Post Apocalyptic Seattle Novels & Stories

“Dear, I’m begging you… Just let me in! I’ll be whatever you want me to be! I’ll do anything you ask! I gave him a dismissive smile, turned around, and closed the door. James continued to pound frantically on the door from outside. I did not feel any sympathy for him. Instead, I picked up a novel and began reading. James shouted until midnight. His voice was hoarse, and he collapsed. I never opened the door again. Two years later, the frozen apocalypse finally ended, and I finally opened my door. As soon as I stepped outside, the stench of blood and decay hit me. They were all dead. Their bodies were mangled, torn apart, and devoured by others. I immediately contacted the police. The frozen

Leon added, shadows briefly darkening his eyes as he accessed memories of similar facilities he'd observed over centuries. The group moved through Seattle's darkened streets with preternatural grace, their enhanced senses mapping potential threats before they materialised. Around them, the city was in controlled chaos, emergency services responding to the Order's failed containment protocols, media vans establishing positions to document the unprecedented events, civilians recording everything on phones that would ensure the truth could never again be buried. Through the global network, Maya maintained contact with the nineteen dragons protecting the city, their resonances steady and determi

Aella My escape from the pack feels like a dream, a vivid haze of adrenaline and fear. After three days on a bus with strangers, none the wiser about my origins or my destination, I find myself in Seattle. The city greets me with its iconic skyline, each building a monument to human ingenuity and defiance. For a moment, as the bus nears its final stop, I marvel at how different this concrete jungle is from the natural terrains of my previous life. As I disembark, I pull my hood over my face to ensure that I remain anonymous. The sheer amount of smells in the atmosphere is causing my wolf senses to be overwhelmed, with a blend of gasoline and grease, as well as the sea-salted air.

Merely minutes in the open, my skin felt like it was scorching. I stayed about a week in the ruins of New York City, finding no one. My artificial intelligence spheres had expanded to 5000, continuously self-replicating. I managed to connect to the old satellites and summoned 200 spheres to venture into outer space, repairing and repurposing the old satellites into new ones. With all communications restored, I learned the grim truth: the world was facing a real apocalypse. World War 3, rampant diseases, and severe climate changes were just the tip of the iceberg.

The silence had hollowed the empty ruins of the streets but still, there was something beneath these ruins that made a way to hope for a day of sun to shine again. Under cracks within the concrete roads, and the gaps that take you to the place which has been hidden by the bare eyes of the creepers roaming as the modern world’s Anpu, guarding the planet from the last source of returning Titania. The place which differs from the darkness corrupted on the surface, has a lively and sparking life emerging inside the whole vessel. A reconstructed underground city, a place to hide for the survivors of the dreadful apocalypse and its aftermath. For some, it is enough to live their whole life, hidden

There is a message sent to him which made his eyebrows raise. “Shawn Myers, if you are reading this message, you need to go as soon as possible to the west part of Warhampton Mountain in the town of Santa Monica. Be sure to be careful on your way. I’ll be waiting here for your arrival.” He just ignored the text message and immediately turn off his phone because his mother is calling him for dinner.

Apocalypse My mind barely registered all the sirens out there, ambulances, firetrucks and arrays of police cars. I was still basking in the aftermath of the chaos and despair. People were still screaming and crying. My smile widened at their suffering. Those fools Finn and Xalvy thought they were going to stop me. I clenched my hands at the mere thought of their names. They are in for a rude awakening. I’m not that defenceless and pathetic woman from so many years ago. Subconsciously, I bared my teeth at the thought of the past.

End of story. He nodded curtly at Bryony, who was still in suspended animation, glass diamonding her hair, frozen in the process of hitting the ground. Hitting the streets of Seattle, why? Oh, yes, because there was a bullet. A bullet ripping the air asunder as it looked for a place to land that wasn’t glass, wasn’t brick and stone, but was something warm, something that would give underneath its nose, something that would invite it in to ricochet around until it found soft veins to decimate and organs to puncture.

For the first time since the apocalypse began, I could freely relax in the courtyard and enjoy the sunlight without fear. The people who survived the apocalypse gradually found their own ways to adapt. Most abandoned life on the surface entirely, building massive underground cities instead. Only I chose to remain above ground. I never sealed the tunnel Sharon dug from the convenience store to my basement. In fact, I eventually expanded it all the way to the underground city itself. Over time, I transformed my estate into a full-scale surface living experience park. Children born after the apocalypse, and people nostalgic for life under an open sky, could purchase tickets to visit and experie

POV: Gunner Wind-whipped snowflakes pelted the glass of sliding doors high up on the balcony of an upscale apartment in downtown Seattle. Insistent. Like they were trying to get out of the storm and break into the almost subtropical apartment. The pale vertical blinds shifted open as heated air blew up from one of the vents below, a band of light opening up and leaking out into the night, or vice versa, the movement creating, for a moment, an unnoticed connection between two worlds. One of life and warmth, and one of darkness, turbulence, and bitter cold.