Hunter Prey Novels & Stories

Malcom steals women from coast to coast for sexual needs and gratification and then kills them when they are no longer of use to him. The air is filled with the scent of a deer, and Kiera sniffs it carefully, and we can see one nearby. We follow our nose, placing our trust in the scent of the dear, and track lightly in order not to lose our catch. We practically crawl on our bellies when we see the deer in the distance, since we want to hide ourselves amongst all the leaves, as we see it in the distance. It is important that we hide behind a tree until we can lunge at our prey, pulling it by its neck, and kill it as quickly as possible so that the deer does not suffer too much pain during th

I said as much to my mate. “No,” he explained. “Hunters are human, but they have certain supernatural abilities. They are born with the instinct to kill everything non-human. They don’t live in the grey. They refuse to accept that there are good and evil supernaturals - they simply kill everything that isn’t pure human.”

The beta said, neatly placing the daggers and blades on the table. "Hunters….." Evelyn muttered, the word rolling out of her tongue leaving a bitter taste. "Who's hunters?" Rain asked before flopping down on one of the chairs. "Hunters are humans or sometimes other supernatural beings like us, " Scarlett started, "Humans were the first ones known as hunters. They used to hunt us and other supernatural beings like us because they were afraid of our power but that changed long ago. Now, hunters include humans, vampires, and even werewolves. They're a group of people who kill and attack people when they are offered money for the job." Scarlett heaved a sigh. "Hunter attacks are surprising which

I watched as the silver burned his palm, but he didn’t make a sound, he just threw the knife from my hand across the room. The look in his eyes turned from anger to crazed. I knew he was bound to slip up in this frenzied state. Luckily for me, I was a Hunter. No, I wasn’t just a Hunter, I was the best Hunter in The Academy. I knew I needed clarity, I needed to remain calm, and the only way I could do that was to get a read on his thoughts. He grabbed my throat and I instinctively tried to pry his hands away, but in reality I was reading him like a fucking book. He planned to kidnap me, and throw me into a hallucination, one where I would never know the difference between real and fake. He wa

His eyes slowly checked me out, causing sensations to bombard me. It felt like he was sizing me up and deciding whether I was worth the hunt. I should have looked away. I should have forfeited. But I couldn't. At least not when my body was screaming with need, for his attention. Instead, I turned and downed the rest of the drink in my hand before I stood. My feet carried me across the room before my brain could convince me otherwise. His gaze didn't leave me as I approached him, following every step I took.

I dragged myself off the floor and into the bathroom to wash all the blood off me and bandage my wounds. It was a painfully slow process. I had never gotten hurt when hunting before. Never. That was partly because I didn’t hunt and partly because in all my practice, I was a silent killer. I never engaged in fights. I ambushed and killed. There were times when I felt guilty about that style, never giving the animals a fighting chance, but I thought it was better in the long run. They would still loose, werewolves were at the top of the food chain with the exception of Lycans, although they had died out so long ago that they were now nothing more than a myth. By attacking them and ending it qu

ROMAN'S P.O.V There are two kinds of hunters in this world— The impulsive carnivores, fueled by their hunger, lunge at the first scent of blood, and they're bound to miss. And then there are the true predators. The ones who lurk in the shadows, camouflage with nature, wait in silence as they study their prey, learning their every move, every twitch, their weakness, the rhythm of their breath. They don't rush; they strategize. We own our prey, and the moment we strike, it's once and it's destruction

In the continent of Elysium, magic has dried up and monsters have descended. The only way to survive is to participate in a game called "Hide and Seek." Only the winning races receive rewards and a chance to live. The Werewolf Clan drew me—a twenty-two-year-old half-blood werewolf. I was painfully thin, having been locked in a dungeon for the past fifteen years. The live chat scrolling before my eyes was filled with despair: [What the hell? This is our clan’s representative?] [A girl a strong breeze could knock over? Is she even an adult?] [I bet she bursts into tears the second she sees a monster.] [It’s over. We’re so dead. I knew we’d lose this time. Are the werewolves really going to be

I answered and adjusted my posture. "Hunters are advised to attack at noon when the sun is high up in the sky, so the light can be used as an advantage. Hunters should only engage vampires at night when it cannot be avoided. Blessed oil is most preferred to blessed water because it doesn't evaporate quickly, it burns into their skin, and a little can go a long way. As for the bullet, it has to be prepared by the hunter to be sure of its purity and the blessing inscriptions," I explained.

AVA Without another word, Hunter moves swiftly away from the lockers, passing by his two friends whose names I'm guessing are Preston and Gomorey. They had been gawking at Hunter with a mischievous grin playing on their lips, and Hunter didn't waste a chance to shoot them both with his penetrating glare. I noticed their pupils retrench as they stared at him, meaning they were conversing with each other through mindlink. It was brief, lasting a couple of seconds before Hunter turns left and straight down the now-empty halls.