"We lived in an electric world. We relied on it for everything. And then the power went out. Everything stopped working. We weren't prepared. Fear and confusion led to panic. The lucky ones made it out of the cities. The government collapsed. Militias took over, controlling the food supply and stockpiling weapons. We still don't know why the power went out. But we're hopeful someone will come and light the way." ~ Revolution opening.
"Man this bites!" I thought with anger as I rummaged through a shelf in a grocery store, nothing but random crap. I stood inside of a grocery store up near Trenton New Jersey, why? Looking for food, I was starving.
Ah, maybe you are wondering, who's this tool looting a store? Well, I'll tell you.
My name is Ghost; I am not telling you my real name. Why? I call myself that because of my pale skin and I prefer the safety darkness has to offer, and I hated my other name.
Well, just like I knew it would, the world ended on 2012, not December but close enough. I guess you could say it ended; the power went out, everywhere. I'm not talking a minor power outage in your house I'm talking global power outage, cars, trucks, planes, boats, everything just stopped working.
Nobody was prepared for this, maybe those who prepared for the apocalypse but not many.
Planes fell from the skies and crashed into buildings and homes while boats and ships were stranded on the open seas hundreds of miles away from the nearest piece of land, Cars abandoned on highways and interstates or on bridges.
Seeing how vehicles were inoperative, you had to go places on foot; or on horseback if ya had one, or bicycles or other types of non-electric transport.
And there were a lot of bandits and raiders out there, attacking the weak and defenseless for whatever scrap of food and water they may have.
It's been six months since the power went out and no one can figure how to turn it back on, I think everyone gave up, I'm not sure.
Where was I when it went the world went dark you ask? I was on a plane, I was extremely lucky. Flight 635 from Arkansas to Trenton New Jersey, we were just about fifty feet above the tarmac I think when the plane suddenly just went dark, the screams of the passengers hit my ears louder than a Metallica concert playing with a symphony, the crash was pretty rough as the Pilots couldn't stop us as the breaks were dead and we were headed right for the damn terminal building.
The crash into the terminal building was hard as we went through the building and I'm pretty sure we hit a good number of people. The screams of the people echoed throughout the plane as flames erupted from the back, those back there perished as the plane suddenly split in two spilling fuel and cargo onto the tarmac, the fire hit the fuel and it caused a chain reaction and blew up the back part of the plane and would've blown up the whole thing if the fuel hadn't spilt out, but it did cause a fire to start in the fuel tank.
Everyone scrambled to get out of the plane trampling anyone in their way and of course I was one of them, the second I got out of my seat I was run over by some fool in a suit, smacked me in the head with his damn briefcase.
When I managed to get back up I made a mad dash for the door that popped open on impact, I got out and was thrust into a dark world. The plane was eventually engulfed in flames as I ran out of there, I don't really remember much after that, guess some part of my mind blocked it off for some odd reason.
Well, six months later here I am, rooting through an old store for anything of use.
This is the story of how I experienced the weirdest thing ever.
Third Person Point of view Save-A-Lot Grocery store Trenton NJ.
Inside of this quant Post-Apocalyptic store was an eighteen year old was looting through a store, he stood about five feet eight inches and had a very pale complexion, as if he hadn't seen the light of day in months, or was a vampire but that's not likely as they don't exist… or do they?
He was wearing a tattered blue hoodie and dark blue jeans with hiking boots, on his back was a solid black hiking backpack and a black Nike hat with a custom made symbol above the bill, it was a cross between a Leaf and the letters "N" and "L" to him this meant "New Leaf" why that is, it's because he was seven months ago in jail for robbery, five robberies to be exact, and he stated when he got out that he has turned over a new leaf.
Anyway, seeing how he hadn't found anything worthwhile he picked up his baseball bat and left the store and out onto the sidewalk. It was deserted like most cities and towns, abandoned cars and other vehicles sit on the road, doors opened and stripped of any useful supplies.
Many people, in the ensuing riots caused massive fires everywhere, setting buildings ablaze with the occupants still inside. Flipping cars over in fits of rage or setting them on fire, raiding everything in sight for supplies, or just for the sake of causing anarchy throughout the place. Normally the emergency officials would handle these types of situations, but they couldn't do much without the help of electricity, they could only quell the raging tide for so long.
