’-
Mother.”
I realized what I needed to do.
I abruptly stood up and ran out of the apartment leaving the letter on the table. I ran as fast as I could to my
childhood home. I burst through the front door and grabbed all of the candles from my bag and ran all about the
house putting them in the dozens of candelabras my home had. I put all of the candlesticks in front of curtains and
low hanging paintings. I noted everything for the last time, so I would never forget. The mahogany furniture, the old
and dusty smell, the ornate molding, all of it.
As I grabbed the box of matches from my bag, I was pushed down to the floor by Robert as he struck his hand
through the limpid Madame LaLaurie, who was about to grab me for the third time. Once she disappeared, Robert
pulled me up, while asking, “What in the world are you doing?!”
“Just get out of here!!” I yelled while striking a match and starting to light the candles nearest to me.
“No-” He was cut off by me pushing him down the stairs.
“GO!!” I yelled picking up my pace. With that he listened and ran out of the ornate mansion. As I got to the
basement, I tripped on a step and fell into the door. I recovered quickly and pushed the slightly ajar door open. I lit
the last candle before running out of the home and onto the street next to Robert.
“Why would you do that?!” He screamed in my face.
“My mom told me to,” I whispered watching the flames spread across my haunted house, with the most joyful of
memories.
“What?” he asked, surprised.
“The last line is a lyric from the song ‘Fire and Rain’ by James Taylor,” I explained, tearfully. “She used to sing that
song to me as a lullaby. The letters were riddles. As you know she said there were things she wanted to do but never
got the chance to. One of those things was to light her hand crafted candles for the first time. She also told me where
they were. She wanted me to light them and let them burn.”
At that, Robert pulled me into a hug as we watched the LaLaurie Mansion burn well into the night. I gave a sad
smile towards the demolished generations old family home. We turned to leave as rain started to come down in heavy

sheets.
“It’s a good thing,” I said breaking the long silence.
“What is?” he asked.
“The house,” I said with a playful smile. “It was too big for only one full time resident.”
“What are you going to do now?”
“Eat, then sleep all day,” I answered, pulling him in the direction of his apartment.
“You rose from the ashes, Jo,” Robert said, referencing a note of encouragement from my mom’s first letter. I smiled
and pulled myself into his side.
I’m going to leave you on this important note. Rise up from the pain and hardships of life. It’s like what Octavia E.
Butler wrote in Parable of the Talents, “In order to rise from its own ashes, a phoenix must burn.”

