Novelas y relatos de Post Apocalyptic Hunter

Akihiko was shocked on seeing the kid speak that way to the man in front of him and he says- “Kids aren’t supposed to talk to elders that way! Shame on you! And what kind of parent are you, letting your child talk like that?” They both start laughing on hearing him say that and the man says- “He isn’t my kid… He’s just a brat who works with me.” “Even though I look like this, in reality I am 25 years old. I’m just letting you know. “Oh, right. Before all of that, I had to introduce ourselves. We both are part of the Hunter community and we specialize in hunting creatures from stories.”

I fired one last time, hitting him strait between his soulless eyes. He fell to a quivering mass on the ground and I hit the top of the roof twice, letting Aaron know we were alone again. The green Ute slowed to a crawl, but didn't stop. I slipped my gun back into it's waiting home and dropped to a crouch, searching the nearest bags for the extra bulb the boys had brought back with the new food supplies. The adrenalin rush had left me breathless and shaky, but I needed to fix the light. The longer it was out, the longer we had a direct, unlit path to the car.

Ramsy boasted. Delta Ramsy mustered little heed to Higgins' pitiful state as the spat to the soon to-be corpse in his wake. Hunters were members of the resistance, who were mostly humans that had their only goal to be liberating their people and domineering the greater mass of carnivorous beast that desired to usurp any attempts they made to establish a system like theirs or breed enough to try. Higgins' life was dangling on a thin thread, his hands laid across the two ends of the baracade by chains anchored to his wrists and a weakened resolve from that death that just insisted on taking its time before truly drawing the life out of him.

Now I had them here I didn’t know what to say. “Spill it, Hunter,” Kellen shakes his head and I can't help but wince when I look at the deep scar that mars his face. I still didn’t know how he got it. “I’ve been back for two days. Things are different. I am different. I don’t have time for games and I’m anxious to get back to New Moon.” I'm sure the King of werewolves had a story to tell but I was in no hurry to hear what had transpired while he and Lamia were in another realm.

It was the ultimate wipe-out skill. Watching the scene unfold, a trace of fanatic excitement flashed in my eyes. I had gambled right. In this apocalypse where all order had collapsed, Ruth was the strongest cheat code, the biggest powerhouse I could cling to. And Callie’s armored vehicle? What was that compared to this?

He had dark curls, green eyes, and a calm smile that carried no pity. “Miss Vale?” I looked at him. “I’m Adrian Bellini. My family funds part of Professor Shaw’s closed project. She asked me to make sure you got back safely.” I remembered Professor Shaw mentioning the Bellini family once during a project meeting, but I had never met him before. “Hello, Mr. Bellini,” I said. Behind me, Dante did not follow. This time, I did not look back. The car door opened. Beyond the city, the institute waited: the lab, the project, the life I had once thought I would never live long enough to claim.

The Fierce Hunter Base convoy rumbled steadily along the cracked highway, the endless road stretching toward the horizon. The smell of decay lingered heavily in the air. Rotting human corpses, mangled monster carcasses, abandoned vehicles, and collapsed buildings littered both sides of the road, serving as grim reminders of just how dangerous the apocalypse truly was. No one dared lower their guard. After nearly seven hours of travel, the convoy gradually slowed. "We're here," Erick announced as he looked through the windshield. Ahead lay a wide-open area that had once served as a highway service station. It had now become the designated assembly point where several survivor bases would gath

I could even see the rising black smoke in the distance. That was the location of the firefight. "Less than two miles to go," the driver said. I tightened my grip on my weapon. 20 minutes later, the convoy reached the edge of the battlefield. The scene that unfolded before me was brutal. Out of a group of 40, only about 20 people remained who were still fighting. They were trapped in a half-collapsed shopping mall and surrounded by a dense horde of zombies. These weren't ordinary zombies. They were high-tier ones that were faster and stronger.

I didn’t expect the patch to come so soon. In the second month after the battle, the rooftop radio suddenly crackled to life with a crisp broadcast voice. "The Atlas Geothermal Initiative is now active. Surface temperatures will gradually recover. Rescue is on the way." Rhys and I just stared at each other. So this wasn’t a solo survival game after all. It was online, and the admins had finally logged in. A week later, a military helicopter landed in the open lot. Registration and verification went quickly. The officer in charge clapped me on the shoulder. "Turning the apocalypse into a warehouse operation! You’re one of a kind."

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.