Ghost yawned tiredly as he began walking north, one of the reasons he was looking for supplies was so he would have enough so he could travel back to Arkansas to see if his family was still alive, so far he had enough for about a week's travel.
The sidewalk was covered in trash, pieces of paper and cardboard, dirt and grime covering the ground and walls. And glass lie in places everywhere shattered to pieces ranging from small bits to large shards.
Most of the cars Ghost passed he would check in case there was anything of value inside, medicine, food, a gun. He wished he had a gun right now, he knew how to use a wide variety of firearms but he hadn't found one, not even a bullet.
He sighed as he looked to the baseball bat he held in his right hand, it was an old wooden baseball bat with a black taped handle and faded words at the top, he had found two months in, it was in a sports outlet store he had come across while looking for help, which he did not find in any form.
He preferred a knife but the bat will serve its purpose, for now.
He looked up the sky and saw the sun was getting close to setting. He had to book if he wanted to get back before dark; that was when the wolves came out. Now you're probably thinking, wolves in jersey, How? Well, you know all the zoos? You know all of those animal activists; well they took advantage of this power outage and let every animal loose into cities worldwide, that added onto the chaos.
Ghost broke into a light jog heading south to an apartment building that was a few blocks away from where he was now; he ran pass several store fronts that had been looted in the early days of the outage, their windows either burned or broke out.
He looked ahead and remembered that there was a collapsed road ahead, caused by a freak earthquake. He turned into an alleyway and broke into a sprint a he tossed his bat over a fence and preformed a parkour move to easily traverse it, he jumped as high as he could and gripped the top on the fence and swung his legs over, he let go and tucked and rolled to avoid getting a serious injury.
He landed safely and grabbed his bat and continued left. "Looks like all that training to escape the Police is coming in handy." Ghost thought humorously, he had trained himself in the art of parkour so he could get in and out of places easily, unfortunately he didn't train enough.
He kept alert in case he should be attacked by bandits or raiders, his bat tightly clenched in his right hand, his left relaxed. Raiders were too much trouble, packing guns and out to kill anyone who even remotely looks like they might have something of value.
He kept a steady pace so he would have the energy should he have to fight off an enemy.
"Apartment's not far now." He thought with mild relief, he just wanted to take a long nap. He had been looking through places all day and he hadn't found anything except a few bottles of Aspirin and Nyquil. "Better than nothing, gives me something to barter with I suppose." He thought frustrated at not finding anything good, he had hoped for some food at least.
The apartment came into view as he exited the alleyways back onto the empty streets; it was a three story building made of red brick with sunk in double paned windows with some covered with large pieces of plywood on the inside, the entrance was a double door painted white that had started to fade about three months in following the outage.
Ghost walked up to the door and pulled out of his left pants pocket a set of keys for the building, a small sliver ring with four keys. One was labeled for front door, it was a small and weirdly enough, a two pronged key. He fit it into the keyhole and turned it clockwise until he heard a click and opened it.
He stepped through it and closed the door and locking it behind him, after that he then looked around the interior and was pleased to see nothing was tampered with and his traps were still in place, several bear traps and trip wires hooked up to some homemade explosives made out of pipes and fireworks. The lobby was bare of all the furniture and moved into defensive positions around the building, if he learned anything from Zombie films it' always block the doors. But there weren't any zombies around, just Assholes.
Most of the lobby was filled with dust and cobwebs and several of the window panes were caked in dirt, light leaked in through the cracks of the plywood showing a stained hardwood floor that had begun to rot. The ceiling had a sizable hole in it that let in the elements, below it was a moderate sized hole that had rotted out and fell through into the basement.
He cleared his throat and proceeded around the hole and up the stairs to the third floor where he had made his "Base" as he called it. It was in a room at the end of a dark hallway filled with trash and rat… shit. The smell didn't bother him much as he grew up in the country with a crap ton of random animals, Cows, Horses, Cats, dogs, pigs, etc.
The doors he passed were all locked or had their locks broken making them useless places to hole up in, but his room had plenty of locks, heavy stuff he scavenged from hardware stores. He pulled out three identical silver keys and went up to the outside locks, only to see that the door was halfway open.
