TEOTWAWKI, WTSHTF, POST-APOCALYPSE VISION - AN EXCERPT FROM "31 DYSTOPIAN REALMS FOR OCTOBER" - PIGORMORTIS

 

Coming soon to the "31 for October" series, "31 Dystopian Realms for October". 31 chances for Armageddon.  31 times the world will end. 31 apocalyptic visions. Here is one of them:

PIGORMORTIS

The pigs have gone feral; they’re running the place.

With squeals as their carol, and sharp tusks on their face.

They waddle and they thresh.  Men cry like a baby.

The hogs dine on our flesh, with blood as their gravy. 

There is no place to hide, their numbers are legion.

Pigs spread far and wide, filling every region.

Call the National Guard.  A line drawn in the sand.

Soldiers’ nerves frayed and jarred, down the road came the band. 

A volley of shots tried, yet the troops are harrowed.

For each swine that has died, twelve more have been farrowed. 

A ravenous sounder, nary a soul was spared.

The army has floundered; still the pigs’ fangs stay bared. 

The citizens take flight, with defeat ‘round the bend.

Because try as they might, hogs rush in like the wind. 

Though screams are soon silent, hooves beat down like thunder. 

The hoard is so violent, all trampled asunder. 

The apocalypse came, in implausible form.

Our defenses were lame, from attack out of norm.

Once football apparel, now it’s us in disgrace.

The pigs have gone feral; they’re running the place.

The world had long since gone completely mad. Chaos reigned supreme. Then, a very credible threat emerged that made things even worse. It began with whispers in hushed conversations among farmers and hunters. Feral pigs, once considered a nuisance confined to the wild, were multiplying at an alarming rate for inexplicable reasons which defied logic and science. But the rose-tinted glasses of the media and government saw the threat as opportunity. The situation was politicized rather than addressed head-on. The safety of the citizens was an afterthought at best. 

Headlines danced across the screens, spinning tales of prosperity and progress. News anchors and other talking heads plastered smiles on their faces, assuring the public that all was well. The current leadership was in complete control. They spoke of economic growth, scientific advancements, and the blissful ignorance spread like wildfire.

Behind closed doors, a different story unfolded. Scientists and experts used a second set of non-public-facing charts and graphs that warned of the impending danger. Their duplicity revealed a problem spiraling out of control, but only to those behind the curtain. These warnings were drowned out by the deafening silence of denial. Fear, like an invisible force, gripped the hearts of those in power – specifically, the loss of status quo. They were paralyzed, unable to confront the growing pig menace directly, by their blind ambition and reckless disregard for the citizens.

So the whitewashing began. The government downplayed the situation, labeling it as a localized issue. While conformity to these efforts was mandatory, they lied that the problem was easily contained. They pointed fingers at isolated incidents, blaming opposing political powers for the feral pig population explosion while stating that the current government was here to clean up those messes. The media happily echoed their sentiments, perpetuating the illusion that all was under control.

The public was fed a steady diet of misinformation, a feast of half-truths and sugar-coated lies. They were urged to carry on with their lives, to go about their daily routines without a hint of concern. And so, the seeds of complacency were sown.  The problem festered and grew, unnoticed by most.

Meanwhile, out in the fields and forests, the feral pigs multiplied. They reveled in their newfound freedom, roaming unchecked, devouring everything in their path. Their population swelled and adapted. The world was their playground, and humanity was oblivious to the impending doom.

Little did they know that while they ignored the problem, the pigs grew bolder, stronger, and smarter. They organized, forming alliances, and adapted to their environment and potential threat. Their grunts and snorts turned into whispers, whispers of rebellion and dominance. Rudimentary language formed.

And so, the stage was set for an unlikely post-apocalyptic tale, a battle between man and pig, fear and resilience. The world trembled under the weight of Pigormortis.

In the hallowed halls of power, the President of the United States stood before a podium. They led his frail and palsied form on stage to avoid another falling incident and thereby undermine confidence. The nation needed reassurance, after all, not another gaffe for the spin doctors to address. The cameras flashed, capturing the less-than-usually confused look in his eyes. He addressed the feral pig crisis that plagued the world with his typical lack of grace and poise.

