Callidus Rising | Complete ✔️ | Book 1

Warning and Introduction

    Hello! I'm Jay and this is my story Callidus Rising. Everything in Callidus Rising is protected so please, Do Not Copy and/or Steal It!

This story is, in my opinion, Appropriate For Most Audiences so I did not put an age limit on it, but if anyone believes that it should be rated as Mature Content please contact me.

There is quite a bit of adult language within this story... Fair warning.

The majority of the imagery in this book was retrieved from the internet, and I do not claim ownership unless otherwise noted.

This is my first real story so make sure you give me your opinions! Productive criticism is very welcomed. And pleaseeeeee VOTE if you enjoy it.

PS... The photo above is a young Marion Cotillard. It's how I imagine Alexi, but you may imagine her in any way you wish.

Enjoy ♥️

Without further adue,
CALLIDUS RISING
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Introduction:
     Dust swirls in the air around me, and the bitter scent of metallic blood fills my mouth and nose.

My back is flat against hot soil, and the heat is radiating through my shirt, burning my back.

A familiar deafening high pitch screeches in my ears. I gag and choke, shaking my head as if it will dislodge the dirtied air from my lungs.

My head lolls to the side as I spot massive cracks in the earth, spiraling out from one point like a massive spider web. The chasms seem never ending.

From the dark depths, wrinkled hands are gripping into the dry dirt.

I manage to get to my feet, stumbling away as the ground continues to crack, the splintered lines racing toward me.

The ringing in my ears grows louder as a muddy hand suddenly shoots up. It reaches out for me, unkempt claw-like nails swiping out at me.

I stumble backwards onto something soft and warm. I immediately shuffle away, sinking from my two feet onto my knees as they give out.

It's not possible.

"Mom?"

Her withered hand shoots out and grabs me on the wrist, her grip causing searing pain. Her flesh is hotter than an open flame, and I grit my teeth to avoid crying out.

She stares at me with her once-bright green eyes, now bloodshot, and she gurgles on her words:

"Rise, Alexi. Do not back away," she says, her nails digging into my skin urgently.

Dark memories race through my mind as the dust around us kicks up, sanding my face and blinding me.

"My clever girl," she says, her free hand stroking my face, the pain of the heat not so hurtful anymore as tears blur my vision.

More hands sprout up around us, and remotely human figures climb from the earth's depths to grab at her and I.

"No!"

"I love you Alexi. Know that when the truth comes out," she whispers as they pull her under.

"Wait!"

I move toward her, my feet struggling to gain purchase as the relentless wind shoves me down.

A hand suddenly grasps the back of my shirt and blinding pain fills me as teeth dig into my shoulder.

It does not amount to the pain that burns in my chest as I watch the silhouette of my mother disappear into the dark depths.
*****
My eyes shoot open and I tumble out of the suspended form that is my bed.

The ground hurts.

Light slips through the coverings I have on the bullet and radiation-proof windows, making black spots appear in my unadjusted vision.

The familiar hum of my air recycler in the far corner comforts me as I push off of the floor, shuffling around for a moment to gain my balance, and move sluggishly over to the bathroom.

My floor is covered in meal-packet remnants and the fragments of items that I scavenged a while ago.

I kick a foreign metal scrap as I enter, the door sliding open in narrowly enough time for me to move through.

I shake my head, dispersing the headache that's attempting to come onto me as I press a small blue button with a water droplet on it on the wall of the blindingly bright white room.

Thick opaque glass walls slide up from the floor on either side of me, concealing the water from the rest of the room. Particles of water and some unknown freshener swirl around me as I tug off my clothes. I toss them over the side of the glass just before it seals into place at the ceiling.

I open my mouth and the water enters to cleanse my teeth and tongue, the gross taste morning breath vanishing.

The water swirls around me like a model hurricane, only much more pleasant. I stare at the blank ceiling for a few moments, allowing the steam and warmth to take away the turmoil of my cryptic nightmare. I glance over at the large barrel that sits in the far corner the bathroom.

My eyes travel down it until they land upon a thick red line, and when I see what is left inside the water purifier and storer, my finger immediately jabs the droplet button, ceasing the shower.

Of course, that water will be processed and purified and restored, but I don't really care.

There's no denying the fact: I need more water.

A massive fan in the ceiling blows an intense stream of warm air into the sealed shower area, drying me off in seconds.

As the glass begins to descend back into the floor, I spot folded cargo pants and a long-sleeved thermal shirt stacked neatly on the pristine white floor. A poofy purple scrunchie tops the pile.

"Thank you, Lukas!" I shout loudly, hoping the sound travels through the door.

I hear nothing in response as I tug on the clothes, my knotted hair falling around my shoulders.

I grab at it, capturing and flattening every strand aside from my bangs to my head as I spin the raven black locks into a tight bun.

The door struggles to close as I exit the second room and go back into the first.

I will have to fix that, I think to myself.

All over the walls are photos, posted with cheap tape and whatever adhesives I could find.

You'd be surprised the amount of tape that goes missing when the apocalypse hits.

A few battered comics lie stacked in the far corner of the first room, beside the Jumper.

My eyes fall on one featuring a slack-jawed, warp-skinned zombie limping along as it makes animalistic noises at a screeching woman.

I laugh to myself for a moment, thinking about how ironic the situation is. How ironic that people made these monsters from their imaginations just to have it become their reality.

Maybe if I had paid better attention to them back then I could've seen the signs early enough...

Could've saved my family from the fate of so many others.

But ifs and buts do not change my reality: The Genetically Altered Soldiers Program was real, the Nation and it's demise was real, my family is dead... I'm alone. And that is the truth. And it hurts more than the ground.