Young Writers Society

December 24, 2026

The soft hum of the newscaster's voice filled the spacious living room of the Texas home, where Addison Thorne stood at the kitchen counter chopping onions. She paused and wiped a tear from her cheek, the pungent smell of onion stinging her eyes. She looked over at her husband, Matteo, who sat in his favorite La-Z-Boy recliner with a cold Bud Light in hand, intently listening to the news. The bright light from the television bounced off the shiny aluminum can, creating a small glimmer in the dimly lit room.

"What's happenin'?" Addison's Texas drawl cut through the silence.

Matteo took a long sip from his beer before responding, mimicking his wife's accent. "There's trouble brewing in Egypt," he said gravely. "And it's spreading to other countries."

Images of explosions and chaos flashed across the screen, causing a shiver to run down Addison's spine. She clenched her fists and bit her lip, trying to hold back her rising fear.

"Looks like Christmas might not happen this year," Matteo continued solemnly. "The government has issued an emergency shutdown for the entire continent."

Addison felt her heart race as she processed the gravity of the situation. "What about us? What are we suppose' to do?"

Matteo shrugged nonchalantly. "They just want everyone to stay home and not leave the country. They've closed the borders with Mexico and Canada too."

Addison set down her. Her mind raced with fear and uncertainty. "Oh my god," she whispered. "This could mean war."

Meanwhile on the television, the newscaster's voice droned on about Egypt's threats and nuclear weapons, mentioning how North Korea and Russia had joined in.

"Oh hell, those Russians never mind their own business," Matteo grumbled.

Outside, a yellow school bus pulled up to a stop outside the Thorne's house, and their son Caspian jumped off and ran up the pathway towards their front door. With a key in hand, he unlocked the door and stepped inside.

Matteo jumped up from his chair, hand smacking his thigh in a reflex he never got over. But when he saw Caspian's smiling face, he settled back down.

"Hey there, Casanova," Addison's voice called from the kitchen. "How was school today?"

Caspian waved off her question as he made his way to his father's side. "It was fine, Mom. But they let us out early because of some government emergency or something."

"Oh yeah, we heard about that on the news just now," Matteo said, eyebrows raised in concern. "But they're not telling the whole story. Why do we have to shut everything down if we're not even at war with these other countries?"

"I don't know," Caspian said, walking to his room, looking over his shoulder, he stopped before entering "But maybe this is one time we dont get involved, when nukes might be used" He laughed, even at 11 years old, his parents let him use the internet, in which his knowledge grew and his views changed. His father, not one for "surfing the web", loved hearing the new things Caspian learned online.

As Matteo and Addison sat down after dinner later that night, the TV suddenly flickered to life with an urgent breaking news bulletin. A loud boom shook the Thorne family home and they all jumped up from the dinner table.

"What the hell was that noise?" Addison said, her voice groggy.

"Sounded like a huge explosion somewhere nearby," Matteo replied as they hurried to the living room window. In the distance, smoke rose from different points on the horizon, and they could hear sirens blaring from emergency vehicles.

Caspian ran out of his room, wearing a white t-shirt and blue underwear, his parents following close behind. "What's happening?" he asked, eyes wide with fear.

"We don't know yet, son," Matteo said, putting a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "But we'll stay together and keep each other safe."Addison grabbed the remote and switched the TV on, the same newsman from earlier sat reading a piece of paper.

"Matty come here," She said, beckoning for her husband "The same person who was on earlier." She said pointing to the TV.

"It is, quiet down so I can hear the man" Matteo said, grabbing the remote from Addison and turning the volume up.Caspian watched as a bar appeared at the bottom of the TV.

7--8--9--10--"So bright..."The newscaster said "Reports from San Antonio say that an entire Mega Mall was leveled"--17--18--19--20 "Oh dear god,what have they done?" Addison said, as pictures of the mall appeared on screen, the newsman hadn't sugar coated it. All that was left of the mega mall was rubble, flat rubble. And the land around it was completely barren, the cars now piles of ash and scrap.

The tear that rolled down Addison's face left a trail of salty wetness, reflecting the orange of the flames displayed on the TV screen, and this time it wasn't because of an onion. Her sons eyes glimmered in the television light. His eyes were wide with horror as he watched the destruction unfolding on the screen."Look away Cas" She said, bringing her son to her, and holding him against her. "We need to go" Matteo said, "Come on, lets get to the basement!"

The family rushed around the house, gathering essential items: clothes, food, books, a radio. They knew they had to be prepared for whatever might come next.