B E RT R AN D , J AYC E
Jayce Bertrand
Age: 16, Grade: 11

School Name: Bishop Gorman High School, Las Vegas, NV
Educator: Nathan Radzak

Category: Science Fiction & Fantasy

He artle s s
The plant let its workers off at 7:30 every night. The massive turbines and stacks breathed out massive clouds of
water vapor each minute, like a dragon breathing fire into the night sky in a fit of rage. Reggie turned and looked up
at the massive concrete structures towering above him. So high in the sky, while he was so low on the ground.
A meaty hand patting him on the back woke him from his minute-long fantasy. He turned and saw the dark, goofy
face of Dante. Reggie couldn’t help but smile back. They began walking with each other, not even speaking, just two
friends enjoying a nice walk. It made Reggie feel more comfortable; the two had been in each other’s lives since they
were born in the same unit. If Dante was happy in life, why shouldn’t Reggie be as well?
“You hear about the layoffs?” Dante began.
Reggie frowned and nodded. “Heard that the Higher is putting more funding into police.”
Dante let out a bitter laugh and furrowed his brow. “Wouldn’t need more funding if you cut out those dumb-ass
fuckin’ Marshals.”
Reggie nervously looked around. With their luck, a Marshal just might be waiting around the corner right now.
“I’m not worried, though”, Dante continued, regaining his usual cool disposition. “We control the power. They fire
us, they can kiss their lights goodbye.”
“Yeah,” Reggie said, not really listening, thinking about the possibility of those giant chimneys shutting off, vapor no
longer rising from its gaping maw. How eerily dark would the night sky be?
The pair stopped in their tracks as a low hum filled the silent air. Dante let out a low curse as Reggie began
frantically fumbling for his ID. The hum grew louder and louder and Dante began pulling out his ID as well.
It emerged from around the corner, hidden by the grey concrete wall. It hovered six inches above the ground. Its left
arm was outstretched, training a rifle and a red light on the pair. Its sleek metal body was freshly washed and shined,
except for a single scratch on its shoulder, most definitely caused by a flying rock.
Reggie and Dante had just run into a Marshal.
A low, robotic voice echoed through its voice box. “Halt. Show proof of identification immediately.” A click rang out
as the rife was cocked. Reggie, shaking like a madman, held out his ID. A blue light scanned over the card, and the
ring of a bell came from the voice box. Reggie was safe. The Marshal turned its gun on Dante.
“Identification. Now.” Dante let out a huff and showed his card, shaking much less than Reggie as that blue light
scanned his ID. After a few seconds, longer than it took for Reggie, the bell rang out again. “Thank you,” the
Marshal said vacantly. “Continue on with your day.” It hovered past the pair, as Dante hawked up snot and spat it at
the ground.
“Fuckin’ Marshals,” he growled. “Complete waste of money. We’re losing our jobs to that?!” Dante growled as the
pair continued walking.
“Quiet down, man,” Reggie whispered. “You don’t know if that thing is still listening.”
“I ain’t scared of that damn thing. I ain’t even scared of the Higher.”
“Dante!,” Reggie hissed. He looked over his shoulder, and back around in front of him. “You’re gonna get us both
killed!”
Dante let out a bitter laugh. “I’m just saying. We ain’t ever seen the Higher. How do we know if they exist?”
Reggie looked around nervously again. “Who else produces the Marshals?”
Dante shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe it's the Marshals making the Marshals. Maybe the Higher’s been gone for
years, and it’s all just a big lie.”
Reggie laughed nervously. “You’ve been going to too many of those meetings, man.”
“Not my fault they’re telling the truth. Not my fault that for once I feel free.” Dante stopped and stared up at the
sky. Reggie looked around. They were in front of his apartment complex, looming over them like a concrete giant.
“I wanna own a house one day, Reggie,” Dante began again, still staring wistfully up at the sky. “Like the Foreman

