Supernatural Truck Route 666 Novels & Stories

Martin asked. Nick nodded. “It’s worth a try. Werewolves are nasty beasts.” Martin snickered. “Like vampires are better?” “They aren’t as strong and smelly,” Nick pointed out. Martin nodded as started walking toward the auto rental office. ‘True, but both can kill us.” According to their calculations, they needed to go east for a few blocks and then south until they reached the dirt road that led to the crossover into the supernatural realm. Nick hopped behind the wheel of the SUV they managed to secure while Martin crouched in the back, making things ready for when they retrieved Vanessa.

"Just me. And a new beginning." Two hours later, the truck pulled up to the bustling concrete terminal of the city transit hub. The air here was loud, dirty, and thoroughly human. Neon signs flashed from diner windows, horns honked in the congested traffic, and hundreds of people hurried past, entirely oblivious to the supernatural wars being fought just fifty miles away. Evelyn thanked the driver, slipping him a fifty-dollar bill from her small stash of cash despite his protests. She walked into the terminal, the bright fluorescent lights reflecting off the linoleum floors.

Please come home before he does something we can't undo. The Locator Rite. Blood magic that would trace my location no matter where I hid. It required the Alpha's blood and the consent of two other pack members, which meant my father was pulling in favors, building consensus for tracking down his rebellious daughter. I heard a roar of engine screaming at a pitch that didn't sound right. Then light, blinding and wrong, headlights that carved through the fog at an angle that defied physics. The truck came around the corner doing at least sixty, out of control, skidding sideways on the wet pavement. I stood frozen, my brain unable to process what I was seeing, unable to make my legs move.

Silence fell between them—heavy, suffocating. They both knew how bad things could get… if their suspicions turned out to be true. Mr. Harthwore wouldn’t need to lift a finger. His son, Joshua, was more than capable—perhaps even worse. If it came to that, he would make sure the driver from that night was found and punished. “The truck has been involved in multiple incidents,” Adrian said finally. “From the records, most could pass as accidents… but not all.” He leaned forward slightly. “What happened last night? That didn’t feel random.”

“Signal Ghost. Tell him to use the Pennsylvania decoy route. Make it look like an ambush.” Zayn types quickly. “Done.” The team we hired is ex-military—mercenaries with no allegiance beyond money. I don’t trust easily, but Ghost’s crew are ghosts for a reason. No trails. No names. No mess. As the second feed flickers online, we watch headlights appear in a secluded part of the Appalachian highway. Two semi-trucks, loaded with Dante’s merchandise. A black SUV intercepts them. Tires screech. Men shout.

He starts driving as he talks. “I have Delaney, Oston, and Brad chasing down the truck. There are four teams, of four, taking as many routes to Vulcan as possible. One is taking the fastest route, while the other three are taking more of the secondary highways. Hopefully that way if they stop along the way we can find them. Brad called from Waskateneau Callum has been leaving a bit of a bread trail using paint. They were able to link Callum for a bit, Alaina and Grant are alive, and he was able to link them for a bit but he was pretty sure that they were dosed with some wolfsbane, or something, as the link cut out.”

“Stay close to the towns. Don’t use the rural roads. They’re much more dangerous.” “Thank you for everything,” Emma told the woman before grabbing her things and leaving. Emma went into the grocery store and bought some supplies and put them in a bag she had bought earlier. She saved some money from the road and started walking. She was lucky to find a truck that was going down south. It was carrying animal manure. She promised to pay her fare so the driver let her go with him. The journey would have been perfect if not for the stinky manure in the back. The manure had been made from bat faeces and they smelled really horrible. It was hard to ignore. Her supernatural senses did not make thin

He replied and left the RV. “Head to the city you were going to, have dinner, then turn around and head back. Trackers are heading in this direction. They’ll get distracted and you’ll make it home. They’re looking for Logan. Your vehicle smells like him. Get going.” Winston told us and left as well. I looked at the camera. Buddy gave the go sign and hit record. “So, it seems we have nothing to fear from the supernaturals who are rebelling against our government. Our, possibly, puppet government. One that may, in fact, be run by supernaturals who want to keep us weak.

The operation was unlike any other. Lukas sat near the exit of the truck, allowing him to see the other four trucks behind the convoy filled with the recently sent 666IB soldiers from other Outpost Detachments. Most of them had seen a fair share of Hell and doesn't need any form of watered down instructions unlike with the rookies who were clueless about almost everything.

Ethan's life hung in the balance, his very existence teetering on the precipice of annihilation, and Conard vowed to unleash the full fury of his wrath upon the monstrous entity that threatened his fallen comrade. Lady Susan, a member of the Werewolf God Destroyer, and her loyal companion, Ryan, stood at the precipice of a new adventure. Their mission was clear: to find the remaining three God Supreme souls, scattered across the vast expanse of existence. With no werewolf wielder to guide them, their path was uncertain, yet their resolve was unwavering. Lady Susan and Ryan, the valiant duo of the Werewolf God Destroyer, embarked on a perilous quest to gather the scattered fragments of the Go