He pocketed the keys and readied his bat. "None of my traps were triggered, and I always close the door when I leave." He thought, somebody must have climbed the building. He crept towards the door and edged it open as it made a soft creaking noise which did not help out with the element of surprise any, a thought crossed his mind. "Wait, if the door is open, then did they leave?" he wondered, he decided to risk it and went inside despite the risk of being shot if the intruder has a firearm.
His base was trashed as it looked like a twister went through it. His storage containers were turned over and his closet was rifled through, everything was ripped open from his bed to his couch and even the few paintings that were on the wall. "Who the fuck?" He heard from behind.
He whipped around and was face to face with a large dark beast of a man standing at six foot seven with a crazed stare, he donned a mechanic's uniform with a nametag that identified him as "Louis" there was also a bloody tool belt around his waist and a large rucksack on his back, in his hands he held a sledge with some fresh blood on in. "Where are ya hiding it boy!?" he yelled at Ghost, hands shaking with anticipation.
Ghost calmly replied to the crazed man. "And you are?"
His crazed look never left as he yelled. "Where are ya hiding it boy!? I saw you carrying something back here, and I want it!" he yelled as he swung his hammer at Ghost to which he merely dodged with little to no effort at all.
"I suggest you lower your weapon before you get hurt." He retorted with an icy tone, his bat firmly in hand.
Louis swung again to which Ghost weaved away from. "Where is it you shit?!" he screamed as he swung again only to hit the wall and make giant hole in it.
Ghost could feel the floor shake with each heavy step this giant took. He cursed himself for choosing such a stupid place to hide out. The floors were already weak when he found the place a month ago but he figured they would hold until he could scout out a better place.
Ghost took advantage of Louis's miss and jumped at him and swung his bat with full force making the giant of a man stumble back, Louis yanked his hammer out as he stumbled back and swung again.
Ghost ducked and did a leg sweep causing the giant Louis to fall onto the already weak floor, Ghost cursed as he felt the floor shake under Louis's weight, the floor started to creak and started to make cracking sounds sounding like it was about to snap.
Ghost was about to make a run for it only for the floor to give out from underneath him, the floor buckled and fell apart and sent Louis and Ghost crashing through the floor and hit the second pretty hard.
Ghost got up but was tackled by Louis and sent through the wall crashing to the floor, his bat rolled away as he accidentally let go. Louis grabbed his hammer and went through the wall after Ghost only to see he wasn't there, confused he looked around and saw no trace of Ghost.
"Where are ya boy?" he asked with a twisted smile. "Pussing out are we?"
Little did he know Ghost had hidden in a room and was behind an entertainment center which held a plasma TV, heavy amounts of dust covered the screen and the coffee table sitting in front of it, Louis entered the room and smashed everything that was in his way. Not much for discreetness is he?
Ghost peeked around and saw Louis rooting through the kitchen cupboards and throwing stuff off of the counters with rage, yelling obscenities and sending small objects flying across the room. Ghost clutched his arm as he injured it in the fall, He looked at his right forearm and what little light there was showed him that there was a rather long diagonal cut going down his forearm with a good amount of blood emanating from it. "Gonna have to patch that up soon." he mentally noted.
Louis had walked over to the windows and smashed them open letting in a blinding light, the light had lit up the room showing several blood stains on the floor and a bloody kitchen knife on the couch. Ghost could see Louis was sluggish in his movements and his left eye was bloodied and held shut, He smirked. "Looks like I may be able to use this to my advantage." He thought, he saw a pen on the floor where he was and picked it up carefully so he wouldn't give away his position. He looked for a good place to throw it and decided on a closet that was conveniently left just a crack open.
He aimed and prayed it would hit, with a small grunt he threw with what limited arm space he had and watched as the pen soared through the air and into the small slit of the doorway, it hit the inside of the closet causing Louis to flinch. Louis turned around and stormed towards the door. "Nowhere to run now punk." He voiced with malice as neared the door.
Seeing how the closet was opposite of the door out of here, Ghost snuck around Louis and headed for the door as Louis had started to smash the door in with his hammer sending splinters of wood in various directions. "Dumbass." Ghost thought with amusement.
Louis must have some sort of mental problem if he fell for something like that, well, it would make sense given the state of the world. Some have serious issues if the power goes out for just a few hours.
