Cannon Fodder Novels & Stories

“Fire!” Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Multiple cannon shots were fired with the order from the commander. The cannons did not use steel balls, but were actually firing condensed mana. They were loaded with mana crystals as their ammo. The beams from the cannons pierced through the bodies of the monsters. Their corpses laid flat on top of the barrier “Again!” Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! The cannons were fired again and more of the monsters were shot down. The roars, shrieks and howls of the beasts filled their ears along with the cannon shots.

He began explaining in more detail about where he lived and how he lost his spiritual power. I replaced- no, more like placed in a body. Bella, according to earth, was comparable to cannon fodder. She was only mentioned in the script twice as "rich girl A". First was when she had a crush on the male lead in elementary and second was during middle school. The cotton ball started showing me what the people's destiny are, or what he had written for everyone here. He explained that destiny can always change based on certain factors, one new factor is me.

"It is a tourniquet." Cord waved me over. Zane and I walked to the drafting table. Cord was not drawing swords. He was not drawing the crude, heavy cannons we had seen on the beach. He was drawing an engine. "The humans cast their iron thick because they don't know how to temper it," Cord said, speaking with the rapid, unyielding cadence of a man who had completely abandoned theory for absolute, lethal application. "Their cannons are heavy. They require horses and flat ground to move. They fire in a straight, Euclidean trajectory. It is primitive."

In more modern times we called them 'cannon fodder'. "Since you haven't bothered to update your definition of the term masculine in millennia, I can understand you treating men like a boot knife in a gun fight," I explained. "Not at all what you want, but better than dying," I added. "You believe we think so little of you?" Caitlyn asked. "Need I reference all the women who came to my defense when Leona first shot at me? Or where Khalid is? Or what is going to be the fate of every male all of you have bred with over the centuries before now?" I replied.

Deadly. Across from us, human armies stand tall with tanks and bullets and fear. Their numbers mean nothing. The moment the first shot fires, we charge. Guns. Claws. Carnage. We don’t stop until the city drowns in ash and silence. ——— Buildings fall. Flames rage. I scream until my throat bleeds. Caden roars beside me, his body burning bright, his fire scorching glass and metal. The force of it shatters windows. People drop to the ground, curled into themselves, sobbing from the weight of our wrath.

~ CASPIAN ~ By afternoon, every living soul in my pack is getting ready for war. I'm in the armory, helping Callan ensure the weapons are properly distributed and arranged in order. Bombs. Grenades. Cannons. Wolfsbane gunpowder. Missile systems. Anything that can help defeat the enemy. The warriors around us are gearing up already, some loading more guns and explosives into different giant boxes.

It had nothing to do with wanting the stupid male. He was wrong, it had everything to do with wanting his omega, and he shouldn’t have ever been ashamed or adverse to the idea. Honestly, Lexus had fallen victim to the teaching he’d heard again and again as a youngling. Male omegas were rut aids, barren wombs to fuck and knot without consequences. Blood bitches good for the endorphin high and decent bartering tools to loan out for favors of trade. Unworthy creatures for mating and bonding, a flaw of their race.

Every year, the one to scatter the most manure in the shortest time would be the king among the children of the same age group. Moreover, they would receive a prize when they got home. Every single child from the two Family would have to scatter the manure at least once before they reached eighteen years old. William, Rex, Nathan, Lily, and the others were no exception. It was a ritual. Since the Cannon Family was a military family, most of their children would grow up to become part of the army. They did not want weaklings that could not withstand the harsh realities of life.

I fired a response. “Do you always answer a question with a question” “Yes”, I said nonchalantly. “I’m just curious is all. Cannon is a weird last name so I just assumed it’s a nickname given to you when you served or am I wrong?” “I’m good with ammo. Guns, rifles, cannons hence the nickname” It was better than telling her, I had a weird obsession with guns and I fucking liked killing people like bugs. “What was it like? Being a Marine” Shit.

On the fifth day we are able to see their army camped up within the forest. The hunters come from every corner of society, a fitting end for a paranoid species that never escaped the pull of genocidal power-lust. They carry guns here, those soulless clunks of metal. They call them "arms" - but they aren’t. Arms are what your loved ones hug you with, maybe the cold kind are what you get when no-one hugged you enough. They are positioning large cannon looking type weapons around the boundary wall. Their intent is clear - they will blast their way in, one way or another.