Matteo was the last one out of the house, he joined his family behind the home, in front of the basement. He pulled it open, and dust filtered out."C-c'mon " He said, coughing, his arms ushering his family in. Suddenly a blinding flash appeared like a bunny out of a magicians hat. "GO!" He yelled, as he rushed into the basement, the doors slamming behind him, narrowly missing the black, yellow, and blood-red cloud of smoke and debree.

December 25, 2026

A deafening thud reverberated through the walls, dislodging dust from the basement ceiling where Matteo Thorne shielded his son with a sturdy arm. Caspian, small and wide-eyed beneath the dim glow of a single battery-powered lantern, clung to his father as another concussive wave rippled through their sanctuary. Beside them, Addison crouched, her fingers white-knuckled around the radio’s handle, the static-filled voice from the speaker providing a grim soundtrack to their new reality.

“Matteo, we should set up over there, by the shelves,” Addison suggested, her voice steady despite the tremor of the ground beneath them. Matteo nodded, and together they began to unpack the bags that contained the remnants of their once-ordinary life.

As Caspian helped, he tried to make sense of the shadows his action figures cast, a futile attempt to impose normalcy on a situation far beyond his understanding. His mother had always affectionately called him ‘Casanova,’ a term that now felt out of place amidst the harshness of their current predicament.

“Mom, will things be okay?” Caspian asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Of course, Casanova,” Addison replied, pulling him close and kissing the top of his head. “We're together, that's what counts.”

Matteo busied himself with loading and checking the guns, the click-clack of the mechanisms punctuating the silence. Knives were carefully placed within reach, each item a grim reminder of the necessity for protection. Books, board games, canned and bagged foods lay stacked against the wall, in the corner, a large patch of dirt lay bare.

It was then the radio crackled to life with a message that pierced the air like the sirens that had sent them scurrying underground just hours before. “This is an emergency broadcast. The southern half of North America has sustained a large-scale attack...”

The family froze, the announcement settling heavily upon them. Matteo tightened his grip on the gun as Addison reached out and switched off the radio, her face pale and drawn. Caspian watched his parents, the foundations of his world shaken, his heart heavy with the realization that the comforts of his childhood may forever be changed.

“Listen to me,” Matteo said, kneeling before his son and locking eyes with him. “We have each other, and we're going to get through this. We're strong, resilient. We're Thornes.” There was a fire in his voice, a determination that Caspian latched onto like a lifeline.

“Stay sharp, stay smart, and stay together,” Addison added, her hand finding Matteo’s and squeezing it tight.

In the gloom of the basement, surrounded by the trappings of survival, the Thorne family settled in for the night, bound together by love and the unspoken promise to endure whatever lay ahead.

March 10, 2027

The family had survived for 3 months, or thats what they counted, on the food, and never got bored due to the vast amount of books and games. Some were made up. Some were not. But the medicine started running out when Addison caught a disease that no medicine seemed to cure. Eventually she advised Matteo to just save the medicine and let Gods plan work.

Caspian’s breath formed mist in the dim basement air as he huddled close to his parents, the cold concrete wall pressing against his back. The radio, once their lifeline to the outside world, now emitted nothing but static and occasional fragmented transmissions that spoke of a world tearing itself apart. Matteo had explained it to him in hushed tones: nations at war, alliances shattered, the sky itself seemed to rain fire as missiles streaked across continents.

“War is chaos, Cas,” Matteo said, the weight of his gun never far from his grasp. “Remember, it's not about who's right anymore—it's about who's left.”

Addison coughed, a hollow sound that had become more frequent over the weeks. Caspian turned his eyes to her, noticing the subtle changes—the paleness of her skin now marred by strange patches, the fatigue that seemed to cling to her like a shroud. They had all lost weight, the scarcity of food taking its toll, but with Addison, it was different. A sinister affliction was at work beneath the surface.

“Mom?” Caspian’s voice was barely above a whisper, fear lacing his words.

She attempted a reassuring smile, but it faltered. “I'm here, Casanova.” Her hand reached out, trembling as she touched his cheek, leaving a smudge that was colder than the basement air.

Days passed, each one indistinguishable from the last, marked only by the dwindling supplies and the persistent silence of the radio. But it was Addison’s condition that became the metronome of dread ticking away in the background. What began as a mere cough evolved into something monstrous. Her once smooth skin now hung loosely from her bones, peeling away in layers to reveal an scabby white substance threaded with dark veins.

“Is it... radiation sickness?” Caspian asked, struggling to comprehend the transformation before his eyes.

“Something like it,” Matteo replied, his voice brittle. He didn’t look at his wife as he spoke, instead focusing on cleaning his rifle—a futile gesture of control in a world where it no longer existed.

