Post Apocalypse Books Novels & Stories

Whilst all around them society descended into over-regulated conservatism (cinema, television, the Internet, and literature taking the hardest prohibitive hits—people had actually been fined for reading banned ‘supernatural’ books and comics featuring the undead, even those published well before the outbreak), religion had taken an unexpected backseat. Geraldine had been of the assumption that the apocalypse, which she’d always known would come on slow, would end up sending people flocking back to the church. Only no. Faith, itself, had been infected. Though in the end, at the pitiful, sad conclusion of it all, most people came around. Death made believers out of most. And that was her role

Every detail was accounted for, every system optimized for efficiency. In the afternoons, she focused on her mental health. She read books from the library, practicing her meditation and journaling about her experiences. She wrote about her past life, her death, and her rebirth. She wrote about Julian, Brenda, and Chloe—their betrayals, their cruelty, their ultimate downfall. She wrote about her plans for the future, the world she intended to build in the aftermath of the apocalypse. The journaling was cathartic, a way to process her emotions and maintain her sanity.

Aeron Miller was never special. When the System descended upon Earth and monsters brought civilization to its knees, he was nothing more than an ordinary survivor trying desperately to stay alive. For ten brutal years, Aeron watched humanity fall. Cities became ruins, friends became enemies, and powerful survivors fought over the few resources left. In the end, Aeron became one of the last humans alive—only to be betrayed and killed by the people he trusted. Then he opened his eyes. Seven days before the apocalypse. Seven days before the System awakens. Seven days before the world he knows disappears. Aeron has returned with everything he learned from his first life.

And then everything went dark. Present Day I’m lying down. Awake, but unwilling to move. I know I can’t stay in one place for long. Today’s refuge is an abandoned, water-damaged house, where the makeshift bed of cardboard and filthy pillows is at least dry. You’d think that a year after the apocalypse, people would have adapted. Nope. They just became worse. Men rule the world now. Most women were taken—by the demons of hell, as the survivors call them. The destroyers of our world.

Callen says slowly, “are we talking nervously, twitchy, or full-on 'I’m going to eat your brains' twitchy? Because I’ve had a long week, and I’m not surviving a zombie outbreak on top of this.” “Grow up, Callen. Zombies aren’t real,” I sigh. “Yeah, well, neither were wolf shifters a few short years ago for me, but here I am turning into one and co-running a whole damn pack of them. Meanwhile, my girlfriend literally glows and brings people back from the dead. So forgive me if I’m keeping the apocalypse on the table.” Leo shifts slightly beside me, his unease rolling through the air. “He’s got a point… do we even know if they’re still…” He hesitates, searching for the right word. “Them?”

She went through the list several times before settling on seeds and books. After years of work, the agricultural research institute had managed to preserve quite a few heirloom seed varieties, including rice, lettuce, carrots, potatoes, and other common vegetables. The yields weren't high, but in an apocalypse where natural disasters never stopped, those seeds were priceless and cost a fortune. Nicole only chose varieties she didn't already have. The same went for the books. She hadn't expected the authorities to collect books from survivors, sort them, then offer them for trade again.

Too happy to oblige, and I swiftly return to the Duke's office, standing in front of the bookshelf, trying to decide what book would show-off my 21st Century education. 18 My eyes fall on Homer's "The Odyssey." Perfect! I snatch the leather-bound book and return to the bedroom. Once inside, Bryce is sitting on a wooden seat with an empty stool beside him. He is sitting close to one of the burning candles on a floor stand. "What book had you chosen?" "'The Odyssey,' my lord," I tell him, trying to keep my voice neutral and bored. I do not want to give away my eagerness to prove my higher education. "Very well. Sit, and you may begin," Bryce states while studying me curiously. I can

Instead, he leaned back against a mahogany shelf, his casual sweater bunching at his shoulders. He looked at the stack of books on my desk, his eyes lingering on a tattered spine I had tucked at the bottom. "Wait, is that THE STAND?" he asked, pointing to the thick paperback. I looked down, my eyes landing on the book he was referring to. It was a survival horror story. Something about an alien invasion and humans getting wiped out one by one. "Oh. Yes. I’ve read it three times, but I find comfort in the end of the world sometimes. It makes my own feel... manageable."

The apocalypse did not start with zombies right away. That would have been too simple. First came the drought. The heat was brutal, day after day, pressing down on cities until roads cracked, crops burned, and people started fighting over bottled water in stores that had nothing left on the shelves. The electricity could not keep up. Power grids failed in waves, hospitals went dark, cooling systems died, and people who had spent their entire lives trusting walls and machines suddenly understood how thin civilization really was.

Fang There was blood dripping down my fingers. Hot, thick blood. It made a scorching line as it dripped across my hand and down my arm. Like acid. And just like acid, it burnt a mark on my soul. How many men had there been before the one before me? Honestly, I couldn’t remember. Too many over the years. Hell, there had been too many in the last few months. This was just the latest in a long line. A very long line.