One Last Dream

One Last Dream

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WpMetadataReadMaduroEm andamento5h 51min
WpMetadataNoticeÚltima atualização seg, jun 17, 2024
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Ficção
Terror
The year is 2212. Humankind brushed their fingertips upon divinity. Capable of being programmed to remove cancer, heal Alzheimer's, and even cure old age, nanomachines are the heralds of a new age for mankind. But in their eagerness to improve beyond what was necessary, they made a tragic mistake. Now the "Rust" sweeps over the land, changing anything and everything in its path into hellish landscapes of flesh, spare parts, and human organs. A young girl wanders the empty streets of what used to be a bustling metropolis. At night, her dreams take her beyond: To an icy settlement trying to brave the colds of Antarctica amidst dwindling supplies. To an offshore rig colony tossed by the seas while trying to fend off pirates. To an underground dictatorship trying to maintain control over a panicking populace. The girl tries to survive, find meaning and hope in the face of a slowly encroaching wave of terror.
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Elodie's life changes at the turn of a doorknob when she is forced into joining a secret organization that claims to be protecting the Earth from aliens. But with every step she takes, she finds the organization, or the facility, as they call it, becoming more and more suspicious. When a mysterious death occurs, revealing a well-concealed secret, things quickly go downhill as humanity's future is placed on the shoulders of a single gaggle of teenagers. *** I hear a sigh from the other side of the door, "Miss. Chaucer, you have a wonderful opportunity here, are you going to take it or not?" Now, I am seriously confused, "Opportunity?" She takes advantage of my befuddled state and shoves the door open. Shit. The corners of her mouth pull up, and it's so unnatural, it takes me a moment to realize she's smiling. Major plastic surgery? Probably. Click. Did she just lock the door? She locked the door! I spring towards the house phone, dusty from years of doing absolutely nothing, so I can call the police. I don't make it. Halfway there, I trip on my own pant-leg and face plant on the floor. The woman steps over me and retrieves the phone. She looks at it as if it's a foreign object, "This won't be necessary. All I want to do is talk to you." For some reason, instead of screaming, I stay silent. She smiles and pulls out a chair from the kitchen table for me to sit on. When I don't sit, she says, "If you want to know what's going on, then sit." I think about it for a moment. She hasn't hurt me yet, and I have to admit, I am quite curious as to what's going on. So, call me stupid, but I sit down. "I am from a space organization that protects civilians from . . . outside threats." *** Beautiful cover made by @mahana258! HR: 203 in science fiction (5/8/18) Completed on August 15th, 2018 (Indian independence day!) *******This is not a zombie novel

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