does. A house where the bathroom is mine, and the kitchen is mine.”
Reggie smiled weakly. “Keep working to get it. Isn’t that what they always told us?”
Dante responded, still not looking at his best friend. “Yeah.” Reggie looked down at his feet. He never knew what to
do when Dante got like this. After what seemed an hour, Dante looked down and ahead of him. “I got another
meeting tonight. It’d be great if you came. The Hidden Voices accept everyone”
“Dante, you know I’m not about all that shit,” Dante nodded, all the while still staring ahead of him.
“Yeah. Get inside safe. See you at work.”
Reggie patted him on the back, desperately hoping that his friend would turn and look at him. But Dante just walked
forward, off into the night. Reggie watched him walk away, and then started up the steps to his complex, hoping the
elevator was working. He didn’t wanna climb the ladder to the 20th story tonight.
Dante didn’t stop by Reggie’s house the next morning. That almost made Reggie late. He rolled out of bed in a
panic, grabbing an apple as he dashed from his room and practically flew down the ladder. Reggie pulled his plant
jacket over his head as he dialed Dante’s number. No answer. Reggie cursed to himself, and began sprinting towards
the two massive smoke stacks that loomed in the sky.
Dante wasn’t at work, either. Reggie began to panic as he took his station as the vaporizer. Martin Wyem looked
over at Reggie as he guided two nuclear rods into the pool of water 20 feet below them. “You good, Reggie?”
Reggie nodded, looking blankly at the pool. “Uh-huh.” Martin continued to look at him. The two weren’t great
friends, but Martin sure as hell didn’t want Reggie half-assing his work on the vaporizer.
Reggie was jolted from his thoughts as the metal doors slammed open. Barry Yensen charged in, face whiter than
usual. He limped over to the concrete desk closest to the doors, and collapsed in the chair, breathing heavily. Martin
rushed over to him.
“What’s going on, Barry?”
“Marshals,” Barry gasped. “One of them just gunned down a whole group of people. Like they were dogs.”
“What for?” A group had gathered around Barry. Reggie stood and strode over to the group. Part of him was glad
Dante wasn’t here now; if he had heard all this, he would have taken to the streets to fight the Marshals himself.
“I don’t know,” Barry breathed again. “They were all gathered around a light post. They all had a pamphlet. The
Marshal told them to move, and they didn’t. Then BAM! The fucking thing opened fire. No warning. Just slaughtered
them all. That thing was fucking heartless.” A murmur rose among the crowd.
“Why were they gathered?”, a voice asked.
Barry shook his head, silently. “Don’t know. I grabbed this before I ran, though.” He reached into his pocket, and
pulled out a white pamphlet, stained red with blood. Martin snatched the pamphlet and opened it. After a second of
silence, he laughed and dropped it on the floor.
“Just a bunch of Hidden Voices bullshit.”
“What does it say?”, someone called out.
“Says nothing,” Martin responded. “Just some bullshit about how the Higher is lying to us, and then a list of names.
Looks like some stupid ass fucks got gunned down last night.” Reggie’s heart skipped a beat.
“Serves ‘em right,” another voice shouted as Reggie drifted towards the center of the crowd, not feeling his feet
touch the ground.
“Damn straight. If they wanna complain about their lives, they don’t deserve ‘em.” Reggie pushed through the
crowd, knocking people over, not hearing their yelling and curses at him.
