The Collectors Novels & Stories

Raven had a long glass telescope clutched in one hand. “It’s not a person!” Raven called out, dropping to the grass, gasping. “My machines are losing their minds. That thing in the sky—it’s a Collector. Something from a place above us. It doesn’t want to eat us. It wants to own us. Like we’re toys.” “What’s the difference?” Dante shouted. He planted his feet and shook his fist at the eye. “Get out of our sky! We’re not for sale!” The eye blinked once. The wind from that blink slammed everyone to the ground like a hurricane.

Cathy says, "but, what is a collector? Or more accurately who is he? Why is he called that?" No one answers at first, each person consumed by the horror of what could happen. Eventually, mother speaks up. "The Collector is... an abomination. No one knows where he comes from but he is dangerous. No one has gone up against him and won." "What does he do?" "He collects... skin. And other... body parts. Internal organs. He doesn't spill blood, all he has to do is touch you and everything will dry up. Then he... he pills your skin or fur and uses it for whatever evil he does."

My jaw tightened hard. "Kora should be the least of your worries right now," Lilith said as though reading my thoughts. "This should be," she said pointing at the collectors mark. "If someone here, in this compound is owing a collector, they would definitely be coming to take what they are owed." "And trust me, you do not want to owe a collector."

Alex felt a familiar knot of tension return. “Who else?” Vale hesitated for the first time. Then he spoke one name. “The Crown Court.” Brody frowned. “That sounds bad.” Mara’s voice lowered. “They’re collectors.” Jake’s jaw tightened. “Collectors of what?” Vale answered simply. “Rare bloodlines.” Alex looked toward Finn and Liam again. Finn was now attempting to teach Liam how to hold a hockey stick properly. Alex felt a surge of protective instinct. “Not happening,” he said flatly.

"That's actually kind of cool. Terrifying, but cool." "More than just a crime lord," Reign continues, scrolling through the information. "According to Landon's sources, The Collector doesn't just deal in artifacts. They harvest them. They find people with rare abilities or bloodlines and... extract what they want. Sometimes the person survives. Sometimes they don't." My stomach turns. "And they might want the curse fragments."

Cathy whispered in my ear; her voice was filled with venom and disdain, snapping me out of my thoughts. I didn’t need to look in that direction. “Congrats, guys.” All of the cheerleaders screamed excitedly. “Let’s go,” I whispered to Cathy, as I had no intention of watching their drama. I already knew the script. I was about to move when I stopped, curiosity seeping into my heart. Zack is not the hero of this win. Then who is Jessica going to latch onto this time? I stepped aside, dragging Cathy with me so that we don’t get bumped by the cheerleaders.

Aldren closed his eyes. When he opened them again, all warmth had vanished. "They've sent the Collectors." Nobody spoke. Because somehow... Even without knowing what a Collector was... Every instinct told me the same thing. If they had come for Blackthorn... They had come for me.

The battle is won, but looking at the silver scars covering my side, I know the war has just begun. "Your Highness!" A guard approaches. "We found something in Margaret's car. Documents. Plans." Byrde takes the papers, his face paling as he reads. "This isn't over. Marcus and Margaret were working for someone else. Someone called 'The Collector.'" "The Collector?" I repeat. "According to this, he collects rare wolves. Wolves with special abilities." He looks at me, fear in his eyes. "And Margaret sent him information about you. About a silver wolf who survived concentrated wolfsbane."

Above them, the hover-trains of the Thorne Foundation hummed with the sound of a thousand servers. Leo used a Vance-Frequency Spike—a device he had built from a broken microwave and a moonstone shard—to bypass the train’s biometric locks. The doors hissed open, revealing a cargo hold filled with "Symmetry-Rations" and medical supplies. But as Leo reached for a crate of oxygen-canisters, the lights in the hold turned blood-red. "Warning," a robotic voice boomed. "Unwanted presence detected. Initiating Debt-Collection Protocol." The Collector The crates didn't just sit there; they opened. From within the cargo emerged a squad of Debt-Collectors—androids built in the likeness of the original Th