a bait for death
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- Votes 1
- Parts 3
Ongoing24m
Last published Sat, Dec 20, 2025
Sal is twenty-four, unemployable, and just one debt away from drinking himself into oblivion. Survival has always been his only priority, but lately, that only meant finding the next bottle and dodging the landlord.
Then the sky rips open.
When a colossal, black Door appears above the city and spills out monsters designed for instant, total slaughter, Sal's hopeless life is violently reset. The rules of the old world-debt, job interviews, social standing-are gone. Now, only instinct matters. While others are being chewed alive, Sal finds himself hidden in a garbage can, realizing he's one of the few who survived the first five minutes.
This isn't the end of the world. It's the end of humanity. And for a lowlife like Sal, the collapse of society might just be the only chance he has left to truly survive.
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Code: 213
TEASER: I sit comfortably in my makeshift shelter, planning my next voyage to the surface. Faint footsteps above ground snap me out of my thought. I silently reached to my loaded gun, an SKO Shorty, and carefully pulled back the hammer. I silently crept up the unstable metal stairs, aiming my gun at the door at the top. The heavy metal door creaked. Something was behind it. The door pushes open to reveal a man. A human. He slowly reaches into his pocket and pulls out a crinkled yellow paper. I grab the note, while lowering my gun. I look up only to find the man gone. I unfold the paper. It's hard to make out the words in red ink with the dim lighting of the sewer tunnel. Eventually, I'm able to decipher, "34.0522' N, 118.2437' W". Coordinates. At the bottom of the note, scribbled out in black in, there's one phrase. "Code: 213" *Please note this story includes graphic depictions of blood and violence. This story may not be suitable for all audiences.Complete
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TEASER: I sit comfortably in my makeshift shelter, planning my next voyage to the surface. Faint footsteps above ground snap me out of my thought. I silently reached to my loaded gun, an SKO Shorty, and carefully pulled back the hammer. I silently crept up the unstable metal stairs, aiming my gun at the door at the top. The heavy metal door creaked. Something was behind it. The door pushes open to reveal a man. A human. He slowly reaches into his pocket and pulls out a crinkled yellow paper. I grab the note, while lowering my gun. I look up only to find the man gone. I unfold the paper. It's hard to make out the words in red ink with the dim lighting of the sewer tunnel. Eventually, I'm able to decipher, "34.0522' N, 118.2437' W". Coordinates. At the bottom of the note, scribbled out in black in, there's one phrase. "Code: 213" *Please note this story includes graphic depictions of blood and violence. This story may not be suitable for all audiences.
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