Teenage Mercenary Novels & Stories

“I ran his face through every legal database…Italy, Russia, the U.S. Nothing came up. It’s like the dude’s a ghost.” “Well, I hope there’s a but coming,” I said coldly. “And for your sake, you’re a ghost hunter.” Fear flickered in his eyes. He rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah… so I hacked into the black market security network. He’s called The Dead. Weird, right?” “The Dead?” I repeated. Was he fucking serious? “Wait… he’s…” My voice trailed off as the realization hit. “He’s a mercenary,” Ryan finished. “Or more precisely… the head of a mercenary gang.”

He thinks he’s just another game, another conquest, another name on a long list of men I’ve used and discarded. He’s not. He’s entirely different. Everyone else? They came willingly. Most of them made the first move, throwing themselves at me like I was something worth chasing. It was never difficult, never a challenge. They saw me, knew my name, knew my family, and they wanted in. They didn’t give a fuck about me. They wanted the lifestyle, the power, the reputation that came with being the guy who fucked the Don’s son. Mercer isn’t like them.

he says. "Your turn for what?" He stands up. The movement is stiff; the cold has settled into his joints. He walks to the edge of the ridge, looking out at the invisible line where the ocean meets the sky. "I've spent fifteen years being a mercenary. A contractor. A man with a price." He turns. The wind whips his hair across his forehead. "But I don't want to be that man anymore." He moves back to the fire. Kneels beside me in the dirt.

Just then someone came out of it. "You've finally arrived. It's time for you to play your part as the descendant of the Great Onil. You have to prove your worth as a royalty." The voice spoke up. "You've been granted extraordinary abilities and you'll get your weapon soon. You've been chosen as the one to extinct the Dark Blood Sect. Do well in your mission" And then, I was back at the palace. I didn't understand what the man was talking about. I thought all these only happened in books.

But when the time came for real brutality, they would all be reduced to clinging whelps running from an apex predator when they discovered my bestial rage. No, their pathetic bluster would not do much to counter the power I had unleashed. "Mercenaries," I spit out, looking at Sienna, like a curse through gnashed fangs. The best freelance warmongers and sellswords from throughout the realms. They were raised only to inflict uncontrolled destruction upon anyone who arouses their wrath, so expect no mercy from them."

A life where I wasn't Ivy the politician's wife, but Ivy, the girl who drag-raced on weekends and hung out with the only people my father hated. The Mercer Brothers. The thought of them sent a jolt of electricity down my spine. Dangerous. Wealthy. Criminal. They were my brother’s best friends. They were the kings of the city’s underworld. And they were the ones who told me to run, to find a nice guy, to stay away from the darkness. Well, I listened. I found the nice guy. And he just cut my heart out.

In my last life, I single-handedly wiped out a rival gang, winning great honor for the Family. My mother handed me control of her private arsenal, worth hundreds of millions. Before I could even take inventory, the convent orphan my family had adopted quietly changed the codes, and handed the entire shipment to homeless men in slums controlled by our enemies. Staring down my gun, she crossed herself, her face full of pity. "God tells us to love the world, Alessia. Sitting on all those instruments of murder is a sin. I am only atoning for you." I scoffed, but one second before I pulled the trigger, my childhood friend, the Family's top killer, shot the gun from my hand and denounced me as blo

“Please, please spare me!” The human male screams as his body is slammed against the bark of a tree, miles far from the werehouse, hidden in a darkness, past the dirt roads. The man's hands were barely left with three fingers as Draven showed no mercy in his torture, leaving the human male in agony as he pleaded for mercy. “Who are you people?” He raged, “Tell me.” “Ok, ok please, I’ll talk,” he cries as Draven bobs his hands, reaching for his third finger. “We are mercenaries, human mercenaries working for Silas Carson, the hunter,” he mutters.

" we haven't heard anything about your families and friends , And you have been reported missing for quite sometime ...." Loveth cuts him off quickly " I am an orphan and I happened to be sold to a mercenary by my foster father . So kindly move on to something else. I no longer have business with my past ." Loveth crossed her legs as she waited for the next question even though she knew she had given too much information to the public and right now a part of her solemnly regretted it but it was too late already . " So lastly we hope you will honour our invitation next time ."

He could not help but feel a little angry. Immediately afterward, he said arrogantly, “Ten Thousand Armies is a mercenary organization that has gathered all of the top mercenaries in the world together. Many of our soldiers are soldiers who have served in the special forces in their countries. More than half of Hamed’s soldiers are illiterate. So, how can this possibly be the same thing? The difference between these two is even bigger than the difference between the United States and Zimbabwe!”