“Can we do anything?” Caspian insisted, desperation edging into his tone. He wanted to fight this invisible enemy, to protect his mother as they had been protected by the thick walls of their makeshift refuge.

“Caspian... my smart, sweet boy...” Addison’s voice broke, the words catching in her throat as tears streamed down her cheeks. She took a shaky breath, her voice a strained melody of sorrow. “Some battles are fought on the inside. And sometimes...” She paused, her voice barely a whisper as she struggled to find the strength to continue, “sometimes we don’t win them.” Her words hung heavy in the air, a weight that settled upon Matteo and Caspian’s hearts. The room fell into a profound silence as Addison closed her eyes, seeking solace within the depths of her own pain. After a moment, she opened her eyes, her gaze filled with a haunting sadness. “Caspian, my darling, there are battles that rage within us, battles that no one else can see or truly understand. They are the battles of the heart, the battles of the mind, and sometimes, they become battles of the soul. They can consume us, devouring every ounce of strength and hope we possess.” Her voice quivered with a mix of vulnerability and anguish. “I have fought those battles, my love. I have fought against the demons that whispered doubts, that clouded my vision and suffocated my spirit. I fought with every fiber of my being, hoping to emerge victorious, to reclaim the light that once burned so brightly within me.” A single tear traced a path down her face, mirroring the pain etched in her voice. “But, my sweet boy, sometimes the darkness is relentless. Sometimes it engulfs us, leaving us lost in a labyrinth of despair. It feels as if we are drowning beneath the weight of our own thoughts and emotions.”

Matteo’s hands stopped moving over the weapon, the finality of her words settling over them like another layer of debris. He reached for Addison, cradling her gently in his arms as if trying to shield her from the onslaught of the unseen foe within her body. Caspian joined them, wrapping his arms around them both, the Thorne family entwined in the face of the unrelenting storm that raged beyond their sanctuary.

As Addison’s breaths became more labored, Matteo tightened his grip on her hand, his own eyes brimming with tears. “Addison, please,” he pleaded softly, his voice thick with emotion.

But Addison continued, her words growing fainter with each passing moment. “And in those moments, Caspian, my dear child, remember this... Remember that even in the darkest of nights, there is still a flicker of light. Hold onto that light, no matter how small, for it is the spark of hope that can guide you through the abyss.”

Her strength waning, Addison managed a faint smile, her lips trembling. “My brave, beautiful boy... Never lose sight of that light. And know that even as I leave this world, my love for you will shine on, eternal and unwavering.”

With one final effort, Addison’s hand tightened around Matteo’s, her grip faltering as her body succumbed to the relentless grasp of death. A violent cough wracked her frail form, and her skin grew paler, the color draining from her cheeks.

“Caspian... my smart, sweet boy...” Her voice faded into a whisper, barely audible above the hushed sobs filling the room. And with those last words, Addison’s eyes fluttered closed, her final breath escaping her lips as Matteo held her close, his heart breaking with the weight of her parting wisdom.

March 11, 2026

The stillness of the basement seemed to mock the battle that once raged outside its walls. With soft, deliberate movements, Matteo carefully wrapped Addison in the quilt she had brought down all those months ago, her body light and fragile in his arms. Caspian stood beside him, his young face etched with premature lines of grief.

They laid her to rest in the corner where sprouts should have burst forth from the soil, but didn’t—a testament to life’s cruel fickleness. Caspian shoveled the last of the dirt, his hands steady despite the tremor in his heart. Matteo then placed a hand on his shoulder, anchoring him to this somber reality as he began to speak.

Matteo’s voice grew softer, his tone filled with a mix of sorrow and determination. “Remember, my son, strength is not measured by the absence of fear. It’s found in our ability to confront that fear, to face the darkness head-on and refuse to let it define us. We may feel overwhelmed at times, but it’s in those moments that we must dig deep, find the reserves of courage within us, and keep moving forward.”

He paused, his gaze fixed on Caspian’s tear-streaked face. “There will be days when the world feels unbearable, when hope seems like a distant memory. Lean on me, my son, and let us carry each other through the the nights your mother spoke of.”

Matteo’s voice quivered with a mixture of sadness and conviction. “We must resist the temptation to become bitter or lose faith in the inherent goodness that still resides within humanity.”

He took a deep breath, his voice steady but laden with the weight of their reality. “Evil exists, son, but so does love, never underestimate the power of a single act of goodness to counteract the evil that surrounds us.”

He paused, looking around the dimly lit basement that had been their world for three torturous months. “Your mother believed in you, believed that you were meant for great things. And so do I. Carry her in your heart, Caspian Winchester Thorne, and let her light guide you through the darkest times.” He let every syllable of Caspians name out slow and hard, an emphasis on his words.

