The Predator Novels & Stories

Aloha trembled as she asked, "What do you want from me? I'm just an ordinary human." Ragnar's lips grazed her ear as he spoke in a deadly whisper. "Are you sure you are an ordinary human? Because you are mine now. I am your tormentor, your worst nightmare. You will tremble when you see me, yet you won't be able to do without me. You are prey, and I am the predator." His words sent chills down her spine. The meaning of prey and predator resonated in her ears, and she wished she could search for their meaning on the internet. But she couldn't; she was trapped and vulnerable.

Not because I was afraid. But because I was sharpening. Because I had made a decision. He would not get my love. He would not get my surrender. But he would get something else. He would get exactly what he deserved. And when that day came—when his guard slipped, when the pattern broke, when the rhythm cracked—I would be ready. He would never see it coming. Because predators, for all their cunning, always forget one thing: Caged things don’t stay caged forever. They learn. They wait. And when they strike? They strike to kill.

“They’re everywhere.” “Yes,” I replied. “And nowhere officially.” He frowned at that. “So what do we do with that?” “We wait,” I said. “We wait and just you watch little brother. I promise, they’ll reach out soon. They always do.” He looked at me sharply. “You’re sure?” “They always do,” I repeated. “When predators sense another predator, they try to identify it. Sometimes they try to buy it. Sometimes they try to kill it. Either way, they reveal themselves.”

Alexander grinned in return as, finally, they arrived on the same page. "Yes, Mell. It means he has his own written program that he can use to access secret information without getting tracked. And that, my friend, is your next job. Destroy that almighty program of his. Now, I suggest you start tracking it before he thinks of creating a program to block your script-" Alexander said but Mell paid him no mind as he immediately moved to grab his laptop and started to trace Ash program. But, before his program could finish processing his request, his laptop switched to a black screen of death with a very familiar voice looming in. "To the Black Clan,

He whispered angrily and threw a fist on the bed. He got up from the bed and decided to brush his teeth and take his bath. By the time he was done, the dreaded headaches had stopped, he vision was clear enough and he was all freshened up. He put on some work clothes and left for the kitchen. As he approached, he could hear noises in his kitchen, he paused, waited and listened to confirm his suspicions. He could hear footsteps and the clashing of his plates and other kitchen utensils, he decided that somehow a thief had managed to visit him. Immediately he grabbed his gun from the holster on his jean and cocked it. He began to tiptoe towards the kitchen; trying to make sure the thief would be

"You were the predator," Pim retorted, finally pivoting in her chair, her face a mask of cold, exhausted fury. "But you were the predator inside a fenced enclosure. Every kill you made, every enemy you dismantled, was just protein for Mother’s political growth. You fed the beast, and now it’s grown large enough to swallow the entire city."

He was a predator, toying with his prey, delighting in the power he held over our lives. The place seemed to hold its breath, enveloped in an eerie silence that amplified the tension. The air was thick with anticipation, as if time itself had slowed down to witness the unfolding drama. My eyes darted back and forth between Clyde's menacing stance and Carmine's predatory smirk, unsure of what would happen next.

But my gaze was drawn to the boy in the middle; I squinted because he looked familiar, but I couldn't place from where. He was dark, that was clear. The cafeteria fell silent; everyone couldn't take their eyes off those three strange guys. They reached the empty table, the one Karina had mentioned, and sat down. There was a blond guy and another redhead. The one who seemed like the leader had black hair; his face was so clean and... refined that I couldn't help but feel a bit intimidated and intrigued. "Who are they?" Alessa whispered. "They must be new," Karina replied. "I think I heard the principal talking about it this morning."

Azriel’s eyes snapped open, locking onto a pair of glowing, predatory eyes in the darkness beyond the window. Lupari. Shape-shifters sworn against his kind, wolves in form but cunning in mind. He had encountered them before, and he knew their reputation—they were swift, relentless hunters, and tonight, they were bold. Without hesitation, Azriel flung open the carriage door. His body hit the ground with feline grace, fangs bared, muscles coiled and ready. The Lupari surged toward him, snarling, teeth gleaming in the moonlight. Azriel’s hearing caught every sound: the snapping underbrush, the distant rustle of a predator circling, the uneven breath of the horses behind him. Each noise told a s

The same photo I'd received before, the one I'd shrugged off as someone messing with me. But this time it feels different. Just then, a new message slides in. [THAT IS WHAT THE PREDATOR LOOKS LIKE WHEN HE GOES HUNTING. DO YOU THINK YOU’RE SAFE FROM HIM?]