Post-apocalyptic Fantasy Novels & Stories

But after years of repeated pregnancies, my body was weak and fragile. He easily grabbed my neck and slowly crushed my windpipe. He told me that the daughter who had been sent away had already died of illness long ago. Everything went black before my eyes, and I violently coughed up blood and died. After my death, he threw my and my daughter's corpses into the wilderness to be devoured by hungry wolves. He then ceremoniously married Briar, who was five months pregnant. Damien was focused on getting sons to inherit the throne, but I learned that I had awakened the Creator Goddess bloodline after my death, and my daughters would have inherited ancient power to end this apocalypse.

"Then tell me, what should I do?" Zoey puffed her cheeks. "I have no idea." Cyrus’ eyes grew distant. "Then we take our time. We wait. Time favors us, and the advantage sits with me." For now, only one scenario troubled him: the slim chance that the other 29 buildings would unite. In this apocalyptic world, everyone schemed against everyone. Within a single housing complex, 30 buildings had already formed completely different micro-civilizations. Cyrus’ #25 and groups like the Titan Gang or the Mad Wolves ruled through brute force and killing. Lyla relied on brainwashing. Brandon enforced strict order to create a peaceful, conflict-free micro-society.

"You mean the readers aren't finished with us. They want more drama. More blood. More 'Davis' tragedy." ​"They want a Legacy," the girl corrected, pointing her flute toward the horizon. ​Beyond the hill, the "Reality 2.0" city began to change. The buildings didn't turn back into grey blocks, but they began to grow Gothic Spires. The sun didn't set; it turned a deep, blood-red, and a second moon—shattered and glowing—appeared in the sky. ​[GENRE SHIFT: DARK FANTASY REBIRTH.] [OBJECTIVE: PROTECT THE ORIGINALS.]

Nor had she ever seen such an eclectic collection of oddities. She picked up a pair of boots, vinyl, with a huge, plastic zipper. A vague memory of a porn film she had accidentally flipped on one late night flashed through her mind. Dominatrix, she believed it was called. She dropped the boots and sank onto a little bench sitting against the wall across from the racks of costumes. Fantasies. She had never had a sexual fantasy. All her sexual thoughts had always centered on Steve and their quiet sex life. All she had ever wanted was his hands on her, his lips telling her the things she wanted to hear.

"Go get some rest. Tomorrow, I'll take you out for a spin—you've been cooped up long enough." Ray ruffled the dog's head. The fur felt soft under his hand, and he couldn't resist giving it a few extra pets. A night passed. The post-apocalyptic world had reached day 80. Ray stayed home all day. After last night's premature scouting, he decided to lay low for a few days. At home, only three women remained mid-evolution, so he figured it was best to wait until they were done.

Prologue: The Catastrophes of War. Third Person's Point of View. Blood could be foreseen everywhere. The shout was echoing as if it was the normal voice tweet of birds. Two swords colliding and develop a sound of blacksmith's enhancing weapon. All creatures are dying by the catastrophes of wars. One before dying wishing to be spared, while the other one before vanishing, wishing that someone will end this war. Warlocks, Wizards, Deity, Dryads, Elf, Werewolves, Faeries, and Harpies executing oneself's race.

She spent the next few days at home. … Gwyneth went out to take the trash one evening, unaware that a man was hiding behind the bin. After tossing it out, she turned around, and the man sprayed something behind her. Her body went weak, and she passed out. When she woke up, she found herself tied up on a rooftop. The biting wind cut right through her. Liana sat across from her, legs crossed, watching her with an eerie, menacing stare. She had lost a lot of weight since her imprisonment, and her eyes carried the weight of everything she'd endured.

It didn’t call. It simply waited. Sky’s heart hammered. She couldn’t explain why, but every cell in her recognized it: Someone who had once been hers. But before she could step closer, the world jolted. Light smeared. The ground beneath them fractured. And from the dark rose a low, hate-heavy rumble. “Contact!” Jennifer shouted, drawing her weapon. Creatures erupted from nothing. But these weren’t like before. Not amorphous, faceless distortions— these were nightmares given shape: warriors, mages, beasts, all twisted copies of an old world.

Two days before her 18th birthday, a solar eclipse occurred and according to the elders of the wizarding council, either it was a good omen and the world would continue to develop and flourish, or great changes would occur and unfortunately they would bring no good. That day she was at school when the solar eclipse occurred and everyone was allowed to go and watch it as long as they wore special glasses to protect their eyes. And as the eclipse was happening, the boy next to her, who was a real pain in the ass, took her glasses off and she felt her mother's seal break and she had then the most fragmented, apocalyptic visions she had ever had. She saw battle scenes, dragons, phoenixes, giant

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."