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Short Story: 20 Years

This is Sarge speaking, speaking from the once beautiful city of Sarnia twenty years ago, now the dirty, destroyed, five small villages of Rhodes. I know you're wondering, "Why are ya talking about this?" Well, I have been contemplating life for quite a while. And I've been wondering, how did we only manage to restore all radio waves within our area, but not anywhere else? How is it that we can't seem to maintain order? Hell, we can't seem to find any weapons or food, not even fodder! - Oh well, I guess that what happens after the Flare appears out of nowhere. If only the nuclear reactors still worked then we wouldn't have to worry about the cold. Sure, we are oxygen deprived and the O2 is slowly eroding, but our bodies can adapt to the oxygen loss.

Now, on to more serious matters. Lately as I stared into the dark abyss known as Space, I saw something huge pass by eyes slowly. At first I didn't know what the hell I just saw, but when I grab what my friend told me it was called a "tel-a-scope". I looked into it, and voila! I saw one of the greatest things I have ever seen since the tel-a-scope I used to see this. It was a spaceship. Not just any spaceship, an enormous one that stretch the sky for about a minute or so before fading away.

Now for the past twenty years, I have never seen anything like this in my life, you guys got to believe me. No alcohol has been found anywhere, YET. I am aware that I am a renowned Staff Sergeant in the Military and and was honorably discharged. I have never tasted alcohol in my life ever. I'm not senile either. You have to believe me.

Sergeant Robert "Sarge" Peters was hanged for spreading rumors and false allegations

March Eighth, 2019

Short Story: Arizen Harblem

"Arianna! Hurry Up! You're gonna be late!"

"I'm coming Mom." It's hard to catch up with Mom ever since this damn war began. She volunteered to be a nurse. So I, being the only daughter, had to follow suit. So now I haul medicine from the alchemy ward straight to the injured people in the hospital. But, lately I haven't been feeling good. I have headaches, and I feel like I can't breathe at sometimes. When I told my mom, she would offer me the Oxy 30s, in which I immediatly reject. Now is not a good time to get high. Sometimes she would go out and stand out on the ledge, thinking about Daddy. Every now and then she would weep bitterly and pray for a safe voyage home. I would too, but then half-heartedly. Then I would repeatly nag her about how I feel worse. One day she lashed out at me.

"Why don't you fucking take the Oxy? You think of yourself like a Christian? Just take them God-"

"Mom! Why are you talking this way? we literally were raised in the Gospel, of course I think like a fucking Christian! You know what, forget this! I'm going back to Nebraska!"

"N-no! You can't leave me, I'm your Mother, come back here right this instant!"

"Mom... I'm seventeen, I just "celebrated" my birthday three days ago. Did you even remember?" Mom just stares at me. I continued, "Is my presence here necessary?" Again, Silence. I then run away from her. She has only been using me only for her hungering addiction to Narcotics.


Two weeks passed, I have been diagnosed with Argon Poisoning and Hypoxia. My time is limited.

Then, as she sucked on some helium with the attempt to commit suicide, an Atom Bomb fell twenty miles from the city of Sarnia. The shockwave destroyed a nuclear power plant. While the radiation of the bomb and the power plant flowed throughout the land, a solar flare lashed out to the Earth, searing away the some of the Ozone. Thus causing mass mutations to plants and living species. Such were humans exposed to radiation. They Glowed to the point of being like a lightbulb. They carried healing powers unlike any other. Named after the therapy treatment, the Anodyne were born. Known to live up to 400 years.

None, however, has lived that long. They are hunted down for being an excellent fuel source. The controversy over them being truly "human" has been in debate for the past 105 years.

December 16, 2019

A Short Story: Twenty YearsWhere stories live. Discover now