Novel & Cerita The Lonely Hunter

He whispered. His knees crashed with impact on the stone floor as he was back in position to try again. Breath in. Breath out. Breath In. Breath out. Scrunching his temples again he concentrated on the longing image of a wolf. A brown wolf. A wolf as brown as Archer his father's majestic brown Gamma wolf. Digging his nails into his clammy palms, instead of the claws he longed for, the crescent wounds drew out crimson liquid that ran down his palms mixing with his perspiration.

“Can you hear them too?” To her knowledge, she was the only one who could hear and see them. Even before Rodyn nodded at her, she realized he could. “He’s the last hunter. Only with him by your side can you vanquish the legion of darkness,” one of the Keepers said. “The last hunter?” Rodyn repeated. “She is the last hunter.”

The one-way mirror should keep me hidden, no matter how large the hole in the wall might be. Even so, every time Antonio seemed to glance in my direction, my imagination ran wild, filling my mind with thoughts I couldn't suppress. It felt like he had thrown himself on me, sending a shiver down my spine. My name was Yvonne Barker. I was a confident and curvaceous woman in the prime of my life, but my husband, Philip Barker, struggled with certain issues and hadn't been able to meet my needs in that regard. Philip, a long-haul truck driver, was often away from home, leaving me feeling lonely and unfulfilled.

Eyes cold as the ice. "I've seen bears throw wolves," the hunter said, looking at Sebastian. "Never seen a man do it." Harper aimed her rifle at him. "Who are you?" The hunter ignored the gun. He pulled a folded piece of paper from his pocket. It was a "Wanted" poster. [ SEBASTIAN STERLING. DEAD OR ALIVE. $100,000,000 ] "Name's Jack," the hunter spat tobacco juice into the snow. "And you folks are the most expensive game I've ever tracked."

Rogue hunters usually worked alone though which was what I had been counting on. The sun dipped lower, the temperature dropping with it. I crouched behind a fallen log, scanning the open field where I’d set my traps. The hours ticked by, but my patience didn’t waver. This was a waiting game, and I had every intention of winning. As the first stars appeared in the darkening sky, a chilling howl echoed in the distance. My heart thudded in my chest, and Dean snarled in response. "It’s coming," he said, and just then, i heard a tree crack.

One day he decided to walk into the woods and no one has ever seen him since. My name is Lucas Harrison. I am considered the best tracker and hunter in the town. Not only animals but also Paranormal beings. All-day and all night, people in our town searched, lighting the way with flashlights and lanterns. Searching with dogs and carrying shotguns. It all seemed like a horror movie waiting to happen.

Hunter knew all too well that every decision comes with its consequences. He made a deal with the Patels' to get rid of Ludo but he didn’t hold his end of the bargain. Despite this, Hunter was no man to be intimidated by the Patels. As a matter of fact, they were out of the picture for him because he had finally got what he sought after; the manuscript. As soon as he got home, he printed the whole manuscript out, took it with him into his carnage backyard and treated himself to some reading. He never remembered when he had read like that but he was determined to finish reading the whole story that very day.

I parked in the back lot of a 24/7 diner, the kind that promised cheap coffee, burnt pie, and bad decisions. “This is where you’ll…?” I asked. Lucien nodded once, features still, controlled. “I do not hunt in crowds,” he said quietly. “I look for those who walk alone. The lonely. The lost. Those who crave forgetting more than they fear the dark.” “Comforting,” I muttered. “In a deeply depressing way.” He met my gaze. “I do not kill them.” I held his eyes. “I know. You said.” “And I told you I would not lie to you,” he said. “If I ever… cross that line—”

I wait for several minutes for Hunter’s return, but he doesn’t show up. I feel abandoned. Lonely. I decide to look for something I can munch on in the cabin, which makes me ransack the room. Turns out it’s Hunter’s cabin. The bed linens bear his sandalwood and leather scent. There are guns and bullets scattered on it, causing a hitch in my breath. I check the mini fridge, and it only has a bottle of water and a leftover sandwich. Seeing that, my stomach grumbles. I reach for the leftover and devour it hurriedly, polishing the plate in under a minute.

Hunter comes back to the living room with a bottle of wine, noodles and canned food his family stored in the basement. Thankfully, his father never forgot the cabin and kept paying the water and electricity bills. Hunter wonders if the late president used to come here when he needed to be alone—or with his mistress. "That's all we got for now," Hunter takes a seat on the gingerbread leather couch. "I guess it's enough to survive the night," "I'm not hungry," Harvey mumbles, resting his head on Eden's shoulder. Hunter frowns at him, "That's what your brain said. I'm sure your empty stomach thinks otherwise," he pushes a can of fruits toward him. "Do you want some noodles?"