Murder Drones J Art Novels & Stories

I say to the cab driver as we pull away. “It’s not a problem, the young lady on the phone explained the situation. If it was my wife and child I'd hope someone would do the same.” The cab driver replies with a friendly smile. I smile in return and Lorie and I sit silently for the rest of the ride back to Draven Manor. Once we are safely inside I phase us both back to the underworld and take Lorie to her room before linking with Victor. As Lorie is taking a bath I step outside her door and explain what had happened today to Victor.

The blacksite’s reinforced ceiling began to peel open, slow but unstoppable, each segment sliding back to reveal a shaft of pale morning light. And in that light… shapes. Sleek. Inhuman. Dropping soundlessly into the chamber one by one. Julian’s voice cracked over comms, ragged. “They’re drones no” a sharp inhale “they’re him.” One landed with predator-like grace, knees bending smoothly, its surface rippling in the same oily black as Noa’s eyes. Then another. And another. The sound of their landing was almost too soft, too controlled. They stood in a perfect line, unmoving.

"Drake told me what happened. We came as soon as we heard. I'm so sorry for your loss. What can we do?" "Well, needless to say, we closed down the main lobby and casino for the day and the crime scene has remained untouched," Kellen said. "We were hoping you might share some insight as to the crime. We also wish to discuss other crimes in the area." Xander nodded. "Yes, of course." Then he turned to me. "This is Kalyssa Carran, our new Mate." My head snapped up, but I said nothing. "She's a veterinarian and her clinic just burned down," Xander replied. "And it was clearly arson. I suspect the crimes may be related."

'Silence' Sarah had vanished into the rafters, her presence only marked by the occasional flash of a suppressed muzzle or the sudden, silent collapse of a drone. 'Grizzly' Greg was providing heavy cover, his customized munitions turning the warehouse’s rusted machinery into a series of improvised barriers. "Drones are down to forty percent!" Nikolai’s voice crackled over the analog comms. "But these things are self-repairing! It’s like fighting a hive mind!" In the center of the chaos, Kitana Lee stood atop the pile of rusted crates, her porcelain mask reflecting the flickering industrial lights. She watched the battle with a detached, almost bored expression.

“Shit.” From the tunnels above and below, the swarm descended. Drones—sleek, silver, endless—poured into the underbelly like locusts loosed from hell. Their glassy eyes burned red with Echo’s final command, each rotor shrieking like a wasp’s wings. Needled limbs glistened with venomous current, dripping sparks that hissed as they touched the steel.

“He isn’t done. Kane never finishes quietly.” A sudden pulse of red light painted the street ahead. Drones, small and angular, descended silently from above, their surveillance lenses glowing like malevolent eyes. Kane had anticipated their escape. Ava ducked instinctively as a pulse shot past her shoulder, a warning shot from the first drone. “He’s everywhere!” she shouted, adrenaline flooding her veins. “Not everywhere,” Ethan said through gritted teeth. “But enough to make this a fight for survival.” They dove into the alleyways, twisting and turning in a maze of metal dumpsters and stacked crates. The drones followed, emitting a mechanical whine that seemed almost like laughter. Kane’s v

I tried to stand, but my legs were lead. "Now, now, Lyra," Julian’s voice purred. "Let’s talk about the 'Ex-Wife' clause. You found the photo, didn't you? My first success. My son. You wondered why you’d never met him? It’s because he’s currently piloting the very drones that are hovering over your head." I looked up, my vision clearing as the Sovereign fire in my blood fought back against the blue corruption. High above, a fleet of drones moved in perfect synchronization. They weren't being flown by computers; the movement was too organic, too much like a pack hunting.

He scrambled to the central console, his fingers flying. I held the drones at bay, but I could feel the Ouroboros fighting back, trying to reclaim its children. The strain was immense. A trickle of blood ran from my nose. >THREE MINUTES. “Almost… got it…” Jeff muttered. One of the drones twitched, breaking free from my hold. It swiveled, its weapon aimed not at Jeff, but at me. Time seemed to slow. I saw Jeff look up from the console, see the drone, see the threat to me—to us. His face contorted in panic.

Metal met metal with a hollow *clang*. The drone’s head snapped sideways with a spray of sparks. It stumbled, recalibrating. Jax didn’t give it time. He jammed the end of the pipe into the gap between its plating and its neck joint, grunting as he levered it down. Gears ground. Something inside smoked. The drone twitched and went still. “Well,” Jax panted. “Guess all those hours in junkyards finally paid off.” “Less commentary, more not dying,” I said, backing up as another pair swarmed up the incline.

The hum of the drone was a low-frequency vibration that seemed to crawl beneath my scalp. It was a predator’s purr, sophisticated, silent, and steady. In the cramped, grey light of the Bushwick alleyway, the sound felt like a countdown. ​"Julian," I whispered, my hand tightening on the lead-lined case containing the Pulse-8. "Don't look up. Just move. Slowly."