Scout X Sniper Novels & Stories

Loud and shrill screams rung in the air as people shouted in utter fear. The group of cats ran hearing the piercing noise and made loud noises in the air. Nathan put the rifle beside him and smirked looking at his aim. The gunshot hit exactly at the target, man’s heart, after all, he was a professional shooter and that too merciless. His task was completed. Putting the rifle back in its case and taking off the ear protection, he picked up the case, and within thirty seconds he was out of the house... He is Nathan Williams, the Scorpion of the underworld. The most dangerous and feared mafia lord of Chicago...

His name is Zeke Santos and the sniper of the team. "What happened?" a handsome man asked. He's Evan Potter and the Team Captain. He is respected by his men deeply. He looked outside again by using the telescope. "WHAT IS SHE DOING?! IS SHE COURTING DEATH?!" another man loudly said as he felt scared for the high school girl. His name is Garry Vallens and the bomb expert of the team. "SHIT! THAT ZOMBIE IGNORE HER?!" another man cursed. His name is Tyler Swift and the strategist of the team.

Making them merge with the other groups. We train daily. We are responsible for learning as many tactics as possible. I as well as both betas and James are the main snipers. We usually are the first to arrive at the scene and the last to leave the scene. We gotta specialize in everything. From artillery to, combat, human and wolf form. Our specialty consists of different martial arts, combat, being the best with weapons, and my favorite.... being swift with the sword. There's just something about ripping a vamps head off with one single swift from my blade. Almost like a knife going through butter.

Snow weighed down its branches and offered solid concealment. A sniper rifle appeared in his hands, wrapped in white cloth. It was not the old police rifle. This was a military-grade model designed to function reliably in harsh conditions. Even extreme cold could not degrade its performance. Cyrus dropped to one knee, braced the rifle against a forked branch, and lined up the scope on the canvas bag by the door. He was half a mile away. If Dorian showed himself, Cyrus could kill him instantly. Once everything was in place, Cyrus pulled out his phone and sent a message.

The other angles directly toward the center of our formation — toward me, I realize, with the particular certainty of someone who's been specifically briefed on what to look for. She knows what I look like. Vayne told them. I step forward before Kael can position himself between us. This isn't recklessness — it's calculation, the specific kind I've gotten better at running quickly. If the scout is here for me specifically, intercepting elsewhere just delays the inevitable. The scout closes distance fast. I let her. She's good — trained, precise, the kind of combat education that comes from years of dedicated practice rather than desperate necessity. Her first strike tests my guard, probing r

Someone from outside—the sniper, her brain gamely supplied, they’d said there was a contract this week, didn’t expect it so soon—cycled the bolt on a rifle, icy-precise. Wyn’s breath lit the air between them, little puffs of pure terror. Xander’s pupils were murder, narrowed and sharp-shining, and his hand squeezed Wyn’s neck shoulder-tight until the kid blinked back into reality. “We’ve got to move,” he hissed. Below, the stairwell filled with boot-thumps and the sound of Morgan’s voice, pitching orders in that frosted, minister’s calm she deployed for open wounds and close calls. Carolina clawed to her knees, vision throbbing, and levered Wyn up by the collar.

Push him far enough, and he wouldn't hesitate to put a bullet in her. When life and death were on the line, who had the luxury of worrying about whether the sword should stay sheathed? People like that—give them even the greatest powers, and they'd still die horribly. Ray kept searching, and soon, a smile appeared on his face. He'd found a sniper rifle. Sniper rounds were different from standard rifle ammunition—faster, with far greater penetration. To be honest, what Ray really wanted was an RPG or a heavy machine gun. Even a regular machine gun would do in a pinch.

He shifted in time to avoid being seen by him or the sniper, both no more than two hundred feet away. The sniper kept his attention on his Colt M4 rifle with the detachable suppressor and adjusted his sights. The spotter's lips moved as he spoke quietly to the gunman. The pair should never have allowed Alexus to get this close, but they didn't know. He'd leave behind the team, and soon it would be all over. For them. Alexus started to move again. The sniper's body tensed as if sensing something. Alexus froze. The spotter disappeared from view. A moment later, the sniper swung his sights on Alexus.

However, Xander had a gun now, and it was the most advanced one. Xander said excitedly, "This is the enemy's sniper rifle. It has excellent accuracy and is said to be equipped with night-time silencing and infrared vision. Suddenly, Xander became a bit depressed. "I don't really understand the specifics, but this is the gun that injured Mr. Gagnier. Thankfully, he dodged in time. He only hurt his arm. Miss, where did you get this gun from?"

“Ready to hunt boys.” Stevie’s hand brushes mine. “I know I am.” Hushed growls agree all around me. “Rowan, Huge, stay with the supplies— Before I can finish, a rustle behind us snaps my focus around. Something moves in the brush. I spin, grab, and haul the figure forward—young, fast, but not fast enough. He hits the ground hard, a blade clattering from his hand. He’s wearing Nightshade colors. “Scout,” Stevie says, aiming her arrow.