MidReal Story
Eternal Dawn: Apocalypse's Last Hope
Scenario: zombie apocalypse weapon
Create my version of this story
I woke up and immediately sat up, realizing that I had fallen asleep on the cold, hard floor of the hideout.
And it was freezing.
The nightmare of the zombie apocalypse still lingered, even when I was awake, but I shook my head to rid myself of the dark thoughts.
I couldn’t let them consume me or they would break me.
My body shivered as I stood up and stretched, my back popping with a satisfying crack.
The sound of my brother, Jack, snoring softly in his makeshift bed made me smile.
It was good to hear that sound, even after everything we’d been through.
A chill ran down my spine as I remembered the terrifying events that had led us to this abandoned building.
The constant fear and anxiety, the overwhelming despair—all of it so fresh in my mind that I could almost feel it.
I wrapped a blanket around my body to stave off the cold and walked over to the small window that overlooked the city.
We were far enough away from the city center that we didn’t have a direct view of the chaos, but I could still see the silhouette of buildings against the dark night sky.
The moon cast an eerie glow over the city and I shuddered at the sight before me.
It was hard to believe that this was the same metropolis I had grown up in, a place full of life and energy.
Now it was a ghost town—a graveyard of shattered dreams and lost lives.
Tears welled in my eyes as I thought about everything we had lost.
I knew I shouldn’t dwell on the past, but sometimes it was hard not to.
Taking a deep breath, I wiped away the tears before they could fall and tried to compose myself.
There was no point in crying.
It wouldn’t change anything.
And we still had a long way to go before we were out of danger.
I steeled myself for another day of fighting to survive, doing whatever it took to protect Jack and our small group of survivors.
I gently nudged Jack awake, not saying anything, just giving him a look that said it’s time to get moving.
He groaned and rubbed his face, his eyes blinking slowly as he came to.
I saw the same exhaustion and determination in his eyes that I felt mirrored in my own, a reminder that we had both grown up way too fast since this whole nightmare began.
Without a word, we went through our morning routine—we washed up, brushing our teeth with bottled water, changed our clothes, and headed over to the kitchen area to make breakfast, which consisted of canned beans with some crackers we had found in a nearby grocery store.
Water was scarce so we rationed it carefully, only using what we needed to eat and drink, and otherwise keeping it for emergencies.
We were nearly out and I knew that we would have to go on another water run soon, though I hated to think what we might encounter on the way there or back.
While Jack went to get his gun, I sat down to clean my knife, running a rag along the blade to make sure it was free of any dirt or blood.
We never knew when we might need them, so we checked them every day to make sure they were still sharp and in working order.
I’d had mine since the beginning—before we’d lost everything—and it was a comfort to have it at my side, even though I hoped I’d never have to use it.
Finishing up, I put it back in its sheath and slipped it into the waistband of my jeans, making sure it was secure before standing up and heading over to find Jack.
He was sitting on the couch that we’d dragged to the center of the room, holding his gun in his lap as he looked out the window, scanning the area for any sign of movement or danger.
He looked up when I approached, his eyes meeting mine, and I nodded toward the door, a silent question hanging between us.
We were ready to go.
Jack followed my gaze to the door, then back to me, and he nodded once, slowly.
I saw the hesitation in his eyes, the concern he tried to hide, but we both knew that we didn’t have much of a choice.
If we stayed here too long, it would be too late for us.
“Let’s go,” he said at last and stood up from the couch, slinging his bag over his shoulder as he prepared to leave.
We had made this place our home for the last few days, but we couldn’t stay here forever.
The streets of New York City could be hauntingly quiet, especially at this time of the morning.
It was still early, the sun barely beginning to rise in the distance, but the city that never slept had been plunged into a perpetual darkness that seemed almost unnatural.
Everywhere we looked, we saw the signs of the destruction that had been wrought by the zombie apocalypse, the once-bustling streets now eerily silent, and the towering skyscrapers reduced to nothing more than tombstones marking the graves of millions.
The only sounds were the shuffling of our feet against the pavement and the occasional gust of wind that rattled the trashcans and sent bits of debris skittering across the sidewalk.
We weren’t alone—there were a few other survivors from our group who had decided to come with us—but there were so few of us now that it felt like we were.
We didn’t talk as we made our way through the streets, each one of us lost in our own thoughts and fears.
We had a plan, but it was a dangerous one.
We were going to scavenge for supplies in an area that we hadn’t dared to enter before, because it was too close to where we knew there were zombies.
But the supplies were running low, and we didn’t have much of a choice if we wanted to survive.
So, we went, armed and watchful, knowing that any misstep could be our last.
Sarah, with her long black hair pulled back into a ponytail, was walking next to me, and I could see her scanning the buildings around us, looking for signs of movement or danger.
She was our medic, and she was always prepared for anything.
I don’t know what we would do without her steady hands or unwavering resolve.
But even with her by my side, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.
That something was watching us, waiting.
I stopped in my tracks and looked around, trying to see where that feeling was coming from.
The others stopped too, their faces etched with concern as they looked at me, waiting for me to tell them what was wrong.
But I didn’t know.
I shook my head, trying to clear it, but the feeling wouldn’t go away.
It was almost like a…presence, lurking just out of sight, watching and waiting for us to make a mistake.
But when I looked around, I didn’t see anything.
There was no one there.
“Did you see something?”
Jack asked from behind me, his voice low and concerned.
I turned to face him and shook my head, even though I knew it wouldn’t reassure him.
No, I hadn’t seen anything.
But I knew that didn’t mean there wasn’t anything there.
I knew that it could be waiting, biding its time.
With Jack at my side, I turned back around and cautiously made my way down the street.
My heart was racing, my senses on high alert as I listened for any sign of danger—the low moan of a zombie, the shuffling of feet, or the telltale groan that signaled an attack.
In the months since the outbreak, we had learned how to move quickly and quietly through the city, avoiding detection from both zombies and other survivors who might not be so friendly.
We were good at what we did, and we had survived longer than most.
But that didn’t mean that I wasn’t scared.
My hands were shaking as I gripped my weapon tighter, my breath coming in short gasps as I tried to calm myself down.
Jack must have noticed, because he reached out and squeezed my shoulder reassuringly.
I looked back at him and managed a small smile, grateful for his support.
He was always there for me, no matter what.
And I knew that he would never let anything happen to me.
Together, we would get through this.
Together, we were unstoppable.
I led our group through the debris-laden streets, doing my best to keep my fear in check as we moved closer and closer to our destination.
But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t shake that feeling of unease that had settled deep in my stomach, a warning that something was very wrong.
I swallowed hard, trying to push aside my fear, but it wasn’t easy.
Because I knew that there were things out there, lurking in the shadows, waiting for us to make a mistake, so they could pounce.
The silence was eerie, too complete to be natural, and I clutched my weapon tighter as we hurried down the street, doing my best to ignore the way my heart was pounding in my chest.
But then I heard it—the low, guttural moan of a zombie, and my blood ran cold.
Without a word, I signaled for our group to stop and take cover, my heart pounding so loudly in my chest that it felt like it was going to beat right out of me as I peered around a nearby corner, trying to see where it was coming from.
But when I looked down the street, all I saw were shadows and debris, so I narrowed my eyes and waited, knowing that it wouldn’t be long before they arrived.
Sure enough, a few seconds later, they staggered into view—four zombies in total, their decaying forms illuminated by the faint moonlight that filtered down between the buildings as they lurched toward us with outstretched arms and hungry eyes.
The sight of them sent a shiver down my spine, a stark reminder of the dangers we faced every day as we fought for our survival in this harsh new world.