“Shouldn’t have fucked with the Marshals,” another voice yelled.
“If they listened to ‘em, they’d still be alive.”
Reggie pulled a man back by his shoulder. He dove at Martin’s feet grabbing the bloody pamphlet. People began
yelling and laughing as Reggie’s shaking hands opened the pamphlet. Time seemed to slow as he read:
The Higher has lied to us. They are currently lying to us. They will always lie to us. Only when we raise
our Hidden Voices will we be truly free and liberated from the pains of our lives, just as twelve of our brave
Voices were liberated last night:
IN M EM ORIAM
Mike Frasen
Jud Lasy
Emma Grein
Dante Meyers
Reggie dropped the pamphlet back onto the floor. He stumbled up off his knees as the crowd continued to laugh and
insult him. Martin reached out to Reggie, a concerned look covering his face. Reggie could feel the blood pulsing in
his brain as his right fist connected with Martin’s jaw, knocking his coworker to the ground. The crowd went silent.
Reggie pushed and fought his way through the crowd, tearing off his safety goggles as he charged through the same
metals doors that Barry charged through. Reggie charged out in the street, tripping over the curb. His face slammed

into the concrete. Reggie felt a snap in his nose. Blood pouring from his nostril, Reggie turned over and looked up at
those two giant chimneys, the two smoke stacks that Reggie worked all day to keep running. For what? Just to be
gunned down in the street?
Now you’re asking the real questions, Reg, Dante’s voice called in Reggie’s head. A thousand other thoughts
began flying. One thought screamed louder than others:
The force of a car against the generator could be enough to destroy the plant
Reggie stumbled up and pulled out his wallet. He had $100 in cash; enough to rent a car for an hour. The same fire
that must’ve burned inside Dante began to burn in Reggie as well. No, not burn. Rage It raged as Reggie turned and
started down the sidewalk. The Car Renter was half a mile away. He could be back before lunch let out.
Then they’d all see…
Reggie let out a giddy laugh as he began to jog down the sidewalk. That jog turned into a sprint. How long had it
been since Reggie had sprinted? Since he was 8? He sure as hell felt 8 now. His senses were overloaded with the
screeching of jets overhead, security cameras clicking as they readjusted, and above all, the low below of the
turbines behind him as more and more water vapor filled the air, breathing out massive amounts of radiation every
second. They were so loud, Reggie couldn’t even hear the low hum filling rising in the air.
“Stop. Identify yourself,” a metallic voice called behind him. Reggie paid no mind. For all he cared, the Marshal was
no more than a trash incinerator on the street. He laughed and raised a finger to the sky as the Marshal repeated its
order. Lights flashed around Reggie’s mind as his excitement grew, imaging the fires and panic in the town. How
many people would die? How many would survive to see the reactions, to ponder about why he did what he did?
Would they understand? Or would he be cast as a maniac?
Who gives a fuck, they’ll all burn in hell eventually.Reggie let out another laugh, sounding like a child.
BAM!
Reggie dropped to the floor as his head exploded. The Marshal floated behind him, its left arm smoking. Its light
blinked green, and the Marshal tucked away its gun. It turned, and floated away as Reggie laid sprawled on the
concrete, blood oozing from his gaping skull.
Fuckin’ Marshals.

