Female Mercenary Novels & Stories

(Catherine Kent) Catherine as well as all the ladies in the room left, to make an arrangement to what I just told them to do and what is left in the room were, me, Ken, Terry, and Marcuez Vega. “...Mies…they jumped on you brother….are we just going to leave it this way?…”. (Marcuez Vega) Now that the ladies is gone, Ken, Terry and Marcuez finally showed their true face. All three of them were very serious and quite upsets. “...Of course not….I got a name…it’s Falcon Mercenary Group…previously active in the middle east war…Specialize bunch, but typically messy…simply said just another slave to money.. ”. (Terry)

As he approached Black Water Town, he was stunned by the scene before him. There was a huge battle stage built in the valley through Black Water Town and thousands of cultivators were gathered there discussing something. The cultivators wore clothes embroidered with logos. They were members of various mercenary teams from all the continents. ‘There are so many mercenary team members. What are they doing here?’ he muttered to himself. Then, his gaze suddenly turned to one side and he saw a slender woman in a red leather suit, standing in the corner of the battle stage. She was very sexy and charming.

-Aahhh…I miss my phone. The door swung open, and a gorgeous dark-skinned woman entered the room. She was holding some papers on her right hand that she switched to her left in order to shut the door more efficiently. She had long dreadlocked hair held back by a brown ribbon and a black eye patch on her right eye while her left eye was the colour amber. She was dressed in the same attire as the female mercenaries had on, plain trousers, boots and a white long-sleeved shirt with an external black corset that framed her figure.

“You may pretend you’re a goddess, but you are nothing—insignificant. Nothing will save you or the one you love. You cannot defeat Mahishasura, King of Demons. Ask Kaplan—he’s dying under the demon’s touch.” Jaiyana’s golden eyes flared, spilling light like a drawn blade, and for a moment her face softened, betraying the fear she carried for Kaplan. Then her resolve hardened, folding that fear into steel. “You’re wrong,” she snapped, her voice ringing with authority and quiet menace. “I am not what you call a goddess—I am something worse for you. And Kaplan does not die while I can still reach him.” Her words hung in the air like a promise, chilling the space around Mahisar more than any sho

That woman is Janus! The submachine gun that had been in the mercenary leader's hand a second ago hit the ground with a loud thud. He stared at me as if I were a monster, his legs going numb as he fell to his knees before me. "J-Janus…" his voice shook violently. "We didn't know it was you… Please have mercy on us…" Josie, who'd been cackling maniacally earlier, now choked on her laugh. I looked down at the mercenary trembling on his knees and smiled. "Your cipher is a joke."

TW-RAPE (not a scene just a mention) “The Black Hunter strikes us once yet again leaving a gruesome mess in the house of the murdered. Despite being a messy murderer, not a trace of DNA can be found. Careful. Whoever he is, what does he want and why has he targeted these specific targets?” He. They always assume I'm a man but whose to tell them that it's a woman killing multiple men and women. Pure sexism in the 21st century. As the saying goes ‘Some women fear the fire while some women simply become it’. I am the fire that burns enraging the wrath and vengeance that runs in my veins but there is a twist.

“Naive and foolish as usual. Nothing's changed. Perhaps that's why you got in quicker than I expected.” “I don't know who the hell you are. Leave before the…” She cut the words out of my mouth. “The guards? You would call the dogs to protect you?” Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t be silly.” My heart pounded wildly. My instincts were screaming at me that this woman was bad news. The woman raised her right hand. Her fingers moved in a sharp, circular motion, and a spark of dark purple light erupted from her palm. I gasped. “What are you…?”

She said softly. I started to tell her I wasn't a soothsayer so I obviously didn't know but she continued without my answer. "My Bren, he was a mercenary." She said, her voice suddenly filled with pain. That peaked my interest. Brontés? A mercenary? The man was so calm and collected. He looked regal and graceful in every way. I found that difficult to believe but Nyx's voice was shaky. That was something that hadn't occurred in the six days I'd spent with them. Nyx might be the kindest and acted like the mother of all but one needed a will of steel to handle men like these. "He was--"

"If she truly is a tribrid, that would explain so much." Vincent says. "Like what?" "Like why several mercenaries were hired to kill her." "Wait.. what? Mercenaries? How do you know for sure?" "All mercenaries are either rogue-born or ex-pack warriors. They are rogues for hire that have no moral ground. They will accept any contract. The only thing they ever care about is money. We were able to identify them through their strong wild scent. It's a smell most rogues have, however, Mercenaries are typically more subtle, as it allows them to enter a pack without being detected."

The mercenary had a thick, dark head of hair that was cut to her chin. Her brown face looked like it was made of granite, and her black eyes squinted a little when she saw me. Such fascinating eyes—not only one hue of black, but many, with traces of brown that shone through the darkness. While she judged me as a possible threat or employer, I maintained my shoulders back and fought against the useless part of my mind that was preoccupied with color, light, and form. I couldn't help but gulp at her gleaming, wicked weapons. And stop a respectable two feet away.