I hope you enjoy this new dark ambient track! If you would like to make a donation, you can buy a 'Super Thanks' on TH-cam or donate here: ko-fi.com/joemathewscomposer Spotify: open.spotify.com/artist/5Le98... Bandcamp: joemathews.bandcamp.com All support is appreciated! Thank you. This music and video is copyrighted.
This is sergeant Davis, I am one of the last of my platoon stationed at… Fort Huachuca in Arizona… we’re down to… oh, 50 men… a handful of civilians, and… a dog. I’ve never seen southern Arizona so damn cold… it’s damn near July and it’s at best broke 70 degrees, thats it… to cold to grow anything, its been nearly 8 years since the attack, and the storm will not let up… it’s been either raining or snowing non-stop since the second year… We’re damn near out of fuel, only a few hundred gallons left… won’t last us but… oh, 7 months at most, we’re down to, 3 5 tons, 2 humvees, one APC, an old Dodge ram… and a cop car. Our armory is smaller than ever, we’re down to 26 M4’s maybe, 9 Beretta’s, ah, one bolt action, and a handful civilians guns, even got a black powder rifle, might be all we’ll have left soon… only got enough ammo for everyone to have 10 rounds in their rifles. We uh, we ain’t gonna last too long here, I think maybe 8 months. Raiders and, people looking for shelter are getting more relentless… the base is the only place with electricity, and clean water… we’ve used most out ammo on em’ before the radio went silent, they ordered us to stay here protect this base, lethal force against civilians was authorized, that was… 6 years ago… last plane to fly overhead droppin small care packages stopped a few months back… we’ve been following those same orders for 6 years, some people left to try and make it back to their families, we uh, gave em’ radios they eventually all went silent, somethin’ got them. more died, gun shot wounds, radiation, mostly suicide… some guy walked out in just flip flops no shirt and shorts… we found his corpse half eaten… by something… there’s new creatures… they don’t come inside, the light deters them we call them toxic ones… some city’s were bombed with gas, instead of nukes, the rads really fuck you up, but the gas… the gas, they fill in clouds of this gas, the people living in those cities are mutated to hell, I can only equate them to zombies, except some of em’ are hyper intelligent, Tucson, and Phoenix are toxic city’s, Some people went up there to scout out everything, tried to see is Pima Air Force base was still operational, place was covered in this black haze, and patches of thick black mold, it was truly… a sight to see. We barely made it back, the ones in there… are damn near indestructible, incredibly intelligent, and they have a hive mind of sorts… I was the only survivor. Now I’m the highest ranking one here. I think… we’re gonna try and find a way around the gas in the cities. Try and go north, try to link up with another base, we’re leaving in a week, loading all the supply’s onto trucks and, leaving. The raiders can have it won’t be nothin’ left for them. I guess we’ll see happens. We’re down to 18 people, this was the worst mistake we ever made… we made it all the way to Nevada, into the mountains, somethin’ worse is out here… we’re not gonna make it, something is hunting us, something we can’t see… if anyone gets far enough in here to find this… I am so sorry… goodbye. I know this probably isn’t that good of a story, but I’m high as fuck, and really tired, thanks for reading my story anyways.
Can't remember when I last saw the sun. It must have been fifteen, sixteen years by now. Our town, a small rural spread in the midlands, was spared the bombs... We were even spared the invisible death, that radioactive fallout.. We didn't know who won the war, we didn't care. We simply thought ourselves lucky, coming out of our shelters and bunkers to find friends and family, Thirteen hundred people, still alive... That was until we realised that the days weren't at all that bright... Ash and dust, a perpetual overcast of hazy twilight. We made due, at first. Our crops were near harvest already, and autumn was on its way. We preserved everything we could, and hunkered down in our homes to wait out the winter. Come next spring, we thought, we will rebuild.. We hunted through the winter, catching wild game. I can almost remember the taste... Spring came, only it didnt feel like it. The snows were relentless, and It wasnt long before we realised the winter would never end. We tried green houses at first, using whatever we could to keep them warm, and powering our lamps with gas generators, car batteries, and homemade generators. That first year was so hard. Some of us had the bright idea to wander south, maybe find somewhere that may have been spared this freezing hell... We never saw them again.. I wonder if they found anything.. The next couple years saw the last of the wild game.. With nothing to eat, the deer and boar died out.. The wolves and wild dogs became visious, desperate. Half starved, they would attack anyone foolish enough to wander out alone and unarmed.. But before long they too dissappeared.. Even the carrion feeders were gone... The only animals we had left were some domestic chicken and pigs, but they were becoming sickly. Unaccustomed to the endless cold, and with not enough fresh food for them, they eventually stopped breeding. We ate them while they still had any meat enough to eat.. The tenth year was the hardest.. Or, maybe it was the eleventh.. With most of our preserves gone, what little food we could grow was barely sustaining us. Our bycicle powered generators were all we had to provide electricity for our greenhouses, but the plants were growing slower and less vibrant by the month. The last few tins of meat and vegetables were hoarded relentlessly, often ending with friends killing each other to attain them. The only meat we could find was in small rodents and vermin, and it wasn't enough. The cold was unrelenting, forcing us to trek further and further from our town to find any firewood. There were only two hundred of us left, by the twelfth year.. All of our elderly and sick had passed on, as had far too many of our younger folk. Most died to the relentless chill. Others joined Hunting parties to venture out, though few returned, and too often with very little, if anything to show for it... Starved of food, of hope, of the sun.. Many of us simply gave up... Stopped trying to stay alive.. So many times I would wake to find another friend, a neighbor, sat alone outside, having simply let the cold claim them.. Some nights I can almost remember what they looked like.. I hardly recognize my face in the mirror.. Those eyes.. My hollow, empty eyes, staring back at me... I almost don't want to look anymore.. But it is the last living face I know I'll ever see... I can't remember when I last saw the sun...
This is good but even with a 3000 megaton exchange, the skies would clear after about 18 months. The problem is of course that plant life would be dead after about 3 weeks and animal life after about 3 months. The main issue then would be the UV rays as most of the Ozone layer protecting us from the sun's UV radiation would have been destroyed in a nuclear war (even a limited exchange). So covering oneself up to venture outside would be necessary (if you survived the darkened skies) The next issue would be chronic shortage of fuel and with no modern pesticides or fertilizers then surviving seeds would give a poor harvest which would be assailed by insects and surviving rodents. Your town wouldn't have escaped the radiation either. Nowhere will.
You described a very haunting truth about what it woud be like for survivors after a nuclear war. A world that was once full of life, beauty of nature, unlimited food water luxury and beaches and partying, and Christmas and Halloween and Easter and shopping and eating out and vacations and music and movies and hobbies and sports and boating and hunting and camping and birthdays and backyard bar b ques and bar hopping and girl watching and bonfires and corn roasts and bike riding and working out and tv shows and concerts are all gone and never to be seen again! A complete transformation to a very depressing dismal lonely crying world!
"На стене заброшенного дома кто-то оставил надпись краской из баллончика - Господь! Когда я умру, отправь, пожалуйста, меня в Рай. Потому что в Аду я уже был".
@@RKOuttathebox absolutely! when it snows outside it's like a different world! especially in a snowstorm or blizzard. not a soul is outdoors and nature FORCES people to go inside. i love it. it's like a desolate and abandoned world!
"Leaving this note here for any survivors who find this house.. people are gathering at a bunker in Oldtown, find hornman's brewery on the northend.. survivors from all over, nearly 200 of us now, we're pooling water food medicine ammunition.. head left down the road from here and take a right at the fork, keep going my friend.. Dont give up."
"PS.... stay away from the second floor.... trust me.... for your own safety, by the grace of god or any of your believing deity, do not go up those stairs"
Note 2: Found tucked into a cracked, leather-bound journal in the same house, its pages yellowed and brittle. "If you're reading this, I hope you made it to Oldtown. I tried. God knows I tried. But the roads were crawling with scavengers, more dangerous than the fallout. Made it as far as the bridge before the storms came. Radiation's worse there - skin burns almost instantly. Had to turn back, couldn't cross. If you're still going, wear anything you can to cover up. Avoid the bridge at all costs. There’s a path through the woods to the south that might still be passable. Praying for you. - S.G."
Note 3, it's written both in ink and a little in blood. "They're here....they're scavenging for food and my flesh. Four of them chased me and cut my arm, and the look on his face was of otherworldly horror..... Watch out, the trails of blood leading away from the bridge are signs of their presence nearby. If you find this, please send help....."
All my hair is gone now and my teeth keep breaking. I’m just going to lie down here and rest a while. In my dreams, I can see my family on the other side of a river that flows through a green field. They smile and whisper to me that nothing is permanent, not even loss.
Blue died a few days ago. He tried to hang on as long as he could. He was a good boy. Gonna miss him a lot. Wish he couldve held on for just a few more days...I found Rabbits this morning.