B E RT R AN D , J AYC E
Jayce Bertrand
Age: 16, Grade: 11

School Name: Bishop Gorman High School, Las Vegas, NV
Educator: Nathan Radzak

Category: Science Fiction & Fantasy

B loc k 32, Le ve l A
Block 32, Level A

Marie stared out of the thin column window in the metal door. Outside, a stuffed bear floated slowly through the
empty space. Marie’s heart skipped a beat, as her mind went to Peep’s own stuffed bear. She whirled around, and
looked at her sleeping daughter. Marie smiled; her own stuffed bear was still clutched in her tiny hands.
Ray stooped down and walked through the hastily carved hole in the wall. He grabbed Marie by her hips and kissed
her neck. Marie smiled faintly, looking back out in the darkness outside the door. “Peep’s out cold, baby,” Ray
whispered as he continued to kiss her. “Why are you still here?” Marie smiled and cleared her throat.
“Just looking out the window,” she motioned her head towards the tiny lights dotting the dark void outside. “It’s
amazing. How I can see Block 15 from here.” Ray chuckled softly in her ear. Peep snored quietly behind them.
“It’s even more amazing that it takes five minutes to walk from here to there. You wanna go there now? We could get
a bite to eat.” Marie shook her head.
“No, I think I’m fine right here.” She turned and kissed Ray on the lips. The two had been married for a year now,
after Marie found out she was married to Peep. Her mother was in full support of the marriage. Her father was more
against it; he was against marriage in general. He called it “old school ideas” for “old school people who destroyed
the world”. When Marie asked her father why he had married her mother, he responded that it was the only way her
parents would let them be together.
Her father had died a month ago. Marie sobbed as his body was loaded onto the stone slab and pushed into the
furnace, all the inhabitants of Level A gathered around the scene. No one knew where the ashes went; most didn’t
really want to think what awaited them outside the metal doors and stone walls of the Blocks. Father had always told
her stories of The C. The C consumed everything outside the doors.The C was cold and unforgiving. The C would
kill you if you touched it.
“I’m gonna go to Block 27 with Jym and Roonie. We’re gonna play cards tonight. Is that okay?”, Ray whispered
into her ear again. Marie smiled and kissed his chin.
“Make me proud, baby.” Ray chuckled again and pulled away from her. He stooped down again as he left the room
through the hole. There were about 45 holes connecting the 50 Blocks that made up Level A, the highest level in the
area. At least that’s what her father always told her. His great-great-great-great grandfather had been one of the first
people to set up Level A. He and his family had tunneled through the walls of Block 5 and met another family in
Block 6. Together, they began tunneling into other Blocks, and met dozens of other families who had survived The
C.
Over time, the families were able to combine their food, tools, and animals to develop their own tribe. They were
even able to start growing food. For over a hundred years, Level A was able to develop and live in harmony. Some
tried to cause issues, but they were always sent out to The C through Block 51, the only Block on the entire Level
that had a drain. The elders were able to create an air-tight door in the whole between Blocks 50 and 51. Anyone
who tried to cause issues would be put to sleep, laid down in Block 51, and left to be consumed by The C as the
elders opened the main door to 51 and charged back into 50, sealing the door between them. They wore special
rubber pants and shoes to protect themselves from The C.
Peep began to whine, and Marie turned to her, concerned. Whatever had stirred her was gone now. An
indescribable love swelled in Marie’s heart as she looked at her infant daughter. Her mind went to herself as a child.
Did her father feel the same feeling when he had looked at her? The two had been incredibly close their entire lives.
Marie loved her mother, but only her father understood how she felt. He had only hit her once.
She was seven years old. Her mom had just yelled at her for something she couldn’t remember. Maybe Marie had
spilled some water and her mother had been upset that she had wasted something so valuable. Whatever it was,