“My fellow Americans,” he proclaimed in a rehearsed and slightly incoherent manner, “I stand before you today to announce that we have contained the thing. That issues deal. You know, the porcine, umm, the feral…the the the feral feral pig problem. Thanks to the efforts of our dedicated farmers and hunters, of which they hunt and farm, we have seen a significant decrease in their numbers. Not the hunters and farmers, but those animal things. And we must give thanks to the hunters and the farmers for their efforts, too. The pigs. Efforts with them. I am pleased to inform you that through my concerted efforts through emergency legislation and superb leadership, we are on the verge of declaring this crisis over due to my efforts.”

As the President was guided out the correct way to leave the nation’s stage rather than left to his own device, citizens breathed a collective sigh of relief. The President’s words echoed through the airwaves. His loyal constituates considerd the matter solved. The media interpreted and then clarified his message as one of triumph, highlighting the government's swift response and effective containment efforts and resumed their usual mudslinging at opposing ideologies. Not all were as easily swayed.

Behind closed doors, a different narrative unfolded. In secret chambers, world leaders convened. Their discussions shrouded a cloak of secrecy. They exchanged whispers.  They discussed concerns and uncertainties. It was clear that the feral pig threat persisted. Its reach spread ominously across borders and oceans, despite travel bans, scientific advancements, and imposed restrictions enforced against civil liberties.

As the days passed, a strange phenomenon gripped the world. The Internet, once a beacon of connectivity and information, began to falter. Reports went missing, delays plagued communication, and the flow of knowledge was disrupted. The press, always quick to offer an explanation, attributed these peculiar occurrences to sunspots. They dismissed any notion of a deliberate act yet the information that was filtered through seemed redacted or complicit in nature.

It was almost as if the big tech companies had conspired to hide the truth. Information would never be suppressed, most thought. Tech companies had always been on the side of unbiased information, hadn’t it?

Whispers of doubt stirred among the population. They sensed something amiss, a deliberate manipulation of truth. The world hungered for answers. They were met with empty assurances and obfuscation. The very fabric of information seemed to unravel, leaving them stranded in a sea of uncertainty.

A sinister veil cloaked the reality of the feral pig menace. The government’s claims of containment seemed hollow. The world stood on the precipice of a catastrophe, unaware of the true scale of the threat that lurked in the shadows.

The President, facing mounting pressure as the feral pig crisis escalated beyond control, sought a scapegoat to appease an outraged populace. Enter the Presidentially appointed Porcine Expert, a renowned figure in the field of wildlife management and cutting-edge science. Initially hailed as the savior who would solve the pig problem, this expert soon found himself thrust into a negative spotlight. He bore the weight of the government's failures. Solely.

As the situation worsened and the feral pigs grew more aggressive, the President hastily turned the tables. He publically blamed the Porcine Expert for his flawed strategies and inadequate response. In a public address, the President cast the man as the sacrificial lamb for the nation’s outrage. Under the bus, the Porcine Expert was effectively thrown.

The media eagerly seized upon this turn of events, painting the expert as a villain. Once praising his efforts, they now labeled him a symbol of incompetence and negligence. Headlines screamed of his alleged mishandling of the crisis, placing the blame solely on his shoulders. The public, hungry for someone to hold accountable, lashed out at the fallen expert. Their frustration aimed at the target of the recently celebrated figure.

Some saw through the façade that the Porcine Expert had become a convenient scapegoat, a sacrificial offering to divert attention from the government’s own shortcomings. The truth was buried beneath layers of deceit. The feral pig menace continued to wreak havoc on the world, indifferent to the political machinations that played out in the shadows.

The Presidentially appointed Porcine Expert, once hailed as the authority on all matters related to the porcine invasion, became a symbol of a larger systemic failure. His fall from grace served as a stark reminder of the consequences that awaited those who dared challenge the status quo. As the crisis deepened, the true extent of the government’s complicity in allowing fear to dictate their actions became increasingly evident. It left the nation to ponder the price paid by those sacrificed at the altar of political corruption.

The stage was set for a battle not only against the relentless pigs but against the manipulation of truth itself. As the world grappled with the unraveling of reliable information, the feral pigs grew stronger. Their presence expanded like a dark stain on the tapestry of civilization. The struggle for survival, both against the porcine invaders and the erosion of trust, was about to reach its boiling point.

