Chrollo Hunter Hunter Novels & Stories

she asks, her voice steady despite the fear that lingers beneath. The hunter shifts uncomfortably, his gaze darting around as if searching for an escape. “She’s part of something ancient. Something that was meant to be hidden. Her powers are linked to a prophecy, a force that was sealed away long ago. The hunters—our group—were tasked with finding and controlling it.” My heart races as the implications of his words sink in. “A prophecy? What are you talking about?” The hunter’s voice drops to a whisper, filled with a sense of dread. “The prophecy speaks of a time when the barriers between worlds would weaken. When a being with extraordinary powers would emerge. Cheryl—she’s the key to that p

Malcolm always used deceit and trickery to obtain his goals, but Hunter was different. He committed all the killings and crimes that the Quinn family needed to do. This was a man who would not hesitate to kill someone, and his hands were stained with the blood of many people who lost their lives to the Quinn family. How could Joshua help someone like this? On top of that…the person Hunter had killed this time…was Cheryl, the woman who had worked alongside Joshua and treated him well for more than six months. The first few times when Luna bumped into Cheryl at Joshua's place, she was always there to deliver food to him or help him apply medications to his wound.

They followed the old man to their room where a timer ticked down: one hour. Hunter finally let go of her hand and started pacing. "Mind telling me your name?" Chloe asked, breaking the silence. "What?" He stopped, glancing at her. She was pale, her light brown hair framing dark green eyes. Young, beautiful. "How old are you?" "Nineteen. Forever, I guess," she said with a nervous laugh. He let out a dry chuckle. "Hunter. He paused. I’ve got a reason to live." "What’s that?"

I had to fix things, not just for her but for myself. “Loraine!” Hunter’s booming voice broke through my thoughts. He pushed off the wall where he’d been leaning, his grin widening. “You’re just in time. We’re about to up the stakes.” “Oh no,” Chloe groaned, though she was smiling. “This better not be another one of your ridiculous games.” Hunter smirked. “Come on, my games are legendary.” “They’re legendary for getting people in trouble,” Sasha pointed out, narrowing her eyes.

She collapsed onto the leather, trembling and satisfied — like someone who’d finally been branded by the fire they’d always chased or craved. Hunter straightened his shirt and looked down at the girl. "Tell Mario to bring me something cold." "Y-yes, sir," she breathed. He walked away, his fury dulled but not dead. He needed a drink. A few minutes later, Mario, the old bartender with rolled sleeves and a weathered face, handed Hunter a fresh glass of whiskey. "Rough night?" Hunter gave a tired chuckle. "You could say that." Mario nodded. "You keep cleaning the shadows, Devil, but they’ll always crawl back."

He thinks he can get closer to us, but as soon as he does, Hunter attacks, and he has to retreat. "Enough Hunter. We have played enough games. We had to go back to our pack. Kill him," I say. Although I enjoyed playing this little game with my brother, I wanted to get to Bonita and see how she was doing. I do not trust Oscar. I believe he does have another mate, but I do not want him near my mate. He will try to rape her or anything to hurt me. He is so furious at her as well. Hunter does not wait a moment. He attacks my brother and grabs him by the throat. Hunter breaks his neck. And while breaking his neck, he puts his clothes into Christopher's heart and rips it out. As Christopher dies,

“12 out of 21 deer have been killed by this hunter.” Holding my spear, I am trying to catch my breath while paying my whole attention to the keeper. Keepers are the one who has the information of how many kills a hunter has in an hour. “None other than, Raffi of the Ambrose’s!” I saw my father fixing his hunter’s robe while wearing his huge smile. The whole tribe is excited especially the women of which gender I belong to. I started to walk to the wooden stage created by the tribe for this kind of ceremony. Everybody is happy and I hope this will last forever.

Thanks to my heightened senses, I heard the engine sound of Hunter's jeep as he pulled up outside the packhouse. Drake looked out the window, spotting Hunter at the front. "He's already here." We immediately went outside to meet Hunter who just came back from tracking. Hunter, being hunter, was basically good at everything. Samantha must have hidden Damien really well for Hunter to actually take this long to be able to find a lead. "Luna Catherine, Beta Drake" Hunter greeted us as soon as he got out of his jeep. My eyes suddenly dropped to look at the long brown envelope in his hand.

INTRODUCTION My name is Kacela. I am twenty-one years old, and I am a werewolf hunter. And I have a secret. I am a werewolf. I was raised in a family of werewolf hunters. My father, mother and older brother are all werewolf hunters, and I made my first kill when I was twelve years old. I am trained in weaponry and hand to hand combat as well as other skills that I use in the field, like tracking. I’m also exceptionally good at finding werewolves who don’t want to be found using a variety of techniques, but mostly common sense and computer skills. It’s a family business and it keeps us well employed and financially stable. We move around a lot because of it.

They were like specially trained assassins and even supernaturals with all their abilities find it out to shake them off. That's who my family were, the Holmes. My father was a hunter, his father was a hunter then my great grand mother was a hunter and it went on like that, as far back as centuries. It was a mantle that has always been passed from generations to generations and it was my turn now. My name is Edna Holmes, the latest hunter from the Holmes family. I hunt wolves and vampires for a living. My reason? Mine was a little different from the others who fought to protect.