Supernatural Truck Route 666 Novels & Stories

“I need traffic cams and satellite feeds—track a black Chevy Suburban, five minutes from the Stillwater Ridge cabin. Two passengers—woman, kid. One unconscious female adult, possible hostage. Suspect is Camille Marek.” Lucien doesn’t ask questions. “You’ll have a route in forty minutes.” “I need it in twenty.” Silence. Then: “You’ll have it in ten.” I hang up and get behind the wheel. I don’t turn on the music. Don’t speak. Just drive. The forest blurs past as I leave the road entirely. The GPS route Lucien sends pings the Suburban’s course—eastbound. Target: a private airstrip just past the state line.

The road ahead was uncertain, fraught with challenges and the echoes of shattered trust. Seconds turned to minutes, and the minutes continued to tick by as I chased the other lycan through the crowded streets. The traffic was relentless, slowing me down and granting my target an advantage of escape. The supernatural nature of our pursuit became apparent as the lycan leaped over vehicles, leaving deep scratches in their wake. Startled humans gasped and pointed, their eyes widening in disbelief at the evidence of our existence intertwined with their own.

He has to be here. I look around in the vast parking lot, to see it empty. Dammit! I lost him! Breathing heavily,I try to catch my breath when my eyes stop at the truck parked on the other side of the road. My heart thudding rapidly in my chest as I went closer to read it's number plate. 5647 NEQ Sh**! He was is here...it was not my illusion...he was the same man...he was here to hurt me. But the thing that scared me more.

“Two days ago. That was the last I could find of him.” “Any idea on where the meeting was?” “Say, do you two like tacos?” he asked. Segue much? “There is this fantastic taco truck that drives around. I sometimes see it just outside of town headin’ to this industrial complex.” “We may have to go for a drive, then.” “Watch out, though, there are some rats that hang out in those things.” Six nodded and stood. “Good luck.” “You, too. Take care.” Six stood and wrapped his arm around my waist, guiding me back out to the madhouse of the casino floor. Diving between gaps of people, we wove through throngs of mindless walkers the entire way back out to the front to pick the car up from valet.

"There's a kid back there who's stayed alive since he was six by never once going where he was expected, and he's the only one of the three of us who's any good at this. Ask him how you get to Nevada without arriving in it." Maya turned around and looked at the truck. And a hundred yards past it, back down the road they'd just driven, headlights came over the rise. Two sets. Then four. Moving fast, and not braking, and not the sort of vehicles that ought to be on Highway 26 at half past five in the morning. "Eli." Maya didn't turn round. "Get in the truck."

The silence that followed the power failure was predatory. I stood in the center of the dark garage, the .45 heavy in my hands. My eyes adjusted to the darkness, aided only by the moonlight filtering through the shattered window. Every shadow seemed to mimick the monsters. Outside, the faint hiss of tires on gravel announced their arrival. I crept to the edge of the large bay door, peering through a rusted crack in the metal. Three black transport trucks, the kind used for hauling livestock or heavy machinery, rolled into the lot. Behind them followed two tactical SUVs with the Aegis Zenith logo embossed on the doors.

"That's right, Nate. If I'd known about all of this from the start, I never would've argued with you. Hannah was so beautiful and kind. If she were my daughter, I would have fought them to the very end." "Let's not talk about that for now," I said. "Call the police and let them handle this." Ethan called the police, but the snow kept falling harder, and even the satellite signal started cutting in and out. At first, the warnings from the police managed to turn quite a few people away. But once Elias raised the reward to a billion dollars, nobody answered their calls anymore. 30 minutes later, the snow had reached our knees. Out of the thousands in the convoy, only a few dozen people made it

They then returned as spirits, that very day after saying goodbye to their little schools to look for their parents to go and live with them eternally. This location was among the most dangerous interstate roads and tunnels between the states of the so-called routes of Deaths in Hells of Demons from Devil´s Burrows that had a connection between seven states, which ran through those mountains, which passed between the highways and the routes between the mountains, called the Dead Man route between the roads and the steep curves between the suspension bridges until you travel a twisting path of the mountains, called Zombies Lands

“It’s possible that a vampire didn’t do it, but the results are inconclusive because their blood was drained from their bodies too. Mathias and I met last night to discuss the possibility. Since the witches, Marael and Sahara Dawson, are dead, and other than the missing heads, the kids still had their organs, we’ve ruled out sacrifice. The only other possibility is that there’s something else occurring out there. There has to be a reason their heads were taken. If not for a ritual, then an out-of-control supernatural is going on a serial killing spree. Either way, we have to take care of it before the humans become suspicious. Or worse, they find proof that Supernaturals do exist. So far, si

I said, walking closer to the men while examining the vehicle with my eyes. “Only one percent of truck drivers have these. It’s from the big cities where humans live,” one of them replied. “Hmmm, I see. Then you should be careful if you’re heading north. There’s been a big pile of cow poop that hasn’t been moved. It could ruin your perfect tires,” I lied, trying to get him to reveal his destination. “Oh, that’s bad for them. I’m heading west, so it’s not really my problem. One of the small districts Skywood Pack owns.”