Post Apocalyptic Seattle Novels & Stories

I don't sleep that night. Instead, I pack methodically, folding clothes with military precision, organizing toiletries, erasing any evidence that I was ever here. By three AM, my suitcase is packed, my hotel room is spotless, and I'm sitting by the window watching the city that was supposed to be my future. Seattle without Damien feels different now. Not magical or melancholy or full of possibility—just a city. Rain and coffee shops and strangers living their lives, completely unaware that mine just imploded.

“You burned them out of the sky, Weaver. You did it. They are gone. The sky is clear, Winnie. You can let go now.” ​I tried to sit up, but the world spun in a sickening orbit. The gravity of the earth felt like a physical chain, dragging my spirit back into the dirt. I looked past him, out toward the city. The Scrapyard was a graveyard of twisted, glowing metal. The great tripods were nothing more than slag heaps, cooling in the morning air. But as I looked further, I saw the lights. The residential sectors were still flickering. The people were emerging from the bunkers, their faces upturned to a sky that was no longer a cage. The city had survived the harvest, even if its soul had been sco

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.

On the way out, I might've accidentally shot Willa in the kneecap. Oops. Now they match. Real couple goals. In the end, every last one of those monsters got executed. Not a single one walked. Brentford Base neared completion under my watch. People rebuilt. Production came back. Three months in, the military cleared out the cities. Six months later, the vaccine hit everyone. By the one-year mark, the apocalypse was officially over. Humanity won. And the name Selene Sorrell— they'd never forget it.

" I'm just saying, I don't want to disturb anything, but the city is becoming chaos. I think it would be wise to leave before we are stuck in any barrier they put so they don't let us out. If the country intends to go to war, it will want to keep everyone inside their homes. In fact, around the police station, some barriers to control traffic had already been placed. Humanity was moving towards the end of those punishments. And I didn't know why I felt so heavy and sad. Maybe I already knew that the ending was not as pleasant as I imagined. "Do you think they can do that?" Asked Anne, shocked, turning to Zylah." Will they confine us and wait until they have enough answers to all the bizarren

The adrenaline from the docks still clung to my skin long after I returned to the penthouse. Even after locking the door behind me, I couldn’t shake the memory of the Stalker’s shriek echoing through the fog. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw those dead white eyes lunging toward me through the snow. The apocalypse had started early. Which meant every second mattered now. I crossed the dark penthouse slowly, the city lights of Oakhaven glowing beneath the floor-to-ceiling windows like a dying constellation. Somewhere below, people were laughing in rooftop bars, arguing in traffic, planning weddings and business meetings…

That was the ringtone for my alarm. I hurriedly grabbed my phone with shaky hands as I glanced at the date and I audibly gasped in shock. The date was staring right at me, unblinking and I had to rub my eyes to be sure I wasn't hallucinating. It was indeed June 19th, 2665. The apocalypse happened July 19th. One month from today. I refused to believe that this was real. There was no way that I woke up one month before the city of Sloradath was reduced to ruins. But I knew everything that happened was too real to be a dream.

Scott's reputation was on par with Milo's and Alex's. He was a truly remarkable leader. In Hayley's memories from her previous life, Scott had followed the same strategy. He pushed outward from the city center. In the early years of the apocalypse, his expansion was incredibly aggressive. Unfortunately, Tomorrow Base was wiped out in the fifth year of the apocalypse. When it fell, they still hadn't broken out of the city…because it really was that hard. Hayley had taken the approach of surrounding the city from the countryside. She had solid logistics backing every step forward. When things got too dangerous, she could pull back, hide for a while, and chew away at the problem slowly.

It tears through our digital forms, burning away the last vestiges of our identity. We are no longer code. We are the lightning. We are the scream. "It is done," Echo whispers, his voice fragmenting into static. "The cycle is broken." "No," I say, as the white light consumes me. "The cycle is complete." The screen fades to white. The Aftermath. The white fades. But it doesn't fade to black. It fades to grey. Rain. Rain lashing against a window. Seattle. 2024. A small, cluttered apartment. It smells of stale Thai food and loneliness. The light is dim, the streetlamps filtering through cheap blinds.

Several more coins tumbled from their pedestals, their musical chimes creating a discordant symphony. "The magical infrastructure is collapsing," Marcus said urgently, grabbing Sage's arm. "We need to evacuate." But Sage pulled free, kneeling again beside the pool. The water was churning now, the images fragmenting into pieces she could barely comprehend. Street signs in a language she didn't recognise. A distinctive skyline with towers that spiraled like dragon scales. A logo for a tech company that made her chest tighten with inexplicable recognition. "Seattle," she gasped as the pieces clicked together. "They're in Seattle."