The book is about a boy who starts an apocalypse. its only capture 1
START
“Humans are weird,” I thought.
Thinking. Feeling. Screaming without sound.
All of it—freaky.
I stood five hundred feet up, balanced on the skeletal leg of a half-built tower.
No harness. No audience. Just me and the wind.
I wasn’t talking to anyone.
Just myself.
It wasn’t the height that messed with me.
It was the thought.
All those perspectives —
how people see,
how they hide,
how they wear masks made of skin and call it coping,
how they choke on words they never say,
how they set fires inside and call it warmth.
That kind of stuff?
It freaks me out.
Tonight, though...
it hit different.
Like the universe was laughing with me.
Or at me.
The breeze was cold.
But I’d made peace with cold a long time ago.
I flicked the cigarette into the void.
Watched it tumble like a dying star.
Then I stepped off.
WISSSHHHHHHWWWWOOOOOOO—KRAKAKAKAKAK—BOOOOOOOF—
Falling felt like being erased.
First came the cold.
Then the wind—violent, fast, slicing through me.
I couldn’t see.
My stomach flipped like it was trying to escape.
“I know this feeling,” I whispered inside.
Not fear.
Not regret.
Just... surrender.
I let the cold take me.
Let the world blur.
Then—
BANG.
Darkness.
HONK. HONNNNNK. SCREAM.
The world didn’t end in silence.
It ended in noise—brutal, chaotic, alive.
Wait—
A crack in the static.
A thought. Mine?
I creaked my eyes open.
White.
Too white.
Ceiling like a blank page I never asked for.
Sheets stiff—like a body bag pretending to comfort me.
Machines beeped behind me.
Rhythmic. Smug. Alive.
Mocking me with their persistence.
Hospital.
I was alive.
Unfortunately.
But then I saw her.
And the noise inside me changed.
⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡⟡
Somewhere far from the hospital—
A scream tore through the lab.
Not pain.
Not fear.
Something worse.
Like her soul was trying to escape through her throat.
She collapsed.
Skin blistered and peeling like wax under a cruel flame.
Fingernails scattered across the floor—some human, some not.
New ones pushed through, jagged and wrong.
Her lab coat clung to her body, soaked in blood, sweat, and something else—
tears, maybe.
Or whatever’s left when the body forgets it’s human.
Eyes wide.
Mouth frozen mid-howl.
Even her teeth had betrayed her—
some fallen, some replaced by things that didn’t belong in a human skull.
Dead.
Three men stood over her.
Dr. Voss, tall and furious, slammed his fist into the workstation.
Glass shattered. Vials rolled.
Something hissed. Something smoked.
“IT FAILED!” he roared.
“Again!”
Dr. Marek, lean, pale, and calm, didn’t flinch.
His accent—Eastern European, maybe—
carried the weight of repetition.
“We’ll redo it. We always redo it.”
Dr. Klem, short and round, blinked in shock.
“She’s dead,” he whispered.
“Another one. Another human.”
Voss turned on him.
“Did you not see what she became?
We’re not just killers. We’re scientists.”
Mad scientists.
The room stank of chemicals and regret.
Screens flickered.
A chart glowed red: Batch 7 – Incompatible.
Marek adjusted his gloves.
“We need the next batch stronger.
Healthy. Young. Old. Doesn’t matter.
Ages fourteen to forty.”
Voss nodded.
“Men. Women. Just strong enough to survive the shift.”
Klem swallowed hard.
“God help us.”
No one answered.
The machines beeped.
The girl’s body twitched one last time.
Then silence.
Scene: Hospital – After the Lab Cutaway
The guilt lingered in the back of my head.
Sticky. Quiet. Persistent.
We do what we gotta, I told myself—just to make it easier.
“L?”
She stood over me.
Hoodie sagging off one shoulder.
Makeup smudged like she’d cried halfway through a war.
Her tiger brown eyes—glossy, wide, locked on mine.
Worried in a way that made my chest ache more than the fall.
She didn’t speak.
Just stared.
Then—
“You’re a ******* idiot.”
She lunged at me.
Arms open.
“ZACK!”
“Ouch, ouch, ouch,” I groaned.
Everything hurt.
Still, I appreciated the warmth.
Having someone care was… nice.
She backed off.
No words. Just eyes.
Behind those tiger eyes:
Concern.
Anger.
Fear.
She wanted to say things like:
What happened?
Why would you do that?
You ******* *******.
I can’t lose you, *******.
I could only hope she understood what was behind mine.
The look didn’t last long.
A few seconds. Maybe less.
She hugged me again.
Tighter this time.
Then headed to the door.
“Get some rest. You’ve still got everyone to face when you wake up.
Forgot that part, didn’t you?”
“Awww man,” I pouted.
“Ha. That’s what you get, idiot.”
She closed the door like she didn’t want to.
its cool and poetic enjoy WARNING its got suicide stuff plez gev feedback if anyone actually reads chapter 1 of my book