Day 1: I never thought the world could end on such a bright morning. The sun was out, the streets were busy, and people smiled as they hurried to work. Then, it happened. A single flash lit up the horizon, brighter than the sun, and the air seemed to ripple with heat. The sirens came too late-always too late. I barely had time to dive into the bomb shelter, pulling the heavy door shut as a wave of thunder rolled over the city. My ears rang, my chest tightened, and my mind screamed with thoughts of the life I’d just lost above ground. Day 3: The sky turned gray and stayed that way. Radioactive ash falls like snow now, coating everything in a sickly, silent blanket. My supplies are holding, but the air smells wrong. Every breath feels like it could be my last. I try to remember the laughter of my friends, the sound of music, but all I hear is silence. The world above is gone-just a wasteland now. I wonder if anyone else survived. Day 10: The food tastes like ash. Or maybe that's just my tongue. My throat burns from the air, even through the filters. I ventured out today, just for a moment. The buildings stand like charred skeletons, their windows staring down at me like empty eye sockets. I saw a dog-or what was left of one. Its fur had fallen out, and its eyes glowed faintly in the twilight. I ran back inside and locked the door, but I can still feel its gaze. Day 30: I stopped marking the days on the wall. What’s the point? Time doesn’t mean anything anymore. I found an old photograph of my family in my coat pocket-smiling faces, a sunny day. I cried until my throat ached, but no tears came. The ash has taken even that. Day 90: The water ran out yesterday. I have to leave, but where will I go? The city is dead, and the roads stretch into nothingness. Still, I pack my bag and prepare for the journey. The shelter feels like a coffin now-cold, dark, and silent. If I stay, I’ll die. If I leave, I might find… something. Day 120: The wasteland is endless. I walk for hours, days, weeks-time is a blur. The wind carries the ash in great swirling clouds, biting at my skin and stinging my eyes. I found an old can of beans in a burned-out gas station. It tasted like metal and dust, but it kept me going. I don’t know why I keep walking. Maybe there’s someone out here. Maybe there’s hope. Day 150: Today, I saw it. A house, standing alone on a hill. Its windows are black and empty, its roof half-collapsed. Snow swirls around it, or maybe it’s ash-I can’t tell anymore. The road leading to it is cracked and broken, disappearing into the horizon like a thread unraveling from the world. I stand here now, staring at it, my breath fogging the air. It feels alive, somehow. Watching me. Judging me. I wonder if I should go inside. Maybe it’s a trap. Maybe it’s salvation. Maybe it’s just another empty shell, like everything else. The wind howls, and the ash dances around me like ghosts. I take a step forward. If this is the end, at least I won’t face it standing still.
It's always been relevant since nuclear arms became a thing. Except the fact that survival past a year with the best outcomes, would be impossible on this earth if a nuclear war would occur. There is no survival from nuclear war, so many people are wrong about survival after. All life would be dead on the planet.
I couldn't tell you the last time I saw the sky's blue hue, or felt the warmth of the sun beaming against my skin. I couldn't tell you the last time I saw a smile on someone's face, or heard the joy of laughter that did not trail behind sorrow or insanity shortly after. This world- our world, once flourished with vegetation, breathing with life other than our own hated existence. The sins of man bore into each of our souls the day we saw the flash. It was a blessing to have died that day than to have endured what followed thereafter; a blessing I, and many others never received. I've watched humanity crumble beneath the weight of war, I've witnessed the cruelty in a man that is hungry, I've watched as memories fleet away like sand slipping through your fingers. There is no hope left in a world desolate and laid to ruin. This place- this world- This is Hell... Our gods have long abandoned us here, for this is our punishment. Forever shall we roam aimlessly into reckless abandon.
@sodman1987 I bid my utmost apologies, your highness! I did not remember that you were a somebody to anybody. Perhaps just read and appreciate the writings posted here instead of making it a personal matter.
Красиво написано. Назвать все это наказанием - тоже норм. Только вопрос: за что наказана вся другая жизнь на Земле: растения, насекомые, рыбы, птицы, животные? Думаю, будет логичнее не вплетать во все эти дела богов, а ограничиться лишь человеческой злобностью и тупостью. И ещё: после такого, вечно скитаться не получится. Получится только помучится некоторое время от боли и страданий и вымереть.
It has been a long time since the bombs fell. I can still hear the sirens going off but giving little or no warning. The outdoors are a bleak defining cold- with next to no life. I saw the library of where I used to go in my youth. It was nothing but a hollowed out shell now. The main drive in my home city had nothing left but ruin. The bowling alley, the gaming store, the drug store, every business that meant something to someone- just gone. The buildings were still there but there wasn't much left. City hall had about 40 people- and if it wasn't the horror of the bombs going off- it was going to be the stark cold death that was going to set in. I'm telling you this because I don't even remember what the sun felt like or how we even got to this point. All I can remember from what happened is that how we got to this point was a mistake. A mistake that could have been prevented. I saw the other 40 people and met them- some had lost family members, friends, beloved pets, or someone close to them. The despair on their faces said it all. They didn't want this day to ever happen. Not one of us did and there was plenty of blame to go around and I'm not talking about normal people who would never act like this. No one really knows who is or was responsible. We had basic resources and held out hope that we could contact whoever would still be alive around our area instead of the hopelessness that would set in. I remember looking out one of the city hall windows and just remember the stark cold death that was upon us and with everything the way it looked. We found a small area behind the building where we could bury the bodies of those who had passed on from this. Maybe the minute that I found these 40- that there was a small glimmer of hope- to know that I wasn't alone and neither were they. I am going to lie down in one of the cots here- it isn't much- but I really don't care. What we took for granted- now we regret having ever done so. How did we get to this point? I just hope that we can rebuild- that is- if there is anything left......
I almost can't remember a time when the world was anything other than what it is now. A cold, lonely void that goes on forever, with all the same lonely, emptiness in every corner of what's left of existence. That emptiness seems to devour time itself. Every minute, then every hour, then every day, then, before you know, a year. Gone. Gone like it never even existed in the first place. No point in wishing to have that time back because the future is identical to the past.
December-15-2028 "Most people ignored the signs that something was coming. Smart people prepared, enough as they could anyway. Being so close to DC, Virginia was in pretty bad shape after the attack. Those who survived hunkered down in basements or old fallout shelters, some old towns still had. It's been almost two years now. Winter is here and colder than ever. We've read makeshift signs on the road reading the promise of shelter, food, and safety... Or it could just be a trap. Food is always a problem, and cannibalism is the greatest fear. My family and I are almost near this abandoned farmhouse, it looks like. Could keep us safe from the elements, at least for tonight. One mag left for the AR and two for the pistol. Hope I don't have to use any upon entry. If anyone ends up reading this, just know. You didn't deserve to live in a world like this.. The greedy politicians that were supposed to protect us lost interest in that long ago.. Survive and keep going. We're nearly at the door now, enough writing for today."
This world has never been my home. As far back as I can remember , I knew I would live to see the world in ruins. Please father , I know your with me, but I’ve never felt so alone. Can I come home now?
I remember once a few years back when my city had an overcast for like 40 straight days. For more than a month, I coulnt see thew sun. It was either overcast or rain, all the time. After the 40 days, the sun appeared for like 2 days and then, another overcast for like a week more. In that week I tought on ending myself just for the fact I couldnt see the blue sky. I never got that type of thinking before or after that. God forbid living in a grey hell.
"I was 23 when WWIII broke out. I remember fighting in the fields, bleeding in a building bombed to hell and back, and I remember thinking nothing could ever top this. Then the bombs fell.... and everyohe quickly realized that we had been condemned to a fate worse then anything Hell could possibly come up with. A world gone Hell, dead and buried"
It has been three years since the bombs fell, and the world was lost. Three years since I last saw the clear sky, felt the warmth of the sun. I don't think anyone expected the winter to set in so quickly. But here we are, in the cold and the wind. Saw some other survivors heading south a few days back. A few dozen of them, carrying every weapon and bit of food they could. Said they were heading south, towards what used to be the tropics. I wished them luck. We all need luck at this point. Everything still looks so dreary and depressing. But I'm holding onto hope. I've been carrying one of those thermometers that used to be on the side of a house. It's a small difference, but each day is warmer than the last. Some of the clouds above me look thinner than before. The world is healing. I can only hope that whatever humans remain don't make the same mistakes we did before.
“There are scars left, but passing by, not looking for them, you don’t notice. The grass is green again, sky is mostly clear. It’s only when you ask the old, the wise, ask them, ‘what was the Postwar Time like?’. That’s when you get answers. That’s the people who learned the lesson of society’s mistakes.”
"It's not as cold here. I like that. But... I remember, all of a sudden, that I used to say 'I have to keep going. I have to find out what happened. I have to find others.' I don't remember the last time I said any of those things. I think it's autumn. Hard to say. It seems darker lately. Maybe I'll just stay here a while..."
Great illustrative music. It captures the atmosphere very well. I like this kind of mood and it was nice to indulge in thoughts with these sounds. In addition, the image is well chosen. A dead view, an echo of the past, things that can no longer be recovered and everything in depressing colors. It would fit as an OST for some game or movie.
