Survivor Novels & Stories

Ethan said quietly. The woman stayed calm “You were the only survivor” the room became very quiet Kai felt like he couldn’t breathe Survivor Of what? Ethan spoke softly “What are you talking about?” the woman looked straight at him “You didn’t just survive that fire,” she said She paused “You started it” Silence filled the room Heavy Painful Kai slowly turned to look at Ethan He felt shock Fear and Doubt Only for one second But Ethan saw it. That small change in Kai’s eyes that tiny moment of hesitation It hurt Ethan more than the handcuffs and guns More than anything else that night “I don’t remember,” Ethan said His voice brok

How could there be any survivor? The others were silent upon hearing her remarks. But Beta Miguel was quick to catch on as he replied, ‘‘No, there are actually two who survived at that time. One of whom was already been killed a few years ago during our war against Ezekiel. And the other one is...’’ Beta Miguel took a moment of pause. But when he realized something really grave, his eyes widened in sheer shock and terror. And then he shouted, ‘‘Damn it!!! Everyone be careful. Alert everyone with a red alert. It's that bastard Ezekiel who's attacking us!!!’’

SEIRRA'S POINT OF VIEW I am a survivor. That’s what I keep telling myself every single morning I wake up, look into the mirror, and force my reflection to meet my gaze. My reflection doesn’t always believe me. Some days, the woman staring back at me looks tired, fractured, and weighed down by memories she has no business carrying anymore. But I am Sierra Morgan. I survived Logan Hart. I survived Liam Foster. And if life thinks it can throw more at me—I’ll survive that too.

I said. In my past life, I'd witnessed too many occasions of humans turning out to be more savage than zombies when they wanted to eat. They would do everything they could to get a mouthful of food. After the zombie outbreak, morals and laws meant nothing. Survivors would do anything to stay alive. The bad memories made me tremble uncontrollably, but a warm hand on my cheek pulled me back to my senses. Mom said gently, "Things must've been hard for you, sweetheart."

ATHENA'S pov Was I really cursed as she had stated ?. Was I really not meant to be around people with love ?. It did make sense since I was never with a family more than six months . Either returning me back or being murdered . Rosie and mark were the only ones that showed me love but they were killed in cold blood . I could feel another wave of tears coming up . How was I to survive the streets ,?I was only eleven years old. *Now is not the time to cry girl, find shelter before dark*

¶Aiyla PoV¶ ¶But One Of The Big Lessons I have Learned From My Journey Is You Can't Please Everyone, So Don't Try¶ - CHRIs COLfER 🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️ Sometimes in life painful things can teach us lessons that we didn't think we needed to know. same thing happened to me, the painful things, the trauma and abuses I went throughout my life made me strong.. made me a fighter and survivor too! It made me realise the harsh reality of life! Life is not filled with beautiful flowers...it is also filled with thorns and it is upon us how we walk through that thorny path. "Either you give up...which is too cowardice"... "Or you could stand up and fight for

Sandra says, “Can you move in with me?“ Richard asked, “Maybe after my final exams,” Sandra says, and Richard starts the car engine and drove to the hostel where he dropped Sandra, and she came out of the car, she walked to the entrance of the hostel where she met Bounty, “welcome, what did you bring for me?“ Bounty asked, “only roasted meat” Sandra retorted, “you didn't bring soft drinks?“ Bounty asked,

She started other fires as another song came on and she sang along with a portion of it “…I’m a survivor..I’m not gon give up…I’m not gon stop…I’m gonna work harder…I’m a survivor…I’m gonna make it…I will survive….keep on survivin’….after all of the darkness and sadness…soon comes happiness…If I surround myself with self and positive things..I’ll gain prosperity…I’m a survivor..I’m not gon give up…I’m not gon stop…I’m gon work harder…I’m a survivor…I’m gonna make it.. I will survive…keep on survivin’..”

“Men, women, and children were all slain, Your Excellencies, save...for one.” “You mean there is a survivor?” Eleazar exclaimed with considerable emphasis. He eyed Mikha’el and watched how he easily opened his mouth. “Technically, no, this one did not survive the massacre.” “But why do you say so otherwise? What are you meaning to tell us?” Eleazar’s brows furrowed. “The survivor — as you had called it — is a woman, sire. But she wasn’t spared by the attack at all. She died, but the essence of life returned back to her. She lives again.”

The survivor laughed softly. "No." The cracks widened. The creator's pressure slammed against the white space. Reality shook. The survivor didn't move. Didn't flinch. Didn't even seem concerned. Which somehow felt terrifying. "You are interfering again." The creator's voice echoed from everywhere. The survivor looked upward lazily. "She's not your experiment." Silence. The words hit hard. Experiment. Again. The creator didn't deny it. Because it couldn't. The survivor's expression darkened. "I watched seventy-three worlds die."