Today's Hunter Book Novels & Stories

said Cael. “There is just a misunderstanding ...” the man said. The hunters did not speak, but the man admitted to the three. “I’m the one who kills.” It says. His companions listened to him. “I meant killing.” “Stop it..” the woman said. “I’m curious about who the hunters are and what they can do ...” he said. ‘What are you doing?’ ‘Let me do this. It is our chance to kill the meddler. ‘ ‘Are you crazy?’

I know you heard me. 'Yes, I heard it.' I said to him. 'I am now reading the book I got from the restricted section of the library. There is something about this book, titled The 12 Sinners: The Demon's Souls. I think there is something here we can use to defeat them. Who knows, I will start here. Just enjoy them first, dude.' I heard Hunter's voice in my head. He is talking to me. I nodded my head even though he couldn't see me.

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.

"It’s a trick! They want you weak so they can finish us!" The hunters didn't wait for my answer. They were machines of bone and steel, their eyes glowing with a cold, violet light. The man in the black mask pointed a heavy silver cannon at us. "Kill the mother! Capture the seed!" he roared. A blast of violet energy tore through the air. I dived to the left, pulling Leo against my chest. The beam hit a glass bookshelf, sending a rain of sharp crystal shards across the floor. Rowan lunged at the nearest hunter, his claws tearing through its metal neck, but three more took its place. They were fast, moving with a mechanical precision that made my heart race.

The hunter scent is stronger now, closing in from different sides. Alright. It's been a while since I tasted a bit of blood. I'll start with these hunters now. Vote and comment for the next chapter..

Now she understands why the poor girl was so traumatized, why she continued ranting about a threat that could reach even the depths of the earth. How did she not realize it sooner? That this man, this Hunter, is the very danger the girl spoke of; the shadow lurking in the forest. “You said you were FBI,” she manages to mutter, and Hunter clicks his tongue. How I love it when he does that. “How naïve.” He huffs. “This is the twenty-first century, granny. People lie.” Tell them, my boy. Maybe then they can start spitting out why they’re still webbed onto the past like it’s their source of breath.

Hunter said to Joel and Edgar. Joel stopped drinking his ice Americano and he looked at Hunter together with Edgar. “He wanted to be what?” Joel asked Edgar. “A writer,” Edgar answered. Hunter nodded his head. “That’s right. When I was a young pub and my father took me to hunt in the woods, my dream to write my adventure started. I wanted to make a children's book.” Joel and Edgar looked at each other. Well, a childish man like Hunter might be perfect for a children's book. That’s what they thought.

On the pink home page, all the other women's photos had disappeared. Only my photo remained, hanging alone in the center, locked onto by a huge, bloody red "Hunting" icon. Below it was a new line in bold black text. [Exclusive Hunting Mode activated.] The target of the new Quest was simple and crude. [At the public lecture three days from now, get Sinead soaked in front of everyone.] [Quest Reward, two thousand dollars.] The words "soaked" had been written in red, loaded with insult and innuendo.

He unlocked the gun case and gestured inside. “Pick. Ladies first, gentlemen.” A shiver ran down my spine as his husky voice washed over me. I grabbed a rifle, not even caring which one it was in my hurry to get away from the tantalizing scent the man wore. I deposited my bag inside of the gun safe and walked out of the hall. I was determined to put as much distance between me and them as I could. We normally hunted in groups, but my father had taught me well enough that I could take down a deer by myself. Getting it back to town, on the other hand, would require the men. Fuck.

They’ll want to check the wreckage to confirm I’m not inside. Keeping low to the ground, I hurried away from the crash as the hunters pulled up, hooting and hollering like the demented Americans they are. Now I don’t mean to say all Americans are demented. But the American hunters are an uncouth sort that takes a weird joy in killing, things being on fire, and vehicles getting into accidents. Whatever the case, their joyful hoots and hollers that I might be dead and arguments about who gets to take credit gave me time to get away. I hurried to the nearest neighborhood to search for a car to take.