Murder Drones Funny Novels & Stories

Lorren stumbled backward, his lantern crashing into the water and hissing out. Darkness swallowed them. The hum rose into a pitch that made teeth ache. Alexander yanked the pin and hurled the charge. For half a second, nothing happened. Then the tunnel filled with white light — blinding, burning, brilliant. The sound of metal collapsing echoed like thunder. Sparks rained. Water hissed and boiled. When the flash faded, everything was still again. The first drone was a heap of melted steel. The second lay motionless in the water, its head split open. The third — the smallest — was still twitching, dragging itself toward the fallen core. Jun stepped forward and kicked it hard enough to send it

"I was blinded! By pride, by jealousy!" "Jealousy?" I laughed, a sound with no warmth. "What kind of jealousy lets you watch your own child die?" The room was silent, everyone listening to the bloody truth. "Is the baby… really dead?" Alistair asked, his voice shaking. I didn't answer with words. I met his gaze, and unleashed hell. A torrent of silver light shot from my eyes, straight into his soul. "Aaargh!" He screamed, clawing at his temples.

Sirens wailed, distant, then cut short—dead as the city they once protected. Unmanned drones swept low, searchlights hunting for survivors. One found a group huddled under a collapsed porch. The drone’s spotlight lingered. A sudden, sharp flash—then nothing but a blackened circle where people had been. Gunfire spat from rooftops. Brave or desperate, it didn’t matter. The drones answered with steel. Men fell, limbs jerking. Blood sprayed across the pavement. It steamed in the heat. Animals ran wild—dogs howling, horses galloping with burning manes, birds shrieking as they dropped out of the sky. Everything running. Everything is running from the same, unstoppable fate.

Smoke poured from the engine vents. But then, the Digger's hatch blew open. Not soldiers. Drones. Swarms of spider-like robots poured out of the machine, scuttling over the hull, firing micro-lasers. They were fast, lethal, and designed for tunnel warfare. "Back!" Jack shouted, pulling Catherine behind a pillar as a laser burned a hole in the brick inches from her face. The mutants shrieked as the spiders attacked them. Grog swatted one away with his machete, but another latched onto his leg, its drill whirring.

They moved with robotic precision, magnetized boots clinging to the steep floor. Architect Drones. Human-machine hybrids. "Eliminate witnesses," the first Drone synthesized a voice. It raised a suppressed submachine gun. "Stay behind me!" Jackson released the window and slid down the floor, steering his body like a torpedo. He crashed into the Drone's legs before it could fire. The Drone fell. Jackson rolled on top of it. He took the ceramic knife he had taped to his chest and stabbed it viciously into the Drone’s neck. SPARK! It didn't bleed blood. It bled oil and white sparks. The ceramic blade severed the primary wiring. The Drone twitched and powered down.

He likes to refer to them a bottom feeders, vultures or the classic 'fucking freaks' depending on his mood. With all the media coverage that the case had garnered nation wide, he had hordes of people beating the doors down to see it. Everyone had wanted to see the infamous 'murder motel' where the crazy man and his deranged son had kidnapped all those women and then brutally murdered them. Everyone's favorite place to check out was the old well that had held all the bodies of the victims.

I ask, still not looking. “Not well,” he says, voice strained. “But, yeah. I do. They were good kids.” Tears prick at my eyes. What sort of monsters would do such a thing? Come in here and murder innocent people? “Brynn,” I gasp. Brynn’s dorm is on this floor. Like almost everyone else, she must have been sleeping when the Silver Hunters attacked. Did she manage to get away? Is she even still alive? “I need to find Brynn,” I gasp.

“Faster than Usain Bolt in relay finals, boss.” Despite the assurance in his voice, irritation flickers through me. “Trash them, game boy.” “Trust the mode, boss,” Quinn laughs stupidly. The idiot sounds excited like this is some damn multiplayer combat mission instead of real people dying if need be. Still, the boy is a genius with drones, surveillance and every flying machine known to mankind, so I follow his instructions while he deploys his people ahead of me. I park along the roadside, grab my gun, check the magazine twice, then shove an earbud into my ear as I start toward the funeral home.

The others will wait for whatever comes up. Wave One The room shook as the wall panels slid open. The emergence of drones was unprecedented; these were humanoid, sleek robots with luminous eyes and razor-sharp limbs. With a mumble, "Here we go again," Rook lifted his weapon. "Engage!" The first shot came from Damien's yell. The drones' accurate and well-coordinated strikes came as they proceeded at a scary pace. Dodging a blow, Vanessa shouted, "They're learning faster." "These things are smarter than the last ones!"

"Do it. End the transition." "Sir, I..." "Do it before I lose the last of my mind!" "He’s begging you, Miller!" Richard held the shield, his arms trembling. "Do you have the spine to end a commander or the sense to save a soldier?" "This isn't saving a soldier! This is watching a nightmare manifest!" "The nightmare is the only thing standing between us and the drones!" Richard’s shield pulsed, absorbing a heavy kinetic slug from the drone line. The impact sent a shockwave through the ground, knocking them all off balance. The mercury started to drip, losing cohesion.