Marie had been upset enough to want to leave the Level. She couldn’t go to Level B, either; the hole had been
sealed over once again. There was only one place to go: The C.
Marie had begun tugging on the doors of Block 37 like an animal. She pulled with all her strength, desperate to open
the door and be swallowed up by The C. Her father charged through the hole in the wall, a metal pipe in hand,
wondering if a Level B dweller had snuck above and was trying to sabotage Level A. Instead, he only saw his seven
year-old daughter.
He scooped her up, planted her on the floor, and slapped her across the face all in one fluid motion. Marie stared at
her beloved father in shock, cheek stinging, as she began to cry. His stone-cold face melted, and he hugged her
tightly, rubbing her back. “Shh, baby,” he whispered to his daughter. “I’m sorry, baby. Daddy’s sorry.” Marie
continued to sob. “You just scared me, baby,” he continued. “You know I get angry when I’m scared.” He pulled
away, and kissed Marie on the forehead. Her crying had stopped.
“Why can’t I go out there, papa?”, she whispered to him. “What’s so scary out there?” Her father looked at her,
trying to find his words. He cleared his throat, and moistened his lips awkwardly. He glanced at the darkness outside
the door, and spoke.
“There was a world out there once, princess,” he began. “Outside those doors. Millions of people lived out there in
harmony. But we were running out of space. There were too many of us to fit. The C surrounded us and stopped us
from expanding. So we began to carve down into the earth. We dug deep below the earth. And then we found a way
to protect ourselves from The C. They built a beautiful city made of gold surrounded byThe C.
“But the world went insane. Before there was a Level A or a Level B, everyone killed each other. The world was
dying. The city of gold broke away from the rest of the world and left only a hole which allowed The C to consume
the rest of the world from below. Only a few people were able to hide in the Blocks and save themselves as
everyone else was consumed. Your great-great-great-great-great grandfather was one of the people who survived.”
Marie stared at her father sadly. “The C consumed everyone else. Don’t let it consume you too.”
A bang echoed through the blocks, bringing Marie back to the present. Several more bangs followed. Gemma, a
friend since childhood, stumbled into Block 32. The side of her head was bloodied. Marie rushed over to her as
Gemma fell to the ground. She had been hit on the side of her head.
“Gem,” Marie whispered, trying not to wake Peep up. “What happened? “What’s going on?” Gemma stared blankly
back at Marie, not recognizing her. Peep had begun to stir, and let out a cry.
“Level B,” Gemma whispered. “They opened the floor. In Block 27. They’re invading.” Marie had stopped listening
as she set Gemma’s head on the floor and stood up. She stared through the hole in the wall.
“Gem,” Marie stuttered, not staring at her friend. “Where’s Ray?” Silence. Peep continued to wail. “Gemma,” Marie
repeated. “Did you see Ray?” Still silence. Marie glanced down at her friend. The lights in her eyes had
disappeared. It was clear her breath was gone. Marie glanced back at her daughter, who was screaming now. Marie
charged through the hole and towards Block 27.
She was met with dozens of people running away from the screaming mass of men. They were beating on each other
with metal poles. Every man had been given one the day they turned 18. Marie’s father told her that a long time ago
men fought with sticks that breathed fire. Now they fought wars with metal poles. A young man stumbled into Marie.
His eyebrow was split in half. Another man collapsed to the ground, spitting out teeth.
Level A and Level B had been at war with each other for over a hundred years. Level A had dug into the floor at
almost the same time Level B had dug into the roof. Peace had only lasted a couple of days. Since then, the hole
connecting the two levels had been sealed and reopened two hundred and seventy-two times.
Now it was two hundred and seventy-three. Marie pushed through the crowd, screaming Ray’s name. Only the
grunts and screams of men killing each other responded to her. Marie continued to push through the crowd,
screaming for her husband as she shoved the men aside.
A metal pole hissed as it swung through the air and struck Marie in the center of her head. She fell to the ground,
dazed. Blood streamed from a cut into her eye. She wiped the blood away and looked around. Her eyes froze on a
young man’s broken face.
Ray stared blankly at her with his brilliant blue eyes. His skull had been split open above his left eyebrow. There was
no life in his eyes, his beautiful blue eyes. The men struggled and stepped on Marie as she stared at her husband,
begging him to blink, to smile, to wink at her and let her know everything was okay.
Her mind went to Peep, probably still sobbing in Block 32 as Gemma lay on the ground, lifeless. Marie envied the
innocence her daughter had, crying but not knowing why she was crying, unaware of the death occurring only a few
Blocks away. Marie wished with everything in her that somehow she could be just as innocent and oblivious to the
hell that had formed around her.
Her mind went to her father as a group of men rushed into the Block and joined the violence. They had raided both
the pantries and gardens; Level A had done the same to them last time. How many times had they gone back and
forth, stealing each other’s supplies just to lose in a few months? One man stepped on Marie’s back and stumbled

