Apocalypse Fiction Novels & Stories

Rowan's territory was indeed remote and desolate, but it was nothing like I'd imagined. Word had spread that Rowan and I were coming, because many beastmen crowded the roadside holding gifts they wanted to present to us. They all looked well-fed and healthy, their eyes bright. Even the little ones and elderly were plump and rosy-cheeked. Since the apocalypse began, all the clans had struggled to survive. Food was barely enough to get by, and many older beastmen had starved to death. Those who survived were skin and bones. However, everything was completely different here.

That was also why our security was the best in the whole city. I only found out in my last life that, after the world was hit by the deadly heatwave, a lot of desperate people showed up. In the apocalypse, humanity meant little. Everyone answered only to themselves. But our community was the only one that never got attacked by any looters, all thanks to the top-notch security forces here. It stayed safe until the scientists finally managed to build weather bombs strong enough to fight off the deadly heat, and the heatwave finally ended. Everyone in our community survived.

There’s nothing left but survival. I stared at the words, my mind spinning. The Burning. That’s what people called it now, the apocalyptic event that had scorched the earth and turned the world into a wasteland. But this person—this scientist—had known it was coming. They’d predicted it. And somehow, they’d ended up here, in this bunker, leaving behind their journal like a final warning. I looked up from the journal, my pulse quickening. This wasn’t just a storm shelter. This bunker had belonged to someone who had known about the end of the world before it happened. Someone who had tried—unsuccessfully—to stop it.

How alive do we need to defeat death? We were in desolation, desperation, depression and in dire need of aid, a panacea to overcome this societal affliction. The vultures were familiar with our surroundings, preying and feeding on those corpse lying on the street. People who could not even attain the status of being buried but just left as ashes to decay on the path. Our crops had died, our fishes were gone, our money had no value… some people had turned cannibals, hunting for any flesh just to stay alive. Most of us had given up, this was the apocalypse which had been predicted thousands of years ago.

The revelation unfurled like a dark tapestry, weaving a tale of malevolence and perversion, casting a pall of dread upon the fateful convergence of the fallen angels, and heralding the impending clash of darkness and divine will that would come to define the fate of worlds. Asmo's mind reeled with the stark realization of the impending calamity, the weight of the world's impending doom pressing heavily upon him. "I can't believe this," he muttered, his voice laced with disbelief and revulsion. "This year is going to be a nightmare for the world."

Angelo raises his hands before the male teacher finish what he said, so hepless, he pointed at where Angelo is and instructed for the boy to stand up to answer the question. “The classic elements of a science fiction novel include: Time travel. Teleportation. Mind control, telepathy, and telekinesis, Aliens, extraterrestrial lifeforms, and mutants. Space travel and exploration. Interplanetary warfare. Parallel universes. Fictional worlds. That’s all” Angelo said his answer and didn't wait for the male teacher to give him permission to sit as he already sat down back again to his seat, the smell of gun powder a while ago that disappeared once again resurfaced on the air as Demetria looked at

I began to read and to train my body. Immersed in the ocean of knowledge, my heart grew fuller and calmer than it had ever been. A strong, healthy body was the greatest asset for enduring this long apocalypse. Occasionally, I would access the global surveillance network to glimpse the world being scorched by heatwaves. The traces of civilization were being erased at breathtaking speed. Skyscrapers grew brittle and collapsed under the relentless heat. Forests turned to scorched earth. The oceans evaporated, revealing jagged seabeds and countless skeletal remains of once-living creatures.

… Through Leo's and my persistent efforts in leading the team to search high and low within the former forests for clues, we finally managed to find the main source of the water contamination. A massive meteorite had fallen on Earth and was now sitting on the peak of a mountain, transmitting its destructive radiation down through the roots of the trees and contaminating all nearby water sources on Earth. The apocalypse had happened because of this meteorite. Octoria, one of the major countries, had launched missiles at it, intending to shatter the meteorite before it entered the Earth's stratosphere. However, they hadn't known then that the meteorite would turn out to be so hard and dense.

"The readers have moved on. The billionaire trope is tired. Even your regret has become a predictable loop. I'm not being cruel; I'm being efficient. I'm clearing the cache for the next project." The Anatomy of the Final Deletion The "Grey Fog" was the physical manifestation of Authorial Apathy. It didn't destroy; it simply made things "Irrelevant." As the fog rolled in, the Mid-Zone didn't explode. It simply became Generic. The complex techno-organic vines became simple green lines. The unique faces of the refugees became blank masks. The "Prince of the Trash" armor on Elian began to flicker into a standard, low-poly tunic.

she convinced herself. “I don't need you" she muttered. The system disappeared. She looked at her calander... Still three years before the apocalypse. She circle the date. She brought out a note book, “I need to get everything under my control" She jotted down, when the apocalypse came, the date zombie appeared, the first building she that collapsed the safe house, the location where supplies her hidden, the place she went to get the crystal. She looked at the paper, a smile escape her lips.