Post Apocalyptic Hunter Novels & Stories

'We have company. As we crested the hill, the smell of humans wafted over to us. Humans and silver. 'Hunters,' Trevor gasped. We all pushed harder. I hardly had time to process the scene we came up to before Adair was leaping through the air, landing on the back of a man with a gun pointed between the eyes of a small, auburn colored wolf. Our claws dug down the length of his back, fangs sinking into the back of his neck. We leapt off his back. He wasn’t quite dead, but he was human. He wasn’t long for this world. I lunged around, launching at the youngest one. We almost felt bad as we ripped through his throat. He was only a kid, a life full of hopes and dreams ahead of him. But the silver b

They’ll want to check the wreckage to confirm I’m not inside. Keeping low to the ground, I hurried away from the crash as the hunters pulled up, hooting and hollering like the demented Americans they are. Now I don’t mean to say all Americans are demented. But the American hunters are an uncouth sort that takes a weird joy in killing, things being on fire, and vehicles getting into accidents. Whatever the case, their joyful hoots and hollers that I might be dead and arguments about who gets to take credit gave me time to get away. I hurried to the nearest neighborhood to search for a car to take.

But they never came back. When I went looking for them, I found nothing. No bodies. No scent trail. Only the lingering stench of death and the cruel reality that they were gone forever. I searched for years, trying to uncover who was behind it. But the answers remained out of reach. Still, I know one thing for sure. It was a hunter. A ruthless killer who preys on supernatural creatures like sport. He moves in the shadows, striking whenever he gets the chance. I have seen the aftermath of his work, bodies drained of blood, throat slit, and ashes scattered like dust. And I swear on my blood, on my soul, on everything I am… I will find that bastard. And when I do, his death will be slow. Agoniz

But months passed and none of that happened. I healed and started going hunting with Zane. Being in the forest felt like home for some reason. Like I belonged there, hunting came easy to me. it felt like prey submitted to me, with each hunting trip I would come back with rabbits, pheasants, wild boar and the like. Grandma and I started eating meat with each meal.

Any day I would be giving birth, and my only wish was he could be here. In the days after the attack, Artemis was behind, I barely had a chance to talk to him. I thought things would be fine, but that hadn’t been the case. It wasn’t Artemis we had to worry about; it was Hunter. He revealed everything that happened when he was in Purgatory, at least what he could remember. The biggest surprise was that he had been made into a God Killer by Artemis and someone named Talon. Hunter said that Talon had taken away the powers that he had received, but it had only been temporary.

"Let's get those damn trackers out of us." We waited an extra day, just in case more came. The mountain remained eerily quiet, the snow undisturbed except for the tracks we had left behind. By the time the sun began to dip behind the trees, casting long shadows across the frozen ground, we were packing up and heading down. The whole thing felt wrong. Orin. Jade. Werewolf hunters turning into what they hunted? All of it felt off. What was the point of it all? The truck came into view, buried under a layer of snow, and I couldn’t have been happier to see it.

she asked. Karen had so many questions, and I didn't know how to answer her. I wished I had the answers, especially now, but I didn't, and it kind of made me feel bad. I knew I had to explain things to her a bit. "The Hunter family are supernatural hunters. They are human beings with special abilities to locate and identify people like me. They also can match our skills and kill us. They are the most dreaded bloodline of all the supernatural hunters. It was all fair initially. The Hunters made sure everyone followed the rules, and no one cheated anyone. We saw them more like judges, juries and executioners. Whenever there were issues, the Hunters would solve them. They could tell when we wer

I breathed hard, dragging my body up as I crawled forward on all fours like a fucking dog. I didn't stop, didn't even look back, not even when the air around me stiffened. Not even when the animals went quiet and the trees froze as though they had held their breath. Because deep down, I already knew what this meant. Growing up, I heard stories, rumours by the other slaves about the Hunter's Territory. No one dared to cross last this line, not even Alpha's or Betas and especially, not Omegas like myself. This land belonged to someone or something more deadly and mysterious.

He speedily reacted, his tone seeming somehow protective in spite of our short acquaintance, before he persisted, “It’s risky, but the rewards are worth it. I hunt for supplies in the abandoned dwellings I come across, but I’ve been having to search further and further from our home base as everything gets picked over. I’m also one of the mechanics when I’m not off scouting, so it was fortunate I was out this way today.” He’d added the last part almost as an afterthought, but I was more than grateful for his presence, knowing I wouldn’t be here otherwise. I listened intently to Gage as he tried to acquaint me with everything that he thought I needed to know about this post-apocalyptic world

When they finally finished, they dragged me outside into the wasteland. The base had been transformed into a sprawling post-apocalyptic settlement. Burned-out vehicles served as shelters, barbed wire fences marked territories, flickering fires burned in metal barrels, and groups of “survivors”— all rich Club members dressed in ragged, sexy post-apocalyptic costumes— roamed the area like predators. The sky was artificially darkened with massive screens, making it feel like the real end of the world. I was thrown into the center of the main camp, landing on my hands and knees in the dirt.