Stalker Novels & Stories

They stood with military precision. The filthy rags sloughed off their shoulders, falling into the toxic sludge of the loading bay to reveal the sleek, matte-black armor beneath. High Council Stalkers. They had embedded themselves in the dying perimeter packs, waiting for the dome to crack, waiting for the anomaly to step out of the light. The lead Stalker stepped over a cowering, skeletal woman. He didn't draw a blade. He raised a heavy, silver-salt containment rifle, the barrel humming with a sickly purple charge.

"This isn't a soot-storm anymore. We have a 'Phase-Shift' breach!" The suspense of the "Descent" was a nightmare of shifting geometry. The Stalkers didn't need to break the bronze-wood hull; they simply vibrated at a frequency that allowed them to pass through solid matter as if it were a liquid. On the residential levels, the temperature plummeted. Wherever a Stalker passed, the moisture in the air didn't just freeze—it sublimated into jagged frost-flowers that hummed with a low, malevolent energy.

They had never seen tech like that. "Sorcery!" one of them yelled. "Technology," Catherine corrected, stepping out from behind Marcus. She raised her wrist. Her gauntlet glowed white. She didn't freeze them. She froze the ground under their feet. A wave of ice shot out, covering the forest floor. The Stalkers slipped, crashing down in a heap of limbs and old rifles. "Hold your fire!" Jack shouted in Russian. "We aren't here to fight you!" The leader of the Stalkers, a man with a scarred face visible through his cracked gas mask, looked at the ice, then at Marcus’s shield, then at Jack’s glowing silver eyes.

But then the latch gave a quiet snap, and the door began to open. Every muscle in my body went rigid. Sylvara stirred instantly, she was sharp and ready. “Stay still,”she warned. I nodded almost imperceptibly and reached for the small silver dagger I kept on my bedside table. My fingers trembled against the cool metal. The door creaked wider. The room was dark enough that whoever stood there looked terrifying,it was tall, broad and it was a man!. Sylvara growled softly through my mind. “If he moves, we strike.”

They didn't walk; they surged forward like a living tide of ink, their elongated limbs forming and dissolving with every movement. Where they passed, the stone cracked, and the very color bled out of the world, leaving only grayscale in their wake. ​"Stay back!" Dave shouted, instinctively stepping in front of Laura. He braced himself, his hands glowing with the sickly, flickering energy of his own curse, ready to unleash a defensive blast. ​But as the first Stalker lunged, a sudden roar shattered the tension. A tall, imposing figure stepped out from the ruined town hall.

Hacker stops and puts up a hand, letting me know to stay still and be quiet. “We’re coming, Hacker. Do not engage!” Raptor says. Unfortunately, at that moment, a very feral looking Stellan slams out of Landon and Lila’s bedroom. He’s panting heavily and frothing at the mouth. “Feral,” Hacker confirms. I’m not sure if it’s meant for me or Raptor, but Raptor responds immediately. “Hacker, get the fuck out of there. NOW!” I understand that we can’t move. Any movement on our part will turn Stellan’s ire toward us. Instead, Hacker stands perfectly still, his body pressing mine against the wall so I can barely see what’s going on.

No, it wasn’t him. Though he shared a silhouette with Cameron, his eyes were different. This person was much more ruthless and sinister. “Who are you?” I asked shakily. “I’m Cameron’s brother, Stuart.” The man pulled down his mask, revealing a face with a striking resemblance to Cameron’s. Only, he had horrifying jagged scars across his face. His malice level was 5,000. “My brother has gone missing.” Stuart took out a blade and fiddled with it between his fingers.

The chest remained still, yet the beast vibrated with a low-frequency hum that rattled the teeth. Silence Stalker. The name drifted through my mind, a fragment of lore Nash had once recited to me. They eat the sound. They hunt the quiet. Nash cursed, a ragged sound of pure frustration. He lunged forward, swinging the heavy bone crutch like a club. "Get back! Stay away from them!" The movement was clumsy. Nash’s ruined legs gave him no leverage. He was slow. The Stalker didn't even dodge. It simply twitched—a blur of motion.

Yet he moved forward, his jaw set, his boots sinking deep into the crimson-tinged snow. "Stalkers," Lucian muttered suddenly, bringing the party to a sharp halt. Out of the whiteout gloom, half a dozen shapes emerged. They were not common void-spawn, but Void-borne stalkers—twisted, arachnid-like beasts born of black glass and ice, moving with silent, terrifying speed along the sheer cliff faces above them. "Form up!" Vance barked, drawing his heavy sword and locking his shield with Lucian. Kira drew her shortsword, stepping directly in front of Cassian. "Four above, two on the ridge. Vance, take the right. Lucian, left!"

The lead stalker was thrown backward forty feet, crashing through two pine trunks before slamming into the muddy earth, smoking and unmoving. The remaining two stalkers froze, their amber eyes widening in sheer, utter shock as they looked between their fallen comrade and the violent blue storm swirling around my broad body. "The kinetic thunder..." the lead stalker whispered in horror, stepping back into the mist. "He bears the High Alpha's hammer..." "Alexander!" Alora screamed behind me. The third stalker hadn't retreated—it had circled around the boulders, diving