Murder Drones Song Novels & Stories

he muffles and another gasps escapes from their mouths followed by low sobs. "No, my... brother...can't be dead" Julia sobs. "Tell us this is some prank and...." "My son isn't dead. He's alright and he'll come walking through that door very soon, you'll see" Kylie's mom cut Kylie mid-sentence. It was too painful to believe her son was dead. "Drake was murdered last night at Anna's apartment and Anna has gone missing and....." Jay's words went hanging as he saw Drake's mom collapsed on the chair. "Mom, mom" Kylie and Julia cries in panic shaking their mom's unconscious body. Jay stood up and picked up her hand.

Drones stutter in the air, their payloads destabilizing. Kieran glances at her, jaw tight. “You’re burning too hot.” “I can handle it,” she replies, voice strained but determined. “For them. For us.” They crest the final ridge. The drone hive sprawls below—a fortified installation pulsing with green energy. Hundreds of drones swarm upward like a dark plague. Rowena’s eyes flash. “Strike teams—go! Sienna, now!”

“There.” I follow her gaze, heart kicking up. Footprints in the mud, fresh, leading into the woods. Too big for Aiden’s usual tread. “Not him,” I say, gut twisting. “Someone else.” Before we can move, a low hum cuts through the rain—a drone, barely visible, hovering just above the trees. Its red light blinks, locking onto us. Ember curses, yanking me down as a dart hisses past, embedding in the wall behind us. “Tranqs,” she hisses. “They’re not playing.”

I shouted, hacking my phone. The screen flickered, jamming the drones’ signals. Sparks flew, and they crashed, debris scattering. Selene’s voice crackled through the chaos. “I can't believe Lana’s codes were perfect,” she taunted, her laugh cold. My blood boiled, claws twitching. “That traitor!” I muttered, fury rising. Dax and Jace rushed in, covering me. Seems like they've handled their own attack successfully. “Keep hacking!” Dax growled, slashing a guard. Jace nodded, tearing a drone apart. Blood flew, their moves relentless. I nodded, fingers flying on my phone, breaking more signals.

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

I ran to the kitchen window and looked up at the sky. The drone appeared above the trees. It was black, small, and far too quiet for its size. It hovered in the air for a few seconds, as if choosing its target. Then it descended slowly toward the back garden, where two of Declan’s soldiers were on patrol. Everything happened too fast. One of the men looked up and raised his weapon. The other shouted something. Before they could fire, the drone struck. The explosion was smaller than I expected, but still brutal. One soldier’s body was thrown backward as if hit by a car. The other fell to his knees, screaming. Smoke rose from the point of impact. Chunks of earth and blood flew through the air.

Her gaze held hatred, pleading, terror, and confusion. Ryan stood beside her and looked down. The way you look at an experimental result. You observe it, record it, then walk away. He walked back to the room and crouched beside the bed, pressing his face against her cold hand. Her fingers had no warmth left, but he stayed like that for a long time. The sound of the waves outside was enormous, loud enough that it sounded like someone crying. "Elena. Look." His voice was very quiet. "I did it for you. I've avenged you. Did you see? Say something back. Please."

Nauseous panic takes over, and I fall flat to the ground just as the automated DJ mix changes from Rae Sremmurd's black Beatles fades into Drake's mob ties. How perfect. Sh*t, sh*t, sh*t! The bullets continue to fly, and I can hear screams and bottles shattering from inside. I shut my ears and hope to God none of the bullets hit me. The dead representative's blood has pooled around and drenched me. "You know the drill boys! Round up all the girls who aren't dead yet to the black van and the men to the brown one!" "Make it snappy, lads, and check everywhere", another voice says.

“Well damn, that must have been one hell of a wet dream. I guess I had it coming.” I slung my feet over the edge of my bed and placed them on the floor beneath me. I nervously rubbed the back of my neck. “Uh, yeah. It was… one hell of a dream. You ready to work out?” “Yeah, whenever you are. Hades is already high so with good luck we won’t have to see his ugly face today.” At those words Drake and I made eye contact when we heard Cash and his gang change the song they were singing to the chorus of Tom Jones’ Slow hand.