Blood Hunters Game Novels & Stories

I hollered as I shifted to hunt down the bastards. Carson quickly caught the first two and eliminated them. The stupid assholes had thought coming back together half a mile from the clearing was going to help them. We crept through the forest silently, searching for the last rogue. We scouted the forest for hours and had just picked up its scent when a frantic call echoed through the forest. We froze misstep, trying to pick it up again if it was uttered again. Moments later a low-pitched bird call followed by a rapid, stressful one. Fuck. We looked around anxiously. ‘Falcon, hunters are here. What do we do?’

Christopher and Zyter exchanged a fierce glance, their determination unshakeable. Suddenly, the tranquility shattered as the Blood Ghosts emerged from the darkness. They materialized before the hunters, their red eyes glowing with malice. The sight sent shivers down Christopher's spine, but he steadied himself, gripping his sword tightly. The Ghosts were relentless, their numbers seemingly endless.

This sentiment is quite understandable, as their lineage lacks werewolf genes, unlike the Valentines and the other retired families known as true-blood hunters. These true-blood hunters possess the coveted werewolf genes that set them apart. In contrast, families like The McKnights and the current hunters within the bureau fall into the category of Lesser Hunters. These Lesser Hunters were once fully human but have acquired supernatural abilities, somewhat akin to those of the true-bloods, through the use of Talismans. While they may not match the true-bloods in strength, they still manage to get the job done.

My chest tightens as I watch them disappear down the hall, Elise not sparing me another glance. Outside, the battlefield is chaos. The scent of blood and gunpowder hangs heavy in the air as the hunters swarm toward the house. “Stay close!” I shout to my group, moving in tandem with Greta, Caleb, Raina, and Eleanor. The hunters are relentless, their weapons flashing as they fire into the fray. Greta is the first to retaliate, her knife slicing through the air with deadly precision as she takes down one of them. I turn to watch Jack and his men, noting that Jack understands how guns work, how the shots are fired, and knows how to dodge an incoming bullet, his body moving fluidly as he advances

A flash of movement. A glint of glass and metal catching the weak floodlight. Hunters. My blood goes cold. They’re up there. Hidden in the skeleton of the stadium roof, rifles braced against the steel. I know that smell; burning silver, UV rounds. Death designed for wolves. “Hunters!” I scream, but my voice is swallowed by the chaos below. A crack splits the air, deafening. The first bullet slams into a Voss wolf mid-shift, and he goes down screaming, skin blistering where the round burns. Another shot follows, clipping a Draven’s shoulder, smoke rising from the wound.

My face slowly contorts into confusion. “Let me tell you something, Mr. Price. You're not the first to have been a victim of this game. There had been several people before you and none of them survived. This game of ours is featured on dark webs which only wealthy people who don't give a single damn about anyone's life watches. They pay us. We get paid for killing people. If you have not noticed, the hunters have a lot of body cameras all over them. There are also hidden cameras on several spots of the woods. It's like a hunger game isn't it? The only difference is that there are only two things you can do to lengthen your miserable life; run and hide,” the masked man explains. “But why me?

The hunter had become the hunted. And the only question that remained: how many souls would have to fall before this blood-soaked game finally reached its end?

Yet, they constantly pulled the trigger and took the lives of the bounty hunters who rushed in as if they were playing an exhilarating game. However, Tyr and others had limited ammunition. Soon, all of their bullets were used up. At the entrance to the village, there were dozens of corpses lying around on the ground. The whole scene looked pretty bloody. “The warm-up is over. Next, the game will officially begin.” Tyr pulled out his Ormr Dagger and climbed out of the trench. His figure was flashing through, and he danced to the paces of Nine Steps to Disorientation. He used an extremely bizarre pace to rush toward those dumbfounded bounty hunters.

I watched as the silver burned his palm, but he didn’t make a sound, he just threw the knife from my hand across the room. The look in his eyes turned from anger to crazed. I knew he was bound to slip up in this frenzied state. Luckily for me, I was a Hunter. No, I wasn’t just a Hunter, I was the best Hunter in The Academy. I knew I needed clarity, I needed to remain calm, and the only way I could do that was to get a read on his thoughts. He grabbed my throat and I instinctively tried to pry his hands away, but in reality I was reading him like a fucking book. He planned to kidnap me, and throw me into a hallucination, one where I would never know the difference between real and fake. He wa

(Bright’s POV) This Hunting Game is brutal. It’s not just a friendly game where you try to run away from their tomato guns just so you don’t get eliminated from the game. This is an actual survival game. It’s about strategy, luck, and sometimes, betrayal. I’ve seen some of them that came in groups, but ended up shooting each other. I don't even know why I'm in this stupid thing, but here I am, running, dodging, and trying not to get caught by whatever insane rules they’ve set up.