The silence that followed was filled with unsaid words and unshed tears. They remained there, by Addison’s grave, until they grew tired.

Days passed, the radio’s empty static, which had lost all purpose, becoming the only sound echoing through the hollow space after conversation had dried up like the rations they consumed. The inevitable loomed over them; time was a luxury they no longer possessed.

One morning, as dawn crept through the cracks, Matteo stood before the sealed door that led to the world above. His expression was unreadable, a mask, stone carved by necessity. 

“Stay here, Cas,” he said, his hand resting on the doorknob, a barrier between the known and the unknown. “I have to see if there’s anything out there that can help us—medicine, food, something.”

“Let me come with—” Caspian started, but he was cut off by his fathers stare.

“No. It’s safer for you here. If I’m not back by nightfall...” He trailed off, unable to voice the possibility that hung between them like a specter.

“You’ll come back,” Caspian asserted, more to convince himself than to reassure his father.

Matteo gave a faint smile that didn’t reach his eyes and pulled his son close for a fierce hug. Then, with a deep breath, he opened the door and stepped into the uncertainty of the ash-filled morning. The heavy thud of the door closing behind him was the final punctuation on all they had endured together.

Caspian, left alone in the silence of the basement, clutched the large blanket that still held the warmth of his family, waiting for a return that would never come.

April 1, 2027

Caspian’s fingers trembled as they rifled through the dimly lit shelves, his breath misting in the cold that had seeped into their subterranean refuge. He grabbed a few dented cans, the labels peeling and illegible, remnants of a world that now felt like a distant dream. In the corner lay a black leather jacket, soft and worn, a birthday gift he had given his mother the previous year, that seemed to carry her embrace within its folds. He slipped it over his shoulders, the scent of her lingering in the fabric, a bittersweet comfort.

He grabbed his fathers rifle and Baretta m9, along with a small bag for ammo.

With methodical precision, he stuffed the meager supplies into an old duffle bag, the kitchen knife with its well-worn handle clinking against the cans. The radio, silent for weeks now, was next, followed by the dove figure carved by his father’s hands on a long-ago Christmas Eve. It fit snugly in his palm, the picture of his parents smiling up at him from the bottom, a talisman against the darkness.

He zipped the bag shut, hoisted it over his shoulder, and cast one last glance over the barren plot of dirt where they had laid his mother to rest. Then, with a resolute exhale, Caspian pushed open the basement door. A gust of acrid air rushed in, carrying with it the scent of copper and char, a stench that clawed at his throat.

The sky above was a tapestry of gray, streaked with darker smudges that swirled and danced like macabre snowflakes. Ash, not snow. His steps crunched on a carpet of it as he navigated the ruins of what once had been his neighborhood. Flames still gnawed at the skeletons of homes, the heat offering a twisted parody of warmth.

Caspian moved through the desolation with a ghost’s silence, the memories of this place haunting his every step. His home, or what remained of it, stood ravaged by the relentless bombing, now nothing more than fragile walls and scorched earth. He paused at the threshold, heart heavy with trepidation and sorrow.

Amidst the wreckage, something fluttered—a scrap of paper pinned beneath a shard of glass. Caspian reached for it, fingers brushing against the rough edges as he unfurled the note. Matteo’s handwriting, familiar and steady even in chaos, spilled across the page:

In the gripping saga of "Thorne," Caspian Winchester Thorne emerges as the central figure, his resilience and determination tested to their limits against the backdrop of a world ravaged by destruction and despair. As Caspian confronts each challenge and endures heart-wrenching loss, his character is tempered in the crucible of adversity, his spirit unyielding in the face of overwhelming odds. Amidst the profound grief of losing his parents and the weight of responsibility thrust upon him, Caspian's journey becomes an exploration of human resilience and the enduring power of lasting familial bonds to sustain hope amidst the darkest of times.

Through his unwavering courage and relentless determination, Caspian embodies the indomitable spirit of the Thorne legacy, offering a beacon of light in a world shrouded in darkness. As he navigates the treacherous terrain of a post-nuclear society, Caspian's mind, body, and soul is tested, not only by the chemicals, elements, and scarcity of supplies, but by faith. In "Thorne," author T. Bird delivers a riveting narrative that resonates with themes of loss, love, and the enduring power of hope, in a society where there is none.

 Authors Note: Thank you for reading Thorne: Prologue, I worked tirelessly on it, on the little father and mother monlogues as well. It took hours just to find the right words, lol. So please, be patient, the first chapter will be released soon.

A few cover ideas, feel free to vote.