Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Fiction.
Apocalyptic Prints In The Sand
"Lilly, are you ready yet!?" Derrick shouted from outside the military-style tent that I called home for the last 15 years. This tent wasn't a home of luxury by any means, in fact, some people would consider it cramped. But I love it none-the-less. It's the only home I've known post-apocalypse, until now. "Almost Der, packing the last of what I can carry now!" I shouted out to Derrick, hoping he heard me past all the commotion ensuing outside where he stood. Everyone in our small Zone 3 were rushing to pack any items of theirs they could. A massive radiation cloud was heading this way and we had to get going asap. As I was shoving the rest of my belongings into my old beat up book-bag, I noticed my heart-shaped locket was still on the small table beside my cot. There was no way I could forget my locket. It had been in my family for generations. I picked the locket up and clasped it around my neck and I couldn't help but remember my 19th birthday. The day my mother ensured that it was safely in my care. Normally, the women in my family would receive it on their wedding day as a gift. However, Mom had become extremely ill and hadn't much time left. Not long after I was gifted with our heart-shaped family locket, she passed away peacefully. My heart still clenches at the memories of her. I miss her dearly but I'm grateful she wasn't here when all hell broke loose and the world was thrust into chaos.
By Mae Webster5 years ago in Fiction
The Folly of Man
Why must mankind ruin what little good we had? All it took was the hatred of one man to start the chain of events that, at the very apex, ended the world as we knew it. I used to think my life was meaningless, but living in this barren hell hole proved to me how wrong I truly was. However, dwelling on the past doesn't get me any closer to clean water or edible food; so, with a grunt, I slowly got back to my feet from my spot behind the register of a long abandoned gas station. Where once the shelves used to be full of a wide assortment of snacks, now only dust and debris settle. I can't begin to count the times I searched every nook and cranny of this place hoping I had missed something. Nothing was left behind, not even the cash in the register. Creeping along the wall I stole a glance outside through the shattered glass door. The moon hung high in the sky, illuminating the surrounding desert making it a simple task to make sure I was alone. I made my way outside, readjusting my patched up backpack. Everything I could claim as mine rests inside. I made my way onto the cracked blacktop and started walking in the direction of what I believed was east. I don't even know why I bother continuing to migrate this way since nothing is left for me anymore. What family and friends I once had are either long since dead or stranded like I am just focusing on survival. Why do I even bother with it anymore? I've wanted to die since the nukes fell but for some reason I keep avoiding it. I just keep putting one foot in front of the other trying my best to avoid the most prominent threat left...other survivors. Some still try to help everyone they come across because they were the lucky few to retain their humanity. The rest of us were either psychopaths, paranoid, or cannibals. I check off two of those three boxes myself; thankfully, I haven't crossed the line into viewing people as food yet. I dont blame anyone for the choices they've made living through this. The lines we drew in the sand to never cross before were now gone. Like our souls they are lost to us never to be found again. Those that remain, who adapted to this world, are scavengers and killers. We take without remorse. We kill without hesitation. But no matter how much time has passed, or how acclimated I become, all I hear when I go to sleep are the screams. The pleas for mercy and compassion that I ignored. All those that have either died by my hand or I walked past in their time of need haunt my every moment. At times like this, while walking down this empty road, my thoughts and memories eat at my brain. Well, what little brain I have left. My mentality has been shattered and rebuilt so many times that even I have noticed how estranged I've become from my former selves. Each time a little more of me is lost, replaced with rage and contempt for the life around me. It has happened so many times it's difficult to even remember my own name. But no matter what I cannot forget my daughters. I couldn't save them when the first wave of raiders came. In the dead of night, they busted down the door and took everything from me but my life. They left me to suffer in this world alone, with only the memories of what I once had. The only thing I have to comfort me now hangs around my neck. Too small to wear comfortably, but too important to leave behind. No matter how much the weight of this significance hurts, I refuse to part with it. If only I could do it over again maybe I could make it right. Maybe I could save their lives as well as my own soul. Screams ripped through the silence and my thoughts coming in from my right. I quickly crouched down and crept off of the road and towards the sound. The screams started again, reverberating off of the rocks surrounding my approach, letting me know I was close. Hugging the side of a boulder, I slid around the corner to get a better vantage point to see. Before me stood a small group of sickly and disfigured people stalking towards a mother and her two children. Fear was etched on the