So the ancient Mayan-predicted Apocalypse has begun. Zombies swarm the streets, the sky billows black with smoke, and fire rains down on the broken remains of the world. Natural disasters run rampant; the Earth’s magnetic field is reversing; Walmarts across the nation are being looted. Or something.
How are you spending your Apocalypse? In case you’re bored, here’s a fitting piece of Apocalyptic flash fiction that I wrote, and which was previously published by Necon E-books.
If you need me, I’ll be out killing zombies.
In the folds of a cyberreality, time shivered and stuck. The machine whirred histrionically as thousands of equations stuttered on the series 1221122112, where the virus corrupted the alien entity of electric intelligence.
The Scientist growled in frustration at the frozen world of coding paused upon the screen—an entire universe of virtual evolution vanquished by a calculation error. Why was it always this spot where the system crashed?
And how did the virtual people all know it was coming?
The Scientist unplugged and reset the program. Time imploded. He hit restart and the universe banged into existence once again.