Murder Drones N Pfp Novels & Stories

Just as she turned it on a voice of a lady was heard who was anchoring the news. “The police confirmed the three murders to be a serial murder but they suspect that the murder was done by someone who held a deep grudge against the three deceased. It is also suspected that the murderer is a doctor because of his unique way of killing the victims. So, the police gave the murderer the code name Dr. Killer. Who is this Dr. Killer and why is he killing these innocent people? And where our world is standing now? The very lesson that should be saving lives is now taking them instead. The general people are panicking over-” she turned off the tv because of the boring news. The only thing interesting

Mike explained, pulling up a video on his tablet. The view count was climbing past two million. It was a clip by 'Master Up,' the most influential voice in the world of aerial tech and wolf-scouting drones. The headline was a dagger: THE GREAT BETRAYAL: HOW YAYA INDUS IS HOODWINKING THE PACK!

He had enough with the treatment methods and moved on to the next tape. It’s September 30th, and I’m at the police station with Kyle Draken. Kyle has just been arrested for a string of serial murders going on around town. Not that it was Kyle who confessed to me but an alternate that lives inside of him. An alternate that goes by the moniker doll.

“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.

Gold-rimmed eyes lethal and cracked. “They want to watch us?” I hissed at the sky. “Let them watch us disappear into their nightmares.” I thrust my good hand forward, palm open toward the nearest drone. The Shared Heat from the chain flooded my marrow—a violent jolt of Kael’s sacrifice and Leo’s fury. I didn't reach for a blade. I reached for the static. CRACK. A localized electromagnetic pulse rippled out from my hand. Fed by the boy’s resonance, the drones didn't just fall; they shrieked as their sensors fried.

But as I turned to the window, the glass exploded. A drone, small and sleek with the Wolfe logo on its wing, hovered in the center of the room. Its red optical lens scanned us, a high-pitched beep echoing in the small space. "Target acquired," the drone chirped in Melanie’s voice. "Initiating social recovery protocol." Outside, the crowd of people began to move toward our door, their faces blank, their candles flickering in the wind. They weren't a mob; they were a cult of the brand I had built.

I wave my hand on his face, and that's when his eyes twitched and he slowly stare down at me, “My lady?” “Finally” I sighed, “Uhm, what's your name?” “Drake” “Ohhh Drake, uhm why is everyone carrying guns, I mean it is not like anything is happening so why is everyone carrying guns?” I asked and waited for his answer but instead I was met with silence, I could tell he was staring at something behind me but I could not tell what it is, “Moma?” I suddenly heard his voice, and slowly turn, and standing right behind me is Vincentte Vlaydimir

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.

They were a piercing, surgical violet. Rage stood in the nursery doorway, his submachine gun raised. "Stay behind the pods, Sabi. Do not move until that line is open." The first drone rounded the corner, its high-speed oscillating blade extended—a tool meant for buffing marble, now a weapon meant for shredding flesh. Rage fired a short, controlled burst. The drone exploded in a shower of sparks and hydraulic fluid, but three more took its place. "One minute!" Sabizina screamed. "Rage, he’s using a neural-link relay! He’s not just commanding them; he’s feeling the fight through their sensors!"

"We go through it." "Are you insane?" Chalida screamed, backing away as the drone drifted closer, its red eye fixed on their movements. "It’s an optimizer!" Pim roared, charging toward the drone. "It’s not designed to handle irrational, self-destructive variables! We have to disrupt its predictive modeling!" The drone fired a stun-bolt, hitting the floor inches from Pim’s feet. The floor cracked, sending shrapnel flying. Pim didn't flinch. She swung the silver candelabra with all her strength, smashing it into the drone’s sensor array.