These are the end times, as seen by humanity before, during and after the catastrophic events that will forever change life on Earth. Included is a collection of 31 titles, from poetic fragments to 3 large story arcs in the dark fantasy and science fiction genres. Here is the doom, pain and survival. The Apocalypse has begun. This e-book contains a MEDIUM amount of controversial subject matter.
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A Story Fragment – Fleeing
“Mum? I’m scared, Mum.” The small boy squeaked, even as he tried to remain still in the cramped corner of the basement that his mother had stuffed him in.
“Hush now.” His mother quietly warned him. In her hands she held a makeshift spear, a former broom whose handle had been sharpened to a lethal point. “It’ll all be over soon. I promise.”
He’d heard those same words before, and from quite a few others, the small boy recalled. And all of those others who had made similar promises to him were now gone. They were the only two people left now: just him and his mother.
His mother crouched lower to the dank ground, as if she’d sensed danger lurking nearer. As a result, the boy clamped his hand over his mouth, so no audible words might leak out and give away their hiding place.
Shadows began darting across the few spots of daylight that managed to creep into the broken basement, when his mother’s sudden gasp jolted him. “Boy, you’ve got to run and hide, just like I showed you!”
The boy felt even more terrified than before. “But Mum…”
“Do as I told you!” His mother shrieked. “Go now!”
Hearing the rising panic in her voice, the boy barely managed to turn around in the confined space. A moment later, he was scampering through the tiny tunnel the adults had built as an escape route of last resort.
There was a nightmarish scream behind him, of such ferocity that the boy could barely comprehend that his mother was capable of making it, and then he remembered her earlier commands; “Whatever you see, whatever you hear, you don’t stop for it. Do you understand? You don’t stop for anything!”
Even as his mother’s desperate cries mingled with an approaching and savage guttural roar, the boy felt the tears start to stream from his eyes. He felt his face contort into a twisted caricature of grief and raw fear.
As the boy fled through the hole, clawing at the loose dirt and feeling the damp earth seep into the fabric of his tattered jeans, he never looked back.
Not even once.