As Ghost entered the hall he felt something in the air around him, not a ha-ha something, but a weird chill of sorts. Puzzled he looked around and saw nothing but the moist like interior of the apartment. Suddenly he felt something from behind and he whipped around and saw a firefly. One at first then three, five, ten, then the whole hallway lit up with them. "What the hell?" he exclaimed, baffled as to what he was seeing. The fireflies glow a bright green and made no sound whatsoever as they flew in a synchronized fashion.
The way they were flying around was… mesmerizing a bit, It reminded him of a simpler time when he would go out into his backyard back home with family and catch some in his hand. Suddenly they started flying faster making a weird whirring sound that hit his eardrums causing a stinging sensation. He clamped his hand on his ears as the sound started to increase in pitch until it sounded like nails on a chalkboard, the outlines of his vision started to get blurry and he became lightheaded.
"What the hell is going on!?" he thought with alarm as he fell to his knees, his eyes crossed before he blacked out.
As he lay unconscious the swarm of Fireflies flew towards his still body and covered him head to toe and started to glow a bright white, then vanished without a trace, taking him with them.
Outskirts of Trenton New Jersey Third Person Point of view.
Trenton 15 years later, the streets were overgrown with weeds and the roads were cracked and ruined, and the paint used to designate sides were long faded away from age. The cars sit on the roads with their frame half rusted and their tires flat, windows fogged up or covered with grime. Grass was left to grow and stood five feet tall, and vines overtook some buildings while the elements brought them down into heaps of rubble.
On an old rusty bench with a TV show advertisement sat an seventeen year old dressed in black clothing with a rectangular patch on both shoulders emblazoned with the letter M with a circle going around it and a horizontal line separating the top half which is white from the bottom half which is black, on his left wrist was the same M branded long ago, over the black shirt was a vest made of old homemade leather fashioned into armor that looked like it had seen a lot of battle, around his waist was a belt with a powder horn and a bag filled with ammunition, he wore military boots that were scuffed up and covered in trial dust.
Next to him leaning against the bench was a very old looking musket with the Initials S.W. on the stock, on the mouth of the barrel was a bayonet that was polished and glinted from the morning sun.
The M stood for the Monroe militia and he was one of its conscripted soldiers, his name was Samuel Ward. His loose brown hair would fall in front of his dark green eyes and he had to push it back at times, he refused to cut it any shorter then it is now.
He was supposed to be patrolling the area with the rest of his squad, but he got bored and decided to take a break, normally the others in his squad would have told him to get his ass moving but one problem with that, he scares them. You see, he is very close to being as sadistic as the late Willem Strausser as he enjoys inflicting pain upon his enemies and watching them suffer.
He honestly couldn't care what others think of him, they could all go to hell.
He got up and stretched his stiff limbs elated to feel them loose as he was sitting there for about two hours just staring at nothing in particular. He was about to head back to their temporary base when he heard a weird sound and felt a chill, curious he glanced around but saw nothing but the war torn ruins of Trenton's outskirts, burned out car shells laced with bullet holes and scorch marks.
The ground then started to rumble and a flash of white overtook his senses and momentarily blinded him, he dropped his musket and started rubbing his eyes to try and get them cleared. He blinked a couple of times until his vision started to clear up, and he saw it, lying on the ground in front of him was a person not much older looking then him. It was Ghost, of course Sam didn't know that. He picked up his musket and carefully walked over to Ghost
He clothes were a little too clean for someone who lived in the Monroe Republic. Lying next to him was an old wooden baseball bat with fresh looking blood stains on it, on his right forearm was a long diagonal cut flowing from it.
Sam smiled twistedly at the sight of crimson. "Wonder how he got that?" he wondered with sick glee.
Ghost stirred from where he lay and a thought popped into his mind. "What the hell happened?" as he slowly got up off the ground, only to be shoved back down by someone.
He looked up and saw a teenager dressed in black clothing with the letter M emblazoned on each shoulder with a leather vest over it, loose brown hair hung in front of his face barely covering his dark green eyes. In his hands was a very old looking musket pointed at him. "And who, pray tell, are you?" he asked Ghost in a sinister tone.
Ghost calmly replied, "My name is Ghost." seemingly not fazed by the old looking gun pointed at his face.
