Saving People Hunting Things Novels & Stories

They had a clean up business in the West. To tell you the truth about me, being born in a family werewolves hunters; it feels like I was born in the wrong body. We are trained to kill wolves but I came up with an evacuation plan because I don’t believe in the justification of killing another kind. No one has the right to take another person's life or mistreat them all in the name of the new era, rebranding the country to a werewolves free state. I have been killing different types of creatures for when I can't remember. Even though I do find some of them cute, I still kill them. Now the People’s pack is our next bus stop because all the data is pointing to them picking humans as their prey d

I offer her a smile, and her eyes drop to look at my exposed teeth, and I feel a wave of self-consciousness as she zeros in on my canines. "Do you really use your teeth when hunting for food," she asks quietly, changing the subject completely. I nod while trying not to show my confusion at her question. "Yes. What do humans use," I ask, and she laughs a little? My pride rejoices in earning the joyful sound from her, and I smile. Her heart rate has returned to normal, and her petite body is relaxed into mine. "Most humans don't hunt. We purchase our meat in stores with money. Large companies produce or breed our food. But when people do hunt, it is mostly for sport. They tend to use guns or w

I screamed, instinctively curling into him. Three men emerged from the trees. They smelt like humans, clad in camouflage and gear. Their rifles gleamed under the moonlight. Their eyes were wild with the thrill of the chase, not knowing what we were… just knowing they were hunting something. "Stay where you are!" one of them shouted. They clearly weren't Alexa's minions. They were probably just hunting for game, maybe rogues, maybe they were just angry to find trespassers. Their weapons obviously didn’t care who we were. Bullets still tore flesh.

My aunt was going to give me hell for that one if I lived long enough to get home. This hole wasn’t just some kind of sinkhole or anything like that. This was a hunter’s trap and just not any kind of hunter, but a fanatical hunter. Hunters were humans who sought to protect humans from the supernatural and fell into two groups. The guardians who hunted the crazed and murderous supernaturals. Someone like me had nothing to fear from the guardians. Like how actual witches didn’t need to worry about being burned at the stake and all that, but being tied to one was still freaking annoying.

"We can't take them along. They stays in DC we need to protect them. We even have enough food and water which can last for a year in DC once we're done we will come back for them. Jane replied They both go back to DC. *Five month earlier* On 3rd of Febuary. A man named Collins. Went out, while driving on the high way, he came across a deer and hit it with his car, get down from the car and pick it up, and took it home.The man is a hunter living in Hill-Cambridge at the east. He lives alone. He took the deer home, then slay the deer.

Immediately after, in Adam's eyes, quickly appeared the figures of several people. Though they didn't have equipment like the three hunters he had met in the village. But these people, all skilled hunters, had rifles in their hands, specialized for hunting large animals. However, Adam also had no fear. At this point, he just wanted to kill the wild boar, then use its blood and flesh to replenish his already empty stomach. Only, this wild boar is really too stubborn. Even though he held on so tight, it wanted to struggle to get to its feet, hoping to escape his strength.

They were responsible for the deaths of a handful of our pack members. Hunters did exactly what their name suggested. They hunted but not wild animals like deer and woodland creatures. Nah, they hunted supernaturals. If that wasn’t bad enough, they often took those supernaturals to torture and experiment on. It was truly disgusting what they did. There was a reason why we safeguarded the knowledge of our species. Nobody wanted to be captured and experimented on by the hunters or scientists. Too many of my kind had been killed after they were no longer deemed useful.

I checked the time and dragged my not fully healed body over there. By the time I arrived, the reporters had already filled the venue, and the place was packed. Through the crowd, I immediately spotted Quintus and Vanessa. Quintus stood beside her wheelchair, looking at her with tender concern, while Vanessa had dressed herself to appear more gravely injured than she actually was. They held hands, playing the role of a devoted couple perfectly. A reporter turned to Vanessa and asked, "Who do you want to thank the most for surviving this disaster?" Vanessa gave a weak but radiant smile. "I want to thank the doctors who saved my life. Without them, my baby and I wouldn't be here today."

Panic written all over her face, Sophia rushed to the utility hallway. The child's medical kit was on the left side while the cleaning chemicals were on the right. Two identical blue plastic bottles were sitting side by side. She reached out, her hand hesitating for a fraction of a second, before grabbing the bottle on the right. In the video, the eight-year-old version of me suddenly lunged into the frame, grabbing Sophia's wrist. Sophia, frantic and distracted, shoved me out of the way. I didn't stop. I chased her directly into the bathroom.

The truck came into view, buried under a layer of snow, and I couldn’t have been happier to see it. “I’ve mindlinked some men to come clean up the mountain,” Marcus said as he brushed snow off the windshield. “With the human dead, the police might come to investigate. “We wouldn’t want massive wolves and bodies scattered around when they do.” Riley climbed into the passenger seat without a word, while Ronan and I slipped into the back. “We already have werewolf hunters on our case,” Marcus continued, pulling the driver’s door open. “We wouldn’t want the damn world hunting us too.”