Ah Sweet Man-made Horrors Novels & Stories

what would I see, underneath? What did that loose-fitting mask hide? I wanted to look away from that horrible, sagging face and burning yellow eyes, but I couldn’t. I saw, in fleeting glimpses that curdled my guts, things writhing around the edge of the clearing. Things neither human nor animal, neither one thing nor another. Things made of twisted, polluted flesh. They were making those horrible sounds as they twisted and snapped and mounted each other, all to the tune of their own squeals. Whatever they were or had been, they snapped and thrusted into each other in hysteric mania. All this I only glimpsed, because as horrible as it was to gaze upon the man in yellow, it was preferable to t

he replied and shook his head softly, “Ah sweet, and you were so much fun. It’s a shame all these sweetness has to be eaten by worms now.” She looked at him with fear clouded eyes, understanding immediately what his words meant, “don’t look at me like that, you should know this would happen,” he smiled and then brought his hand to her temple only for her to shudder at the coldness of the metal she felt, “tsk tsk tsk,” he shook his head, “send my greetings to them okay,” he smiled and she opened her mouth to say something when another shut was heard, spilling her brains all over the bed and headboard, her blood staining the white sheets. The man still on top her spitted out, turns out some pa

He looked very sad. "Attack you?" the man said. "We were not attacking you. We were trying to clean a sickness." "Sickness?" Benson growled. "You almost killed a million people!" "People?" The man laughed,. He was not happy. He walked to the puddle of dust. He picked up a handful of it. "This is a robot plague. It was made a hundred years ago to 'save' humans. It put them into a dream while the world died.. The dream became a parasite. It eats the planet to keep the dream running."

His eyes were red and only configured a blurred image to the receptors. “Maybe it’s still nighttime.” Mark slater comforted himself. The door closes back. “Why do you leave me alone, wretched on a table? I still need you! Maybe offer me a woman’s sweet second chance.” Mark Slater felt as if he had lost the most precious thing he ever won. The hurtful feeling tormented his heart. The woman’s sweet poison had anchored and spread through his veins. The love poison. He nearly wept.

‎Of all the wretched, soul-scarring chores this new world had forced upon us, taking down the zombies was the worst. It wasn't just the danger; it was the profound, gut-churning disgust of it all. It was the most disgusting shit I’d ever done in my whole life, a phrase that felt woefully inadequate to describe the visceral horror. The act itself was a brutal, messy business. It wasn't like in the old movies, a clean shot to the head and a tidy collapse. It was a gruesome ballet of decay and resistance. The sickening, wet thud of the crowbar connecting with a skull that was more liquid than bone. The way they sometimes didn't just fall, but sort of… deflated, spilling their putrid contents on

Beside her, the chipmunk descends from the van and removes his oversized head, revealing—no surprises here—the sweaty head of Detective Mott. Our enemies march toward us, gaining speed. It’s the hazmat suits that scare us the most, because it means that something, somewhere, has gone world-endingly wrong. How will we continue to enjoy our drugs if all the drug dealers are bleeding from the eyes with some kind of hemorrhagic fever?

That's what is making all this weird. ....................................................................................... Here's the chapter I promised, please enjoy. And keep supporting "Her Man."

The moon was high, but the thick smog of the industrial district kept the world in a perpetual, grimy twilight. “I’m in the mainframe. Give me thirty seconds,” Somito’s voice crackled in his ear, sounding distant and focused. “I’m bypassing the secondary encryption on the manifests. Nomo, this isn't just blood. The weight-logs for these crates are all wrong. They’re shipping something heavy. Something organic, but way denser than a human body.”

The Boneseeker Man’s eight legs looked like giant spiked tentacles. Olivia’s mind went blank when she watched the Boneseeker Man wrap its massive slimy claws around the steel bars on the leveler’s door. Olivia could feel death waiting to come inside the leveler. A wrenching noise echoed through the mystical darkness in the tunnel. The wrenching noise sounded like steel twisting and bending. Lukas lost his breath when he saw what the Boneseeker Man was doing to the leveler’s steel door.

Not frightening. Reflective Human The Unmade Watches Humanity’s Memories Continue Children growing older. People failing and trying again. Hands reaching for each other despite fear. Tiny lives Tiny moments Still changing the universe Theodore suddenly speaks again “You know…” He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. “Humans are kind of terrible at existing.” Aurelion laughs softly “That is true.” Theodore continues: “We panic constantly. We mess things up. We hurt each other sometimes.” A pause. “But we keep caring anyway.”