@@DarkStormProduction5 The music definitely gives more Metro vibes, especially in the first Metro game where you go to the surface and explore for the first time.
Been reading the short stories a lot of you have posted in the comments to accompany this haunting scene and ambiance. I'd heartily recommend the 1980s British film called "Threads". It's one of the most harrowing and, being British originally, starkly plausible and identifiable, depictions of the post-fall Nuclear apocalypse I have ever seen. It has no happy ending and leaves you feeling lost and full of despair.
I am so tired. I walk and I starve, waiting for the echoes of a dead civilization to save me. There is no hope, only misery encased in a white blanket. Yet, let me walk a little longer. Till I find a place to rest. I am so tired.
I found a young couple embracing each other in their last moments of life. I didn’t know them in life. But i broke down and weeped for their souls. I prayed to God for this madness to stop. The holnest army is converging on my location. I dont think they know i’m here yet. I better stay put and keep quiet.
Great work! This is outstanding. The tense music and the wind create such a wild, vast sound. It reminds me of walking the plains of West and North Texas.
I know you’re gone. I know you’re in the ashes blowing over some ruined landscape far away from here. I look for you anyway. I look for you as the cold ashes scour my face.
"This is not the end, but a new beginning. An era dominated by the cold chill of despair in the wind, with no one alive nor willing to carry its legacy."
I lost count on how many years it has passed since the great war. All that remains now are the silhouettes of what was once the epitome of humanity's greatest accomplishments. Walking with no destination just following the wind punching through the clouds trying to to prevent the light from piercing through , I'm always wondering what will become of me. Should I end it all or just keep going?...
"I sprained my ankle trudging through the snow a few days ago. I tried to yell out in pain but the cold stole my voice. It made me realise that i hadnt heard another voice in a very long time. And how much my ankle has swollen reminds me that I never will."
oh, there actually is one of those, look up "4 hours of relaxing city rain at night", (the top result will most likely be the right one) and go to 1:39:30
Today will mark the 5th anniversary of that day...At first, it was the best day of my life. No laws, no people, no drama...just me and the nuclear ash of what use to be the world I resented so much... I won't say I wish it was back to normal, but the lack of family and friends has already hit me, my life isn't over...but the world as we knew it definitely is. I travelled 10 states and am right now in the snowy remnants of Connecticut, I was thinking of sifting through some city ruins...but when I got to whatever the first town was...it was just a hole in the ground, poor bastards must've been ground zero...then again, maybe they're the lucky ones. I need to reach Chicago, that's where He is...if he's smart and heeded my advice, my Brother will have done the same thing I did and successfully survived both the blasts and the Radioactive aftermath. Knowing him, he's already in charge of a group of raiders, I don't know what I'll do when I find him...but I need to find him. I already witnessed the rise of a Faction, they didn't attack me, but they definitely made it clear that I was not to oppose them...Never thought I'd see "The Brotherhood of Steel" in real life, but there they were, in New Mexico, grabbing every book they could find and any technology that wasn't nailed down. I know there are more survivors, and I already confirmed which of my friends survived...but I couldn't stay, I NEED to get to Chicago...that's where he is...Dead or Alive...I WILL find him...
@@MrAlio101 Thank you, I always feel good about my writings. I'm even doing some Fanfics if you're curious to check them out? (Though some of them get a bit goofy, just a fair warning.)
Why would the BOS be in Connecticut right after the Great War? They stayed at Mariposa for a while before actually moving out to that bunker and then the rest of America. And your character is in for a heap of trouble if he even makes it to Chicago, that's Enclave territory.
@@CDTyphol the story I wrote is based in our universe...not Fallout's. I'm saying there's a group that became what the Brotherhood of Steel is in the game, not the actual Brotherhood of Steel FROM the games.
What day is it, I wonder? It has been so long since I had to consider that. Not that the answer really matters, anymore. These days I have little time for questions beyond those of survival. Where is my next meal, my next drink? How shall I acquire it? Will it kill me? Is the next cold spell going to be the one to usher me beyond, to the rest of the people I once knew; can scarcely remember? Distraction is death in this cold and lonely world. There is little space for rumination in these times. How many times have I learnt this lesson; how close it has brought me. And yet, the mind wanders, of it's own accord. Despite my best effort, it wanders. I think back to oh so long ago, whenever that was, and see nothing but colour. Even the darkest of times had some vibrancy to them. There was light, somewhere beyond them. But those days are gone now. The horizon is still there, always before me. But what is beyond there? Is it worth this arduous battle? No. Too much thought. Think no more upon it; look only ahead. Always ahead. The world may be gone, but the horizon is always there. Waiting for me. That is enough, that is enough.
If someone is reading the war ended and we are still somehow surviving in this wasteland. To everyone who still did not lose hope, DON'T GIVE UP EVER! Survive be strong find shelter, the winter will be long but we need to hold on try your best in those times and be careful of the mutants many souls were lost fighting them and more are fighting for their lives. GOD BLESS US ALL!
the snow crunches under my boots, as it blows and obscures the highway. It feels like ages since I've seen my travel partner's face, even though he trudges along beside me- as it's been for the last week or so. As we walk, i try to strain my neck, the aching muscles braced against the weather, to see his face, and to my relief it's still there beside me. If i could register his expression, i'd be sure it was as dour as mine, as it was when we'd left the Bordon encampment, but it's been too long a stretch of exhausting movement. And yet it continued, the pair of us needing a rest but denying ourselves a simple collapse amidst the powerful drifting winds- even in the emptiness of exhaustion, we knew it would mean an abrupt end to us. The thought, however, a simple spark within, became evident: Why Us? Why was it me, my partner, the thinly spread collections of those like us, surviving out in this horrid aftermath? It would have been easier, it should have been us amidst the countless millions perished, that's how we were always told it would end- And yet we continue. the teakettle strapped to my pack bounces on the thin coat of frost behind me. I don't notice until the structure looms to our right, beckoning us with the sweet promise of it's dark walls, blinding blindness amidst the void of the blizzard. I turn, thinking my partner will walk on into the structure unnoticing of my absence but i feel a tug at my blanket wrap. A panicked tug. I back up, still not registering his face underneath the wrappings, but the density of the situation was enough to tell me we both knew it was a bad idea. As much as it was a mistake to keep surviving, we couldn't keep doing so without each other. No matter how fruitless it'd be, when our time would come, that would be it. It would be out of our control when that would be though. And yet we continued.
"My great grandfather was barely fifteen when the nukes were dropped and more than five billion people died as a result. From the things he told us as kids, I'm surprised civilization bounced back within two generations."
Eh. Drones are cheaper and cause less international outcry. Also yes, it is possible to shoot ICBMs out of the sky. The day the drones came - now that was terrifying.
"The roofs gone but the shed might still be dry." A man speaks to himself as he slowly plows his bicycle through a muddy dirt road. The snow almost blinding his eyes through the narrow slits of a well worn t shirt tied like a shemag around his face. He came to a stop outside the desolate stone farm house. Without question some 400 years older than they were and poked his head through the open doorway. "I'd wager this was a nice place at some point." Once again speaking to himself as the sound of his own voice was muffled by the driving snow and wind. The open plains allowing both to rampage through the ancient domicile. "I hope I'm not the only one left. There's not even a guest book for me to sign!" He proclaimed with a smile at the stoney wall were a carving read "Edgar Loves Maud" he read aloud as his gloved hand traced under the words. Back outside he grabbed his bike and the bags and equipment strapped to it. The shed in back did indeed have an intact roof. Albeit pitted with small holes. The door was jammed but with multiple shovels he was finally able to breach it. "This pizza parlors no pushover." He had heard that line once before. Where though he couldn't recall, too much time had passed. Dragging his bike inside and forcing the door into place once again he found himself for once, out of the wind.
Here I lay. A destitute man. I fought for my beliefs. For freedom. For whatever that was worth I came to this land far from my home believing I was doing something good. What has that given me but pain and sorrow. My men lay around me, bleeding, dying and in agony. Now only I remain. I hear the tanks closing in, I feel the vibrations in the floorboards of this ruined hovel. I can do nothing to stop them. Forgive me Sonya. Brothers, I will see you soon…
“But where are we going, what will we do when we get there?” he said to the man walking alongside him. “We prepare.” “For what? What are we going to do to prepare?” “Sit and wait.” “That’s not preparing.” “It’s all we can do.” “Sitting and waiting is doing nothing, not preparing …” “No, doing nothing would have been to stay back there, back where we started from, back in the rubble. We could have stayed, could have scavenged among the ruins, could have found stray dogs to eat. You ever had dog? No, neither have I, and I don’t want to. So we are walking. We are taking this walk. Get it?” “Won’t we have to do the same, scavenge and kill, when we get there?” “Maybe. I don’t know.” “And aren’t they just going to come for us there, too?” “They’ll go anywhere we are. They would have turned back around and done another sweep back there, and again, and again until they found us.” “So why are we walking? Why not just give up?” “They cannot be everywhere at once. If we keep moving, they might keep missing us.” “Or they’ll get us-“ “Or they will. But that’s a perhaps. It’s a certainty they’ll do so if we stay put.” “Do you know how far we’ve walked?” “No.” “Do you know how far we have to go?” “No.” “Do you know where this place is?” “No. Sort of. We’ll get there.” “And then we sit and wait …” “And hope that they miss us. And hope that they go elsewhere. There is no telling what they’ll do, what they’ll try, what their methods will be. It’s a matter of luck. Just pray we get lucky.” “Pray to a god that has clearly forsaken us.” “Perhaps He’s forsaken us because we no longer pray. Keep moving.” It was a long walk. Tens of miles. Hundreds of them? Neither could tell. Did hours pass, or days? Or weeks? Green forests turned to verdant fields. Verdant fields to rotting bogs. Rotting bogs to green forests. Then they arrived. “It’s like I imagined,” said the man. “You must not have a very good imagination…” “Go in.” “You first.” The man entered. The other followed. “Find a corner, I’ll stay at the entrance.” “Yeah, setting me up to be cornered, I get it…” “Shut up. Do it.” The man, the sentry, looked outward through the opening. For the first time, a sense of fear washed over him. He couldn’t tell why. “What’s the problem?” asked the other. One does not realize how loud the emptiness of a manless world is until all goes quiet. When the birds stop chirping, the chipmunks cease chattering, the wind finishes running its fingers over the leaves and pine needles. All became still. The trees halted their flitting, shaking abstract dance. Frogs half-croaked. Then, nothing. “This is it.” The sky grew dark.
Recently, I stumbled upon an empty can and picked it up; brushed it off. It used to contain peaches, and was sealed 70 years ago in a different world than I know now. I keep it with me and study it sometimes. Glossing over the list of nutrients, I try to remember what peaches tasted like. They're all gone now, of course. Being a botanist, I know that to thrive and produce good quality yields, peach trees need to live in hot summers of full daylight. The very fruits that were in this can were basking for weeks. Turning my head up and closing my eyes, I can almost feel it.
"Where's my house you say? Well, listen close, it's just outside the town. Keep going down the main road, go past the remains of the gas station and then turn left. That's where you'll find my old house. It has no roof now, all the windows got blown out, and the paint job Dad and I did the week before the bombs fell is long gone. Around the back is where I buried him, mom and my sister. The second floor is where i've set up a shrine for them all, and the ground floor's been stripped clean of anything useful. Not even copper wiring. ...God, you know, it's been, what, ten years or so, and I'm still shocked how the aftermath of our so-called end of the world is so...quiet. Like, as soon as the shockwaves rolled over, it was all quiet. As soon as the riots in the town stopped, it was beyond quiet. Silent, even." "It was as if it turned off the natural sound of the world..."
"The neon grey sky hung over our heads like a dismal reminder that we once had a blue oasis. Constant storms plague the landscape as the stench of decayed civilization harasses the nostril. Our wasted lineage. The bloodline of foolish bald apes. A Species of Nothing..."
"This is nothing like the movies. No Vaults or bunkers, no group of people who work together to save us, it's just me and the consequences of humanity actions"
"The war they promised would never come did come. In ten minutes, every bit of man kinds technology, and ninety percent of mankind were gone. In almost a blink of an eye, we had gone from being capable of walking on the surface of the moon to being afraid to walk outside the front door. The smart ones promised nuclear winter. No. Just fires. Endless fires. And the lonely howl of wind blowing the gray snow." Journal, page 1 of 6, 2027.
Это перезагрузка.всего мира к которому мы привыкли наказание людям .и выжившие должны построить что то другое .уже без войн границ оружия итд.Мир созидания и развития
When I stepped outside, the sun was shining, wrapping me in warmth like a comforting hug. I strolled through laughter and light, feeling like nothing could touch me. But now everything is in snow, and it feels so heavy and lifeless. The sun is just a distant memory, and hope seems out of reach. I can’t escape this coldness, Why is this happening to us.
I read it knowing I can't ask forgiveness. God is evil and to give into him would be a front to justice. Though at times I wish to be saved, I must soldier on and do what's right and fight Heaven's evil reign.
"She was gone and the coldness of it was her final gift. She would do it with a flake of obsidian. He’d taught her himself. Sharper than steel. The edge an atom thick. And she was right. There was no argument. The hundred nights they’d sat up debating the pros and cons of self destruction with the earnestness of philosophers chained to a madhouse wall. In the morning the boy said nothing at all and when they were packed and ready to set out upon the road he turned and looked back at their campsite and he said: She’s gone isn’t she? And he said: Yes, she is." -Cormac McCarthy, "The Road"
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Dreamy
where you got the Image?
If I had a job I'd send money, but I'm not up all night enjoying my solitude......
I remember when I was younger and would go to bed in my skidmark stained batman underoos
God bless
@@3dguy839 We've all been there
"I'm not sad, i am... just tired. Tired of all of this. Tired of being tired.."
ah yup. We aren't supposed to be living this way.
Damn I feel this way existentially now, and the nukes even haven't fallen yet...
Проверь уровень витамина Д
I am sick and tired, of being sick and tired
As someone with a autoimmune disease...this resonates but only strengths me thank you for this quote 🙏
This is sergeant Davis, I am one of the last of my platoon stationed at… Fort Huachuca in Arizona… we’re down to… oh, 50 men… a handful of civilians, and… a dog.
I’ve never seen southern Arizona so damn cold… it’s damn near July and it’s at best broke 70 degrees, thats it… to cold to grow anything, its been nearly 8 years since the attack, and the storm will not let up… it’s been either raining or snowing non-stop since the second year… We’re damn near out of fuel, only a few hundred gallons left… won’t last us but… oh, 7 months at most, we’re down to, 3 5 tons, 2 humvees, one APC, an old Dodge ram… and a cop car. Our armory is smaller than ever, we’re down to 26 M4’s maybe, 9 Beretta’s, ah, one bolt action, and a handful civilians guns, even got a black powder rifle, might be all we’ll have left soon… only got enough ammo for everyone to have 10 rounds in their rifles. We uh, we ain’t gonna last too long here, I think maybe 8 months.
Raiders and, people looking for shelter are getting more relentless… the base is the only place with electricity, and clean water… we’ve used most out ammo on em’ before the radio went silent, they ordered us to stay here protect this base, lethal force against civilians was authorized, that was… 6 years ago… last plane to fly overhead droppin small care packages stopped a few months back… we’ve been following those same orders for 6 years, some people left to try and make it back to their families, we uh, gave em’ radios they eventually all went silent, somethin’ got them. more died, gun shot wounds, radiation, mostly suicide… some guy walked out in just flip flops no shirt and shorts… we found his corpse half eaten… by something… there’s new creatures… they don’t come inside, the light deters them we call them toxic ones… some city’s were bombed with gas, instead of nukes, the rads really fuck you up, but the gas… the gas, they fill in clouds of this gas, the people living in those cities are mutated to hell, I can only equate them to zombies, except some of em’ are hyper intelligent, Tucson, and Phoenix are toxic city’s, Some people went up there to scout out everything, tried to see is Pima Air Force base was still operational, place was covered in this black haze, and patches of thick black mold, it was truly… a sight to see. We barely made it back, the ones in there… are damn near indestructible, incredibly intelligent, and they have a hive mind of sorts… I was the only survivor. Now I’m the highest ranking one here. I think… we’re gonna try and find a way around the gas in the cities. Try and go north, try to link up with another base, we’re leaving in a week, loading all the supply’s onto trucks and, leaving. The raiders can have it won’t be nothin’ left for them. I guess we’ll see happens.
We’re down to 18 people, this was the worst mistake we ever made… we made it all the way to Nevada, into the mountains, somethin’ worse is out here… we’re not gonna make it, something is hunting us, something we can’t see… if anyone gets far enough in here to find this… I am so sorry… goodbye.
I know this probably isn’t that good of a story, but I’m high as fuck, and really tired, thanks for reading my story anyways.
Brilliant!
I mean I thought it was pretty badass
Can't remember when I last saw the sun.
It must have been fifteen, sixteen years by now. Our town, a small rural spread in the midlands, was spared the bombs... We were even spared the invisible death, that radioactive fallout.. We didn't know who won the war, we didn't care.
We simply thought ourselves lucky, coming out of our shelters and bunkers to find friends and family, Thirteen hundred people, still alive...
That was until we realised that the days weren't at all that bright... Ash and dust, a perpetual overcast of hazy twilight.
We made due, at first. Our crops were near harvest already, and autumn was on its way. We preserved everything we could, and hunkered down in our homes to wait out the winter. Come next spring, we thought, we will rebuild..
We hunted through the winter, catching wild game. I can almost remember the taste...
Spring came, only it didnt feel like it. The snows were relentless, and It wasnt long before we realised the winter would never end.
We tried green houses at first, using whatever we could to keep them warm, and powering our lamps with gas generators, car batteries, and homemade generators.
That first year was so hard. Some of us had the bright idea to wander south, maybe find somewhere that may have been spared this freezing hell... We never saw them again.. I wonder if they found anything..
The next couple years saw the last of the wild game.. With nothing to eat, the deer and boar died out.. The wolves and wild dogs became visious, desperate. Half starved, they would attack anyone foolish enough to wander out alone and unarmed.. But before long they too dissappeared.. Even the carrion feeders were gone...
The only animals we had left were some domestic chicken and pigs, but they were becoming sickly. Unaccustomed to the endless cold, and with not enough fresh food for them, they eventually stopped breeding. We ate them while they still had any meat enough to eat..
The tenth year was the hardest.. Or, maybe it was the eleventh.. With most of our preserves gone, what little food we could grow was barely sustaining us. Our bycicle powered generators were all we had to provide electricity for our greenhouses, but the plants were growing slower and less vibrant by the month. The last few tins of meat and vegetables were hoarded relentlessly, often ending with friends killing each other to attain them. The only meat we could find was in small rodents and vermin, and it wasn't enough.
The cold was unrelenting, forcing us to trek further and further from our town to find any firewood.
There were only two hundred of us left, by the twelfth year..
All of our elderly and sick had passed on, as had far too many of our younger folk. Most died to the relentless chill. Others joined Hunting parties to venture out, though few returned, and too often with very little, if anything to show for it...
Starved of food, of hope, of the sun.. Many of us simply gave up... Stopped trying to stay alive.. So many times I would wake to find another friend, a neighbor, sat alone outside, having simply let the cold claim them.. Some nights I can almost remember what they looked like..
I hardly recognize my face in the mirror.. Those eyes.. My hollow, empty eyes, staring back at me... I almost don't want to look anymore.. But it is the last living face I know I'll ever see...
I can't remember when I last saw the sun...
Thanks. That was very good
This is good but even with a 3000 megaton exchange, the skies would clear after about 18 months. The problem is of course that plant life would be dead after about 3 weeks and animal life after about 3 months.
The main issue then would be the UV rays as most of the Ozone layer protecting us from the sun's UV radiation would have been destroyed in a nuclear war (even a limited exchange). So covering oneself up to venture outside would be necessary (if you survived the darkened skies)
The next issue would be chronic shortage of fuel and with no modern pesticides or fertilizers then surviving seeds would give a poor harvest which would be assailed by insects and surviving rodents.
Your town wouldn't have escaped the radiation either. Nowhere will.
You described a very haunting truth about what it woud be like for survivors after a nuclear war. A world that was once full of life, beauty of nature, unlimited food water luxury and beaches and partying, and Christmas and Halloween and Easter and shopping and eating out and vacations and music and movies and hobbies and sports and boating and hunting and camping and birthdays and backyard bar b ques and bar hopping and girl watching and bonfires and corn roasts and bike riding and working out and tv shows and concerts are all gone and never to be seen again! A complete transformation to a very depressing dismal lonely crying world!
Brilliant!
@@vincentlussier8264 And here we are, a snail on the knife's edge, waiting for a false flag to trip the wire, 15 nanoseconds from midnight
"На стене заброшенного дома кто-то оставил надпись краской из баллончика - Господь! Когда я умру, отправь, пожалуйста, меня в Рай. Потому что в Аду я уже был".
Гонишь... не гони....
Фантазер😊
И че
May we never realize this horror. Much love from America. Peace be with you.
Похоже на отсылку к игре Fallout. Если так - очень в тему )
There is something oddly peaceful about the music and picture, but then again I love the cold and snow.
I know the feeling. I've always been drawn to winter!
@@joemathewscomposer4432 For me it is the stillness of everything and the briskness of the air, looking forward to the depths of winter.
@@RKOuttathebox absolutely! when it snows outside it's like a different world! especially in a snowstorm or blizzard. not a soul is outdoors and nature FORCES people to go inside. i love it. it's like a desolate and abandoned world!
From Buffalo NY here--many blizzards ago when I was growing up there-'65-'85. Morning paper route in the snowy, windy darkness along Lake Erie.
Me too - I love winter!!!
- Hey can you hear that? - Hear what? -Silence. Finally the world went quiet.
I live in the middle of Alberta and this just looks like a normal day in January for us 🎉
Most of eastern europe looks the same in january and february
А я живу мой милый друг в Норильске, север Сибири! За полярный кругом!
_I live in the middle of Alberta and this just looks like a normal day in January for us_
Was just going to post exactly this LOL. ☝
"Leaving this note here for any survivors who find this house..
people are gathering at a bunker in Oldtown, find hornman's brewery on the northend..
survivors from all over, nearly 200 of us now, we're pooling water food medicine ammunition..
head left down the road from here and take a right at the fork, keep going my friend..
Dont give up."
"PS.... stay away from the second floor.... trust me.... for your own safety, by the grace of god or any of your believing deity, do not go up those stairs"
Is this from a video game or something?
@@silvonis Just add to it to make some brevity to the OG comment
Note 2:
Found tucked into a cracked, leather-bound journal in the same house, its pages yellowed and brittle.
"If you're reading this, I hope you made it to Oldtown. I tried. God knows I tried. But the roads were crawling with scavengers, more dangerous than the fallout.
Made it as far as the bridge before the storms came. Radiation's worse there - skin burns almost instantly. Had to turn back, couldn't cross. If you're still going, wear anything you can to cover up. Avoid the bridge at all costs. There’s a path through the woods to the south that might still be passable.
Praying for you.
- S.G."
Note 3, it's written both in ink and a little in blood.
"They're here....they're scavenging for food and my flesh. Four of them chased me and cut my arm, and the look on his face was of otherworldly horror.....
Watch out, the trails of blood leading away from the bridge are signs of their presence nearby. If you find this, please send help....."
All my hair is gone now and my teeth keep breaking. I’m just going to lie down here and rest a while. In my dreams, I can see my family on the other side of a river that flows through a green field. They smile and whisper to me that nothing is permanent, not even loss.
what do you want a medal? mister prophetic over here
@@lunarlight3131 I liked it. :)
@@lunarlight3131 You liked it .. I already know ..😂😂
I liked it too ..
@@lunarlight3131 triggered by a short story? Seriously?
@@lunarlight3131 what do you want? A medal? Mister critic over here.
here, have my dislike.
Blue died a few days ago. He tried to hang on as long as he could. He was a good boy. Gonna miss him a lot. Wish he couldve held on for just a few more days...I found Rabbits this morning.
Day 1:
I never thought the world could end on such a bright morning. The sun was out, the streets were busy, and people smiled as they hurried to work. Then, it happened. A single flash lit up the horizon, brighter than the sun, and the air seemed to ripple with heat. The sirens came too late-always too late. I barely had time to dive into the bomb shelter, pulling the heavy door shut as a wave of thunder rolled over the city. My ears rang, my chest tightened, and my mind screamed with thoughts of the life I’d just lost above ground.
Day 3:
The sky turned gray and stayed that way. Radioactive ash falls like snow now, coating everything in a sickly, silent blanket. My supplies are holding, but the air smells wrong. Every breath feels like it could be my last. I try to remember the laughter of my friends, the sound of music, but all I hear is silence. The world above is gone-just a wasteland now. I wonder if anyone else survived.
Day 10:
The food tastes like ash. Or maybe that's just my tongue. My throat burns from the air, even through the filters. I ventured out today, just for a moment. The buildings stand like charred skeletons, their windows staring down at me like empty eye sockets. I saw a dog-or what was left of one. Its fur had fallen out, and its eyes glowed faintly in the twilight. I ran back inside and locked the door, but I can still feel its gaze.
Day 30:
I stopped marking the days on the wall. What’s the point? Time doesn’t mean anything anymore. I found an old photograph of my family in my coat pocket-smiling faces, a sunny day. I cried until my throat ached, but no tears came. The ash has taken even that.
Day 90:
The water ran out yesterday. I have to leave, but where will I go? The city is dead, and the roads stretch into nothingness. Still, I pack my bag and prepare for the journey. The shelter feels like a coffin now-cold, dark, and silent. If I stay, I’ll die. If I leave, I might find… something.
Day 120:
The wasteland is endless. I walk for hours, days, weeks-time is a blur. The wind carries the ash in great swirling clouds, biting at my skin and stinging my eyes. I found an old can of beans in a burned-out gas station. It tasted like metal and dust, but it kept me going. I don’t know why I keep walking. Maybe there’s someone out here. Maybe there’s hope.
Day 150:
Today, I saw it. A house, standing alone on a hill. Its windows are black and empty, its roof half-collapsed. Snow swirls around it, or maybe it’s ash-I can’t tell anymore. The road leading to it is cracked and broken, disappearing into the horizon like a thread unraveling from the world.
I stand here now, staring at it, my breath fogging the air. It feels alive, somehow. Watching me. Judging me. I wonder if I should go inside. Maybe it’s a trap. Maybe it’s salvation. Maybe it’s just another empty shell, like everything else.
The wind howls, and the ash dances around me like ghosts. I take a step forward.
If this is the end, at least I won’t face it standing still.
Those of us who died when the bombs fell were the lucky ones. All that remains now is despair.
"Finally some peace and quiet..."
This themes becoming increasingly relevant.
eerily so
This has been relevant for the past eighty years. Keep holding onto hope, at least until you are engulfed with the rest of us.
What an absolutely terrifing moment in our history. Every time there is an EAS test, my breath gets shallow, and blood runs cold.
It's always been relevant since nuclear arms became a thing. Except the fact that survival past a year with the best outcomes, would be impossible on this earth if a nuclear war would occur. There is no survival from nuclear war, so many people are wrong about survival after. All life would be dead on the planet.
When will Russia lose patience?
Appreciate the epic apocalyptic darkness of this…. So so dark and so so powerful
I couldn't tell you the last time I saw the sky's blue hue, or felt the warmth of the sun beaming against my skin. I couldn't tell you the last time I saw a smile on someone's face, or heard the joy of laughter that did not trail behind sorrow or insanity shortly after. This world- our world, once flourished with vegetation, breathing with life other than our own hated existence. The sins of man bore into each of our souls the day we saw the flash. It was a blessing to have died that day than to have endured what followed thereafter; a blessing I, and many others never received. I've watched humanity crumble beneath the weight of war, I've witnessed the cruelty in a man that is hungry, I've watched as memories fleet away like sand slipping through your fingers. There is no hope left in a world desolate and laid to ruin. This place- this world- This is Hell... Our gods have long abandoned us here, for this is our punishment. Forever shall we roam aimlessly into reckless abandon.
Our gods? Speak for yourself. Lol
@sodman1987 I bid my utmost apologies, your highness! I did not remember that you were a somebody to anybody. Perhaps just read and appreciate the writings posted here instead of making it a personal matter.
@@DeviantCalamityexactly!
Красиво написано. Назвать все это наказанием - тоже норм. Только вопрос: за что наказана вся другая жизнь на Земле: растения, насекомые, рыбы, птицы, животные? Думаю, будет логичнее не вплетать во все эти дела богов, а ограничиться лишь человеческой злобностью и тупостью.
И ещё: после такого, вечно скитаться не получится. Получится только помучится некоторое время от боли и страданий и вымереть.
I love the monotony of this soundscape. It feels so hopeless.
This is literally “The Road” by Cormac McCarthy
Lovely but haunting at the same time this track with this picture.
That picture isn’t from the post apocalypse - that’s just typical northern Wisconsin desolation in December!
You are entirely wrong its the cowardly dog , courage house !!!!!!
More akin to what you'd find in North Dakota.
Вы все заблуждаетесь. Шесть месяцев в году это мой вид из окна. Россия.
@@СергейЗорин-х4яoh! Just tell us, what's the feeling of seeing this 6 months in a row??
This man is correct. Looks like Oshkosh lol
It has been a long time since the bombs fell. I can still hear the sirens going off but giving little or no warning. The outdoors are a bleak defining cold- with next to no life. I saw the library of where I used to go in my youth. It was nothing but a hollowed out shell now. The main drive in my home city had nothing left but ruin. The bowling alley, the gaming store, the drug store, every business that meant something to someone- just gone. The buildings were still there but there wasn't much left. City hall had about 40 people- and if it wasn't the horror of the bombs going off- it was going to be the stark cold death that was going to set in. I'm telling you this because I don't even remember what the sun felt like or how we even got to this point. All I can remember from what happened is that how we got to this point was a mistake. A mistake that could have been prevented.
I saw the other 40 people and met them- some had lost family members, friends, beloved pets, or someone close to them. The despair on their faces said it all. They didn't want this day to ever happen. Not one of us did and there was plenty of blame to go around and I'm not talking about normal people who would never act like this. No one really knows who is or was responsible. We had basic resources and held out hope that we could contact whoever would still be alive around our area instead of the hopelessness that would set in. I remember looking out one of the city hall windows and just remember the stark cold death that was upon us and with everything the way it looked. We found a small area behind the building where we could bury the bodies of those who had passed on from this.
Maybe the minute that I found these 40- that there was a small glimmer of hope- to know that I wasn't alone and neither were they. I am going to lie down in one of the cots here- it isn't much- but I really don't care. What we took for granted- now we regret having ever done so. How did we get to this point? I just hope that we can rebuild- that is- if there is anything left......
I almost can't remember a time when the world was anything other than what it is now. A cold, lonely void that goes on forever, with all the same lonely, emptiness in every corner of what's left of existence. That emptiness seems to devour time itself. Every minute, then every hour, then every day, then, before you know, a year. Gone. Gone like it never even existed in the first place. No point in wishing to have that time back because the future is identical to the past.
You want a hug?
Excellent!
it's a summer's day, and i feel cold listening to this. great piece to be sure!
December-15-2028
"Most people ignored the signs that something was coming. Smart people prepared, enough as they could anyway. Being so close to DC, Virginia was in pretty bad shape after the attack. Those who survived hunkered down in basements or old fallout shelters, some old towns still had. It's been almost two years now. Winter is here and colder than ever. We've read makeshift signs on the road reading the promise of shelter, food, and safety... Or it could just be a trap. Food is always a problem, and cannibalism is the greatest fear. My family and I are almost near this abandoned farmhouse, it looks like. Could keep us safe from the elements, at least for tonight. One mag left for the AR and two for the pistol. Hope I don't have to use any upon entry. If anyone ends up reading this, just know. You didn't deserve to live in a world like this.. The greedy politicians that were supposed to protect us lost interest in that long ago.. Survive and keep going. We're nearly at the door now, enough writing for today."
Amen
This world has never been my home. As far back as I can remember , I knew I would live to see the world in ruins. Please father , I know your with me, but I’ve never felt so alone. Can I come home now?
We are all made of stardust and one day we will all return to the universe. There is no God, no heaven, no hell, just the eternal universe.
I remember once a few years back when my city had an overcast for like 40 straight days.
For more than a month, I coulnt see thew sun. It was either overcast or rain, all the time. After the 40 days, the sun appeared for like 2 days and then, another overcast for like a week more.
In that week I tought on ending myself just for the fact I couldnt see the blue sky. I never got that type of thinking before or after that. God forbid living in a grey hell.
That was rough. I remember that time.
"I was 23 when WWIII broke out. I remember fighting in the fields, bleeding in a building bombed to hell and back, and I remember thinking nothing could ever top this.
Then the bombs fell.... and everyohe quickly realized that we had been condemned to a fate worse then anything Hell could possibly come up with. A world gone Hell, dead and buried"
It has been three years since the bombs fell, and the world was lost. Three years since I last saw the clear sky, felt the warmth of the sun. I don't think anyone expected the winter to set in so quickly. But here we are, in the cold and the wind.
Saw some other survivors heading south a few days back. A few dozen of them, carrying every weapon and bit of food they could. Said they were heading south, towards what used to be the tropics. I wished them luck. We all need luck at this point.
Everything still looks so dreary and depressing. But I'm holding onto hope. I've been carrying one of those thermometers that used to be on the side of a house. It's a small difference, but each day is warmer than the last. Some of the clouds above me look thinner than before. The world is healing. I can only hope that whatever humans remain don't make the same mistakes we did before.
👏
“There are scars left, but passing by, not looking for them, you don’t notice. The grass is green again, sky is mostly clear. It’s only when you ask the old, the wise, ask them, ‘what was the Postwar Time like?’. That’s when you get answers. That’s the people who learned the lesson of society’s mistakes.”
"This is Lawrence, Kansas. Is there anybody out there? Anybody at all?"
The Day After. 1983. happy Weekend from Switzerland 🇨🇭
We are not talking about Hiroshima anymore
@@hannakosun9067 Hiroshima was...was peanuts!
Green Day reference
William S. Burroughs's last hometown before he passed.
"It's not as cold here. I like that. But...
I remember, all of a sudden, that I used to say 'I have to keep going. I have to find out what happened. I have to find others.' I don't remember the last time I said any of those things.
I think it's autumn. Hard to say. It seems darker lately.
Maybe I'll just stay here a while..."
“There’s no fate but what we make for ourselves.”
- John Connor, 1991
No other words but BEAUTIFUL and peaceful! Thank you for this remarkable piece.
Great illustrative music. It captures the atmosphere very well. I like this kind of mood and it was nice to indulge in thoughts with these sounds. In addition, the image is well chosen. A dead view, an echo of the past, things that can no longer be recovered and everything in depressing colors. It would fit as an OST for some game or movie.
Dang, some S.T.A.L.K.E.R. vibes right here
Reminds me more of Metro
Anything new in the Zone ?
@@DarkStormProduction5
The music definitely gives more Metro vibes, especially in the first Metro game where you go to the surface and explore for the first time.
It gives half-life 2 vibes to me
I'm just so tired, I can't go on, but it's not safe to sleep; all I can do is sit here and exist, for the time being.
Existing is all too often more than enough to be going on with.
Strength my friends
Been reading the short stories a lot of you have posted in the comments to accompany this haunting scene and ambiance. I'd heartily recommend the 1980s British film called "Threads". It's one of the most harrowing and, being British originally, starkly plausible and identifiable, depictions of the post-fall Nuclear apocalypse I have ever seen.
It has no happy ending and leaves you feeling lost and full of despair.
Ashes and diamonds, foe and friend, we were all equal in the end.
I am so tired. I walk and I starve, waiting for the echoes of a dead civilization to save me. There is no hope, only misery encased in a white blanket. Yet, let me walk a little longer. Till I find a place to rest. I am so tired.
Where is this quote from?
@@721rena I just made it up
@@amorak223 for dramatic effect
I found a young couple embracing each other in their last moments of life. I didn’t know them in life. But i broke down and weeped for their souls. I prayed to God for this madness to stop. The holnest army is converging on my location. I dont think they know i’m here yet. I better stay put and keep quiet.
Great work! This is outstanding. The tense music and the wind create such a wild, vast sound. It reminds me of walking the plains of West and North Texas.
I know you’re gone. I know you’re in the ashes blowing over some ruined landscape far away from here. I look for you anyway. I look for you as the cold ashes scour my face.
"This is not the end, but a new beginning. An era dominated by the cold chill of despair in the wind, with no one alive nor willing to carry its legacy."
I lost count on how many years it has passed since the great war. All that remains now are the silhouettes of what was once the epitome of humanity's greatest accomplishments.
Walking with no destination just following the wind punching through the clouds trying to to prevent the light from piercing through , I'm always wondering what will become of me. Should I end it all or just keep going?...
Nuclear winter, coming sooner rather than later. This will lull you to sleep. Your last and longest sleep.
Very fitting music. I also quite like the picture.
Makes you wish you were patrolling The Mojave
"They said they were here to help. They lied.
I hope your luck is better."
I escaped the holnest army, all thanks the jake. He sacrificed him self so i could get away.
typical response to federal involvement
"I sprained my ankle trudging through the snow a few days ago. I tried to yell out in pain but the cold stole my voice. It made me realise that i hadnt heard another voice in a very long time. And how much my ankle has swollen reminds me that I never will."
"Some said that war never changes, but actually it does, humans, humans won't change... never"
Honestly living out in Wyoming is pretty much just living in a post nuclear wasteland with no trees, no people, and no internet.
I had a few years ago a dream with almost same landscape. I know how it sounds, but it wasn`t expectable
Sometimes our minds make up the most darndest of things, our greatest hopes, and darkest nightmares
One of these days, a video like this is going to have a jump scare in and i am going to SHIT myself
Shh, they'll hear you.
oh, there actually is one of those, look up "4 hours of relaxing city rain at night", (the top result will most likely be the right one) and go to 1:39:30
🤣🤣🤣
LMFAO!
portal 10h loop
Today will mark the 5th anniversary of that day...At first, it was the best day of my life. No laws, no people, no drama...just me and the nuclear ash of what use to be the world I resented so much... I won't say I wish it was back to normal, but the lack of family and friends has already hit me, my life isn't over...but the world as we knew it definitely is. I travelled 10 states and am right now in the snowy remnants of Connecticut, I was thinking of sifting through some city ruins...but when I got to whatever the first town was...it was just a hole in the ground, poor bastards must've been ground zero...then again, maybe they're the lucky ones.
I need to reach Chicago, that's where He is...if he's smart and heeded my advice, my Brother will have done the same thing I did and successfully survived both the blasts and the Radioactive aftermath. Knowing him, he's already in charge of a group of raiders, I don't know what I'll do when I find him...but I need to find him. I already witnessed the rise of a Faction, they didn't attack me, but they definitely made it clear that I was not to oppose them...Never thought I'd see "The Brotherhood of Steel" in real life, but there they were, in New Mexico, grabbing every book they could find and any technology that wasn't nailed down. I know there are more survivors, and I already confirmed which of my friends survived...but I couldn't stay, I NEED to get to Chicago...that's where he is...Dead or Alive...I WILL find him...
That's pretty awesome my friend, you could be a great writer
@@MrAlio101 Thank you, I always feel good about my writings. I'm even doing some Fanfics if you're curious to check them out?
(Though some of them get a bit goofy, just a fair warning.)
I love how this feels to read, like a poetic diary entry of a survivor. So cool
Why would the BOS be in Connecticut right after the Great War? They stayed at Mariposa for a while before actually moving out to that bunker and then the rest of America. And your character is in for a heap of trouble if he even makes it to Chicago, that's Enclave territory.
@@CDTyphol the story I wrote is based in our universe...not Fallout's. I'm saying there's a group that became what the Brotherhood of Steel is in the game, not the actual Brotherhood of Steel FROM the games.
What day is it, I wonder?
It has been so long since I had to consider that. Not that the answer really matters, anymore. These days I have little time for questions beyond those of survival. Where is my next meal, my next drink? How shall I acquire it? Will it kill me? Is the next cold spell going to be the one to usher me beyond, to the rest of the people I once knew; can scarcely remember?
Distraction is death in this cold and lonely world. There is little space for rumination in these times. How many times have I learnt this lesson; how close it has brought me. And yet, the mind wanders, of it's own accord. Despite my best effort, it wanders. I think back to oh so long ago, whenever that was, and see nothing but colour. Even the darkest of times had some vibrancy to them. There was light, somewhere beyond them. But those days are gone now. The horizon is still there, always before me. But what is beyond there? Is it worth this arduous battle?
No. Too much thought. Think no more upon it; look only ahead. Always ahead. The world may be gone, but the horizon is always there. Waiting for me. That is enough, that is enough.
pretty cool graphics and desolate atmospheric music
Reply
2024 was a hell of a year man, its yet to climax i fear
Yep. I think the end of this year and 2025 could be big.
Войдут в учебники истории
If someone is reading the war ended and we are still somehow surviving in this wasteland. To everyone who still did not lose hope, DON'T GIVE UP EVER!
Survive be strong find shelter, the winter will be long but we need to hold on try your best in those times and be careful of the mutants many souls were lost fighting them and more are fighting for their lives.
GOD BLESS US ALL!
the snow crunches under my boots, as it blows and obscures the highway. It feels like ages since I've seen my travel partner's face, even though he trudges along beside me- as it's been for the last week or so. As we walk, i try to strain my neck, the aching muscles braced against the weather, to see his face, and to my relief it's still there beside me. If i could register his expression, i'd be sure it was as dour as mine, as it was when we'd left the Bordon encampment, but it's been too long a stretch of exhausting movement.
And yet it continued, the pair of us needing a rest but denying ourselves a simple collapse amidst the powerful drifting winds- even in the emptiness of exhaustion, we knew it would mean an abrupt end to us. The thought, however, a simple spark within, became evident: Why Us? Why was it me, my partner, the thinly spread collections of those like us, surviving out in this horrid aftermath? It would have been easier, it should have been us amidst the countless millions perished, that's how we were always told it would end-
And yet we continue.
the teakettle strapped to my pack bounces on the thin coat of frost behind me. I don't notice until the structure looms to our right, beckoning us with the sweet promise of it's dark walls, blinding blindness amidst the void of the blizzard. I turn, thinking my partner will walk on into the structure unnoticing of my absence but i feel a tug at my blanket wrap. A panicked tug. I back up, still not registering his face underneath the wrappings, but the density of the situation was enough to tell me we both knew it was a bad idea. As much as it was a mistake to keep surviving, we couldn't keep doing so without each other. No matter how fruitless it'd be, when our time would come, that would be it. It would be out of our control when that would be though.
And yet we continued.
"My great grandfather was barely fifteen when the nukes were dropped and more than five billion people died as a result. From the things he told us as kids, I'm surprised civilization bounced back within two generations."
Eh. Drones are cheaper and cause less international outcry. Also yes, it is possible to shoot ICBMs out of the sky.
The day the drones came - now that was terrifying.
Where is this quote from?
@@721rena original
@@bartolomeestebanmurillo4459 well that's pretty cool. It's from a story you wrote?
@@721rena Nah. Just something that came to mind.
Another day in the bunker
Spook-spook.
AGH!
What a clunker.
Спасибо!
Very atmospheric! Simply magical sounds!
I like the grain in the picture. Like you're staring out at it through a sight on an old AFV
*Scribbles on the a wall with a jagged piece of rock “I miss the internet”*
"The roofs gone but the shed might still be dry." A man speaks to himself as he slowly plows his bicycle through a muddy dirt road. The snow almost blinding his eyes through the narrow slits of a well worn t shirt tied like a shemag around his face. He came to a stop outside the desolate stone farm house. Without question some 400 years older than they were and poked his head through the open doorway.
"I'd wager this was a nice place at some point." Once again speaking to himself as the sound of his own voice was muffled by the driving snow and wind. The open plains allowing both to rampage through the ancient domicile. "I hope I'm not the only one left. There's not even a guest book for me to sign!" He proclaimed with a smile at the stoney wall were a carving read "Edgar Loves Maud" he read aloud as his gloved hand traced under the words.