Sam scoffed. "Ghost?" he asked.
"I'm not telling you my real name, someone of your stature doesn't deserve to know." he replied, venom lacing his voice.
Sam thrust his bayonet towards Ghost in an attempt to skewer him only to miss as the latter rolled out of the way bat in hand, Ghost countered by swinging wildly hoping to score a hit.
Sam surprisingly back-flipped out of the way and pulled out of his armor a long combat knife that looked insanely sharp.
Ghost prepared himself as this kid looks like he knows how to use a knife, that and his creepy smile freaked him out a little. Sam suddenly bounded forward with the knife in his left hand and his right relaxed. "He's gonna try and grab me." Ghost deduced as he readied his bat, he waited until Sam was just a foot away and then faked a swing making Sam try and weave out of the way, when he did Ghost spun clockwise on his heel and swung his leg under his feet to trip him.
Sam saw this and fell forward and landed on his right hand and brought his left leg up in the air and kicked Ghost, Ghost caught this out of the corner of his eye and grabbed his leg and tried to break it by slamming it on his shoulder only for Sam to swing his other leg up over his head and at his face, Sam used the momentum to kick Ghost sending him a good five feet back forward.
Sam back-flipped once more and landed on his musket with his hands, he got back on his feet and held his rifle at the ready. Only to see Ghost was laughing. "What's so funny?" he asked, a little out of breath.
Ghost wiped some blood away "Haven't fought like that in a while." He replied with a smirk as blood flowed freely from his upper lip. "Nice moves." He complemented.
Sam felt something warm coming from his nose and out his hand there and pulled away and saw blood on his fingers, he felt the top of his nose and felt a cut. "How'd you?" before he could finish, Ghost pulled out from behind his back Sam's knife, fresh blood stained the blade. "Fast hands." He voiced, impressed.
Ghost flipped the knife a couple of times and threw it back to Sam who caught it without a second thought or glance. "What's your name?" Ghost asked.
Sam thought for a moment. "Sam." He replied. "My name Is Sam." He then walked over to the bench and pulled out a handkerchief and placed it on his nose.
Ghost stood near the bench but didn't sit. "What's with the getup" he asked. "RP-ing or something?"
Sam glanced at him and said. "I'm with the Monroe militia." He told Ghost, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Ghost thought for a moment. "Militia?"
Sam scoffed. "Where are you from?" he asked.
"Down south." Ghost responded.
"Texas or Georgia Federation?" Sam questioned.
Ghost looked confused. "Arkansas."
"Left side or right side?"
"Um, Right side?"
"Georgia Federation then." Sam said, nodding.
"Who?" he asked, getting more confused.
"You came from there right?" Sam questioned, wondering why Ghost was acting like he had no idea who's who or what's what. "The Georgia Federation?"
"No, I came from Arkansas, but my plane crashed in Trenton, got stuck there after power went out or something." Ghost explained.
"No shit." Sam said. "Planes haven't worked for Fifteen years, hell nothing has worked for fifteen years. Little late on the news there buddy." Ghost processed this for a minute, staring off into the distance with an odd look on his face.
"Fifteen years? It's only been off for six months!" he nearly yelled.
Sam shook his head. "No, fifteen years. Did you hit your head?" he asked, taking the handkerchief off and smiling slightly at the blood that coated it.
Ghost started to panic a little, his heart-rate sped up and he started to sweat a little. Then a thought popped into his head. "Those fireflies!" as crazy as it sounds they must have transported him here, holy shit.
Sam had put the handkerchief back on his nose, he saw Ghost had a spaced out look of horror on his face, he chuckled before kicking him in the leg. "You stoned or something?"
Ghost then did something he never thought he would do in a million years… he fainted much to Sam's sadistic amusement.
A/n: Alright, I was going to rewrite this because I thought maybe something was wrong with the whole teleportation thing, but then I remembered, this is Sci-Fi, nothing makes sense half of the time. that and spoilers, somehow the nano-mites brought Arron back to life and gave him super powers, whose to say they can't teleport someone to the future?
So yeah, here ya go, tell me what you all think people, should I rewrite this, or keep going? really, tell me, I'm serious.
Also, expect some chapters to Jurassic park and BIA soon, as well as a new story that goes with my group on DA. check it out! :D
Bye! :D