Doomed To Be Cannon Fodder Novels & Stories

The bond flooded with his absolute, unwavering command: GO. We fled into the dark tunnel, leaving the heart of darkness behind. We had a location. A lighthouse. And we had proof that the love we carried, the memories of a gentler legacy, could be a weapon. But as we stumbled into the carnage-filled canyon where our pack members lay fallen, the cost was written in blood. And the echoing shriek of a wounded, furious goddess promised the war was far from over.

Dexter The stench of blood and burning flesh clung to the air like a second skin. The battlefield—if that’s what you could call the wasteland of mangled bodies—was finally silent. Three fucking days of fighting, no food, barely any rest. Just steel against flesh, gunpowder thick in the wind, the cries of rogues as we cut them down before they could breach our borders. They had been desperate this time, coming in waves, clawing at any opening they could find. But they were fucking fools.

The things included my tattered, patched-up old coat, the dusty work pants Dad wore for his act, the ledger of fabricated debts, and the tires of the beat-up bicycle that made sounds louder than the broken bell. Then, they lit everything on fire. Flames leaped up at once, greedily devouring these props all filled with nothing but lies. Mom sobbed as she watched the items burn. "There are no creditors. There's no 5,000,000-dollar debt. We have so much money that we don't even know what to do with it… You don't have to collect bottles or save up on electricity anymore…" Her hands trembled as she pulled out a black card from her bag, a symbol of unlimited wealth. She wanted to throw the card in

“THIS IS AN ENDLESS CYCLE OF MY PERSONAL HELL AND NIGHTMARE AND I DON’T THINK I’LL BE ABLE TO GET OFF THIS PERSONAL HELL.” “I AM DOOMED TO DIE IN THIS PLACE!!”

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.

“Weapons can be found, crafted, or acquired. We shall explore every avenue, seek allies who share our cause, and arm ourselves with whatever we can muster. We will not be deterred by the lack of weaponry. What matters is our unwavering resolve to stand and fight.” The chorus of naysayers was slowly being drowned out by those who felt the flicker of hope ignite within them. “He speaks the truth.” “Enough is enough. We have been subjugated for far too long.” “I would rather face death with honor than live in perpetual fear.” Cain’s heart swelled with pride as the sparks of determination began to light up the once-uncertain faces before him.

I could feel the tension in the air, my chest tightening as I listened, unable to imagine the fear they must have felt. "They lined us up," he continued, his eyes clouded with the memory, "and before we knew it, they opened fire. No warning. Just... bullets. Spraying us like we were nothing. Like we didn’t matter. We were left for dead in the middle of that wasteland. That’s how they dealt with us. I guess we were disposable."

No acknowledgment of my humanity. He asks for the whiskey. The pain that hits me isn't sharp like a slap. It’s dull and heavy. It’s the feeling of drowning when you thought you’d found a raft. To Spadino, I am a toy to be broken. To Aureliano, I am a receipt to be burned. To Ciro, I am nothing at all. Hope is a dangerous thing in this house. It’s a poison worse than cyanide, because it kills you slowly. It makes you think you can survive the monsters by letting them in.

The people with everything to lose. "How many people know your father's cooperating?" I asked. "Maybe five." "Then they'll kill him." Cole looked at me. "Probably." No comfort. Just truth. And in this moment, that was all we had. "We could die here," I said. "Any night." "I won't let that happen." "You can't promise that." "No. But I won't stop trying." I moved closer. Just an inch. "Then stop fighting this," I said. "Stop fighting me."

I will have to carry the heavy burden of responsibilities on my shoulders. It was not fair. But since when was life fair to anyone? And I believed that the strongest of all faced the worst trials. I stood up and faced my pack members. Finn too was feeling depressed but he was one strong lycan. At least, I still have him with me. At least I have found a new best friend who I can count on for the rest of my life. We carried our fallen warriors, including my dad and grandpa. The warriors carried them on their shoulders with utter respect as they continued to grieve for them.