Dungeon Predator Novels & Stories

When he's done, he speaks through the holographic screen again. "I have changed the arena to resemble the predalion's natural habitat. I suggest using the environment to your advantage." When the Professor's head and the screen disappear, the predalion lets out another roar before crouching down. It then lunges at Chadd and me. Pushing Chadd out of the way, I shoot out my hands and catch the predalion before it can take a bite out of me. Still, with its strength alone, the predalion pushes me back. My feet skid against the metal floor as the predalion keeps pushing me. Pushing and knocking me into the ditch, I still manage to keep my hands up.

He breathed out a sigh of relief. "What are you all still waiting for?" Daemon growled sharply. "Set up a tent for her!!" His men were the first that swung into action. The empty and lifeless pathway was filled with clattering boots rushing to do what the Predator had ordered them to do. They still feared him. In fact, after the incident concerning one of them who had poisoned the predator, all the men were scared for their lives. They were surprised at Daemon's inaction, and they waited to see if he would lash out against all of them.

So I can't hesitate here because my life depends on it. The creature slowly crawls down the wall of the dungeon in search of food but it does not know that it is about to become the 'food'. Finally, the creature is just in front of my shelter where I am staying in stealth. A few meters away from me. Don't worry stomach I won't let you down. In a flash, I use sprint and dashed out from my shelter closing in the distance in a few secs and land a strike using my iron claws exactly on its head.

Every element inside the dungeon acted like a natural copy mechanism—taken one day; replaced the next. Would-be adventurers trembled at the thought of entering a dungeon. Here, at the core of JDA operations, they watched trained soldiers patrol in rotating squads, darting between cavern entrances to maintain monster populations in check. Combat squads remained on standby, ready to quell any emergent threat with precision strike weaponry or anti-monster drones.

Now I would kill my friend and relish every drop of his blood. I pushed my speed feeling the burn in my wings. It didn't matter. I approached his lair, my fire burning the tops of the trees in front of me. Dragons kept their inner dwelling secret. Even when we played cards, we only saw a few rooms. I landed on a flat surface near a large turret and shifted. I leapt to a balcony catching an iron rail and pulling myself up. I knew the place was big, but I wasn't leaving without Acasia. Oh and blood. A lot of blood.

In the next moment, he was punching him right in the nose. My mouth fell open in horror. Blood rushed from the nose of the punched predator, because Blaze punched him again and again in the same spot. The predator didn’t fight back, and no one tried to stop Blaze. Instead, they all watched the scene unfold with shock on their faces. Once Blaze let go of the predator, his friends rushed to him at once, while Blaze walked over to the first guy who had directed the ball to hit my stomach. “This is the shit y’all do here? Mess with preys who don’t know shit about this fucking game?” He demanded, and even though the predator tried acting like he was unfazed, the tremor in his voice betrayed him a

My name is Elora and I reside at the Blue Mountain Packhouse. I have a slim figure, long curly blonde hair which I usually wear up in a bun so it is out of my face. My eyes are a deep blue which I love. I am not a normal girl though. You see I am a shewolf, my rank at the packhouse is an omega. I don’t know my parents because they passed away when I was just a tiny baby, so I don’t have any memories of them. The only thing I have is a necklace locket from my mother. I have never taken it off because it makes me feel close to her spirit.

His hands gripped the iron bars of the cage door. And then with a violent roar He ripped them open. The metal door slammed against the wall with a thunderous crash. For a moment neither of us moved. My mind refused to process what I was seeing. Knox stepped forward slowly. Out of the cage, he was completely free. His shoulders rose and fell with heavy breaths as his glowing eyes locked onto me. Predator. He had smelt a prey. The air between us felt electric. Dangerous. He tilted his head slightly.

Its eyes were two horizontal slits of Neon-Blue—the cold, unfeeling light of a system that had finally found its target. The Predator’s Logic The Hunter-Julian didn't roar. It spoke with a voice that sounded like a thousand voices speaking in unison—the compressed audio of every "Julian-File" ever created. "RED-ZONE DETECTED. QUARANTINE BREACHED." It raised a hockey stick made of Obsidian-Glass. With a flick of its wrist, it sent a "Logic-Puck" screaming across the lawn. The projectile didn't hit Elara; it hit a nearby park bench. The bench didn't break—it Un-rendered. It turned into a wireframe model for a split second before vanishing entirely.

It might be frigging starving! A disturbing idea popped up in my head as I drove past the Manor gates: if this thing had been attached to Brandon Price, it’d gone from feeding on residual energy to living emotions. So maybe it wasn’t a badass demon, but it wasn’t a simple scavenger anymore. I’d heard that wild predators, like lions and tigers, disregard any other food once they tasted human flesh.