《Apocalypse : A New Dawn》


 Prologue ( Maybe )

    Heavens were torn asunder and Earth broke into pieces.


    Tsunami, Earthquakes, Floods, Hail, Eruptions, Tornados, Plagues...disaster after disaster struck and killed most of the humanity. No one was spared. Rich and Poor , Strong and Weak, all died. In the eyes of God all are ants.


    Against the terrible power of nature, human knowledge and weapons were helpless. Everyone tried their best to survive but... they suffered. They died.


    This went on for decades before some semblance of peace occured. Everything was changed. Humans were back to square one.


    - New Age : A look into civilization old and new by Scholar Aspen.


    <hr>


    No one knows why it happened. Everyone has their own theory. Gods wrath, Rampaging AIs, Tectonic Shifts, Demon Atracks, Asteroid strike, Capitalists Conspiracy, Global Warming, Magnetic Shifts, Illuminati, Political Attack , WW3, Alien attacks,..you have it all.


    But everyone agrees that calling it an apocalypse would not be wrong. Except it was 8 years later than predicted. But most of the humanity was killed.


    Out of those few left , many have gone crazy. For them death is sweeter than life. They saw their own family and friends dying in the most gruesome ways. They dued in front of their eyes. And they couldn''t do anything. Now they are alive, but is at the price of their family and friends? Slowly...slowly...the guilt will eat them all. It always does. And it will continue to do so.Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    The sanes wake up shivering everynight from nightmares which remind them of hell. They are anyway halfway to madness.


    It''s what left of them, the Olds. Half broken and half dead.


    But you can''t relieve them. Manpower is now a precious commodity. Every hand counts. Maybe they will be relieved during the next food shortage?


    The ''News'' were born after the Wipeout. They haven''t seen the marvel of human civilization nor how it got destroyed, like sand against wind.


    But they do know what happened. The Bards and few crazy Olds make sure to remind ''News'' of what happened. Maybe it''s for sympathy or just a cruel way to reminiscence. It''s exaggerated and unbelievable. But when you step out and see the tall buildings kneeling, you start believing. Maybe all that was true.


    But no one cares. It''s all about living. History doesn''t matters. It''s only good for bar time stories, where you can drown your sorrows and past within mugs of beer and ales.


    Now it''s all about survival. Become strong and get stronger. Everything out there, wants to kill you. The sky, the earth, the beasts, the undead and the gods themselves.


    The only safe place are the tribes. The tribes themselves are built upon the back of ''News.'' Because they are different. They are changed. They know how to command powers not explained by science. They are the hunters. The next evolution of humanity.


    And they are the only hope.


    Because now it''s all about survival. And everything has a price.


    <hr>


    Authors thought.


    Waw...


    I am posting this story solely due to amount of free time I have due to transit. The whole story will most be typed on mobile. So please overlook my petty mistakes or just post them in the comment section.


    Story is going to be dark. MC himself will be the evil selfish and don''t know...crazy? I am just making everything up as we go along.


    And it might be disjointed a bit. I typed it one note and simply copy pasted the paras according to what I felt was good. ????


    Finally, I give you no guarantee regarding updates and continuation. For me it''s just a way to pass time. If the story actually works out I might start giving some RL time...lol

 Ch 1 : Waiting

    E6-A was one of the better preserved ruins after the Wipeout. Although many of its sectors and blocks had long turned to dust, the ruins of the once grand city still stood tall. Several skeletons of skyscrapers and buildings still dotted the scenery. Rusted cars still dotted the road reminding everyone of the once populated roads which made morning commute a headache.


    Until few years ago the city was filled with magical beasts ranging from E class rats to A Class zombies. But now not even their remains could be found. All of them were massacred, down to the tiniest of bugs. This all happened when people learnt that the ruin still preserved most of it''s items, initiating a temporary gold rush.


    More than thousand greedy humans armed to tooth jumped on the city with hopes of wealth and ancient technology. Now ten years later the city was eerily quiet and hauntedly bare. Remains of once massacre still could be seen. Burn marks, marks of corossions, skeletons of dead humans and beasts were still preserved. The day''s evening sun simply seemed to glorify it''s dead aura. A grand city had fallen to his knees. Usually no one would ever visit this dead city.


    But today a lithe figure could be seen deftly tackling the broken stairs and littered floors of one of the 50 floor building. But all of his actions left no evidence that anyone had ever been here. The toes would barely touch the floor, while the fingers just used the tips to balance. All in all, the action were of that of an experienced professional.