In the midst of the feral pig crisis and the chaos it wrought upon the nation, a dark cloud of international tension loomed. Exploiting the vulnerability and distraction caused by the porcine invasion, a hostile foreign nation seized the opportunity to strike a devastating blow. Without warning, they launched a nuclear assault against the heartland of the country. The strike caught the nation off guard and rendered its defenses ineffective.

Multiple detonations sent shockwaves rippling across the land. It unleashed destruction and chaos on an unprecedented scale. The once-mighty nation was brought to its knees. Its infrastructure shattered. Its power grid crippled. Darkness enveloped the once vibrant cities, plunging them into an eerie silence broken only by the sounds of suffering and despair.

As the nation struggled to regain its footing, a grim realization dawned upon the survivors. The radiation that permeated the air and soil, meant to be a harbinger of death, seemed to have an unforeseen effect on the feral pigs. Instead of succumbing to the toxic aftermath, the porcine invaders adapted. Their already formidable nature was further enhanced by the radioactive energy.

These mutant pigs became even more ferocious and cunning. Their snouts foraged in the irradiated wastelands, uncovering sustenance in the most desolate of places. They multiplied at an alarming rate, their numbers swelling in the post-apocalyptic landscape.

In this twisted turn of events, the porcine menace grew exponentially. Their hulking forms dominated the ruined streets. Their grunts echoed through the decimated remnants of civilization. With each passing day, their presence became more pronounced. Their territorial reach expanded beyond imagination. They became a reminder of the unchecked fears and failures that had allowed them to thrive.

As survivors huddled in makeshift shelters, their lives teetering on the edge of desperation, they found themselves trapped between two nightmares: the aftermath of a devastating nuclear strike and the relentless onslaught of the mutant feral pigs. The once-rich agricultural lands now became barren battlegrounds. Humanity fought for its very survival against this monstrous amalgamation of fear and radiation.

The very threat that had initially instigated the crisis, the feral pigs, had evolved into an even greater danger. Their resilience in the face of annihilation compounded the problem beyond imagination. The future hung in the balance, teetering on the edge of extinction as humanity grappled with the consequences of its own failure.

In the wake of the nuclear strike and the relentless onslaught of the mutant feral pigs, America found itself at the brink of collapse. The once-mighty nation struggled to confront the dual threats that now loomed over its shattered landscape. The hostile foreign nation continued to exploit the vulnerability of a nation gasping for survival with eyes as dead and uncaring as the throng of pigs.

As the days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months, the world watched in despair as the situation grew increasingly dire. The United States government had been silenced by the devastating blow and the disarray that followed. There was not enough semblance of recovery to convey a sense of hope or even offer a plan whatsoever.

Sympathizers of the hostile foreign nation capitalized on the nation’s weakened state. They infiltrated the remnants of power structures, spreading their influence like a cancer in a dying body. Already grappling with the mutant pig menace and the fallout of the nuclear strike, people now faced the insidious threat of foreign control.

In the vacuum of leadership, survivors were exploited and enslaved. Meager resources were stolen for the benefit of overseers. The world watched as the once-great nation teetered on the edge of oblivion. The plight of America seemed to fade into insignificance amidst the horrors unleashed by fear, negligence, and the unyielding march of the mutant pigs.

The situation grew ever more perilous in the absence of a unified force to combat the dual threats. The cries for help went unanswered, drowned out by the sounds of chaos and desperation. The world stood witness to the consequences of allowing fear to paralyze a nation, allowing it to be consumed from within and exploited by external forces. Nations relying on the United States began to crumble, also descending into economic chaos and abject poverty. Starvation followed. Riots and violence further exasperated conditions.

As the mutant feral pigs roamed the desolate wastelands, the remnants of humanity found themselves locked in a battle they had initially refused to face. It demanded attention and unavailable resources. The struggle for survival seemed insurmountable.

The world grappled with the haunting realization that there was no savior on the horizon. There was no resounding voice to rally the fractured remains of society. The consequences of allowing fear to rule, of ignoring the warnings and whitewashing the truth, had led humanity to the precipice of its own demise. The echoes of what could have been reverberated through the desolate landscapes as a solemn reminder of the price paid for complacency.

The end came in implausible form. The pigs had gone feral. They were running the place.