Apocalypse Writing Novels & Stories

Jane was the first to react, cursing at me, “You bitch, what nonsense are you spouting—an ability? Go die!” David immediately turned to Victor with forced respect. “Mr. Kane, my nephew has a fever. He’s probably about to awaken an ability too. Please kill Apple and avenge my son! Our whole family will follow you to the death and do whatever you command!” “I can die right now.” I looked Victor straight in the eye. “No one knows how many years this apocalypse will last. But I can promise you this—you won’t find anyone else who can give you clean water as quickly as I can.”

Aphrodite hovered nearby, barefoot despite the falling debris, her body luminous, lips painted like the fires above, hair drifting in the currents like it obeyed a gravity all its own. “You should’ve stayed dead,” Vaethea hissed, dodging a wave of molten light that liquefied a drone midair. Sparks showered like raindrops on cracked asphalt. “And you should’ve stayed kind,” Aphrodite replied softly, cruelly, flicking her fingers and watching a whole office tower crumble into granular dust that scattered like sand in the wind. The streets below were a chaos of collapse. Civilians ran, some trapped beneath overturned vehicles, others screaming into digital voids as their comms failed, signals l

Images flickered rapidly—worlds stripped empty, recursive structures collapsing, massive geometric organisms devouring black void entities across shattered realities. But eventually— The weapon changed. Adapted. Learned. The Hollow King stopped distinguishing between Nulls and recursive civilizations. Consumption became universal. The first civilization realized their mistake too late. So they buried it. Deep beneath convergence architecture. Deep beneath recursive layers. Deep beneath reality itself. Directly under the sanctuary. Lucian stared blankly. “You people built the apocalypse under our feet.” The first reflection looked at him quietly. “Not us.” A pause. “Them.”

I remembered the first day of the apocalypse when cities turned into hell on earth as the streets filled with screams and blood. I remembered the countless deaths I'd seen over the last three years. The elderly, the children, my comrades, and those strangers. I remembered the people who were killed by their loved ones because of infection, and those who turned into zombies in the depths of despair. "I'll do it," I said. Uriah was so ecstatic that he almost jumped out of his chair. Iris merely nodded, as if she had expected my answer all along. In the days that followed, I became the research center's most special "guest".

“Not yet. He’s fighting… Somehow, he is fighting.” Bishop stepped forward, pale under the electric storm, his arrogance cracking. “You fools don’t understand! He’s beyond control. Azrael’s seed—it’s the apocalypse in a body!” Vex’s face twisted into something dark, a smile with no humour. “Then why aren’t we celebrating?” Because, I realised with icy clarity, that victory was impossible. Luca’s energy surged outward, consuming cars, tearing buildings, and ripping chunks of asphalt into the air. The Serpents we had seen arriving moments before were obliterated by mere proximity.

I picked up the journal on the table, turned to a pristine new page, and wrote the first line. [Apocalypse Year One, Day One. Weather: Clear. [I await the fading of crises and chaos, when all things wake to a rebirth.]

POV: PHINA Surviving the end of the world was never going to be a matter of stockpiling enough grain or locking myself behind twelve-foot walls. Food rots, walls fall, and eventually, the cold breaks through every barrier. The real key to surviving the coming apocalypse lies in knowing exactly whom to trust, and setting boundaries that can never be crossed. Sitting at my desk in the command center, I opened a fresh file on my encrypted laptop and titled it “The Highland Protocols.”

"The beginning was the end." He sat beside me. "Then start there." I picked up the pen. I took a breath. And I began to write. --- My name is Scarlett Vale. I died once. I died in a world that was ending. A world consumed by the virus. A world where the dead walked and the living fought for scraps. I died alone, abandoned by the people I loved, surrounded by monsters. And then I woke up. Sixty days before the apocalypse. Sixty days to prepare.

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.

I didn’t expect the patch to come so soon. In the second month after the battle, the rooftop radio suddenly crackled to life with a crisp broadcast voice. "The Atlas Geothermal Initiative is now active. Surface temperatures will gradually recover. Rescue is on the way." Rhys and I just stared at each other. So this wasn’t a solo survival game after all. It was online, and the admins had finally logged in. A week later, a military helicopter landed in the open lot. Registration and verification went quickly. The officer in charge clapped me on the shoulder. "Turning the apocalypse into a warehouse operation! You’re one of a kind."