    Withine few minutes, the figure had long reached the 49 floor. But instead of going to roof he crossed the hall and stood near the south window. The black figure was dressed from top to bottom in black camouflage. Even his eyes were hidden under black glasses. He didn''t even spare a glance to the beautiful sunset, but immediately removed a small leather water bottle. He poured out all the water on the floor. The poured water soon gathered forming a dirty puddle.This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    He raised his hands towards the puddle and muttered, " Neaera, collect"


    His fingers glowed with a dim blue and the puddle rippled. Slowly the water started rising until a ball of water floated in the air.


    He gestured the ball toward the window and the ball obediently move forwards the window.


    "Neaera, lens" he said once again.


    This time the ball expanded in the air forming a convex lens in the air. Now everything was highly magnified and visible to the black figure. He carefully observed everything. Every once in a while he would nod. After few minutes he once again raised his hand and gestured in the air, "Neaera, collect."


    The lens collapsed turning back to a water ball which flowed back inside his empty leather bottle.


    Checking his watch, the black weather opened his bag. From inside he took out a large bowl. The bow was made from a complex collection of wood and bone pieces. Overall it looked extremely ugly, but the dense amount of killing aura gathered around it, stood as a testament to it''s killing powress and a count to how many living beings had died under its arrows.


    The black figure ran his hand down the bows spine. The action was extremely intimate and more like a lovers caress. The bow shivered in response.


    "It''s time for another hunt, Phonoi" said the black figure. The voice was as cold as the winter snow, without any feeling except for hints of deeply hidden traces of excitement.


    The bow once again shivered in response, as if excited. Small amount of blood lust strtaed leaking from the black bow.


    "Hush...it''s still time. You will scare away the prey." Said the figure, calming down the excited bow.


    "Few minutes more...few minutes more. We will have a buffet dears..." He muttered. In answer the air around him shivered.


    "Come soon my dear prey...it''s time for another death...another sacrifice...another dead under the hands of spirits..." He hummed. The cold tune marking the end of another life.


    And so the black figure waited with his bow impatiently waiting for its dinner, while the sun slowly set, covering the city in shadows of night.

 Ch 2 : Hunting Part 1

    A group of six people entered from the west side of E6-A. All of them were seated on an old but heavily modified car. The car had long lost its original looks, and was now a collection of dangerous equipments like spikes, rammers, guns etc. The bonnet and bumper were funished with metallic and bony spikes. It''s sides were welded with thick metal plates. The back open bed was filled with cans of deisel and water. The top was made from thick hide, almost impossible to penetrate through common weapons. The wheels themselves were far thicker than the usual. The front was armed with machine guns, but it''s working status was questionable. It wasn''t definite whether it was for show or for true killing. But no one ever wanted to check.


    "Are you sure it''s here? This city has long been picked clean." Asked a lanky young man. His dirty blond hairs were short cut but carefully maintained. His face was not clearly visible under the mask. But a long scratch could be seen, starting from his eyes and vanishing underneath the mask. Rest of him was covered in an odd assortment of defensive gears like gauntlets, pads, thick leather etc, but all of them were in pristine condition. A red skull was painted on his chest plate, showing his alliegiance to Red Skull gang from the Liberty Tribe. The gang wasn''t exactly a big shit, but still it wasn''t part of the low scums. It was doing good and could be counted among the middle rankers.


    "Dont worry! Don''t worry, Sir Hound, I am 80% sure about it. The warehouse was buried underground during the Wipeout. Not many would be able to find it without proper directions. Infact if not my gramps worked here, even I wouldn''t be able to find it. He told me about it " Answered back an average sized man. He was dressed in dirty rags. Everything from his hair to clothes were covered in a thick layer of dirt. So neither his actual face was visible nor his figure. The whole thing looked deliberate if observed carefully. The statement was carefully structured to sound flattering and at the same time, it stood as a warning, that all the information was in his head, so they shouldn''t think about harming him.


    The lanky young man flinched in disgust and cursed under his breath. If not for the treasure, he would never even glance at this beggar. He really wanted to kill him and obtain the map. The problem was, everything was strides in this bastards brains. When they had learnt about the news through their ''Rats'', their team had rapidly taken over the man''s business forcing him to share the treasure. According to their advisor, if what the beggar was saying was true, they would be able to get around few million in exchange. That would be enough to see them for life.


    Following him were four of his captains personal guards. Although they were called guards, Hound was sure that they were here to look over him...in a prisoners sense. All four of them had been brought up by the captain and were his trusted aides. This didn''t wnet well with him. He grumbled and cursed the captain for not trusting him. He had been working for him for around 5 years and the captain still didn''t trust him. But deep down he understood why the captain was doing so, and respected him for it. In an age when parents could kill their child for food, trust was a rare commodity. But still...five years!