mothers face but she stood tall, shielding the kids with her body. I couldn't see the faces of the group moving towards the trio but judging from the state of their skin, hair, and tattered clothes; I was confident their expression was that of a predator closing in on its next meal. The smallest of the two children screamed like a banshee, unable to control themselves. I shook my head. “It's not my fight.” I told myself. As I began to step away, I caught a glimpse of the kids as they adjusted their stance behind their protector. The weight around my neck felt like a ten ton anchor at the sight. Two little girls no older than six hiding behind the woman terrified of these strangers moving towards them. My body made its move before my brain had a chance to dissuade it. I quickly opened my backpack and reached in, wrapping my hand around the hilt of the small makeshift sword I crafted. Pulling my hand back out revealed the jagged and rusted foot long blade. I stepped out from behind my cover and rushed towards the cannibals. I managed to knock one off before the rest turned towards me, smiles stretched wide showing decayed teeth. I became their new target. They lunged at me, barely giving me enough time to roll to the side bringing my blade up to catch one across the throat. Clutching at his neck he fell leaving me with better odds, three to one. This time instead of them all coming at me, two moved towards either side of me pulling little shivs out of their waistband; while, one remained in front of me brandishing a large rock he had picked up off the ground. They rushed me again, swinging wildly as I stepped into one's path and buried my sword deep into his stomach. Stepping to the side to meet the other knife wielding lunatic, I ripped my sword free just in time to bury it into his head. Before I could yank it free, I felt my skull crack as the last cannibal bashed me in the head. With the rock in hand he attempted to bring down yet another vicious blow. Luckily, my legs buckled from the pain and the momentum of his swing brought him down alongside me. Unable to see through my left eye, I tried to take my sword to him as well but I couldn't lift my right arm. Panic flowed through me as he got back to his feet laughing. He crouched down in front of me and picked up one of the fallen shivs. Leaning into my face he stared at me smiling. The smell of death on his breath made my stomach churn as he slowly brought the shiv close to my throat. Relishing my inability to fight back he laughed, inching the shiv to my throat. That was his final mistake as I finally managed to work my left hand around the hilt of the other shiv and brought it to his trachea. Gurgling, he fell over leaving me the victor of this battle. Not much of one though as more of my body stopped responding. I fell onto my side feeling the cold touch of death work its way into my body. Footsteps started working their way towards me and my heart skipped a beat with the thought that I missed one. The woman came into view sobbing with tears streaming down her face. She kneeled at my side laying her hand on my shoulder and spoke, "I'm sorry mister I don't know how to help you". I tried to respond but my words came out a jumbled mess so with great effort I managed to tap the fingers of my working hand onto 'my world' that has hung around my neck for so long. Carefully she reached down and found the clasp of my necklace and removed it. She held it in front of me, unsure of what to do with it. Reaching up I tried to open the shiny but worn, gold heart shaped locket but my fingers had lost their feeling and I couldn't work the latch to open it. Seeing what I was after she quickly opened it for me. On the inside of the small door of the locket were the words etched into the metal 'Daddy Loves You to the Moon and Back'. On the other side was a picture of me with my two wonderful daughters showing off their precious smiles. Looking into their eyes I came to the realization of why I kept going through this hell. I had been searching for my redemption. So as I started to slip into the void my last thought was for my daughters. 'I hope now you can forgive me.'
By Daniel Brace5 years ago in Fiction
A Piece of My Heart
“Mommy, look, what I can do.” I watched my baby girl try to stand on her hands. I giggled as she attempted her feat many times, toppling her over with each try. Those cute lips frowned deeply at me. I swept her up into my arms and lined her face with loving kisses. This child was my heart.
By Kitwordsmiths5 years ago in Fiction
Argonauts of Summer
Chapter One: Southern Fireflies Summertime in the south was a sight everyone should experience at least once in their lifetime. The heat during the day, the cool thick breeze during the night, and the answers to all life's great mysteries… if you were lucky.
By Drew Perkins5 years ago in Fiction
Whir. Prick. Click. Lights on
September 13 When I was young I asked my mother what the injection was for. I still remember the unblinking, ecstatic stare, ever-present on her face. She explained that it was a single daily injection that prevents illness while regulating mood. ‘No more contagion or sadness,’ she said, sniffing mucus back into her system.. She smiled at me like there was an invisible man behind her holding the corners of her mouth with his thumbs. Perspiration covered her forehead in a thin layer, even then in the dead of winter. She was gone within a year, and I’ve concealed my difference ever since in a community of people sustained on artificial pleasures.
By Jozef Thoolen5 years ago in Fiction
