Refugee Novels & Stories

I take a moment to collect my thoughts before opening my eyes and looking at him again. “What I want,” I say quietly, “is a big team to go solve a lot of the overarching problems with the refugees. Doctors, lawyers, social workers – anyone who can help us start to patch the big problems there, to get these camps functioning not as a holding space but as a system that helps people get back to their lives, or start new ones.”

Again, Sera places her hand against it, the flame flickering to nothing as she needs both hands for whatever unlocking mechanism she's activating. The door swings open, revealing a corridor that looks jarringly out of place in the abandoned building—clean, well-lit, with smooth concrete walls painted a neutral gray. "Welcome to the Refuge," Sera says, gesturing for me to enter. I hesitate, suddenly uncertain. "Refuge for whom, exactly?" "For those who don't align with either side. The unaffiliated. The ones who just want to be left alone." She nods toward the corridor. "It's safer inside than out here, I promise you that."

"I'm tired of just surviving. I want to live. Want to raise our child in a world where they don't have to constantly look over their shoulder." "That world might not exist. Not in our lifetime. Maybe not in theirs either." "Then we build it. One day at a time. One battle at a time. One treaty amendment at a time." A commotion at the border interrupted us. Wolves running. Shouting. Fear in their voices. "What now?" I ran toward the disturbance, Lucian close behind. We found them at the north entrance. A group of refugees. Wolves from the Free Packs. Bloody. Terrified. Running from something.

Inside The Refugees registration and Interview Main Building, shouts of relief and cries of happiness were a normal occasions through out the day. people who first went into the room as Refugees comes out as the citizen of Aeternum, they waved their approved papers in the air and jumps, some were hugging the papers as their most treasured items in the entire worlds. It’s to be said as the happiest moment for most Refugees here. But at the same time there were also a few that instead of coming of the Interview Room with happiness, instead the ran out for their lives. And every time such things happ

"One van goes north. One goes west. If anyone's watching, they won't know which vehicle you're actually in. We switch vehicles twice on the route. Standard protocol for high-risk relocations." "High-risk relocations. That's what we are now. Refugees fleeing our own lives." "You're survivors taking necessary precautions. There's a difference." The drive took six hours. Emma fell asleep in my lap. Marcus sat across from us, staring out the window. Neither of us spoke. What was there to say? Everything we'd built was being left behind. Everything we'd fought for was being abandoned. Because one seventy-year-old woman had more patience and resources than the entir

Silas nodded and looked at me. “Alpha Mason, you knew Corin was special, but you believed it came only from being half blood. You thought human weakness and wolf strength were fighting inside her. But look at the woman.” He pointed at my mother. “Vanessa is not a simple refugee. She is a Guardian. Her bloodline is the only one in the world that can endure and balance the burning presence of the Alpha Aura Prima.” A murmur moved through the warriors. Mason raised an eyebrow but did not loosen his hold on me.

It was five billion people taking their first breath at the same time. The glass pods shattered. The amber fluid spilled onto the manicured lawns. Men, women, and children tumbled out of their "Safety," coughing and gasping as thirty years of history hit them like a freight train. The Nursery was no longer a museum. It was a **Refugee Camp**. "What... what is this?" a woman in a floral dress asked, looking at the obsidian giant standing in her driveway. "Where's the sun?" a child cried, pointing at the white, shrinking rift in the sky.

Qais said while looking at a livestream on the phone, “These streamers are so cringe.” “I cannot comprehend this level of hypocrisy,” the Maths teacher gave Qais a bombastic side-eye. “Papa, when will Mama come?” Farha asked. “Mama is with Suleiman,” Suleiman’s father answered, “They will meet us later.” They finally reached the bunkers, where long lines of refugees were slowly but steadily entering them. “Don’t push, don’t stop, just keep moving,” the police and soldiers kept repeating as they helped the refugees enter.

Before the woman could explain herself; she and her innocent baby were gruesomely murdered with wooden planks and stones around before the killing was then extended to other innocent passers-by who didnt belong to the offended religion. The safest place to run to was the barracks; the army barracks, as the assailants could easily identify members of their religion from others. Large numbers of men, women and children who narrowly escaped, were taking refuge at the barracks. Their numbers were increasing on daily basis such that survival in the barracks was another tug of war. To the extent that the number of refugees that gathered became hard to control and ca

The subordinate stood to one side, looking worriedly at his left hand, from which blood was continuously dripping. “Go back.” “Yes.” The subordinate lowered his head and added, “By the way, Mr. Wordsworth, I asked around about the rules for smuggling flights. To avoid being discovered, all refugees are crammed into a compartment at the very bottom of the cargo plane. And once someone is found causing trouble or getting into a conflict, they’ll be thrown off immediately.” The lives of smuggled refugees were not considered lives.