Post Apocalyptic Novels & Stories

That's what happens in the apocalypse movies," Zylah said with a shrug. Cities collapse and humanity freaks out. I just hope that at the end of this no one will be turned undead. Or, at best, that some dead comes back to life. That statement, somehow, made me sweaty cold. The only consolation of the next day was knowing that all humanity breathed relieved to have gotten rid of a nuclear attack, because everything else was real crap. Miguel and Paul even managed to convince the rulers of our country not to go to war. Both remained alongside the head of state security to prevent him from giving the approval to the war. I didn't know how they found the man's location, if some magic was really a

He turned and walked out of the corridor, back to the surface where a newly born world was waiting to be served once more with a much more human recipe. They stepped out onto city streets now free of threats, yet filled with life beginning to wake from a long slumber. Bima realized that the apocalypse didn't end with a grand explosion, but with a bowl filled again and flavor returning to inhabit the soul. "Time for breakfast," Bima said, and for the first time in a very long while, he truly felt hungry.

On the way out, I might've accidentally shot Willa in the kneecap. Oops. Now they match. Real couple goals. In the end, every last one of those monsters got executed. Not a single one walked. Brentford Base neared completion under my watch. People rebuilt. Production came back. Three months in, the military cleared out the cities. Six months later, the vaccine hit everyone. By the one-year mark, the apocalypse was officially over. Humanity won. And the name Selene Sorrell— they'd never forget it.

At night, I could hear men wailing, women screaming, and children crying without end. As expected, the most terrifying thing in the apocalypse was still humanity. Weeks passed, and most people had completely run out of supplies. A group of people banded together to head out in search of food and supplies. However, they got into a bloody fight over a bottle of water. Meanwhile, another group of people gave in to their darker impulses and began robbing other households and killing people for supplies.

The world slowly returned to normal. But the heat-damaged soil would take decades, maybe centuries or even millennia to recover. Everyone had to keep wearing cooling suits just to survive. The shelter continued growing as people established a city around it. Three years after the apocalypse, individual nations had ceased to exist. All races now lived together as one. Dozens of representatives formed an organization called the Federation to lead us. There was no discrimination, only the mutual understanding of survivors who'd lived through hell together. Everyone worked together and had enough to eat. The problem was that most of Earth's plants and animals had mutated after the extreme heat.

She was trying to reach her, but her bas**** ex was holding her, keeping her from using water ability to save her. When the meteorites scattered across the globe, some people developed abilities almost the same time the undead appeared. The sky was bright red, explosions, screams in every direction. Chills crawl on her back, recalling what would happen a year from now. Her revenge for every suffering will be done slowly because preparing for the approaching apocalypse matters more. In the future, food and water will be scarce. Guns will be more valuable than gold and jades. There will be safe military and clan bases emerging but still needed some points from working and trading for food.

"The delegation leaves in three days. We'll return with either alliance terms or relocation plans." That night, Maya received a message from the unknown number. First contact in over a week. *You found others. Thousands survived. The government endures. Civilization continues. But Maya—it's not the civilization you tried to save. It's built on triage, on calculated worth, on ruthless efficiency. Every major shelter implemented similar protocols. The survivors are the ones who were willing to make the hard choices. Your compassion didn't survive the apocalypse. Catherine's pragmatism did. The question is: what will you do about it? Accept the world that emerged from the ashes? Or fight to mak

She had begun to turn into them. “No, no, I can't be one of them. No, I don't want to.” She cried, thinking back to before this apocalypse began. Back to when things were okay. Her family was still alive. Except they had died years back before the apocalypse even began. She was just a lonely girl, who met Ryan and fell in love. Barely conscious and close to turning, Ara dragged herself toward the toxic river near the edge of the city. The black water churned violently below, filled with chemical waste, rotting corpses, blood, and dangerous liquids dumped there after the apocalypse began.

After everything she had experienced in her previous life. After witnessing that terrible death and then being given a second chance... She understood the true nature of the apocalypse better than anyone around her. A heavy sigh escaped her lips. My base is thriving. She stared toward the distant walls surrounding Hope Base. The villa is thriving too. Images of smiling survivors flashed through her mind. Everyone is happy. For a brief moment, a smile appeared on her face. Then it faded. But nobody can afford to become complacent in the apocalypse. Her expression grew serious.