#apocalypse

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.

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…

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.

Log of Captain Kyle Wright June 15, 2012 Off the island of Banaba, Kiribati, South Pacific

I ran straight to the super market when I heard about the nuclear strike. The government said that a deadly disease was spreading were I lived, and that the were going to eliminate anyone who had it. When I got to the store, I saw that almost all of the canned foods were gone, infact, almost everything was gone. I grabbed all of the cans I could carry, ran outside to my car, and realized it was not enough to keep me alive in my bomb shelter.

In June 1972, a woman appeared in Cedar Senai hospital in Los Angeles, California in nothing but a white, blood-covered gown. Now this, in itself, should not be too surprising as people often have accidents nearby and come to the nearest hospital for medical attention, but there were two things that caused people who saw her to vomit and flee in terror. The first being that she wasn't exactly human. she resembled something close to a mannequin, but had the dexterity and fluidity of a normal…

“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!”

Returning from an international gaming convention, I couldn’t wait to put my pictures on Facebook. Half the fun of being adventurous is bragging about the awesome things that you had a chance to see and do. And if you can find kooky games that never got released in America you can inspire a little bit more jealousy in your friends with each bizarre gem found. As I was preparing to upload the photos I noticed Shaun, an old friend of mine, in chat. I hadn’t spoken to him in a while so I threw out…

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.

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…

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…

Around me are the sounds of panic and horror. Gunshots fill the once silence air and people in white lab coats are screaming and running past my room. I know they are because I can see them through the reflective wall that shows my own reflection. How is this possible you might ask? Well, I was once the hope for humanity. This is how it began. I was thirteen and still had some sort of life stitched together if you could call it that. My father was nonexistent and my mother trying to form a…

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…

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…

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.

I’m breaking every single one of my rules for survival doing this and yet I know if I don’t I’ll die of hunger in a few weeks or worse they’ll find me when I’m sleeping and carry me off to where they dwell nestled in the tunnels beneath the city. I stare into the abyssal depths below me, nothing to make out but the now motionless escalator stairs, poking their way out of the blackness. I take one last deep breath savour the clean crisp February air and make my way down to find Nate. Nate’s the…

Call me a misanthrope, an introvert, whatever. The fact is, I always thought I preferred being alone. I had a couple of friends. Well, mainly acquaintances. People I worked with. People I lived near. Family.

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.

For all readers…

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…