Quiet Apocalypse

By Nicole Luttrell

The end of the world began with a winter storm.
Sadie’s quiet life is interrupted when a tree crushes the roof of her attic apartment. She’s forced to move to a smaller apartment in the building. Then, her aunt guilts her into clearing an ouija board of a particularly irritating spirit.
But it wasn’t just the roof that was broken by the tree. There was something trapped within the building, waiting. Waiting to wake and bring about the end of the world.
Not with screams, but with silence.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Nicole Luttrell
• Release date: May 12, 2022
• ISBN: 9781005458836

Nicole Luttrell

I'm a speculative fiction author. That means I write about dragons, ghosts and spaceships. Sometimes I write about the ghosts of dragons on spaceships.

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Copyright © 2022 Nicole C. Luttrell

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without the prior written permission of the copyright owner, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Quiet Apocalypse

Nicole C. Luttrell

Other works by Nicole C. Luttrell

Woven

Broken Patterns

Starting Chains

Missing Stitches

Falling From Grace

Station 86

Seeming

You Can’t Trust The AI

Virus

Station Central

Other horror publications

The Man In The Woods

For Garrett

Prologue

The end of the world started on a dark winter night.

Trees circled the apartment building at 437 Oakmont. They weren't old trees, nor were they tall. Yet to look at them, one would think them ancient. They were twisted and gnarled. Every gust of wind found them, even when no other tree moved. The cold of winter clung in their branches, no matter the weather. Passersby didn't like to dawdle along the sidewalk. The trees made them feel unwelcome. Children especially felt this, but of course, children always feel these things most keenly.

 But we weren’t talking about children. We’ll come back to them. For now, we’re discussing the trees. 

They'd been groaning and moaning for most of their lives. Sometimes you couldn't hear them unless you were listening carefully. Other times the inhabitants of the apartment had to turn their TVs up to drown the trees out. But on one dark night in February, the sounds were unrelenting. There was a winter storm. The wind was hellacious, cutting through the town like a vengeful spirit. It took out hanging signs for stores on Main Street, brought down the old pine next to the library, and crashed Mr. Wallback's patio table into his sliding glass window. Ashley Homestead regretted leaving her potted pine tree out for the night. It was thrown against the house from the back porch with such force that the pot shattered.

Leslie Richard's trampoline, covered over with a tarp for the season, was lifted and thrown into the yard of his next-door neighbor.

The wind rattled windows, pushed its way through cracks in the walls and around doors. Heaters couldn’t keep up with the sharp, blistering cold. The families in the apartment building were kept awake by it, huddled under blankets to keep warm.

The storm built up steam as it headed for Oakmont. It was as though those trees in a circle were its target, and it meant to have them. The storm came to a head at almost four in the morning. One of the trees, exhausted from a night’s battle, couldn’t hold on any longer. It came down, crashing into the roof and jutting sharp, dark branches into the attic apartment.

The wind died away almost at once. Gentle snow replaced it, covering the ice. The next morning this would cause several accidents.

The trees that remained continued to scream, as though mourning their fallen brother.

Chapter One

Sadie sat in the doorway of her ruined apartment. Her eyes were itchy, there were rivets of tears dried to her face. She had cried herself out the night before. Now she only wanted a shower and a good long rest. But, as a tree had crashed through the roof of her apartment, neither of those things could happen. 

She knew she ought to be grateful. She'd been in the kitchen with Sage, her creamy colored lab mix when the tree came down. Branches seared through the exterior wall, crashing through her living room and bedroom. One had pierced right through her bed. It was still there, jammed right in the center of the quilt. If Sadie'd been asleep, she wouldn't have survived. All she'd lost were things. She should be thankful for that.

When she was done mourning her things she would be. Her mother had made her that quilt. The crystals on the altar in her living room were all buried in the rubble. Her whole living room was a loss. What wasn't destroyed in the crash or buried under the roof was damaged by the snow that had flooded in.

And her books! Her family had given her irreplaceable books. Thank the Green Man Himself that her grandmother's grimoire was at Aunt Helen's place. But Sadie had her mother's grimoire. And now it was destroyed.

She looked at the cardboard box that contained everything she now owned. There was her teapot, gray with a design of cherry blossoms. The cups that matched it had shaken loose from their shelf and shattered.

There was her grimoire, a battered old sketchbook with a red cover. A french press, some herbs. A truly astounding assortment of tea. A handful of crystals and candles had been on her kitchen windowsill. Sage's food and water bowl. That was all she had.

They were just things. Things that didn't mean anything aside from everything. Ties to family members lost. Tools for her magical work and her mundane life. Decades of learning were destroyed in no time.

 The stairs behind her creaked. She looked back. Her landlord, Frank, was coming up slowly to accommodate his bad knee. He didn’t say anything. They’d known each other too long for that. He just stood beside her in the entryway, looking over the damage. 

Sadie thought Frank was the only person who could understand how she felt just then. This apartment was in the attic of a house that Frank’s family built. And now the roof was nothing more than a mess to be carted away and burned. 

 I guess it could have been worse, but I’m not sure how, he said. 

 I could have been asleep, Sadie said. I’ll have to go stay with my aunt until you guys get this fixed, I guess. 

 She said this with a hint of irritation. Helen was a great woman, in small doses. The thought of spending so much time with her was a bit daunting. 

 There’s an open apartment on the second floor if you want it. It’s not as big as this one, but I’ll give you a break on the rent.

 He gave her a grin that was something of a comfort. Being a witch, from a long line of witches, she was used to being frowned upon. To being not entirely welcome. But not by Frank’s family.

That would be really great, Sadie said. 

 Here, I’ll get this box and you can grab the others. Frank bent down and lifted the lone box.

 Um, there are no others, Sadie said. 

 Oh, Frank said. Well, I’ll get this one anyway.

There was no more reason to stay there, sitting on the landing. She stood, dusted the wood chips from her jeans. 

The studio was about the size of Sadie's living room, but with a stove and fridge wedged into the corner. There was a closet and a bathroom. Two windows overlooked the side of the building, or would if she could see past the snow-covered trees.

Frank sat the box in the middle of the room, leaving Sadie to settle in. 

Sage sniffed over every inch of the place, her active nose trailing over every inch of the floor and what of the wall she could reach. Sadie peeked into the bathroom. There was a clawfoot tub, good sized. Some previous tenant had left behind a cache of monopoly pieces under the sink. The Park Place card and the racecar.

Sadie put her tea and teapot away in a cupboard above the stove. Then she set her crystals on one of the windowsills. After that, there was nothing left to do but call her aunt.

What’s wrong? Aunt Helen said, as soon as Sadie said hello.

One of the big trees outside the apartment came down on the roof, Sadie said. My place is totaled.

I’ll be right over.

 Aunt Helen was soon there in her red truck. She looked as she always had, brown hair brushed and pulled into a braid so as not to be a burden through the day. She wore a thick coat that was probably older than Sadie. Helen took care of her things. 

While Sadie and Sage piled into the car, Helen leaned over the wheel to peer at the