Underverse: Intro

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Just some background on this: This is the beginnings to a graphic novel I once thought of starting. It’s about a post apocalyptic world. A war between humans and aliens destroyed the very surface of the earth and those who survived and wanted to live a life where humans and aliens could coexist, created a new world beneath the surface- the underverse. Humans who refused to have anything to do with the aliens stayed on the surface and learned to exist on the toxic filled surface world. 

It was nothing like the books portrayed; the verdant lands now laid dying, covered profusely in dirt, dust and decay. The smell was horrid, even with the mask on, the smell of death filled my lungs. Planet Earth was no longer the beautiful mass that it once was, at least here, where the United States used to be. Still, I wonder if there was any bit of life left anywhere else. I would have loved to see Italy one day. From what my mom told me, it’s such a beautiful and romantic place. 
I continued along forward, treading along the lost world; exploring the ruins of the city that once was. There’s no telling what or where this city was. As I walked, I happened upon what seemed to be a warehouse, in much better condition than any of the other buildings. 

“Who goes there?!” I heard someone shout as I stepped inside. I stood there frozen, unsure of what to say as a tall broad figure came into view. “Are you human or a putrid, alien scum?” He hissed as he pointed, what I presumed to be a gun at me. 

“H-h-human!” I quickly responded. He put the gun down at his side and walked cautiously forward. He stood towering over, glaring at me with eyes of ice. 

“I’ve never seen you around here before… ‘human’.” 

“I’m actually from the Underverse…” Big mistake. He grabbed the gun from his side and pressed it against my temple, finger on the trigger. “I-I-I am h-human though. I-I’m an o-o-orphan. M-my mo-mom is human but my dad i-is a Borian. P-please don’t shoot. I mean no harm…I just wanted to visit the place my people used to call home.”

“Home.” He scoffed. “Let me show you what we call ‘home’.” He marched forward, dragging me along. He lead me through a long corridor, at the end was a set of huge, metal, double doors. He pushed it open to reveal what looked like a refugee camp. “This is home.”

They looked nothing like humans, more like zombies. They didn’t walk, they trudged. There seemed to be no life in their eyes and the color was gone from their skin. They were gray…everything was…gray. 

“They look so…dead.” I whispered. 

“That’s what it looks to lose what’s important to you. Not family, not friends, not your livelihood but yourself. Lose yourself completely.”

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