This is my first installment or prologue of my first series of works, The Story of Mikhail Zukov. Keep in mind this is my first story so please feel free to send me any feedback. Thanks!
My name is Mikhail Zukov. I was only 11 years old when the disaster happened. I remember the panic... the screams... and the television. New York, Tokyo, Buenos Aires, all booming as headlines. I remember my Mother... taking me away from the TV leaving my Father to watch the horrors alone. To this day I do not remember what the cause was... only what it caused.
During my early years of living in the Metro people still had hope of someday returning to the surface and... starting anew. Now... *hmpf*... now "hope" is considered a joke. I later grew to be a full- fledged Stalker with the job of scavenging and transporting supplies between stations.
Although, despite my many triumphs I had frequently thought about pulling the trigger at my head and going to live in heaven with God. But if there was even a God he would have saved us all and stopped the world from going to shit. So maybe it would have been better if I went to hell if I pulled that trigger. But then I told myself, "I'm already in hell."
My name is Mikhail Zukov and this is my story.