MidReal Story
Echoes of Hope: A Postapocalyptic Journey
Scenario: Dünyada kimse yok
Create my version of this story
The world ended in a fiery blaze.
It was the end of days, and I was one of the few survivors left to tell the tale.
I don’t know how long it’s been since the bombs fell, but I’ve been on my own for as long as I can remember.
I’m not sure what happened to my family, but I have a feeling they didn’t make it out alive.
I’ve been wandering the wasteland ever since, searching for other survivors or any sign of life.
But there’s nothing left out here except for death and destruction.
Chapter 1
The sky is forever choked with smoke from the destruction of our planet, and I can still see the flames in the distance.
It’s a constant reminder of the hell that was unleashed on Earth, and the fact that I’m one of the only people left alive to suffer through it.
I don’t know how long I’ve been out here, wandering the desolate wasteland in search of food and shelter.
Sometimes it feels like an eternity, like I’ve been alone for as long as I can remember.
I often wonder if there are others out there like me, survivors who have managed to make it through the end of days.
But the longer I’m out here, the more I realize that there’s no one left.
The days turn into months, and the months bleed into years, and hope fades away like the distant memories of my past life.
One day, while rummaging through the rubble of an abandoned building, I stumbled upon an old radio buried beneath a pile of debris.
It was a broken relic from a bygone era, but something compelled me to take it with me.
I spent the next few weeks searching for batteries to power it up, and when I finally did, I was met with nothing but static.
I should have known better than to get my hopes up, but something inside me refused to give up on the possibility that there was someone out there trying to contact me.
I tried fiddling with the dials, hoping that maybe I would be able to pick up a signal or two, but it was no use.
I was about to give up and toss the radio into a nearby trash heap when I heard a crackling sound coming from the speaker.
At first I thought it was just my imagination playing tricks on me, but when I turned up the volume and listened closely, I realized that there was definitely something coming from the other end of the radio.
I sat there for what felt like hours, waiting for the voice on the other end to say something.
But all I got was static and silence.
It was like whoever was trying to reach me had given up before they even had a chance to speak.
I was about to turn off the radio and walk away when I heard someone speak on the other end.
"Is anyone there?"
The voice was muffled and faint, like they were talking through a filter of some kind.
It was hard to make out what they were saying at first, but as I listened more closely, I realized that there was definitely another person on the line.
"Who is this?"
I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
There was a long pause before the voice on the other end replied.
I've been alone for as long as I can remember.
The world ended in a fiery blaze, and all that was left in its wake was death and destruction.
The few people who did survive were either killed by the elements or by the remnants of man-made weapons that still littered the earth like so many gravestones in a forgotten cemetery.
I don't know how long it's been since the bombs fell, but I've been on my own for as long as I can remember.
I'm not sure what happened to my family, but I have a feeling they didn't make it out alive.
I've been wandering the wasteland ever since, searching for other survivors or any sign of life.
But there's nothing left out here except for death and destruction.
The only thing that keeps me going is the hope that there are others out there like me, trying to survive in this new world.
One day, while rummaging through the rubble of an abandoned building, I stumbled upon an old radio buried beneath a pile of debris.
It was a broken relic from a bygone era, but something compelled me to take it with me.
Maybe it was because I was so starved for human interaction, or maybe I just needed something to remind me that there was still some good left in this godforsaken world.
Whatever the reason, I knew I had to have it.
I spent the next few weeks searching for batteries to power it up, and when I finally did, I was met with nothing but static.
I should have known better than to get my hopes up, but something inside me refused to give up on the possibility that there was someone out there trying to contact me.
I tried fiddling with the dials, hoping that maybe I would be able to pick up a signal or two, but it was no use.
I was about to give up and toss the radio into a nearby trash heap when I heard a crackling sound coming from the speaker.
Chapter 2
I leaned in closer and listened intently as the voices became clearer and more distinct.
At first, I thought I was imagining things, but as I continued to listen, I realized that the voices were speaking a language that I didn't recognize or understand.
They repeated the same message over and over again, like some kind of broken record that had gotten stuck on repeat. "Hello?
Is anyone there?
Can anyone hear me?
If you can hear this message please respond."
I reached for the dials and tried to adjust them in the hopes of picking up a better signal, and as I did, I stumbled upon another station where a man's voice crackled through the speakers. "Hello?" he said in English.
"Can anyone hear me?"
His voice was clear and steady, like the voice of an angel calling down from the heavens above to deliver a message of hope and salvation. "If you can hear this message please respond."
I could hardly believe what I was hearing.
It had been so long since I'd heard another human voice that I wasn't sure if this was actually happening or if I was just losing my mind.
"Hello?
Is anyone there?"
The man's voice crackled through the speakers again.
"If you can hear me please respond.
We're looking for survivors in the area.
If you're out there please do what you can to make your presence known.
We'll do our best to find you."
"My name is Eliana," I said.
"I'm here.
Can you hear me?"
I spoke the words slowly and clearly, like I was trying to coax a timid animal out of hiding.
There was a long pause on the other end of the line before the man finally spoke up again. "Eliana?
Is that your name?
Eliana…" he repeated the name as if he was trying to commit it to memory.
"That's a beautiful name.