Murder Drones Stories Novelas e Histórias

I scream, shoving Alex toward Aria. Drones—not our drones, but sleek, black, insect-like machines—swarm through the broken windows. They have lasers. They start firing. "Defensive protocols!" Echo roars, his avatar expanding to shield the crowd. But the black drones tear through his code like paper. "It's a war," Alex yells, grabbing Kai and Emma. "It's an extermination," I realize, watching a drone vaporize a table. The celebration is over. The revolution is over. The invasion has begun.

Leo, Torque, and the sixty Ironhead militiamen were standing in the mud, their weapons lowered, staring up at the sky in absolute, stunned silence. Hovering fifty feet above the courtyard, in a perfect, synchronized delta formation, were seven Ministry Seeker Drones. They were sleek, predatory machines, designed for urban pacification. They were armed with twin-linked kinetic submachine guns and non-lethal riot-suppression tear gas launchers. They were painted the oppressive, matte-black of the Blackwatch. Usually, the sight of even one of these drones in the Rust Belt would send scavengers fleeing into the sewers in terror. "Wraith," Torque whispered as Ren walked up beside him. The cyborg

The gangs went silent, their eyes once locked against each other were now fixed on the hovering machines above them. “8 seconds to comply.” Their stupor was broken, both sides fired on the drones, unleashing a tirade of gunfire on the machines. “7 seconds to comply.” The drones flew higher, dodging bullets and plasma. “6 seconds to comply.” Ymir caught sight of a single bulk in the distance. It was flying above Moreno Avenue. It was a mass of grey metal, shaped like shark of sorts. On its front were two lights, blue and red. They blinked furiously, blinding Ymir for a moment.

As the news broadcast reported a random serial killing near my residential complex, I knew—I had been reborn once again. In my first life, my husband insisted on going out in the middle of a snowstorm to buy weapons for self-defense. I locked every door and window, waiting at home, anxiety clawing at my chest. I never imagined the killer could pick locks. Before I could even react, a blade plunged into me, and I died on the couch. In my second life, I didn't hesitate. I hid in a concealed storage room, holding my breath. But the door was still pulled open. A man wearing a rabbit mask stared straight at me. "Found you," he said. In my third life, I ran to the police station. I rushed ins

When I got to the lounge, Lily was watching a movie on TV, and Billy had returned back to the apartment and was working on installing cameras around the hideout. I tried to avoid any eye contact with Drax while I crossed over to the other side to join Lily on the and probably watch the movie with her. After almost successfully walking past where Drax and Billy were working, I turned around to steal a glance, and that was when the bastard decided to raise his head. Immediately our eyes met, my heart jumped out of its position, and I quickly looked away, avoiding his innocent gaze. "We also need to change the mode of transmission of the drones signal to a mobile network, so we can be able to f

​The Ghost in the Mountain ​As they began their approach through the Gray Zone, the first wave of drones arrived. These weren't the "Harvest" scouts from the desert; they were "Executioner" class, heavy, spider-like machines that crawled across the gravel on multi-jointed legs, their twin-linked pulse cannons tracking the movement of the pack. ​"Scatter!" Leo roared.

He likes to refer to them a bottom feeders, vultures or the classic 'fucking freaks' depending on his mood. With all the media coverage that the case had garnered nation wide, he had hordes of people beating the doors down to see it. Everyone had wanted to see the infamous 'murder motel' where the crazy man and his deranged son had kidnapped all those women and then brutally murdered them. Everyone's favorite place to check out was the old well that had held all the bodies of the victims.

The blue beams of the drones' plasma cannons missed us by inches, lighting up the interior of the cockpit with a ghostly, neon glow. "They're circling for another pass," Killian said, his jaw set. "Elena, I can't outfly them in this bucket. It’s built for escape, not dogfighting." I looked at the drones. They were beautiful, in a cold, murderous way. They represented everything the Matriarch stood for—nature perfected by cold, unfeeling steel. "You don't have to outfly them," I said. I moved toward the airlock at the rear of the pod.

Valerius growled, preparing to release his protective mist. But it's not magic. It was the thermal sensor of the Vanguard Inner City Security Division's "Black-Widow" micro combat drone squadron. The drone's red eyes are not a curse, but rather a mini-sized nuclear-powered target locking laser. Before the ancient Alpha could even summon his arcane shield, a merciless barrage of hyper-velocity rounds shattered the concrete beneath his feet. As the mechanical swarm descended for the kill, Valerius realized with chilling dread that in this new metallic era, technology was the ultimate apex predator.

She needed to get in contact with the cops; she needed an update about Helena's case, or else she would lose her mind. “Detective Sergio,” she whispered as she typed in their local browser. Alice waited for a couple of seconds before it fully loaded. However, instead of the detective’s profile, news articles about the Roccos’ murders appeared. Alice’s body went cold as she opened the first article that appeared on the site. It was the same old story about Vivien and Roger killing the Roccos, and so she easily scanned through those, not bothering to read. She stopped at the end of the site where a link to a video was placed.