Hunter Age Novels & Stories

Uncle gary said in sad mood I wiped my face and stopped crying to understand what my uncle was saying. " Uncle, this is not funny. Werewolves don't exist. So how will they kill my father and even if they exist. What business does my father and werewolves have in common”. “ You are from the generation of Hunter's." I looked at him astonished. A lot was going through my mind “ This is the first time I am hearing of Hunter and now you are telling me I am from the generation of Hunter's. Please can you elaborate?” Still confused about what he is saying because my dad has never discussed this with me before he died.

, he stated. “How old were you then?” “Just fifty. I was quit young, wasn't I?” “Young? You were old enough to be a grandpa!” “Haha, I wish that was how it worked. But in our world, we live way longer and don't age much. Camper's father got his first grey hair at seven hundred”. “Wow. So I'm speaking with a hundred and four year old? Man, you're old!” Dakar laughed. “Lycans live longer than that”, he whispered and got on his feet.

She leaned forward, elbows on the table and eyed him seductively. A chuckle rumbled up from his chest. "Don't get too many ideas. You've pretty much worn me out. I'm not as young as I used to be." She sat up straight, cocking her head to the side. "How old are you?" "I'm thirty-five." "Wow." Her eyes were wide. Hunter had to laugh. "Is that old?" "I don't know," she shrugged vaguely. "I'm twenty-six. Just turned, last month."

The only rules the creatures followed were the rules from their kind. "H-help me." The voice was weak, but she was able to locate the owner. It was a skinny young girl. She was barely reaching adulthood. Or maybe she had passed maturity and was way older than her, but due to insufficient nutrients that her body needed, she looked malnourished. The looks of the Hancian’s would fool everyone because of their immortality if they reached a specific age requirement. After that, they will stop aging and growing. Time will stop for them.

I allow myself to drift, almost into a sleep-like state allowing her instincts to take over. I’m vaguely aware of her first capture until she lays upon the trail and starts ripping the flesh from the small tan hare. I’ve yet to get used to the killing of a smaller animal but it was the desperation of starvation that forced my early shift at just thirteen years old. I’ve tried several times to ask when my birthday is but have yet to receive an answer. The only way I know my age is he tells me before starting a new way of punishing me; as if being a year older is an excuse to increase his level of torture.

They instinctively looked down. Then everyone froze. The pink, suggestive interface of "Goddess Hunter" disappeared. It was replaced by a cold black interface that looked like a tombstone. At the center of the screen, the photo of me that had been treated as prey vanished too. In its place was Gary's face, twisted with shock. Under his photo, blood red words slowly appeared. [New game activated, Scumbag Hunter.] [Target: Gary Zachary York.] A cold, emotionless synthetic voice came from everyone's phone at the same time.

"Please..." The hunter was an orphan. She'd lost her parents young and was taken in by the hunter's association. When I'd investigated her during my search, the exact details surrounding her family's death had remained frustratingly unclear. I hadn't cared much then because it held no relevance to my mission, but now I wondered how her parents had died. I imagined her tiny and frail, sobbing as her parents were lowered into the ground. She didn't deserve my sympathy, but fuck, it was a painful sight to imagine. She must have been in so much pain.

I exclaim, outraged on my new teacher’s behalf, “stop being rude!” “It’s alright little mother.” Helene tells me, patting my cheek. “Age is only a matter of vanity for the young. I’m a hundred and seventy years old young man. I’ve lived more than five of your lifetimes, and you cannot intimidate me by baring your fangs. You can either trust me or kill me, but do not expect me to bow and scrape like the rest of your subjects.” I cannot hide my surprise. Shifters have long lives as a rule, but I’ve never heard of anyone living past a hundred and fifty before.

*** Abraham Van Helsing, the Dutch vampire hunter, had once had an apprentice whom he admired and held in high regard, long before he even considered the holy order as a potential calling. Helsing betrayed his apprentice and thought he had disposed of him. However, the tales surrounding this event were shrouded in insufficient recounting and relied solely on rumors. Higgins, renowned for his extraordinary ability to communicate with the dead, was known as the Necromancer Hunter. His expertise lay in influencing the living through the use of the deceased as conduits. His discarded body had washed up on the shores of a massive island housing several packs of werewolves, one of which belonged t

The older woman retorted, a snicker escaped my lips, and I raised my eyes to see her looking at me with admiration, it was as if she was seeing a pregnant woman for the first time. “Mom, No. I have told you to stop using that as a joke, you can’t go into a prison and we won’t be caught, even if we are, we can’t be locked in a prison,” Hunter scolded, I squinted my eyes to understand what he was saying, before I was able to comprehend that that is a regular joke. “You take things extremely seriously, geez, someone would think you’re sixty-six instead of twenty-six, don’t be surprised when you start having grey hairs.” She sighed, calming down but still grinning.