Station Eleven Novels & Stories

On New Year’s Eve, Kian Newman never came home. Instead, he had someone deliver a container of frozen ravioli and sent me a single message: "Stay safe this year." I had barely locked the screen when a photo popped up in the company group chat. Isabel Wilkinson, Kian's assistant, had posted it. It was a lavish holiday dinner spread across the table, every dish clearly homemade. The caption read: "Someone spent all day cooking so I could have a taste of home. Love you."

Even the corner store cashier couldn't stop talking about the biggest undercover takedown in a decade. When you're at rock bottom, you hate everything. I hate Owen for his cruelty. Hate my father for his stupidity. Hate this rotten world. Hate myself for being so weak. I shut myself in. Wasted away. A bag of noodles in the fridge lasted a week. When I was thirsty, I'd cup my hand under the tap. I'd lie there staring at the peeling ceiling, from pitch black to dawn. My weight plummeted to under ninety pounds. Owen reached out once. For Riley.

**Hearts in the Storm** The storm outside rages on, mirroring the chaos within the cabin. Rain lashes against the windows, lightning occasionally illuminating the dark forest that surrounds them. Inside, tension simmers. Ethan, Sophia, Max, and Jason are all on edge, with danger looming just beyond the walls. The fire crackles, but its warmth does little to comfort them. As the gunshot echoes in the distance, fear tightens its grip on everyone, but it’s the weight of the secrets that has shattered the fragile trust between them.

The GPS says his phone is close to one river bordering the park. But then I pause. Everything seems amiss; it's too easy. Could this be an ambush? I'm a wealthy man, and many people know that. Maybe I need to be cautious, but Gills is dragging me along, and I gasp in shock. My disbelief turns into horror as I see Brad's lifeless body on the ground. Who would do such a thing to him? Tears flow from my eyes, and I fall to my knees beside Gills, who is weeping just as hard. The officer approaches Brad's motionless form, surrounded by purple lilies. The area feels eerie and unsettling, and my stomach churns with sickness. Is he still alive? Have I lost my closest friend forever?

he said carefully, “one day your habit of antagonizing terrifying creatures is going to backfire.” “One day?” He sighed. “You make optimism difficult.” They moved through the ruins with practised silence. Boots crunching through ice. Weapons ready. Every shadow is dangerous. Somewhere in the distance came the horrible shriek of wilds hunting prey. Sera ignored it. Fear made noise. Hunters stayed quiet. ****** Sector Nine subway station appeared beneath a collapsed overpass half-buried in snow. The entrance yawned open like the mouth of something dead. Jonas checked his rifle. “I hate subway missions.”

" I took a proud sip of my soda on camera. After Gavin totally lost it, I ended the call. The scorching heat had lasted three months. Then one day, a single raindrop fell from the sky. It poured for three days and nights, and at last, the temperature dropped back to normal. Armed with an electric baton, I went to room 401, opened the door, and was hit with a stench so foul it's hard to describe. A decayed skeleton lay on the living room floor, barely any flesh left, probably Jennifer. I had not left any diesel for the generator. When it stopped, the heat soared. Jennifer's chewed-up bones started to rot.

He would find the girl from the diner, and he would spend the rest of his life making her understand that he had never meant to leave her in the dark. ..... //Lyra's pov// I stood in the center of the kitchen, a roll of thick brown packing tape held in my trembling hand. The sound of it peeling away from the roll, a sharp, aggressive *shreeeeck* shattered the heavy silence of the room. It was 11:00 PM, and the bakery below had just started its giant industrial mixers, sending a low vibration straight up through the floorboards and into the soles of my feet.

Alex secured Damian in the far corner, chaining him to a steel support beam like the animal he was. Only then did we breathe. Alex dropped into the chair across from me, rifle slung loose across his lap. His eyes found mine, searching, anchoring. “We need to know if he’s lying.” I nodded. “I’ll check.” The satellite terminal blinked to life under my fingerprints. Slow, crawling through encrypted channels until it hit the feed Damian had hinted at. One click. Another. And there it was. Site Eleven was gone—reduced to rubble and ash. But not thirty miles from it, buried beneath a forest I’d thought long-abandoned… another facility flickered online.

The tension he left behind lingered anyway. Caleb exhaled quietly beside the stove. “He’s stressed.” “Everybody’s stressed,” Rowan said without looking up. Nobody argued with that. The sleet intensified outside, rattling softly against the cabin roof while wind pushed fog through the trees surrounding the ridge. Evelyn stared into the stove flames, trying not to think about how quickly winter had arrived in this timeline. Another change. Another thing is happening too soon. The electronic tone flickered softly through her skull. CLIMATE INSTABILITY DETECTED.

At times, while Facetiming, Leanna would suddenly say, "You've gotten thinner again, Gwyn." "That can't be. I'm eating my weight in food." "But you've really lost weight. Even Gram said…" She then trailed off and didn't complete her sentence. Gwyneth didn't ask her to finish it either. She knew what Leanna was trying to tell her, but she just wasn't interested in what Graham had to say. December arrived in the blink of an eye, and Lanton had its first snowfall of the season. Gwyneth snapped a photo of the snow and posted it on her Instagram, captioning it, "First snow."