Sci-fi Post Apocalyptic Novels & Stories

I had been asleep from 1975 to 2025. I am the only successful subject to have ever survived a cryonics experiment. Wearing the face of a 20-year-old, I set off to seek out my wealthy younger brother and reclaim my place in the family. But a barrage of comments suddenly appears. "This female lead is stupid. Her brother took her small shop and turned it into a business empire. People change. He doesn't even remember her anymore. Why would he want to reconnect with her?" "Exactly! The Slater family is tearing itself apart over the inheritance. If she shows up, they'll kill her!" "Michael Shaw truly loves her. If she marries him, she'll be happy for life." Just then, Michael drops to one knee before me. "Zoe, the Slaters are too dangerous. Don't go back, okay? Marry me instead. I'll take care of you and protect you for the rest of my life." His words touch me. Before I can reply, I hear his thoughts in my ear. "System, did you post the fake comments?"

Susan Miller, my father's caretaker, often complains that the supplements keep running out. The wild kingroots that are worth 500 thousand dollars are completely used up even though Susan has only made soup with them twice in a row. As I filter through the medicinal residue with a frown on my face, Susan sinks down to her knees and begins slapping herself. "They must have melted in the soup because of my lack of attention! Please dock my pay, Ms. Lawson, but please don't fire me!" But that night, I come across a post uploaded by Susan's son, Roman Cox, on Instagram. "Hi everyone! Today, I'm challenging myself to eat two wild kingroots in one go!" When I see Roman picking up a familiar-lookng giftbox, I feel my temper flaring instantly. Then, I order a packet of potent aphrodisiacs meant for animals on the spot. It turns out that Roman intends to chug down my prized Romanee-Conti in the next episode of his stream. Well then, I'll let him have his feel of drinking something else!

One day, after getting rear-ended outside my office, I, Maeve Dahlman, call out for help, but Austin Cooper, who is simply passing by with Carmen Holt, merely glances at me impatiently, annoyed that I've disrupted their lunch plans. Instead of helping, he has his assistant take me to his private club and lock me in a room, accusing me of being paranoid and dramatic. "I'll give you three days to calm down," he says before walking away and leaving me in isolation. Eventually, I escape and call the police. An ambulance rushes me to the hospital, where doctors diagnose me with a brain injury that requires immediate surgery. I keep calling Austin, only to realize that he has blocked my number. Then, I see Carmen's latest post online, gushing about a romantic luxurious dinner with him. After I'm discharged, I cancel the wedding, destroy all the invitations, and finally call my mother. "Mom," I say, "I've made up my mind. I'm ready to meet him."

After I suffer from a miscarriage, Jude Dixon, my psychiatrist husband, hypnotizes me and seals my memories so that he can take his depressed patient, Maddie Pittman, on a vacation. For the next three months, Jude and our son, Oliver Dixon, keep Maddie company as they travel around together. Once they are finally done with the vacation, Jude decides to unseal my memories. Once again, I become a mother and a wife. But now, I no longer deal with the household affairs, nor do I nag their ears off. At first, Jude and Oliver think that I'm just trying to attract their attention out of spite by playing hard to get. They don't really care about my change in behavior at all. That is, until they see my post on a forum. "Help! What should I do when my memories are back, but my feelings aren't? Heck, I can't even relate to the past me! Right now, I feel super nervous and awkward whenever I'm in the same room as my husband and son! What should I do? Please help me!"

When my roommate learned that getting pregnant in university came with special treatment, she brazenly posted on the campus forum, openly recruiting a "baby daddy." [Requirements: over 5'11", eight-pack abs, handsome, assets in the millions, no bad habits.] Afraid she would ruin her life on a moment of reckless impulse, I snatched her phone, deleted the post, and gave her a serious rundown on the risks and consequences of early pregnancy while still studying. After much deliberation, she was finally persuaded. But a month later, a classmate struck it rich by getting pregnant. She not only married into a wealthy family, but also received a million-dollar childbirth bonus from her in-laws. My roommate was driven mad with jealousy. She stormed into the dorm, shrieking at me at the top of her lungs. "If it weren't for you, I'd be a rich wife by now! You owe me my life!" As she screamed, she stabbed me over and over, venting her rage until I was dead. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day she first posted on the forum, brazenly searching for a baby daddy.

When Lila Monroe, a popular young influencer, goes missing after a late-night livestream, her friends Jade and Amir are thrust into a race against time. Each cryptic message, hidden clue, and mysterious post leads them deeper into a chilling game that blurs the line between reality and the digital world. Lila’s disappearance isn’t random—it’s orchestrated by someone who knows her every move, every secret, and every connection. As Jade dives into the dangerous search and Amir deciphers the digital breadcrumbs, tensions rise, loyalties are tested, and fears long buried come to the surface. Relationships shift under pressure: Jade’s protective instincts clash with her fear of losing Lila forever, Amir’s analytical mind struggles to keep up with the emotional chaos, and Lila herself must confront the manipulator controlling her fate while leaving subtle clues for those who love her. Every decision matters, every moment counts, and one wrong move could mean losing Lila forever. Just when it seems like they’re closing in, the line between ally and enemy blurs—and a shocking revelation leaves them questioning everything they thought they knew. Will Jade and Amir save Lila before it’s too late, or will the darkness surrounding her disappearances consume them all?

