Night On Earth Narrator Novels & Stories

Julian wipes black ichor from his mouth—smile satisfied. **Julian:** “One queen down. Eleven nests remain. The night is still young.” Remy laughs—wild, relieved. **Remy:** “Who’s next on the menu?” I look up—swarm shadows still dark across the sky, but thinner now. Sirens wail distant—human survivors emerging. News drones hover—broadcasting the victory live. The world watches. **Celeste (voice carrying, crown blazing):** “New York stands. Earth fights back.”

The red lights flickered once and then died, leaving me in the gray twilight of the morning. ​In the distance, I heard a roar. It was not the roar of a machine or the roar of a wolf. It was something wet, something heavy, and something very, very hungry. It was the sound of the earth opening its mouth. ​I looked at my bandaged hands. They were shaking. I needed to find Silas. We had fixed the sky, but it seemed the earth was about to demand its pound of flesh, and we were the only ones left to pay the debt.

She referred to me as 'child', and I sat in the middle of the room, half-naked with my breasts spilling over the top of my satin nightdress. “It’s either I am dead, or I am dreaming, because I don’t know who you are and where I am,” I said and she shook her head smiling. “You are in Nioz, a planet in a different realm than the one you’re from, Earth, I believe it is called,” she explained, and that had me convinced she was crazy. I laughed and clapped my hands. “Did Frank break into my apartment and take me into an asylum because I was seeing black butterflies?” I asked the woman.

No city, no mountain, nothing! I saw the grass dancing with the wind and shined by the moonlight. It was a bright night. I turned my face to the sky and the stars glowed like glitters. No clouds. I never saw this kind of night. It felt so warm and so nice. Is it paradise? Am I dead already? Of course, I'm dead, it's not earth. It felt different. "Autumn. My strong and beautiful wolf." A sweet voice cracked the quiet night and I looked around. I can't find anyone. I'm alone. Who is that?

It was the other one who called me Marcus earlier. “My room?” I asked, surprised. He showed the others back up the stairs and gestured for me to follow him, not bothering to answer the question I had asked. The other one just scoffed and started up the stairs ahead of us, leaving me hesitating at the bottom, wondering why I was even considering this. After a moment of hesitation, I told myself that I needed some of this world’s technology, and I really didn’t want to see one of those creatures again. They said something about a curfew, so people of this world must not be able to go out after dark. Though, if you ask me, with no sun, it's kind of hard to tell when is night and day.

From the sea. From a house that had forgotten how hope sounds. He didn't tell everything. Not the worst parts. Not the nights full of fear. Not the loneliness. Children didn't need nightmares. But they knew the truth. So he told me about courage. Second chances. People who stayed. A father named Noah Carter who never stopped watching. And from a family that found each other. When he was done, it was dark outside. There were only red coals in the fireplace. The grandchildren were sitting quietly.

“Make the right choices.” “What?” “Everybody will die. The world will burn. You will never be Luna.” “What… I don’t…” I shook my head. “What is this place? Who are you?” “Do not trust them.” “Who?” “You are nobody’s Luna.” Before I could bombard her with questions, everywhere went dark. The next time I opened my eyes, Conrad was in bed with me. His arms were wrapped around my waist as he smiled at me. “How are you feeling?” “Conrad—”

' Eartha rolled her eyes and started to tie her hair up. 'While you take your bath, I think I'd call Mama to inform us of our visit. And then Femi and other people.' 'Sounds great,' Eartha said, slipping on the bathrobe. 'And the company, too.' She closed the ensuite door. All that reminded the sky of the retired sun was the faint, dusky glow of the twilight. It was at this time that the villagers trudged back home from their daily jobs and some started out for their nightly ones.

I drink the tea, feeling the warmth travel down my chest and spread through my body. The clock reads 4:15 when my eyes start to grow heavy again. It’s not the abrupt, uncontrolled plunge from before — it’s a gradual descent, built on a foundation of familiar voices and familiar touches. “You can sleep,” Elias murmurs. “We’re here.” “And if the nightmare comes back?” “Then we wake up again,” Zion says, with a simplicity that makes the promise more solid. “And we do this as many times as needed. Every night, if necessary.”

I'm quiet because I actually feel guilty about all of this, I feel like I would have been able to do something. “No, that's not it, mom. I'm not scared of the news, and I will not get any nightmares,” I say and mom smiles. “Goodnight honey!” mom says and I wave, “Goodnight mom,” I say. She flips my light switch off and darkness floods the entire room. I turn off my phone and now I'm in absolute darkness, the kind of darkness where I can't even tell whether I'm lying or standing. After a few seconds of counting sheep, I fade. into my subconscious, gradually.