Shelter 2014 Film Novels & Stories

Damn it, this wasn't an action movie. I growled at something very rude, fasted my M19 harder, and sprinted down the sidewalk on this side of the street. I never let our prey out of my sight for a moment. It was almost like a slalom. Again and again I had to avoid people and then I almost ran into a shelter. There was room for a handful of people in these small buildings. If you had to get to safety from a prole, you could run in there, seal the room and call the venators from inside via an emergency column.

Her eyes gleamed with hatred as she glared at me. My clothes were dusty gray. They could not tell what they were. After tugging at them, they realized it was animal hide. Hide was the warmest material, and the fuzzy lining inside was something they could not identify. Irene wanted to come along, but I refused. “You’re the staff. It doesn’t matter if you know about my shelter. “But she can’t come. We’re still in the survival challenge. Exposing the location of my shelter might be dangerous.” They agreed that it made sense. They refused to let Irene follow along.

I tried to identify him or who he was standing with as Amy began to speak. “None of you showed up at the city council meetings to get more information about the shelter,” she began. “And most of you signed my petition to allow the shelter to open on Lycan Square.” “Don’t listen to the dirty hybrid,” the strange man called from behind the crowd. “She’s trying to make a fortune while the criminal low-lifes in her supposed shelter will rob your homes. Your women and children won’t be safe.” “That’s a lie,” Amy proclaimed. “Folks coming to this shelter will be good people who need short-term assistance and guidance to become self-sufficient. No dangerous criminals will be allowed in this shelter

Upon leaving the shelter, he shouted at the top of his lungs, "Everyone, seek refuge in the shelter!" Due to the torrential rain, the villagers remained indoors, their doors tightly shut. Most of them didn't comprehend Randy's urgent pleas. I was frantic. The rain pelted my face, making it difficult to keep my eyes open. Nevertheless, I pushed through, knocking on nearby doors. "Leave your homes! Head to the shelter!" House after house, I persisted, while the professor and Randy guided the villagers toward safety. As the rain intensified, I reached the closest house to the landslide. The mountainside began to crumble, fear gripping my heart. Inside, only an elderly person and a little girl r

The survivors’ shelter wasn’t far from the military base—a short walk through a narrow, barricaded road lined with barbed wire and overturned vehicles. The shelter itself was a repurposed office building, its glass windows replaced with sheets of metal and its entrances fortified with makeshift barriers. The military base, just a few hundred meters away, was visible from the shelter’s rooftop.

Don't! The video played anyway. The shelter mostly housed pregnant women and children who'd passed rigorous screening before being admitted. These people still held onto their humanity and moral principles. As the brutal footage rolled, parents covered their children's eyes in horror. Others began recognizing the people on screen as the seemingly kind father and daughter they'd seen around the shelter. When the video ended, I paused it. "Most of you here are good, honest people. But we have parasites among us. These two never should have entered this shelter, but a corrupt staff member let them in anyway. They repaid that favor by trying to poison me."

POV: Isla | The Shelter, Rookeries The shelter has thirty-one children in it now and I have been awake for the better part of thirty-six hours and the thing that has kept me functional across those thirty-six hours is not coffee or willpower but the specific relentless urgency of children who need things, because when someone needs something from you, you find a way to provide it even when you have nothing left, and then you find a way after that.

Down play things you do? “I don’t know. I’d do anything to protect you. It’s not like I would have left you.” Putting my arm around her shoulders, she wrapped her arms around my waist. “Is the shelter done?” “Sure is. I would say we should kill something, but it’s getting too dark and we need to get in the shelter.” “Don’t have to tell me twice.”

Locks clicked open. “Choose, brother. Save him or stop me.” Damon froze. The beeping sped up. Kai’s eyes widened. “Damon—” Damon let go of his brother and ran to Kai—ripped the ropes off. “Go. Now.” “What about—” “GO!” They ran—up the stairs, through the warehouse, out into the cold night. Behind them, an explosion. Fire erupted. The building collapsed. Damon shielded Kai with his body. They hit the ground hard.

I avoided her eyes and pulled on my jacket. “I’m leaving early.” “Don’t forget we have dinner at Aunt Tara’s tomorrow.” My brain barely registered it. “Sure.” ⸻ The air outside felt like static—humid, restless, electric. On my walk to school, I tried typing “SHELTER” into my phone. Not just the word, but phrases like “Shelter facility,” “Shelter bus depot,” “Shelter town building.” A few results popped up, mostly useless. Old shelters for animals. Some abandoned buildings marked in the archives of the local historical society. One entry stood out: