NEW OLYMPIANS (ISSUE 1) by Kelly Logue (best books for students to read .txt) 📕

obsessively when he was still a very little kid.

It was one of the few nice memories he had of his mom, before alcohol and bitterness made her a monster.

But, there was no getting around it, he had jolted awake.

The awful nightmare still lingering in his mind.

For there, in the dark recesses of his mind, still lived the Sarge beckoning him to hell, where the boys he had killed lied in waited for him—growing ever larger as they lunged for him.

Carl shook these thoughts away.

But, what he couldn’t shake was the feeling that Athena had abandoned him.

He hadn’t realized how much he had become dependent on her, at the very least to keep the bad dreams away.

His arms ache, and now Carl saw why.

He is chained to the wall, yet again.

This time, in a Christ like pose.

But, his captors haven’t taken his mind, and that was his most powerful weapon, even without the wisdom of Athena to guide him.

Across the room, Carl saw a bank of TV screens, showing what appeared to be an empty town from various points of view.

In front of the screen bank was a small desk, on which sat an old Atari joystick—just like the one he used to have as a kid.

Carl hears a whooshing sound to his left, and he snaps his head in that direction.

A door opens, and the Native American woman steps out.

She tips her cowboy hat to him as she passes, and makes her way to the desk.

He tries to scream at her.

But his cries are muffled.

He is gagged.

Carl can only watch helplessly as Maureen pops up on one of the screens.

Now, he hears the familiar plastic pop of the joy stick, as the Native woman begins to play a sinister game.

A dog appears on one of the screens. It starts in the top corner, but quickly made its way from one screen to another.

Carl’s eyes go wide.

It’s not a dog!

It’s some sort of metal monstrosity, and it is headed straight for...

 

 

Chapter VI

Maureen had been searching for what seemed like hours.

Then, she found the town. The people town with buildings and cars: just like on TV.

There had even been a sign welcoming her.

It had taken her a little bit of time to figure out what the sign had said, and she really had to squint to make it out.

“NEW OLYMPUS,” she said, sounding the letters out, like the nice doctor lady had taught her.

But there were no people.

At least there were no loud people sounds.

No talking or shouting.

No laughing or crying.

No music and no life.

It scared her.

Having grown up watching TV most of her life, Maureen liked people sounds. She found them comforting.

Just when she was about to give up, Maureen thought she saw someone standing on a street corner.

She squinted.

It looked like a man, maybe a policeman?

But, he had no smell.

“Hello,” she said timidly.

The man did not answer.

“Hello,” Maureen said again, approaching a little closer now, but ready to run if it proved dangerous.

Still the man did not move, or return her greeting.

“Brave heart, Chipmunk,” Maureen told herself now, doing her best to imitate the nice doctor lady’s voice.

Cautiously, she approached the man. Her heart raced. Something felt wrong here.

“Hello,” she said again. “Are you a policeman?”

She reached out, touching the man, but quickly drew her hand back.

He was...he was...Maureen couldn’t think of the words.

“Like the scary man,” she said finally, meaning solid and lifeless.

She peered around the corner, and squinted.

More people, dozens of them, lining the streets and sidewalk.

But like the scary man, frozen, and lifeless.

Maureen’s big ears flatten.

Something was bad here. Something very...very bad.

She sniffed the air, but the people had no smell, which only frightened her more. Everything has a smell, even dead things, but not here.

What could she do?

She could send her rat friends to search the town, and report back what they found. They had been eager to explore when they first arrived, but now they huddled back, waiting for her to take the lead. Even they could sense that something was off here.

The ground underneath them shook.

On instinct, Maureen’s ears perked up, just in time to hear the crunch and heavy growl of machinery.

Maureen screamed, frozen with fear, as a red light shot out...

An Innocent Ride to Hell

Submitted for your approval...

One, Alexandra “Alex” Newman.

Recent college graduate, defined in the modern parlance as a career woman.

In truth, with crushing student loans, mounting debt and long hours at an unfulfilling office job her true profession might be more accurately described as a wage slave.

Today, she looks forward to a relaxing weekend at home. Instead, Alex Newman will spend the next few terrify hours taking...A JOURNEY INTO A NIGHTMARE

 

“Perfect, just perfect!” Alex frantically pushed the ground floor button over and over again. But, the only thing it gave her was a slight dopamine rush. A rush that left her feeling drained a few seconds later, as the elevator doors hung open wide in a sideways grin.

“You cheap piece of crap!” Alex quickly sprang to action, and again rapidly pushed the ground floor button, then for good measure hit the closed door button too.

“Jesus! Can't I just go home!” The question lingered in the air, forever unanswered, as the elevator remained still. Still as the grave, and dead as a doornail.

“Screw this!” Alex sighed, and peered out the open doors. What greeted her on the other side, however, was an unsettling darkness. Someone had turned off all the lights.

Alex hesitated, and bit her lip.

“Shouldn't be this dark, though,” she told herself. “What about the exit sign or the emergency lights...?”

Again, the question lingered in air, to remain forever unanswered.

Alex tired the flashlight on her phone, but the tiny light barely made a dent into the murky hallway. If anything the darkness seemed to lap up the light, consuming it whole.

“No stairs for me then,” she laughed nervously, and stepped back.

Almost immediately the elevator doors snapped shut. Sealing her in. Then, to add insult to injury, the elevator lurched, nearly knocking her on her feet.

Alex quickly steadied herself.

“Power must have been out,” she told herself. Her rational mind offering comforting words in these troubled times.

The descent would be long and agonizing, something she knew from personal experience. This wasn't her first rodeo. Fifteen floors down to the bottom, with an elevator past its prime, as it moved at a snail's pace.

Still the ride would give her time to decompress.

Alex sighed again.

The day had dragged on and on. Made worse by her bitch of a supervisor who hovered around her desk, waiting to pounce on every little mistake. As far as Alex could tell, the old woman seemed to have no other tasks save to drag her employee through the mud.

Alex had more than once thought about telling the old bitch that: If you are going to have me do the work of three people then you can pay me triple what I'm making now.

Not that Alex would ever do something like that in real life. Oh, she could talk a good game when she was alone, but confrontation really wasn't her strong suit. No, she had been tenderized over the years to be the world's biggest doormat. And her single mom had happily walked over her daughter for most of her life, and then bullied her offspring into going to college. Now, the doormat was knee deep in debt with no escape.

Alex sighed again.

“Maybe some man will come along and sweep me off my feet,” she said wistfully.

But no, here again she had been cheated.

Cheated in the looks department, as she wasn't exactly much of a looker.

“Except,” Alex told herself. “Everyone tells me I have such a pretty face.”

But a pretty face was still not enough to get by in this confusing modern world.

And the only thing her feminist professors at school had taught her was to be hate and fear men.

No, she was stuck.

Stuck...

Stuck..

With no one to help her out.

The elevator continued i's lethargic descent down, in no hurry to reach rock bottom.

Being left to her own devices, however, was starting to wear Alex down. She had decompressed to the point where she felt almost empty on the inside.

I don't have a single thing to look forward to in my life...

The elevator suddenly lurched to a stop, half way down.

“You gotta be kidding me!” Alex cried, her morbid thoughts now replaced by a primal fury.

“I just wanted to go home!” She screamed. “Why is that so hard?”

Again the question lingered in the air, and again it would remain unanswered—like so many other questions in her life.

The doors opened with a deep thud, that shook the carriage inside. Bright, harsh light poured in through the gash.

Alex shielded her eyes from the sudden influx. But soon the light dimmed and in response she lowered her guard.

“What the hell?” She cried out, as the vision before her assaulted her eyes.

This has to be some kind of nightmare...

For laid out before her was a world beyond her imagination.

“It's dead!” She gasped. “Dead as a door-nail”

The phone rang, and the distraction proved a welcome one.

Alex quickly looked down at her phone, but no the call wasn't coming from there.

The elevator phone.

Alex turned away from the doors, and opened the little door panel.

Inside the phone was still ringing.

“Hello,” Alex answered tentatively.

“Alex?” The voice asked on the other line. It was a woman's voice. It sounded young, but at the same time there was a sternness about it.

“I'm Madam Hex, and I'm here to help,” the woman assured her. “You could use some help, right?”

“You could say that?” Alex answered bluntly.

“Listen to me very carefully,” the woman on the phone stressed. “Whatever you do, do not leave the elevator! It is the only protection you have, and nothing can get in, as long as you don't break the seal.”

“Okay,” Alex answered, somewhat dubious.

“I'm trying to get to where you are,” the woman continued. “But, it's going to take some time. Where you are isn’t exactly the easiest place to get to...”

“And where am I, exactly?” Alex cried. Turning away from the door, and now huddling in the corner.

She couldn't be certain, but Alex swore she saw something moving just outside the door.

“You won't believe me if I tell you,” the woman answered, reluctantly.

“I'm standing in an elevator, and outside is a post-apocalyptic world,” Alex said. Her voice was surprisingly steady, for someone who was, by her own admission, not good at confrontation.

“How about we try to get you out of there first,” the woman asserted. “Then we talk about that. Do you remember what buttons you