The End Isn’t the End: Why We Keep Coming Back to Apocalypse Fiction

We’ve seen it a hundred times. Cities collapse. Ash in the air. The sky is red or empty or eerily still. And yet—we keep coming back. Episode 14 of the Creatinuum podcast “At World's (and Word's) End: The Apocalypse in Fiction” talk about why we’re still drawn to end-of-days stories.

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For a genre that thrives on destruction, it's surprisingly good at pulling people in, whether it's a book, a show, or a game. Whether it’s nuclear fallout, a virus, or divine judgment, stories of the end don’t fade. They evolve.

The Apocalypse Is a Stage

Let’s be real. The apocalypse? It’s theatrical.

It’s spectacle, yes—but it’s also structure. It gives writers a built-in tension, a ticking clock. And for readers or viewers, it strips away the everyday noise. What matters in the middle of an extinction event? Who do you become when there’s nothing left to hide behind?

That’s the draw. In The Handmaid’s Tale, The Walking Dead, even 1984, it’s never just about destruction. It’s about systems breaking down, power shifting, identities unraveling. And in a weird way, it feels...familiar.

We’re the Villain, Too

We’re usually the reason the world ends.

Whether it’s through war, AI, climate collapse, or unchecked ambition, humans tend to write themselves into the villain role. And we know it.

Apocalypse fiction leans into that self-awareness. Black Mirror thrives on it. Mass Effect, Contagion, War of the Worlds—all stories where we either create the downfall or provoke it.

It’s humbling. And a little terrifying. Because it suggests we deserve the fall, or at least that we’ve been warned. Again and again.

Endings Look Different Everywhere

Not all apocalypses are loud.

In some cultures, endings are cyclical, not final. Think of Hinduism’s idea of Samsara—life, death, and rebirth—or Norse mythology’s Ragnarök, which ends the world only to begin another. In these versions, the apocalypse isn’t a wall; it’s a door.

That’s a pretty different vibe from the fire-and-brimstone doom Western stories lean into. But it reminds us that the way we imagine the end often says more about our worldview than about the world itself.

Every culture with a creation story also has an ending. We’re wired to imagine it.

Sometimes the End Is Just Loneliness

Immortality, isolation, being the last one standing is its own kind of apocalypse.

You don’t need fire or monsters. Just time. Or memory. Or silence.

What if the apocalypse isn’t external at all? What if it’s just...being forgotten? Being left behind? In these stories, survival isn’t triumph. It’s a slow ache. A personal extinction. A world that moves on without you.

Why Do We Keep Watching It Burn?

Maybe we need these stories. Maybe we need to imagine endings so we can think about beginnings.

Apocalypse fiction lets us confront fear without falling apart. It gives us a mirror to hold up to our own mess, then asks: if it all crumbles, what’s still worth saving?

So we keep coming back. Not because we want the world to end, but because we want to believe we could survive it. Maybe even rebuild it. Maybe even make it better.

Even if it’s just fiction.

Especially because it’s fiction.

Listen in full to At World's (and Word's) End: The Apocalypse in Fiction available on Simplecast, Spotify, Apple, and other platforms.