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THE LOST : After The End

In a post-apocalyptic world, you'll find four main types of people. Those who fight with all their might are "the hunters." The ones who leech and exploit others are "the pests." The predators, who see everyone as prey. And lastly, we have "the survivors," the resilient ones who never give up. Everyone often fits into one category, but it's hard to determine which one Maya falls into. She's not exactly a fighter, considering leaving her room was a chore even before the apocalypse. A predator? No way—she's always been a pushover. You might think she's a survivor, but that's laughable. She'd rather die from starvation than resort to scavenging. So, how should we categorize her? leeche? Nope. Perhaps a new category is needed: "The Lost"—those struggling to find their place in a shattered world."

Donna_Sheldon · Sci-fi
Not enough ratings
37 Chs

CHAPTER 19

I was next.

My heart plummeted into my stomach as the pastor's voice called my name. My throat went dry, my fingers clutching the blanket like it was the only thing keeping me anchored to reality. Every face in the room turned toward me. Relief flashed across some of their eyes, while others avoided looking at me altogether.

"Maya," the pastor repeated, his voice soft yet commanding. "Come with me."

I froze, my body refusing to obey him. Why me? My mind screamed the question, but my lips wouldn't move.

He tilted his head, his polite smile never wavering. "Come now, child. Don't make this difficult."

I forced myself to stand, legs trembling as I shuffled toward him. The murmurs behind me felt like knives stabbing into my back. They were glad it wasn't them.

But can I really blame them? No one had a clue what the sick psycho of a pastor was doing, but where else could they go?