Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Fiction.
Gone, and Nearly Forgotten
I still remember the first day I saw her, the Old Woman digging through the wrecked house across the broken street from me. I was surprised to see someone of her age out on their own; most elderly people either lived in the compounds scattered across the ravaged country or did not live very long. The world was no longer kind to the elderly and infirm, the EVENT saw to that, half the world population died in the first week, millions more died the following months who knows how many survived now. The Old Woman was probably in her mid-twenties when it happened. I watched her continue to dig through the house. Part of me wanted to go over and see what she was looking for, to see if I could help, but the cautious part of my mind warned me to stay away, she could be bait, sick, insane. I did nothing, just stood there, and watched. She seemed to become more frantic as she dug through the wreckage, then the yelling started. “NO NO NO! it’s not here! This… this has to be it! where is it!?”. she collapsed on the ground and started to sob, my heart twinged, and I almost rushed over to help. I turned around and walked away, you cannot afford sympathy anymore.
By Michael Szilagyi5 years ago in Fiction
The Blessed
I remembered the day everything went to hell. I was only ten at the time and it was traumatic for a child that age. We were pulled out of our schools and brought to our homes where we were forced to remain for days. Military men were stationed inside our house and I remember being so afraid of what was going to happen. My sister, Layla, told me everything would be okay as long as I listened to what they said. That night I went to sleep hoping everything would get back to normal, but in the middle of the night we were all woken by those men coming inside the house. I was drug from my bed and joined my family in the middle of the living room. We sat on our couch, me in tears and the men waiting for orders.
By C.N. McDonald5 years ago in Fiction
From Our Picture Windows
Prologue The 20s were inarguably strange, uncertain times. How we survived that era is a miracle. First, it was that nasty scourge of a virus that took out nearly half of the world’s population. Coronavirus – Novel Coronavirus, and finally COVID-19 is what the so called “experts” at the time were naming it only because it first started in China just before the turn of the decade, December. Shortages on everyday household items as the hoarding began, everyone in a panic like the world was about to end. Toilet paper, paper towels, disinfectant wipes, anything and everything that had the names Clorox or Lysol on it, even Scrubbing Bubbles, all were scarce to find without paying a price. Even certain food items were in short supply and high demand. First it was a run on chicken, then beef – mostly hamburger – then pork. And it varied from week to week, a battle between what was being purchased and what was available. Canned goods flying of the shelves, leaving them in empty disarray as if a tornado had just busted through. And signs on those certain items in big bold lettering, demanding: ONLY 2 ITEMS PER CUSTOMER. Did that stopped folks from hoarding? All I know is Billy Currington hit the button when he sang, “. . . God is great, beer is good and people are crazy.” People are definitely crazy, especially during a pandemic.
By Christy D Darling5 years ago in Fiction
Depths: A Doomsday Diary
I stared at the stars, my only source of comfort and familiarity in a world that had become so alarmingly strange. My fingers danced along the chain of the heart-shaped locket that dangled from my neck. I glanced at the pictures inside. The faces that stared back were not those of anyone I knew, the locket merely a trinket I had found while ransacking a half-destroyed house. The others had made fun of me for keeping it, but for some unknown reason, I found myself unable to leave it behind. I wondered about the names that had belonged to the people whose faces seemed to peer into my very soul, the young girl with long dark curls and the older gentleman with furrowed brows. I wondered if they had been prepared for the destruction that had devastated the world, whether they were safe in some underground bunker or buried beneath a pile of rubble. I turned my face back to the stars. How long ago had I been watching the very same stars with my friends, laughing and dancing under the light of the moon? Little did we know, that night marked the ending of everything we had ever known.
By McKenna Taylor5 years ago in Fiction
Emilia's Moonstone
The sun grazing the crown of the trees struck panic in young Emilia Townsend. What once could be considered a peaceful time, watching the stars, observing the bright moon, the dark night brought agony to the humans still alive. She and her stray friend, a German Shepherd who remained nameless, hid behind a smashed brick wall, ruined by The Disaster, as she called it; the day the world came to an end.
By Alex Simpson5 years ago in Fiction
The Heart’s Truth
My heart pounded in my ears as I reached the top of the staircase. I held my breath and listened for any movement behind me. I did not think I was being followed, but it was only a matter of time before the Council would come searching for me. “This is not a kingdom I want any part in ruling,” I thought to myself. Looking over my shoulder into the familiar shadows below, the fear I felt was replaced with anger. The network of caverns and tunnels that I had always known as “home”, now seemed nothing more than a glorified dungeon. I took in a deep breath and allowed that anger to fuel my actions. The air felt heavy as I slid through the old, barracaded passage to my left and kept moving through the darkness as quietly as possible.
By Rachel Farmer5 years ago in Fiction
Dust Callers
My ma always told me that the floating cities had risen from the ground just before the oceans dried and all the green on the planet died. Squinting against the sun as I turned my face skywards, the large glittering buildings loomed over us like a foreboding truth. For twenty some odd years, this had been my view as I looked to the sky. Whether it be at night to try and steal a glimpse of the stars, or during the day, the sun glaring against the glass and being an overall distraction from the desolate waste all around us.
By Logan Webster5 years ago in Fiction
The Killing of a Rabbit
I can still feel the incandescent fiery heat burning through the sleeves of my tattered winter coat. I can still feel the inferno of the house fire creeping it’s malevolent hand up my spine and tickling at the hairs on the back of my neck.
By Amandine Castonguay5 years ago in Fiction
Hand of Love
The stale, cool light of dusk fell on his hopeful face as The Twin tore the window's tattered curtain away. The world outside was different again today, but not too different. The same broken windows adorned the city walls. The same abandoned cars populated the same scorched streets. The same silent sky bore the same forgiving light of a timeless Sun stuck in endless evening. The same unmoving stone statues of those who listened to Her stood strong, always with their hands hiding their faces. The charred corpses of those who turned Her away all wore the same pristine, twisted, maniacal expression. Dead colors. Always the same, everywhere. Except for one thing. A fresh breath charged into his lungs and filled his heart with new fire when he saw it. Today there was a sliver of green! A new path!
By Amelia Leonhart5 years ago in Fiction
Beyond His Control
Anthony scrolled through the pictures on his phone and wondered why he hadn’t taking more when he had had the chance. Pictures of how the world used to be, one in particular always got to him, it was of himself and five of his high school friends standing on a peer, the sunshine gleaming on their hair, smiles beaming without a care in the world. A knot thickened in his throat, when he remembered he would never see any of them again, not even the sun. He missed the wind and the rain, seeing new faces as he walked down the boulevard. The world was now just this bunker, and he shared it with precisely one thousand people.
By Amanda Cecil5 years ago in Fiction
