#apocalypse

“Oh look baby, the price of gas is a whole dollar cheaper at that gas station! Pull in and top off.” “Awe bay, it’s packed over there. It’s gonna take twenty minutes to just to get to the pump.” “So what? The money we save right now pays for your lunch tomorrow. Don’t be so lazy!”

8.14.15 11:37 AM “Charlie, I’m detective Schultz. Do you know why you’re here today, son?” The detective gestured towards the unkempt sixteen year old boy, dressed in a loose blue sweatshirt adorning several holes and baggy jeans, his shaggy hair covering his forehead. The boy looked as if he hadn’t bathed in at least a week and the odor all but confirmed it. “Do you have any idea why I brought you in today,” the detective asked again.

Today is Tuesday, May 20, 2014 and I am real. At least I think I am. Since 7th grade I have been different than anyone else on the planet. I have something with no name. Something that makes me question the very existence of everything around me. I call it "in somnium ambulat". In Latin it meant "The Dream Walk" and that doesn't even start to cover it. Occasionally, when I dream, I fall asleep. When I wake up I can't tell if it's real life or still a dream. I can live for months at a time in my…

Kevin awoke and there was no music from his alarm clock radio, only dead air. Lucky for him, the blaring of a car alarm from the street below was loud enough to wake him. He lurched out of bed aware he was running late and hurried into the bathroom. He turned on the shower and was about to step in, when he heard the noise of a cart being pushed across the floor of his apartment floor. With the shower still running and some water dripping onto the bathroom floor, he slowly creaked out of the…

What if everything we thought we knew about angels and demons wasn't quite true? What if they weren't the timeless, immortal beings we had spent entire ages of human history thinking they were? This news would surely prove Earth-shattering in a far too literal sense as we find out on that fateful day. Hell may or may not lie in the physical world, but the shockwaves felt were on a very real scale when it all broke loose. That day started like any other; day traders hit the stock market en…

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…

Hello, Mother, I feel like tonight may be my last in these trenches, for better or worse. Last night the enemy pushed us back to the perimeter of the town we’ve been defending for the past three months. Unfortunately, I’m not sure how much longer we can hold out for. Reinforcements and supplies are two to three days out, I have two insta-chow syringes left and three and a half magazines to hold me through the next few nights. We have about two more hours of sunlight left. I’ll be sure to give…

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.

I stand in a dark room. It is very large and I can barely see the black outlines of the walls. Around me are golden cages which hang from the ceiling by long chains. Peering into them, I see the most peculiar objects; much like the strange ornate cages, gold glints through many of the bars. There are crowns, golden bars, sceptres with emeralds and other gems embedded in their hilts, golden necklaces and lockets amongst other things. One has bronze weighing scales. Other cages have bones in…

There was a new payphone in town, at least if you believe what some anonymous conspiracy theorist had posted on the internet. Someone on the local paranormal forum had posted photos of a payphone which, to be fair, was in fairly decent condition, and they had insisted it had been installed recently. More likely than not, it had been there for decades, and neither the poster nor anyone else had noticed it until recently. I’m pretty sure the only people who pay those things any mind anymore are…

In the late 18th century in upstate New York a pastor and his family; his wife, young daughter, maid and himself were all found dead inside their home. Cause of death was identified as quadruple suicide.

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.

Deep in the core of a dull, lightless city, a man sat alone by a fire. He didn’t know how long the world had been like this, he didn’t remember what it was like before, He only knew that he woke up to this one day. From what he could remember, Just faintly in the back of his mind, the world used to be filled with other people, other faces, but after days of wandering, months of searching, there was no familiar face to see. For now, the only company he had was the fire, and a few cans of beans…

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.

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.

My name is Victor. I am a resident of a quiet village near which there was a forest, there were many stories and myths about it.

For all readers…

I put on my running shoes with springs, designed to cushion the impact on the ground. It was my nightly ritual, something I did every single day without fail: running to the neighboring town, keeping my body busy and my mind free of thoughts. It was almost five o’clock, and the sun still stubbornly lingered in the sky, painting everything with a pale golden light.

I've always hated my job for one simple, yet insurmountable reason: nothing ever happens. Imagine spending nine hours. NINE freaking hours. Locked inside a concrete bunker, listening to the universe breathe into your head through an oversized pair of headphones. The higher-ups like to pretend this is some kind of essential service. That my job is somehow paramount to the advancement of the human race. It isn't.

The shining bright light of a VTOL passing by illuminates his apartment for just an instant through his shutters, the pitter-patter of the downpouring rain thankfully drowning out the deafening hum of its rotors. Still, the LED lights casting a bright blue hue throughout his entire home stir him awake, despite his best wishes not to be.