forward, dropping a glass bottle of water. It crashed on the ground, spilling water, that valuable water, everywhere.
The pain of her father’s one and only time he hit her felt fresh as Marie remembered her own spilled water. She
remembered how hopeless she felt as her mother screamed and berated her. How funny, that her mother’s yelling
was the worst thing she would ever experience in her life. That she was willing to be consumed by The C because of
how pained she felt.
A pained smile crept over Marie’s face as she struggled to her feet, her back aching. The men continued to kill each
other as Marie walked from the Block. The thought of Peep crept into her mind, but she pushed it away. She pushed
it away as she passed a room full of bodies, their skulls split open. Some were still alive, watching Marie silently as
she strode into the next Block. Her heart began beating faster than ever, faster than during her wedding with ray, as
she walked to Block 51.
She had never been this deep in Level A. The farthest she had gone was Level 45, where her father had been sent
into the incinerator. There was usually a group of guards stationed between 49 and 50, just to make sure no
troublemakers went near the door. Now, all of them had charged out of the Block, thirsting for B Dweller blood.
She began to shake as she stooped down and crept into Block 51. She shivered; the Block was so much colder. Her
mind went back to her at seven years old, desperately tugging on the metal door that had been sealed shut. The door
in 51 wasn’t as secure as the rest of the doors. Even now, as she stood in front of the rusted metal body, The C
dripped and leaked in the room, running into the small drain in the center of the room.
A single metal bar. That was the only thing separating her from the cold, dark void of The C. It was so light that her
single, shaking hand was able to lift it and toss it aside. She wrapped her first shaking hand around the cold, long
handle of the rusted door. Then her other one. Marie thought of Gemma, lying lifeless on the concrete of Block 32.
She thought of Peep, probably crying herself to sleep now, oblivious to the carnage that was happening only a few
dozen yards away. She thought of Ray, his body being crushed and mutilated as the men continued to struggle and
bash their enemies’ heads in, fighting a never-ending battle. She thought of her father, now tiny particles of ash
floating somewhere that Marie could now never know. Marie smiled as she pulled the door open, and hundreds of
gallons of freezing seawater flooded the room, overflowing the drain and pouring into the rest of the Blocks.
Doug stared at the giant glass sphere through his binoculars. His breath kept fogging them up. He had been in cold
places before, but the Arctic was colder than he had even imagined. Jules, the captain of the ship, ambled up next to
him, and clapped him on the back. “Quite a beauty, isn’t it?”, he began, nodding towards the massive object miles in
front of them.
“Yeah,” Doug answered, “But what is it?” Jules chuckled and grabbed the binoculars from him. He looked through
them, marvelling at the island. A massive cloud of smog and haze hung in the air around the island and the sphere.
“The Block,” Jules began. “That’s what they called it. Prototype prison island made by the government. You know
San Ricardo Prison off the coast of Nevada? This was the first version of that.”
“How old is this thing?”, Doug asked, transfixed on the massive structure.
“Almost three hundred years now. Three hundred feet high, a thousand in diameter. They made it out of AlphaGlass
right when they discovered it. It was originally a test site to see if the glass could survive a nuke to the face. It could,
and now the government had an island covered in radiation.”
“So they made it a prison?”
“This was back before California went underwater. The government had originally wanted to build a prison in the
center of Los Angeles, one of biggest cities in the country back then. But once it was clear the state was about to
take a deep dive, they sent the worst of the worst here, along with their families. Rapists, murderers, animal abusers,
arsonists. They basically had the island to themselves. The government had just invented Marshals, so they didn’t
need to send live people to guard the place.
“Eventually, so many people had been packed in the prison and had made their own families, some smart-ass thought
it would be funny to apply the island for statehood. And the psychos in Congress actually approved it. Now an entire
island full of the worst America had to offer had a voice in the government. To bring in some money, people charged
with bank fraud and money laundering were sent to the Block to build banks. Only issue was the sphere was full, and
the area around it was still sick with radiation. There was nowhere to expand. So they decided to dig underground
and build a bunch of new cells. These things were so massive, entire families could live in them. The bank of the
prison was built underwater. Apparently the banks got so rich off of the drug trade in the prison that the houses in
the area were made of gold.”
“So the Block is still around today?” Jules let out a hardy laugh and shook his head, clapping Doug on the back.
“Not even close. Not twenty years after the place was built, a massive gang war erupted in the place. All the
Marshals were destroyed. Apparently, the prisoners were only able to use metal poles to beat each other to death. It
got so dangerous that the bank district built an AlphaGlass barrier between the two, and began separating from the
area. They placed airbags under the foundation, and floated the damn thing up the surface. Apparently some Chinese
pirates found the thing and plundered it to hell.”

