I need to be extremely clear to you that this is real. There is nothing fabricated in what I am about to tell you. There are what I can only describe as zombies out there, making their way to you right now. A few nights ago I saw a news story on my phone. I opened google to search for something, and underneath the searchbar there were the usual news articles I expect to see. But one of them mentioned something about a violent rabies outbreak nearby. The picture underneath showed a low quality image of a person being handled by police or doctors into what looked to be a truck. It looked to me like a screenshot from a…

It started suddenly. Autumn was coming to an end, the weather was rapidly deteriorating. Busy streets turned into canals filled with icy water and debris. Thin streams ran along the dirty walls and mixed with the long-term patina of rust. An atmosphere of decay, a thick, viscous feeling. It started early in the morning. A piercing sound fell on the sleepers, awakening them from a fragile, painful sleep. Steel, glass, concrete chips, crunch of bones. This lasted about a minute. The insides, turned inside out, tried to gather back into a heap, previously called a man. The eyelids refused to open, in an attempt to save the already shocked mind. Bright. The harsh light hit my eyes and forced me…

Nobody remembers when they appeared, some think they have been here since the beginning of time and space, or at least since the first human existed, others think they came into existence more recently. I personally don’t care where they come from, or how they got here, I only really care about keeping myself alive. The copycats, that’s what we call them. Most of the time they look almost human, trying to copy the appearances of their last victims. I say almost, because they often appear as tall as the streetlights, or have big bulging eyes and smiles with too many teeth. Some of them can speak too, sort of as a way to lure us out. In reality, most…

Chapter 1: Lost and Found In the murky confines of the Slums, a stray cat and its drone companion, B-12, scuttled along the endless expanse of labyrinthine alleys, the drone’s light casting an eerie glow on the moss-ridden walls and dilapidated machinery. The cat, a feline anomaly in this mechanical world, surveyed their surroundings with gleaming eyes, ears perked to the distant hum of rusted gears and sputtering engines. B-12, his thrusters operating on silent, ensured they remained undetected by the wandering robotic populace. Chapter 1: Lost and Found Their explorations led them to a pitiful sight. Half-buried under rubble, a Companion Robot, Vexa, lay immobilized, her metallic legs crushed under the weight of fallen debris. She pleaded for aid,…

1. Who’ll Stop the Rain? Ryan had taken brief notice of the family of five that entered the mostly empty diner. This was his favorite place to go when reviewing business cases because it was quiet, usually empty between noon and late evening, and famous for their strawberry rhubarb pies. He’d done his best work here, and had come to the diner to study over a very lucrative business case. The three young girls, the oldest not a day over nine, had concerned him as he observed them taking their seats. However, the children were very well behaved, and had remained no louder than the other murmurs coming from the other two diners. Soon he’d forgotten entirely about any of…

We humans pride ourselves on being social creatures of moral thought. We thoroughly believe that we are superior compared to every other animal on the planet because we are able to perform action only based on morals. Charitable donations, helping the environment around us and simple acts of kindness present a portrait that we concern ourselves with the existence of others. And with that, we think ourselves better than creatures. But we’re not superior. The Un-rapture proved that. Expanding from what I’ve already said: we, as humans, only see the kindness others give on the outside. Whereas on the inside, they could harbour unspeakable thoughts and ideas that would no sooner make any normal person be sick to their stomach.…

Thursday morning. I awoke to the sounds of a siren blaring down the road. Great, another accident. The traffic was the last thing I wanted in the morning while going to work. Still, I had another hour before heading off, so I started my morning routine of taking a shower and brushing my teeth before heading downstairs for breakfast where I saw my son, Michael, eating cereal before breakfast. I grabbed a bagel and sat down on the couch, grabbing my iPad to read the news. “Terrorist leader Aamir Hadi has threatened the President!” The same old news… Nothing was “new” about it. All this drama for years between the Middle East and good old America. How long had we…

I don’t know what’s worse, the screams that ended a few weeks ago, or the silence that has fallen since then. Before, I felt like everything should be done to help others. Now, in my self-reflection, I don’t know anymore. It was like any other day in the city. Sunny, crowded, and busy. I was walking to work at a large national bank, where I recently began an internship. I remember the day well because, besides the obvious fact that the world ended on this day, I had finally convinced myself to talk to the cute secretary across the hall from me. Things just seemed to be going my way that day. I walked to work every day, and the…

She stalked the dark hallways of the school, making sure that she made no unnecessary sounds that would attract anyone. She had been following her Math teacher for a few minutes now and was positive that she had seen him wander into the school building. She checked her watch- she had about an hour to the curfew. The school was deserted, as it had been for the last summer month. She was being extra cautious-she didn’t want anyone seeing her follow her teacher into the school. That could only bring trouble. She followed her teacher into the dark hallways. Her teacher seemed to be wandering aimlessly, oblivious to his follower. She waited for him to move into someplace quieter so…

Wipe your feet when you come inside. Cliché. Old school. Who does that anyways? Well, the shit your grandmother tells you isn’t always bad advice. Quite the contrary really. I’m about to tell you a story you won’t believe. A story that will never leave me. A story about what exactly happens when you don’t WIPE. YOUR. FEET. And please, whoever finds this, heed my advice. Read the story. It’s too late for me… It was a cold and wet Sunday afternoon; the sky was grey with post-storm clouds. I had just gotten off work at the town grocery store and was walking home. The roads were horrible. Mud lined the streets, caking on to my shoes and soaking through…