Back outside he grabbed his bike and the bags and equipment strapped to it. The shed in back did indeed have an intact roof. Albeit pitted with small holes. The door was jammed but with multiple shovels he was finally able to breach it. "This pizza parlors no pushover." He had heard that line once before. Where though he couldn't recall, too much time had passed. Dragging his bike inside and forcing the door into place once again he found himself for once, out of the wind.
U should write. You definetly have the skills for it my friend
what a wonderful ambient omg
Thank you!
Just perfect. Thanks!
During my travels in North Dakota I've been down streets that look EXACTLY like this with abandon farm house and such
Imagine listening to this during the first reading of "1984"
This fits ''Roadside Picnic'' a bit better i think. It fits the atmosphere in the zone
Great novel! ThoughtCrime
@@volfi123да сталкер это пикник на обочине и больше ничего.а то что сейчас игру придумали американцы
I was walking along such a road once
"I know not with what weapons World War III will be fought, but World War IV will be fought with sticks and stones"
Albert Einstein
Here I lay. A destitute man. I fought for my beliefs. For freedom. For whatever that was worth
I came to this land far from my home believing I was doing something good. What has that given me but pain and sorrow. My men lay around me, bleeding, dying and in agony. Now only I remain.
I hear the tanks closing in, I feel the vibrations in the floorboards of this ruined hovel. I can do nothing to stop them. Forgive me Sonya. Brothers, I will see you soon…
This one really hits right
Thanks man!
“But where are we going, what will we do when we get there?” he said to the man walking alongside him.
“We prepare.”
“For what? What are we going to do to prepare?”
“Sit and wait.”
“That’s not preparing.”
“It’s all we can do.”
“Sitting and waiting is doing nothing, not preparing …”
“No, doing nothing would have been to stay back there, back where we started from, back in the rubble. We could have stayed, could have scavenged among the ruins, could have found stray dogs to eat. You ever had dog? No, neither have I, and I don’t want to. So we are walking. We are taking this walk. Get it?”
“Won’t we have to do the same, scavenge and kill, when we get there?”
“Maybe. I don’t know.”
“And aren’t they just going to come for us there, too?”
“They’ll go anywhere we are. They would have turned back around and done another sweep back there, and again, and again until they found us.”
“So why are we walking? Why not just give up?”
“They cannot be everywhere at once. If we keep moving, they might keep missing us.”
“Or they’ll get us-“
“Or they will. But that’s a perhaps. It’s a certainty they’ll do so if we stay put.”
“Do you know how far we’ve walked?”
“No.”
“Do you know how far we have to go?”
“No.”
“Do you know where this place is?”
“No. Sort of. We’ll get there.”
“And then we sit and wait …”
“And hope that they miss us. And hope that they go elsewhere. There is no telling what they’ll do, what they’ll try, what their methods will be. It’s a matter of luck. Just pray we get lucky.”
“Pray to a god that has clearly forsaken us.”
“Perhaps He’s forsaken us because we no longer pray. Keep moving.”
It was a long walk. Tens of miles. Hundreds of them? Neither could tell. Did hours pass, or days? Or weeks? Green forests turned to verdant fields. Verdant fields to rotting bogs. Rotting bogs to green forests.
Then they arrived.
“It’s like I imagined,” said the man.
“You must not have a very good imagination…”
“Go in.”
“You first.”
The man entered. The other followed.
“Find a corner, I’ll stay at the entrance.”
“Yeah, setting me up to be cornered, I get it…”
“Shut up. Do it.”
The man, the sentry, looked outward through the opening. For the first time, a sense of fear washed over him. He couldn’t tell why.
“What’s the problem?” asked the other.
One does not realize how loud the emptiness of a manless world is until all goes quiet. When the birds stop chirping, the chipmunks cease chattering, the wind finishes running its fingers over the leaves and pine needles.
All became still. The trees halted their flitting, shaking abstract dance. Frogs half-croaked.
Then, nothing.
“This is it.”
The sky grew dark.
Recently, I stumbled upon an empty can and picked it up; brushed it off. It used to contain peaches, and was sealed 70 years ago in a different world than I know now. I keep it with me and study it sometimes. Glossing over the list of nutrients, I try to remember what peaches tasted like. They're all gone now, of course. Being a botanist, I know that to thrive and produce good quality yields, peach trees need to live in hot summers of full daylight. The very fruits that were in this can were basking for weeks. Turning my head up and closing my eyes, I can almost feel it.
"Where's my house you say? Well, listen close, it's just outside the town. Keep going down the main road, go past the remains of the gas station and then turn left. That's where you'll find my old house. It has no roof now, all the windows got blown out, and the paint job Dad and I did the week before the bombs fell is long gone. Around the back is where I buried him, mom and my sister. The second floor is where i've set up a shrine for them all, and the ground floor's been stripped clean of anything useful. Not even copper wiring. ...God, you know, it's been, what, ten years or so, and I'm still shocked how the aftermath of our so-called end of the world is so...quiet. Like, as soon as the shockwaves rolled over, it was all quiet. As soon as the riots in the town stopped, it was beyond quiet. Silent, even."
"It was as if it turned off the natural sound of the world..."
Или мы все вымрем.и через несколько сотен лет появятся новая жизнь .но уже другая.не прежняя.мет бактерии.или ещё что тот все начнется заново
Были же цивилизации которые до нас жили и тоже вымерли
"The neon grey sky hung over our heads like a dismal reminder that we once had a blue oasis. Constant storms plague the landscape as the stench of decayed civilization harasses the nostril. Our wasted lineage. The bloodline of foolish bald apes. A Species of Nothing..."
Tomorrow tomorrow and tomorrow creeps in this petty pace from day to day...
great!!
"This is nothing like the movies. No Vaults or bunkers, no group of people who work together to save us, it's just me and the consequences of humanity actions"
“To think this home was once for living in.. now it’s used as shelter from the miles of snowfall around it.”
This is cool, also the darkness at the windows are a perfect detail
"The war they promised would never come did come. In ten minutes, every bit of man kinds technology, and ninety percent of mankind were gone. In almost a blink of an eye, we had gone from being capable of walking on the surface of the moon to being afraid to walk outside the front door. The smart ones promised nuclear winter. No. Just fires. Endless fires. And the lonely howl of wind blowing the gray snow."
Journal, page 1 of 6, 2027.
Это перезагрузка.всего мира к которому мы привыкли наказание людям .и выжившие должны построить что то другое .уже без войн границ оружия итд.Мир созидания и развития
Мне кажется все будет хуже взорвется сама планета вместе с людьми
I believe the image is a painting of a real abandoned house in Iceland.
This is how I see life. When I look out the window I wish to see the very same. Can you please take me there? I just want to be left alone.
you should make these longer, kills the immersion having to restart it over and over again. thanks for this tho
'' it has been year's since the drone war ended with nuclear winter i still wander throught this old world wondering if there is even survivor's ''
survivor's what
When I stepped outside, the sun was shining, wrapping me in warmth like a comforting hug. I strolled through laughter and light, feeling like nothing could touch me. But now everything is in snow, and it feels so heavy and lifeless. The sun is just a distant memory, and hope seems out of reach. I can’t escape this coldness, Why is this happening to us.
English people: Still nicer than living in Birmingham. 🤷♂
True
If y'all don't play The Long Dark, you should. It's a Canadian winter survival game with this kind of music.
Currently downloading it now
It reminds me so much of Kona
The long dark is so damn good. It’s so unforgiving tho lol
@@spiralout3942 I play almost every night, I'm so addicted to it. I liked it so much I bought it for two systems!
@@SamuelBlack84 Have you been playing it? I've been addicted lately, I play at least an hour a night.
@@synergyadvaita9696 It's really difficult
Самое простое в таких подборках - это подставить саундтрек из TNO
You notice words etched in the wall, “God please forgive me.”
I read it knowing I can't ask forgiveness. God is evil and to give into him would be a front to justice. Though at times I wish to be saved, I must soldier on and do what's right and fight Heaven's evil reign.
Where does it say that. I can't see it.
Saw that in a warehouse in vybor
"Everything is cold here... even my heart"
"She was gone and the coldness of it was her final gift. She would do it with a flake of obsidian. He’d taught her himself. Sharper than steel. The edge an atom thick. And she was right. There was no argument. The hundred nights they’d sat up debating the pros and cons of self destruction with the earnestness of philosophers chained to a madhouse wall. In the morning the boy said nothing at all and when they were packed and ready to set out upon the road he turned and looked back at their campsite and he said: She’s gone isn’t she? And he said: Yes, she is."
-Cormac McCarthy, "The Road"
I want to sleep, never wake up again. Because my soul will not be able to handle dying again.
If you could see inside my heart this is all you would see.
love winter ☃🌨
Thanks Joe
So much sadness, so much despair, so many regrets. Alas that these evil days were ours.