Possessed Hunter Novels & Stories

He seats himself on the chair in front of the table and the conversation starts. “We were actually hunting that yokai for some years now… You probably wouldn’t know the term ‘hunting’ here. Or do you?” “No. I do not.” “Okay. I’ll explain it in simple terms. There are three categories under which people or humans in general fall under… The cast, the off-cast and the hunters. Well, only if you’re out of your mind will you take the hunting route. My point being that the cast can interact with spirits, dead people, apparitions if they have not passed into the afterlife and they decide to stick around as a rumour. The off-cast are those idiots who can’t see these apparitions and they decide to us

“HE’S A FUCKING PREDATOR! DO YOU UNDERSTAND WHAT THAT MEANS? HE EATS MEAT! HE HUNTS HIS PREY AND KILLS IT! DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU ARE? YOU’RE MEAT AND PREY ALL WRAPPED UP WITH A PRETTY BOW! FOR CHRIST’S SAKE, NATASHA! DO YOU HAVE A DEATH WISH?” I jerked away from him. “THE ONLY CREATURES IN THESE WOODS WHO HUNT ME ARE YOU GUYS!,” I screamed hysterically. I turned around and took off towards home. I didn’t stop running until I reached my porch. I put my key in the lock and tried to turn it. It didn’t move. I frowned and pulled the key out. I double checked that I had the right key, before trying again. Still nothing. I knocked on the door and waited for my mother to answer the door. She hadn’t

At the center, the Archivist floats, her body a conduit for the void, her voice a siren song erasing warriors mid-swing. The Hunter loads his gun. "You sure?" I cock the storm-gun. "I'm done running." We charge. --- **The Final Verse** The Archivist sees us coming. "*Fools!* You can't kill a god!" "We're not here for the god," the Hunter snarls. "We're here for the *priest*." He fires. The bullet tears through her mosaic face, glass shards scattering. She screams, the void in her unraveling. I aim at the rift above her-a pulsating wound in the sky. The static in me surges, merging with the storm-gun's charge.

And in that moment, the first Hunter was born. In the aftermath of the tearing, Allen Erickson didn't return to the football field. The golden boy of Asheville had been hollowed out, replaced by a vessel of cold, focused insanity. He spent his days in the charred husks of libraries and the hidden basements of occult bookstores, the ancient mage inside him guiding his hands toward manuscripts that would have driven a normal man to madness. He was studying, not for a degree, but for a genocide.

He's covered in an all black attire, his mouth and nose covered, leaving only his cold eyes that hold no emotion. Yup, definitely an assassin or... a hunter. The possibility of it being the latter clouds my judgement, making me suddenly feel weak in my knees, my eyes blurry. I'm having PTSD. No, no Ivy. Put yourself together, you have to make it out of here alive. There's a long blade in his hands. It's silver. It's definitely poisoned. It's a hunters blade. Experience has made me recognize it at one glance. My suspicion is right. He is a hunter.

“We all know the only way hunters would have made it through that veil is if access was granted to them. And…” “One of us,” I sigh, feeling a migraine coming on. Luca and Nyra are right. Someone who has the power to scale through that veil unscathed must have helped them. And it cannot have been a regular pack member. It’s someone much stronger. “And how are we even sure they are hunters?” Nyra says, her hand reaching for a shirt on the floor before she decides against it, the look of disgust in her eyes. “I mean, it could be anything, right?”

Claire interrupted, “What exactly is a Hunter?” He took a deep breath, steadying himself. “A hunter is a type of human who was or is a Mythical bounty hunter. They have enhanced skills; fighting abilities, enhanced senses. I think one or both of your parents were Hunters. Especially after seeing you in action. Haven’t you ever wondered how you could fight and keep up with the wolves and vampires in your coven and pack? Love, you ARE A HUNTER.”

Meanwhile, Hunter managed to call me and explain what had happened as he waited for me to arrive. He looked into the pool, at the reflection of the moon, and staring at the reflection of the moon in Li Lake drove him to insanity. He believed that he was destined to eliminate all supernatural beings, as he could see them for what they truly were; he could force them to transform, and this made them vulnerable. "He possesses all special weapons and accessories to kill werewolves, vampires, witches, and anything else," he continued, his voice filled with a pain that he couldn't define through his words.

Now this guy was pissing me off. “You don’t get to speak to her,” I snapped. “Not after what you did. You gave her up. You threw her out. You don’t own a single part of her anymore.” Hunter laughed bitterly, even through the pain. “You think you’re any different? We men are all the same. Possessive, controlling. You take them, parade them around, then leave them to rot when you’re bored. But I have changed.” I crouched down to his level, letting the wolf bleed into my eyes so they glowed which had him shaking as he didn’t understand what I was. “The difference is, I’ll burn the whole damn world before I let her rot. That’s what you’ll never understand.”

Caroline remembered Colton killing supernatural creatures with his sword and beheading their head into two pieces. He had tattoos all over his body, not that he made it out of fashion. It was because he was chosen to be a hunter. A lot of humans train to be a hunter, but not everyone is chosen. At the same time, the chosen hunters had their own disadvantages. They always have the urge to kill vampires, werewolves, or other creatures. Because the more they kill, the stronger they become.