    Besides him the dirty clothes man kept a flattering look on his face. He had obtained the map from one of his debtors. The problem was the location was near the outskirts of sector E6-A and he wasn''t strong nor brave enough to try such a risky venture. So he decided to form a partnership with a local gang. Who knew, by the end of the day the gang forcefully took over his business and now treated the treasures as their own. He couldn''t help but curse his foolishness. It would have better to sell the information for a small fee.


    The four guards dressed in identical clothings and sporting an identical crop hairstyle guarded them silently. One of them carefully drove the Jeep with its trailer around numerous obstacles. The rest two walked ahead of the car, clearing the way for it. They would move the bigger obstacles like cars and bikes. The last guard stood behind the beggar and the leader, keeping a lookout for enemies and variables.If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    While the Hound and beggar cursed each other and lamented about their lives while thinking about the treasure, a hunter had already marked them for dinner. A bloody raw dinner with six course of bloodiness.


    After an hours they had almost reached the city centre and were crossing on to the south side. Unlike other sides the south side had numerous tall buildings. The tall shadows created by them covered the whole way in a despressing darkness. Not even the moonlight could enter. As they moved deeper, all of them turned more silent and alert. Every chirp, every swing of the wind would make them raise their weapons. Every shadow had turned into monster. Every corner seems to hide one.


    "Umm...why don''t we take a break." Suggested the beggar. The empty city and the depressing darkness was scaring him to death. It was difficult keeping himself from howling and burying himself under layer of blankets. Usually he would be fucking one of his concubines or counting his wealth. He wasnt scared of darkness. But the darkness of this city was not just darkness. Like the city, it had it''s own story. It''s own residents. And from what he had heard from others, no one ever came back alive after meeting these ''residents'' and ''storytellers.''


    Hound looked at the beggar, and nodded after a while. The darkness was not a good time to travel. Soon it will be midnight and it would be time for ghosts and spirits to rise. He looked at his guards and gestured them to stop and make camp. Two of them saluted and ran towards the nearest building to look for a place to camp. Meanwhile the rest two prepared the camping bags and patiently waited.


    Meanwhile the black figure on a building not far off grinned in delight. It was time to dine, and today it would be Libertian Blood and soul. He raised his bow and stretched the imaginary string. Wind started gathering in the center, forming an arrow. The tip was made of sharp spinning wind, ready to shred everything in its way. It was an arrow perfected for killing. Whether it was the sharp winds on the tip of the arrow, or the slow spinning wind on its body. Everything about it spoke stability, precision and murder. A small amount of blood lust had seeped into it from the bow, making it far more fearsome.


    "Boreas, strike true..." He ordered, and the arrow shivered in reply. He let the arrow go. With a silent swish the arrow cut through air. It passed through the gaps of the building and open windows in a straight path and struck one of the two guards responsible for finding a camp.


    The wind arrow struck the guard''s head and vanished. The wind seeped inside his head and cut his nerves. The cut was extremely tiny, but enough to leave them incapable of working.The bloodlust and killing aura from the bow which had seeped inside the arrow, immediately attacked the guards soul and overwhelmed it. Everything happened in a few seconds and the guard was killed without any outward evidence. If anyone with spirit sight would observe , they would find that the soul of the guard seemed to be pulled towards the black figure, along with his vitality, as the bloodlust and killing aura returned back to its owner. Few seconds later it entered the bkack figure and through him to the bow.


    The bow shivered with delight and asked for more. Sensing it''s delight the figure in black grinned and spoke, " Hush dear, you have more five to enjoy..."


    Down below the dead guard was still standing still. Since the arrow had killed him from inside and with no external force the man was still completely balanced. His legs were still following the brains first order. In short, the body hadn''t realised that it was now dead.


    Few steps ahead the first guard was still looking around for a safe and easily defendable camp place. He was humming a local song with broken tunes and lyrics. His gruff voice made the already funny tune, even weirder and unlistenable.


    "Number 3, what do you think about this one... " Before he could speak further, another arrow struck him and silently took another life.


    Like this two guards died with no sound, and with all their grievances unaddressed. The resentment floating in the air like a beacon for all those dead ghouls and spirits.


    Now just four more to go. Four more different tastes to be tasted.

 Ch 3 : Hunting Part 2

    The two guards had just left few minute ago, when suddenly one of the guards near the jeep, jerked and spat blood.


    "Dead...both of them died. " He spoke gravely with a pale face.


