Dystopian Novels & Stories

“Now tell me how this all relates to your books on Kalti. “Like I said at the reading, I'm a regular guy, an ordinary guy. must have murder and chaos to make me happy. In the wide smile he gave me, I caught a glimpse of what he must have been like as a kid. A little adventurous. And this adventurous brat lived in Kalti. Damien could be an adult with a successful career and letting that boyish side of you come out to play in your writing. "So my books are heavy on plot," he continued, "but there's also the character development. Kalti is an intriguing and complex guy. a bit like a lost soul, a guy from the underworld, a bad boy. Women are fascinated by this type. - And even? I smiled a yes at

Now. Locations shifted like moods: Victor’s lake house for long nights of slow, drawn-out torment; Damien’s secluded cabin in the pines where no one could hear her scream; Reid’s sleek downtown penthouse with its mirrored walls that let her watch every angle of her own ruin. And the quick, dangerous ones—Victor’s black truck parked in the shadowed lot behind the construction office after a “late meeting,” her bent over the console while the three of them took turns in the cramped space, windows fogged, her father’s building just across the lot.

I can see the coldness In his eyes" "His eyes are always cold, silly" They gossiped as they walked towards the food section. Pheona stared into space, playing with the fork in her hand. "You will be mine, Damien" She mumbled to herself, her eyes holding a malicious intent

Daniel walked for hours around the city. He was determined to go anywhere other than back to the Bostonian. He had so many things running through his head. His father sends Wyatt to see if he can be saved and stop the war that both sides have been waiting for. Elizabeth and him having a son and he’s eleven, and his life's in the same danger as Elizabeths. Daniel just wanted to walk away from all of this. How he wished that it had been Wyatt that was Forsaken instead of him. He felt everything way too much to be cut out for this job. These twelve years of soul collecting. So many souls collected for a war that might never happen. So many people sacrificed for what.

The world after The Burning was quiet. Too quiet. No more cars rumbling down streets, no more planes humming overhead. No more constant hum of humanity. Just ash and silence. I moved through the ruins of a small town, my feet crunching over broken glass and charred debris. The once vibrant town was now just a skeleton, its buildings blackened and hollowed out, like they’d been picked clean by vultures. The air was thick with the smell of burnt wood and decay, and every breath tasted like dust.

At night, they would sneak unto their neighbors and steal their food; and at light, they would kill the man who gets the most ration from their hard work in the Upper Castles. My mother would say, that the plague was sent by Mother Nature, that people became too happy and took things for granted, so She gave them a lesson— one too ruthless and too dark that even history cannot forget if it wanted to. Maybe She thought it would make the Old World a little bit kinder and a little bit better. But She was wrong. For the new one is even crueler now. My name is Elizabeth Hale. Welcome to the New World.

“You’re welcome, but for what?” “Everything.” That, along with the deeper kiss he pressed to her lips, was answer enough. ****** Author’s Notes I love futuristic, post-apocalyptic, and/or dystopian fiction. I wouldn’t want to live it, of course, but it’s fun to imagine how bad things could get, and how good people would function in the aftermath. In this book, I also explored a bit how harsh times make even good people do some questionable things. Can you forgive a good character if he (or she) does something morally ambiguous for the ones they love? I like complex characters and questions like that. I hope I gave a modicum of competency to exploring the idea.

Ashers replied “ they will stop once we do what we have to do to make the prophecy come true and send these foul creatures back from where they came, remember these are not just nightmares but they are visions of what is actually happening out there” “ I don’t want to see these anymore, seeing these innocent people just walking home from work, or on their way to meet up with their friends and then getting ripped apart and not being able to do a thing to help them and stop it from happening, and I get to just wake up and leave the situation while they have just meer moments to live, having to see the look of fear on their faces and seeing the realisation on their face when they realise that t

"And what’s that, exactly?" Damien’s gaze was steady. "The future of humanity." Silence. Ayesha’s grip on her gun tightened. "You mean soldiers." Damien shook his head. "More than soldiers. Leaders. Enforcers. The next generation of the world. Faster, stronger, smarter… and most importantly?" He exhaled. "Completely obedient." Zayn muttered a curse under his breath. "That’s some dystopian nightmare sh*t." Damien gave a humorless chuckle. "Yeah. But it’s real."

They were cold, brutal, assertively calm, contained no fear or doubt, and carried a sense of bleakness. The second difference was that dystopian Kylie’s body had been marred by a life filled with war and strife. She wore a sleeveless shirt that revealed scarred arms and a pair of shorts which revealed a scar on her left calf. Finally, there was a long scar that spanned her left brow all the way down to her left cheek. Kylie had a fantastic memory. While a few of those scars were there when she saw this version of herself for the first time in her dream, a few more scars had been added to her. Yes, at the time her dystopian self