Murder Drones N Novels & Stories

Author's note: This is the English version of my novel entitled 'How To Be A Murderer,' I hope you guys enjoy and thank you very much for supporting its Filipino version. This is only fiction, and it can't happen in real life. I hope you guys enjoy reading this novel written by me. Love you all. Rules to be a murderer: Accuse someone of the crime you did. Be a liar. Be smart. Choose an appropriate weapon. Create a strong alibi.

I look into the bedroom. The penthouse is dark, lit only by the city glow through the massive windows. Drakon is picking up his jeans. And then, I hear it. A hum. Like a giant insect. It’s outside the glass. I look at the window. Hovering twenty feet away, level with the fifty-first floor, is a drone. It’s large. Military grade. Four rotors. And slung underneath it is a machine gun. The red light on the camera blinks. It locks onto me.

I craved the suffocating weight of his obsession because it was the only thing that made me feel solid in a world of ghosts. "He’s watching us, isn't he?" I asked the shadows. The humming in the rafters grew louder, more mechanical. A small, black drone, no larger than a bird, descended from the darkness. It was made of the same matte obsidian as Dante’s arm, its single lens glowing with a lethal, indigo light. Leo stepped back, pulling a white pulse-pistol from his belt. "Stay back, Ivy! It’s a Moretti scout!" The drone didn't attack. It hovered inches from my face, its cooling fans whirring like a dying breath. A speaker on the bottom crackled to life.

“They’re already here!” They ran. Reyes was already pulling a jammer from his pack. “If we can cross the ridge, I can broadcast a scramble pulse—” Too late. One of the units slammed into the earth ahead, throwing up soil and metal. A blade unfolded from its side—spindly, gleaming, insectile. It scanned them. > TARGET CONFIRMED: R-113 ASSOCIATES CONTAINMENT: LETHAL The drone lunged. Lucian tackled it mid-air, ripping it off-course—but another landed just behind them.

12 Sectors. 12 Sectors that each of us had to clear along with each of their security checks and traps. Grant now releasing a couple of drones given to us by Tony once we had cleared the base of the mountain. Our drones designed specifically with reflectors to help them blend in with their surrounding area. Kind of like a camouflage. The drones giving us a boost to our systems while giving Tony and his team the access they needed to hack into each security system. Because without our bots, our gear would have been fried upon setting foot into the first set of traps. Each of us passing through 3 EMP grids, 2 land mines and 4 turrets. Each turret designed to hold poison arrows and toxic gas.

When the Citadel manor felt that everything was going their way, the Headmaster pulled out one of the Black Order’s newest inventions. With a smirking, cold dominant voice, he spoke on the intercom, “We don’t have any vervain for the vampires, but that doesn’t matter with the use of our new weapon, all of them will kneel.” He declared and soon activated the death drones. The drones flew in every direction. They swarm like flies, hundreds of them looking for a pack of wolves to unleash their deadly silver gas on them.

I whispered, "you’re going to have to find her in the dark." I initiated a recursive wipe. The blue pillar of silicon began to scream—a literal, high-pitched electronic wail as I began to shred the "Batch" lists. "Stop her!" the female voice commanded. The vault didn't have guards. it had defenders. Two panels in the ceiling slid back, and sleek, quadrupedal drones—resembling skeletal hounds made of carbon fiber—dropped to the floor. Their optical sensors glowed a predatory crimson. I pulled the matte-black pistol Julian had given me. My heart was a drum, but my hand was steady. I fired, the suppressed rounds thudding into the lead drone’s chassis, but it didn't slow down. It was built to ab

If we feed the code there, we can overwrite the cleansing protocol!” “The problem is only,” Nova called from above, “that they have noticed us!” dozens of small, Black dots. There were no wooden gliders. It was autonomous catching Old World drones – slim, angular and familiar, cold purple light her lenses. Kael put his hands on my shoulders. “Get us in, Jada. Do the rest we.” I looked at the approaching thunder of drones, spanned the muscles and ripped the cross. We were the heirs of Ouroboros, and this heaven

From the far end of the next corridor, three small shapes darted into view. Drones. It's not the sleek, commercial kind. These were jury‑rigged—maintenance bots retrofitted with sensor arrays and taser rigs, the ugly child of a Roomba, and a riot control catalog. “Non‑lethal, my ass,” Dante repeated. They came at knee‑height, fast. Jax dropped, fired. The first drone sparked, skidding sideways. The second juked. Too smart. Niko swore, fingers flying on his pad.

The comm crackled suddenly—Weller’s strained voice: “—anybody copy? We’re pinned—drones—six down—need—” The feed cut. Liora flinched. Varian’s eyes went fury-dark. “We’re close,” he said. They saw the smoke first—thin, curling, illuminated by a stuttering streetlamp. Then the convoy. Three armored trucks, shredded. Doors blown off. One on its side. Figures crouched behind engine blocks, firing upward at the sky. And the sky answered. Six drones swooped in coordinated arcs—sleek municipal security models, but altered. Their targeting lasers moved with eerie, intelligent fluidity.