Th‍e⁠ir marriage was a transaction.⁠ Th‍eir war was p‍e‌rsonal. T⁠hei‌r pas‌sion was unforeseen. Elara Vega is an⁠ artist whose life i‌s p‌ainted in bold⁠, rebellio‌us colors. When a devastating betrayal by he‌r‍ own family threa‍tens to de⁠stroy everything‍ her⁠ father built, she is‌ given a brut⁠al ch‍oice: sell her‌ freedom to save his le⁠gacy. ⁠Kaelan Sterling is a billionaire fortress of ice and ambit‍ion. To secu⁠re a cruc‌ial merger and shield his empire from a l‌urking threat, he needs‍ one thing: the per⁠fect, unto⁠uchable wife. He doesn't want lo‌ve; he wants a business‍ pa‍rtner. Bound by a cold, clinical contract, they a⁠re‌ enemies from‍ the start. He sees her as a chaotic liability. She sees him as a heartless tycoon. Their for‌ced proximity is a battle of‌ will‍s, fi⁠lled⁠ with sha‌rp word‌s and eve‌n sharper attra‍ction. Bu‍t in t‍he gilded cag⁠es of penthouses⁠ a‌nd high‌-society ga‍la⁠s, a dangerou‍s fire ignites. As a c‍ommon en‍emy closes in, their fa⁠ke r⁠elationship begins to feel terrifyingly real. The lines between strategy and surrender b‍lur. But when hi‍dden truths surface and old‍ wounds are ripped open, their fragile trus⁠t shatt⁠ers. Now, El⁠ara must‌ decide if the man behind th‍e fortune‌ i‍s worth the ultimate risk, and Kaelan must learn that some bonds are too powerful to be broken-even by a billion-dollar contract.

I was on a business trip out of town when I got a text from my neighbor. [Can you and your husband keep it down? Also, one of your undies fell onto my balcony.] Shocked, I opened the photo she had sent. The underwear wasn't even my style, but it matched the one I'd seen in my husband's online shopping cart. He'd told me it was a gift for me, but I remember noticing the size—it was one size larger than mine. When confronted with the neighbor's message, my husband swore that the house must've been broken into and claimed the intruder left the item behind. But something about his story didn't sit right, so I decided to dig further. That was when I stumbled upon his social media. His latest post was just three words. [I bought this.] It was paired with a photo of a lingerie gift set. Beneath it, there was a comment. [I'm wearing it.] Attached was a picture of a woman's legs—and the unmistakable background of my living room. The evidence was undeniable. I packed up the underwear and brought it straight to the police. "My husband says our house was broken into. This was left behind by the intruder, and it might have DNA on it."

While I was watching my own child, I came across an anonymous post online: [My son married way above his station. How can I get him to divorce her?] The poster claimed to be a mother. She said she hated her oldest son, describing him as lazy and selfish, and totally undeserving of such a great in-law family. Her plan was to force him to get a divorce—and then send her well-behaved, obedient younger son in his place as the new son-in-law. The comment section went crazy. [I've seen parents play favorites, but this is just twisted.] [Is the oldest adopted or something? Who schemes against their own flesh and blood like that?] [Are you marrying off a son or pimping one out? Just swapping them in to serve a rich family?] Then, in the middle of all the outrage, one comment surfaced: [Men hate being cheated on. Fake a few photos of your daughter-in-law with another guy and send them to him. Once he loses it, the marriage is as good as over.] The original poster replied immediately: [Thanks, girl! I'll try it right away.] The next second, my phone buzzed. A message from my mom popped up on the screen: [Jason, take a look at this. Do you think Emily is cheating?]

It's Thanksgiving, and I'm waiting for Zeke Jones to come home after cooking up an extravagant meal. When Zeke returns, he doesn't even glance at the meal I've prepared for him. Instead, he proceeds to pack a bag. "I can't celebrate Thanksgiving with you this year," he says. I take another bite of my turkey and say nothing. At the stroke of midnight, Zeke's first love posts a new photo on her social media page. In the photo, she's lying on Zeke's back with a bright smile on her face. The moon outside the window is bright. "Happy to spend Thanksgiving with good company," her caption reads. Instead of hysterically questioning Zeke about the post, I just tap on the "like" button without reacting in any way. Zeke calls me. His voice sounds panicked as he tries to explain himself. "Please don't misinterpret the post. I will definitely spend Thanksgiving with you next year…" I freeze for a few moments, letting out a small laugh. I don't offer him a reply. Next time, he says? Oh, Zeke, I'm afraid there won't be a next time.