Hunter Survivors Novels & Stories

I was supposed to forget him. But you can’t erase something that was written in the soul. We reached the northern camp before dawn. It wasn’t much just a cluster of tents near a ruined chapel, smoke rising from fires barely alive. The scent hit me first: wolf, human, and fear. The Cross assassins readied their rifles. I raised my hand to stop them. “Wait here,” I said. They hesitated. “Now.” I moved alone through the snow, silent, until I reached the first tent. Inside, a child slept beside a woman who looked like barely alive ribs showing, eyes sunken, hands trembling even in sleep. They weren’t soldiers. They were survivors. Refugees from Valentina’s madness.

They'd been murderers who'd reshaped reality to cover their crime. "This is why the hunters came," Luna said to Vincent, suddenly understanding. "The hunters aren't servants of some greater power. They're survivors. They're the remnants of that destroyed world, existing partially outside of normal dimensions because it's the only way they can survive in the reality that was built to eliminate them. They're still hunting because they're still terrified."

Eventually reality shut down any hope I had. I've estimated that less than a million humans survived. I hope I'm wrong and there are more, but my co-workers in analytics agree with me. Having my father for as long as I did was a miracle. Brian, a guy I worked with, lost everyone he loved. He told me the only way to survive was to stop thinking about them. He died at the claws of the hellhound who broke into the compound. I still hear his screams at night when I try to fall asleep. No, I don't want to see one of the monsters that killed so many people I loved. Just knowing it's here scares me senseless, and this time the shivers running across my skin have nothing to do with King.

"I was afraid. He was my brother. My family. And I believed him at first. Believed enhancement was possible. Necessary. By the time I realized it was just trauma disguised as training, I was complicit. Too guilty to expose him without exposing myself." "So you did nothing." "I did nothing. And seven hundred and forty-three children suffered because of my cowardice. I can't fix that. But I can give you the tools to help them now." She died three weeks later. Quietly. No funeral. No ceremony. Just gone. I used her records to locate survivors. Found two hundred and twelve still alive. Scattered across forty countries. We reached out to each one. Offered support. Resources. Connection to the fou

And bring here the people that she helped after the attack of a werewolf and don't have a place to go. There are also two of the people that she help that were outcasts to their house because their family thinks that they are just saying nonsense. Without knowing the fact that the member of their family experience an unordinary encounter that they wouldn't forget for the rest of their lives. The trauma that they suffered is still hunting them whenever they closed their eyes.

His nephew won't stop so he just agreed. "I'll look around. There might be some other survivors somewhere," Connor said. I followed him when he went out. We searched everywhere and just as Connor has said, we have rescued more survivors. All are wounded and at critical stages. We carried them all into the middle of the village and Hunter healed all of them using his wand. We rescued about fifty people. Men and women. Young and old. "Thank you so much," an old man said. "It's our duty," Hunter told him and patted his shoulder.

April POV Kyle and I have been on the road for about six weeks now. Most of the survivors that we have met with were all young children at the time of the attack. Some of them remembered Kyle but only a little because they were in younger grades than him. They had either been placed with family members in other packs or adopted. We did meet an older woman who by the sounds of it is the reason that most of these children survived. She had been assigned to watch them in one of the shelters when the attack started.

I could still feel the terror that all the remaining survivors had felt from the tragedy that overtook them. As I helped with distributing the food and the supplies that they needed, it did nothing to their faces, which had turned dim, and to their eyes, which had already lost the light in them. These were the remnants of the Emberwood Pack, the survivors of a tragedy that no one should ever have to endure. As I moved among them, I felt the weight of their suffering pressing against my own soul. The anguish etched into their features, the hollowness in their eyes — it was a sight that would forever be seared into my memory.

A moment later, there was gunfire, the rapid staccato of an automatic followed by one resounding BANG that had Aislen gripping at both Cameron and Rhett, her eyes wide and mouth open on her alarm. The soldiers dragged a body out and set fire to it with a flamethrower. “Zombie,” Rhett decided. “They got it.” “They’re all inside again,” Aislen said anxiously. “This could take some time,” Rhett said to Cameron. “We should go help search the houses. I don’t want to join those guys,” he nodded his head to where the soldiers had uncovered rows of bodies covered in sheets, laid neatly out on the concrete. “No…” Cameron agreed, swallowing hard. There were smaller shapes under the sheets. They weren’

I carefully pick my way over the rocks. "You did. You looked so exhausted; I figured that I would let you." I try not to be annoyed at him. I know he was thinking about my best interest, but my mind is on the school. Are there even any survivors? Or did the Silver Hunters slaughter everyone there? My stomach roils, and my legs shake as we clamber up the riverbank. I almost want to go back to the nightmare I was having, because at least nightmares end. This new reality never will.