“And the rest of the Block?”
“The war continued, and apparently some dumbass thought it would be funny to take a pole to the glass that held
back the entire ocean.”
“But I thought AlphaGlass was indestructible?”
“It is. But the bankers were so damn cheap that they used old-fashioned glass. The minute that pole hit it, the thing
shattered, and the entire place began to fill with ocean water. This just so happened at the same time California
began to flood, so the government had its own problems.”
“So the whole place flooded? Do you think anyone is still alive in there?”
Jules let out another hardy laugh. “Not a chance. If they didn’t drown, then they had already killed themselves during
the war. Ain’t no way anyone could survive in there for more than three days.”

C O S TA, TAT I AN A
Tatiana Costa
Age: 16, Grade: 11

School Name: College Of Southern Nevada High School, Henderson, NV
Educator: Agnes Poliquin

Category: Science Fiction & Fantasy

T he Vac ant Mind
    Our story begins on April 20, 2098. On this beautiful sunny day, a healthy baby girl who was planned to be
named Ophelia was born into the arms of Alaric and Paisley Graves. She was a bright child, and learned the basics
of life very quickly. 2 years later on October 5, 3000, a handsome baby boy named Xander was born into the same
loving arms.
    Five years later, everything changed. A new law was passed in Prisma City, which made each citizen's intelligence
the same. No one was allowed to be more intelligent than another. How this was possible, was a question many
asked. The government led by Anakin Woodfield, produced a microchip that would be inserted into citizens' necks.
In due time, the device would make everyone have the same amount of intelligence. Only government officials were
allowed to skip this procedure. At first, many tried to overthrow the government, but no one was successful and
many casualties were a result. If a citizen was found without a chip when scanned, they would be put in jail and
scheduled for the procedure.
    As the years passed by, the effects were starting to show on society. Ophelia, was now seventeen and dreamed of
being able to show her intelligence to the world, but she knew that she would never be able to. She knew that she
had a gift, and so did most of her friends, but she knew she wasn’t allowed to show that side of herself.
    On the other hand, Xander took the chips to his advantage and learned every inch of the city. He knew many
underground communities where they figured out how to short-circuit their chips without getting caught. Xander was
a part of many different groups but in some way they were all connected.
    Their parents tried their best to figure out a way to disable the chips even for just a couple seconds. Alaric
worked as a government official so he chose not to have a chip and studied every small detail about how the chips
worked. He wasn’t a supporter of the law because he wanted his children to live how he lived, and have their
intelligence known to the world.
    Klay was the main leader of these groups because he had connections around the city and was very intelligent. His
best friend, Fio was the co-leader, they did practically everything together. Zen and Rhett were known as security to
these underground places and would make sure only certain people knew about the entrance. Espen and Mazarine
were known as the women leaders found in the south of Prisma, and worked hand in hand with Klay and Fio who
were in the north of Prisma.
    Ophelia and her best friend Saylor, were a part of a secret society on the south of Prisma, that her brother
introduced them to. In this society, they acquired the smartest and brightest to help make the best plan to overthrow
the government in the distant future. Saylor had been best friends with Ophelia since they were babies, their mom’s
were also the best of friends. They did everything together and considered each other family.
   The day was sunny with a few clouds, Ophelia was standing in her kitchen, her brother was sitting at the table, and
her parents were sitting on the couch watching the morning news. “Today we will see a high of 82 degrees
fahrenheit.” The lady’s voice echoed throughout the house. Ophelia said her goodbyes and started her daily walk to
school, Xander followed close behind. The two split off once they got to school, Ophelia found Saylor reading a
book by the lockers.
   “Good-morning students of Prima High!” The principle yelled from the intercom, “Today is Friday! You know what
that means! Prep night!” He continued. Multiple sighs could be heard throughout the hallways. Prep night was
mandatory for all the students, it was a time where everyone in clubs or special classes would perform in front of the
rest of the school. The performances seemed to get worse and worse each week.
    “Are we going to study after prep night?” Saylor asked, ‘study’ was their codeword for going to the underground.
“Ya.” Ophelia responded as they walked into their first period class.
     Next thing they knew, they were sitting in the auditorium once again, watching the same dances and performances
from the week before. The band would perform the same song each week, the chess club would have the same two

students play chess, and the list continued. After what seemed like forever, the prep night was over.
Ophelia and Saylor walked home from school but took a quick detour and soon ran into a security guard known as
Rhett. “Good evening, ladies.” Rhett said with a welcoming smile. “Hi Rhett,” The girls said in unison. Rhett led
them into the underground tunnel, he used his scanner to short circuit their chips, and let them go once they were far
enough down. The walk to the center took around ten minutes.
    Once they got there, they were greeted by the fellow community members. They walked into the conference room
and saw Espen and Mazarine sitting at the round table along with a few other community members. “Good evening,
ladies,” Espen greeted. “Good evening, Espen,” Ophelia replied. The girls found their seats and sat waiting for the
meeting to commence. “The fate of our society is on our hands,” Mazarine started, “We have time, but we need to
hurry before the window of opportunity closes.”
   The meeting went on for hours, they needed to be prepared for what they had planned. The main topic for the
meeting was how to invade the governmental building where the chips were stored. They looked into blueprints,
routes, and times in which security guards would be found in certain areas. One of the biggest issues for them to
figure out was how to get people to start working from the inside to make the process easier overall. Ophelia
introduced her father as a helpful ally that they would be able to use. She also suggested that Rhett and Zen could
apply to become security for the building. The meeting concluded with an estimated date of when the rebellion could
commence, which was in about a month or two. The weekly meetings continued, the plan was beginning to grow and
expand. The countdown began to come closer and closer. Zen and Rhett got the opportunity to become security, and
Alaric agreed to help to work from the inside. The next weeks were filled with a lot of movement underground as
well as the recruitment of others that wanted to be involved.
    The rebellion was just a day away now, the underground decided that it would be best to strike at night while
most of the government employees weren’t in the building. When the day finally came around, they proceeded the
day as normal until the sun went down. Ophelia, Xander, and Saylor made sure that the plans were known
throughout the underground and helped around before it was finally time to strike. Soon later, the signal was flared
and the citizen’s from the underground made their way towards the government building. The march of hundreds of
people came from every which way of the city. By the time they arrived, it was clear to everyone that the rebellion
was starting now.