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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 "the hunters." The ones who leech and exploit others "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 · Ficção Científica
Classificações insuficientes
85 Chs

CHAPTER 28

Darkness surrounded me.

Not just the absence of light—the kind of darkness that pressed in from all sides, heavy and suffocating. I blinked, but it made no difference. There was no up or down, no left or right. Just an endless void that felt like it was swallowing me whole.

"Hello?" My voice was barely a whisper, shaky and uncertain. I cleared my throat and tried again, louder this time. "Hello? Is anyone there?"

Silence.

Then, a voice, soft and distant. I told you to save him.

My heart skipped a beat. "Who's there?" I spun around, my eyes straining to see something—anything—in the oppressive blackness.

I told you to protect him.

The voice was closer now, sharp and accusing. I froze, my breath catching in my throat.

"Who are you?" I demanded, my voice breaking.

And then she lunged out of the darkness.