    Everyone looked at the guard with shock.


    "What are you saying?!?" Asked the other guard in confusion, as well as shock. It wasn''t that he didn''t realise the meaning behind this news, but he didn''t wanted to recognise it. He knew that his companion was a Telepath. He could connect and talk spritually with others. During such missions he would act as a link betwen everyone. And because of this sole reason their captain had send him on this mission. As for the two guards sent earlier, both of them were level 3 metahumans. They could easily deal with all types of dangers which could occur in this area. He himself was a level three. And if someone could kill them without any chance to fightback, he definitely didn''t stand stand a chance.


    "My connection with both of them is dead."


    He replied still suffering from the backlash caused due to the spiritual cut off.


    "What do you mean?" Questioned Hound, but it was more for the sake of confirming, than questioning. He had got a brief idea on seeing their reactions.


    The guards ignored his question and immediately got in the truck. Their training took over their feelings and emotions. They couldn''t dare too loose their calm in such a situation. The guard suffering from backlash, took out his gun and removed the safety. Seeing his actions, Hound didn''t ask more, but took out his own staff. The crystal on the top of the staff started glowing with a dim white brilliance.


    Meanwhile beggar simply looked at them dumbfounded. He didn''t understand anything which occured in last few seconds. One moment they were waiting, and the other second the guard spat blood and everyone took out their weapons.


    The guard in the drive seat turned on the engine, but suddenly he stopped. His actions paused in air. Behind him the other guard also jerked, and similarly his eyes became vacant. The gun fell from his hands, alerting the Hound and the beggar.Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    "What the fuck?!?" Screamed hound in horror. Although beggar didn''t recognise what happened due to his inexperience, Hound did. Both of them had died. Their souls cut off. He instinctively raised his staff and a dim shield covered him and the beggar.


    "Oy, take cover! We are under attack!" He ordered the beggar in an shivering voice. The attacks had scared him down to the marrows. He couldn''t even see the attacks and both of the guards died . He was almost a 4th rank metahumans, and he couldn''t see the attacks! It signified that either the attacker was far above him in ranking or the attack was purely spritual in nature. But the Telepath should have sensed such attack and alerted them! Before he could ponder any further his shield suddenly broke.


    An immense amount of energy transmitted through the connection between him and shield almost rendering him dead. Still his hands had gone limp, and he could feel broken bones and muscles throughout his body.


    He started coughing blood, and he could see pieces of his organs in them. He was effectively crippled.


    "Waw...you are still alive. That should have been enough to kill you..." Came a voice, from front of him.


    He raised his eyes, but he could see nothing. It was the same pure back darkness of the wilds.


    "Who are you?? And why are you trying to kill us? Don''t you know we are from..." He roared back in false bravado, before he was interrupted.


    "Red Skull Gang, Liberty City. I know...I know...don''t worry. I take my preys after much research." The voice answered back in a teasing tone with a hair rasing giggle.


    "And why do you all always use the same cliche lines? Do you guys have a common template, which you follow? I am from blah blah land, and blah blah guy is my father..." It continued as if it had lots of time.


    Hound didnt try to stop it. He slowly revolved the mana inside him, gathering energy. He would die along with this hateful voice.


    "You know...gathering mana to self explode is not a logically sound choice. It''s far too wasteful. Why, not I help you since you want to die?" Suggested the voice, and behind it came an arrow. The arrow didn''t give Hound anytime to react before striking his heart and killing him.


    Hound could do nothing but look at his gaping chest and shredded heart. Blood started leaking from his mouth, as his eyes slowly turned vacant.


    "Hmm...stale chips. I was expecting something better. Such a turn off, don''t you think darling?"


    And the bow trembled.

 Poll

    Not a chapter. If everything goes as planned, the next few chapters and almost all future ''graphic works'' will have rather gory and detailed descriptions of torture. I just wanted to ask, whether I should do so or change it.


    Gory will include rather descriptive details of what is occuring.  Like , he took out a scalpel and brandished it in front of him. Slowly he brought it towards his skin, and started cutting. A thin bloody cut was left in its place. The guttural screams of the crying man echoed in the chamber.The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    The second option will keep everything vague. It will be more like, yes he did it, rather than he is doing it.


    More like, few hours later he comes out. The painful scream had long stopped. His clothes were a bit bloody from all the workout.


    Option three will have descriptions but in moderation. Instead of going overvboard in details, the content will be graphic but not that much. Most of the content will be skipped over.


    If you have any other suggestions, please leave it down in the comment sections.


    I hope I was able to explain what i mean to say