Fantasial Apocalypse Novels & Stories

It was a world away from the raw desire and affection he showed Athena. This was the man I had loved for years. “Alright. Whatever you say.” I pretended to be compliant, but inwardly, I felt nothing but disgust. The frozen apocalypse would begin in two days, and they would get exactly what they deserved. Soon enough, the apocalypse began. At first, the temperature dropped to 14 °F. At first, no one paid it any mind. They thought it was just an unusually cold winter that year. But when the temperature fell to –4 °F, people finally began to realize something was wrong.

Sapphire went stiff in my arms as her eyes flicked to the door. I didn’t let go. Rather, I leaned in again, slower this time, brushing my mouth over hers one last time like a threat. “Go ahead,” I whispered. “Scream now, stepmother. Let them hear how much you want your fucking stepson.”

“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.

Unbearable, bone-crushing pain tore through every inch of Cyrus Knovell's body. It was no illusion. It was real. Too real. He lay sprawled on the ground, beaten by the very friends and neighbors he had once trusted and helped. Their fists, their boots, even their sticks struck him with ruthless force. In this apocalypse, where food and water meant survival, kindness no longer mattered. They cared only about tearing him apart. Through the haze, Cyrus spotted a familiar figure at the edge of the mob. It was Diana Feynor, the woman he had once worshipped as a goddess.

A desperate, terrible option. Because in twelve days, the apocalypse would begin. The temperature would drop to negative forty degrees. Power would fail. And in the chaos of a frozen world, people disappeared every day. Including hired killers. Including the Hart family. Maya picked up her phone with trembling hands and opened her notes app. She began typing, planning, calculating. If she couldn't beat them before the freeze, she would survive it. And in the aftermath, when civilization had crumbled and the old rules no longer applied, she would make every single person who had hurt her pay.

Behind her, Below-Prayer opened wider. Divine names peeled from the little shrines under the freeway and flew into its mouth like moths. The Well Spirit shrieked. The Stove God cursed in three dialects. The system gave me an option so bright it hurt to see. [Total seizure authorized under wartime necessity.] [Targets: all dead contracts, Daniel Hart, minor gods in collapse radius.] [Projected result: Underworld Court rank increase.]

The familiar scent of Damian’s cologne drifted through the room, turning her stomach. Three months. That was all Evelyn had. Maybe less. If the timeline changed, her chest tightened sharply at the thought. In her first life, the early reports were slow to start. Violent assaults.Animalistic behavior.Quarantine rumors online. Then came the first videos. Then the panic buying. Then the blackouts. Then people started eating each other in the streets. Evelyn grabbed her laptop from the desk near the window and opened it with shaking hands. “What are you doing?” Damian asked.

And somehow, that version of him affected her the most. Aaron looked over the crowd of excited children and found her standing there, frozen, watching everything with emotions she wasn’t fully prepared to feel. Their eyes met across the noise and movement. His smile softened. The chaos seemed to fade into the background for a moment. And for the first time since the apocalypse began, Natasha allowed herself to imagine something she had never dared to dream about before. A real future. Not just survival. Not war or endless missions. A future. And standing right in the middle of it was Aaron Ross.

Once that happened, it became hell on Earth! I had died too early in my last lifetime, and I had no idea when the heat apocalypse would end. I even wondered if I had hoarded enough provisions. To be honest, I had no idea what my future would hold. That was when I suddenly remembered something, and I quickly exited the cave despite the overbearing heat. I could see the college from where I was, and I suddenly found the motivation to continue with life. I took out my phone right away to access the security surveillance app, and every camera's footage appeared on my phone. It was easy to hack into it because they used a basic password. With the surveillance, I could watch them turn on each othe

Handwriting from twelve years ago — the strokes heavier than they were now, the flourishes drawn wide and loose, like someone who wasn't afraid of wasting paper. I turned to page twelve. A layout diagram of the bunker. Seven bunks, one incubation unit, the storeroom at the end of the hallway, the concrete-sealed door nearly two feet thick. In the bottom right corner of the diagram, a note in my own handwriting: "The apocalypse has to feel real. Push the heat up, make the water filthy — let the audience practically smell it. Rotate the insiders every season, keep one genuinely unwitting participant — protects the ratings." After "genuinely unwitting," there was a note in parentheses. Just one