Mission: Save The Hunter Novel Novels & Stories

She saw his body, sagged against a tree, nearly the same one that she rescued him from a few months ago. His head was leaning forward, and she could see that his hands and feet were bound. There was a small layer of white flakes on him. He hadn't been here too long so he shouldn't be near freezing, but the temperature could drop at any moment in these mountains. Her snout raised; she sniffed the cold air. His scent was strong, but it mingled with others. She could smell the other hunters nearby. Knowing it was a trap, she forged ahead. She would save him, even if it cost her, her life.

I was still met with silence. “Jericho, trust me… I know how this sounds. I really do. A Hunter and a Vampire, I know… But I'm all in, I'm invested in this now. I need to save him. If I can find out who ordered the hit, I could try and convince them to withdraw it. If I can’t, then the contract will be reassigned and it will be war. I will kill anyone who tries to come for him.” I said.

Yuki turned around to the villagers and left Rose at the table. Her eyes locked on the table as her body was still. “He saved me. Again. From those thugs, from the nighthowls and now from those goblins.” Rose closed her fingers into a fist. “Why do you always save me, even though you don’t remember who I am?” …… The following day, the Hunters were ready to head back home. The chief and the villagers all saw them off at the front gate as well as giving them a few gifts. “Goodbye~ Thank you for your help!” The chief shouted while waving. The Hunters also waved back as they walked further until they could no longer see the people.

Covering up the hole with some moss, she dusted off her dress and hurried home, her thoughts of the Hunters exposing her long gone. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "They're here! The Hunters have arrived!" The cries of the young boys ran through the whole village, many men and women coming out to see the sight. Liam riding in front, followed by nine other men, all on horseback. On the back of Liam's horse was the dead carcass of a mountain lion, and his quiver held an unusual number of arrows. Instead of the standard twelve like the rest of the men in his party, it held 15, two from the archer who had shot the beast earlier, as well as the arrow aimed to warn him.

At the center, the Archivist floats, her body a conduit for the void, her voice a siren song erasing warriors mid-swing. The Hunter loads his gun. "You sure?" I cock the storm-gun. "I'm done running." We charge. --- **The Final Verse** The Archivist sees us coming. "*Fools!* You can't kill a god!" "We're not here for the god," the Hunter snarls. "We're here for the *priest*." He fires. The bullet tears through her mosaic face, glass shards scattering. She screams, the void in her unraveling. I aim at the rift above her-a pulsating wound in the sky. The static in me surges, merging with the storm-gun's charge.

Hunter straightened up, the pain in his foot forgotten as he walked over to the bed and sat on the edge, giving her a thoughtful look. “Whoa, Aleah. Slow down. You’re coming at me like a machine gun,” he joked lightly, trying to defuse the tension. “Don’t joke about this!” she snapped, her fiery glare cutting him off. “Just answer me.” Hunter sighed deeply, his demeanor softening. “I can’t give you every detail about my mission. But I was... I was so close to dying two years ago. My cover was blown, my identity was out there. If I contacted you—or anyone—it would’ve put you all in danger. I had to fake my death... Your grandfather, Don Antonio, and Guiller helped me pull it off.”

“Stop! Don’t hit me. Mrs. Foster, I’m not the mistress… Miss Foster, you’ve been deceived. I’m the real one who saved you–” A baton slammed hard into my back, and a metallic taste of blood flooded my mouth. “Still lying, huh? Hit her again. Don’t stop until she can’t get up.” At Mrs. Foster’s vicious order, the beating intensified again. My vision blurred, and the pool of blood beneath me grew larger. Was I going to die here again today? I clenched my lips and quickly took the chance to send Elijah a distress message through my smartwatch. Just as I was about to lose consciousness, Elijah arrived with the police.

He's staring at the settling dust, then at my splint, then at me, and I can see the report writing itself behind his eyes. Wolves that saved hunters. Silver that bounced. Noah Hunter with a broken arm, giving orders to a pack. "You knew about this thing," he says. "Before tonight." "Yes." "And you didn't tell anyone. They said it was just an unconfirmed sighting so it would be a good learning exercise for us. They sent us out here with our weapons and a pep talk, and Aisha almost died, and you knew." "Yes," I say again, because he's earned an honest answer, and I'm too tired for anything else.

I saw the young boy wake up, his eyes wide with terror as a Hunter grabbed his father by the throat. "Let him go!" I found myself screaming. I didn't think. I just ran toward them. I swung my bandaged hands, hitting the Hunter’s arm. A jolt of white-hot pain shot up my shoulders, but the silver light—that strange, terrifying heat—flashed for a split second. The Hunter let out a muffled grunt and stumbled back, his sleeve smoking. "It's her!" the Hunter shouted. His voice was muffled by the mask. "We found her! Don't kill her yet, the advisor wants her alive!"

Silver strikes Rowan’s body with devastating accuracy. His breath catches sharply, involuntary, unavoidable, and for the first time since this began I see the true cost of survival reflected in the way his muscles tense against damage his body cannot immediately heal. He remains standing. Impossible. Defiant. Alive. The hunter reaches for his comm unit, voice already forming the words that will summon reinforcements capable of finishing what he started. Rowan moves faster. Violence interrupts communication. The hunter collapses. Silence follows. But silence is temporary. I hear the engines seconds later.