Murder Drones Oc Maker Novels & Stories

Behind him, Elara’s fingers hovered over the EMP-shielded terminal, her heart hammering a frantic rhythm against her ribs. For a terrifying moment, nothing emerged from the shadows. Then, a low, mechanical whirring broke the silence. From the darkness rolled a Genesis Island automated sentry drone, its optical sensor glowing a hostile, corrupted purple instead of its standard operational blue. It wasn't patrolling; it was hunting. The drone’s twin micro-machine guns locked instantly onto Dante’s thermal signature. Dante didn't hesitate. He fired twice in rapid succession. The heavy .45 caliber hollow-points shattered the drone's optical array and pierced its battery housing. It sparked viole

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

With one precise shot, the drone dropped. By the time she reached the sand, Ember and Ezra were already there, weapons drawn. “What was that?” Ember asked, eyeing the wreckage. Alma bent down, brushing sand from the drone's mangled body. Her eyes narrowed as a tiny projector on its side blinked red. “Message drone,” she murmured. “Military grade. Possibly Russian design but the encryption? That’s private sector.” Ezra squinted. “It’s locked with a biometric trigger. Only opens for you.”

I made it a statement. Horvat and Camilla nodded. "The truck carrying the rest of the victims moved too far out of the drone's signal range. We were unable to follow." Nik pushed her chair into the camera's frame. "Which drones? I could probably tweak that or at least get a signal booster." Horvat rambled off a brand name and model number. Nik nodded. "I can get a signal booster. But those are fixed range drones. Since you know the sex worker facility, could you do a branch off from there? Send some buyers in, see if they can get a fix on the microchips?"

"My father didn't just build a silo for your parents, Mia. He built a contingency for himself." Inside the cellar sat two bikes. They weren't Harleys, and they weren't prototypes. they were Interceptor Pursuits, built with heavy-duty frames and reinforced with the same titanium-alloy we’d used for the Norton. They were stripped of chrome, painted a non-reflective matte grey, and equipped with oversized fuel tanks. "These are tuned to the frequency of the drone," Dax explained, tossing me a matte-grey helmet. "They have a localized jammer in the intake. If we can get within fifty yards of that thing, we can confuse its sensors long enough to force a remote landing."

"What do you mean, nothing? We have a video. We have a voice. We have a drone that was carrying a biological weapon." "The drone was a ghost-build," Silas explained. "The parts were 3D-printed with untraceable polymers. The software was a one-time-use kernel that wiped itself the moment the jamming signal hit it. As for the voice... it was piped through a series of seven different satellite relays. It didn't originate from a phone or a computer. It originated from a dead-drop server that was physically destroyed the second the call ended." Czar’s jaw tightened. "And the villa? The forensic team found no DNA? No prints?"

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.

Because, unless things changed, or secrets leaked, there are only two people in the world knew exactly what my drones were capable of beyond flying around taking footage and mapping spaces. Thanks to Titan's ingenuity and my access to discreet fabrication, each of my "survellance" drones were outfitted with cutting-edge, lightweight electromagnetic pulse guns. If two or more focused on that van, it could be slowed to a stop. Two people--Not Gerald, nor Allison. Just myself and the man who designed them. "ASP," I spoke to the AI assistant "Tell the nearest drones to focus on the white van heading south from my current location. Protocol Omega 3"

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 don't know what their plans are but, somehow, it makes me wonder why Nathan did not join Roger's plan if they already talked about it. "We have a plan too. Well, technically, it was simply an easy one. But no one gets hurt, no one will die, and there's no need for thousands of wolves, aside from that I only have two more drones and one car toy left after you wrecked my first drone." I proposed and stationed the second drone behind the leaves of the tree as soon as I noticed its whirring sounds above us. They already wrecked our first drone and it was already worth a thousand dollars alone. My friends and I can no longer afford if the six thousand dollars worth in my possession will end up