Murder Drones Oc Maker Novels & Stories

"I followed you from the mansion, I knew you were going to do something about the funeral shooting and I knew you were walking Into trouble. I hid in the cafe beside the bar and followed you with DARK." "What the hell is DARK? I asked. "It's one of the drones I built. That was why I could get to you in time when you got shot. And that was how I got a clear photo of the shooter." "You did what?" I exclaimed. "Yeah, I got his photo and ran him through facial recognition. He's a guy named James Nwosu, private military contractor, working for N.O.V.A." "Why the hell are you just telling me all these now, Micheal?" I asked angrily.

I didn’t feel the need to kill them unless it was absolutely necessary. " You know there is a permanent solution to this right ?! ” War zone said. " By permanent, I’m guessing you mean kill ?” I said. " Do you really think they would hesitate and do it to us ?" she asked me " We’re better than that. Besides, we are only going to do that if we absolutely need to," Just as we were having that conversation the floors opened and outside of it five mechanized drones ready to attack us. During the surprise, I started to sense the hybrids and the pain they were in.

I didn't like the feeling it gave me. Then—a faint, mechanical whirring sound. Dorian stiffened. My eyes darted to the grimy window, barely catching the glint of something hovering outside. A drone. My breath hitched as I stared at it. It was small, sleek, and eerily silent, its camera lens reflecting the dim light inside the room. I couldn't believe this people would go to the length they had. Thankfully, Dorian moved fast. He grabbed a knife from his boot and hurled it with lethal precision. The blade sliced through the air and struck the drone’s body, sending it spinning before it crashed to the ground with a sharp crack.

he disclosed in detail. “Can the drones be intercepted ?” Jax quizzed. “No. The drones are programmed to self destroy themselves and when these bots are intercepted then they roll a series of balls before they decimate their existence,” he explained. “What are those balls ?” Jax interrogated. “They are baby bombs but they contain shards of glass and silver so the interceptor can be killed,” he answered. “How do you contact a ghost communicator ?” Jax grilled. “That’s not how it works, Sir. In this trade, there is minimal communication between the stakeholders. The request is made through mindlinks. This way no human can barge into the cartel,” he earnestly answered.

“And you want to fight them with what? Your stubbornness?!” “They hurt innocent people,” James snapped. “I won’t stand here and do nothing.” Mike’s eyes scanned the scene. He slipped a device from his bag—small, metal, shaped like a cube with blinking lights. Clara frowned. “What is that?” “A stabilizer drone,” he muttered. “If I can get it running, I can scan their energy signatures.” “Wait,” Bridget said. “You built that yourself?!” Mike sighed. “Later, Bridget.”

The roar of the Southern Council’s "Reaper" drones drowned out the wind. High-intensity floodlights cut through the shattered windows of the manor, turning the dusty foyer into a strobe-lit nightmare. "They’re using thermal dampeners," Victor shouted over the noise, pulling a compact, high-frequency pulse-emitter from his belt. "They aren't here to negotiate, Draven. They’re here to harvest."

The predawn light was a sickly grey as Sarah Vance pulled her black SUV to the curb three houses down from Dr. Miller’s residence. Her phone buzzed in the center console a secure line. She swiped it open, the voice on the other end a low, digital hum. "Drones are up, Sarah," Tyler’s voice crackled through the speakers. He wasn't there in person; he was miles away in the command center, watching the heat signatures of the neighborhood. "I’ve got eyes on the entire block. The 'Grey Team' I hired is in position. They’re professional, clean, and they don't leave fingerprints."

A grin spread across her face. "Our newest treasure." Darren immediately crouched beside the container for a closer look. Everything about the drones appeared far beyond anything he had ever seen before the apocalypse. The craftsmanship alone was astonishing. Even before the world collapsed, technology like this would have been considered cutting-edge. "They look incredible," Darren admitted. "And they're not just for show," Ivy replied proudly. "These little guys can scout, track targets, launch attacks, and provide surveillance." Darren's eyes widened further. Ivy nodded.

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.

His fingers twitched slightly at his sides, the only betrayal of the storm building within him. “Subject: Deceased. Adrium: Not detected.” The lead drone emitted a short, shrill beep, and the others responded with a synchronized retreat, lifting upward like vultures denied a feast. In seconds, they were gone, vanishing into the smog above the ruins. Tunde exhaled slowly. His eyes flicked to the crate. The shard glowed faintly in the shadows like a heart still beating.