Novelas y relatos de Trollhunter

Tonight’s job had been gruesome, one of the worst Ted had had to deal with. Getting information from a rogue wolf about an organized criminal syndicate was a difficult job but as always, Ted was a patient man and his skills for torture were unmatched. It was a quality that made him one of the most respected Hunters in the city. So far he had been able to keep the Don safe from another assassination attempt and while it had been an ugly job, he had tonight and the next few days to forget about the gruesome nature of his job.

Around 3 or four rounds land on the 3 targets. Diana: Alert! Melee attacker on top of you.. Hearing the alert made Trevor turns to a supine position. He aims his rifle one handed on the enemy on top of him, his left reaching for the pistol. The attacker kicks his rifle away and was about to hit him with a large machete. Trevor drops the rifle and closes his eyes A shot rings out from a far as the attacker's blade flies in the air, in shock the attacker turns his head, giving Trevor the chance to double tap the enemy on top of him while the machete drops point first one inch to the right side of his head.

"I wasn't sitting in it because I thought I'd look like a dick sitting at a throne while the rest of you sit at a table. Thank you for proving me right." "Who the hell are you anyways?" Hunter asked. "Oh, did you miss the announcement? I'm Yavo, Monarch of the Trolls." "Aren't trolls supposed to be ugly?" Wokor asked. "You're one to talk, have you looked in the mirror today?" Yavo snorted. "Watch your mouth you grease cretin!" "More racism." I whispered. "Well that settles it. He is quite ugly!" Elion laughed. "On the inside!" "Don't address me you petty termite." Yavo sneered.

Prologue Daniel's POV I went on with my life, not expecting even a tiny bit of happiness to find me, I was just living under the dark side of life. Killing, hunting monsters. No happiness, not even love. Nothing could reach my frozen soul. That is, if I had a soul.

“You are my mate. You are not bait. You are not a weapon anymore.” Shiloh met his gaze without flinching. “I am exactly what I choose to be. Today, that was the hunter who followed the trail and put your rebel in a cell instead of letting him vanish.” Xavier seized on that single word. “Rebel,” he said. “He’s a boy,” Sophie said. “His name is Toren. His mate died at Spring River. Hunters did that. People like us, following orders. He’s angry and grieving, and someone pointed him at me. He’s not the mastermind. He’s the fallout.”

The screen stabilized, the black background fading away to leave two massive, blood-red letters glowing in the center of the terminal: T. S. My nails bit into my palms so hard I broke the skin, the scent of my own blood hitting my nose. Torrent Shadow. The phantom hacker who had vanished from the global underground five years ago. The one who had cracked the Lycan Council's private vaults. The one everyone assumed was a myth, or dead. I was Torrent Shadow. But I wasn't touching a keyboard. "A ghost from the past," Lucien muttered, his eyes narrowing into slits as he stared at the red letters. "The phantom."

My retaliation was a public humiliation in front of the entire university that Gary could not simply ignore. The game of humiliation he had carefully planned had turned into a public judgment of him and his lackeys. It broke the last of his restraint and made him go mad. He dropped the civility and stopped testing the waters. That night, the app posted an unprecedented "Ultimate Hunting" Quest. The title was crimson red. [Ultimate Hunting Quest. Capture Sinead alive and take her to the abandoned classroom building in the north.]

"Charges set! Stand back!" A sharp bang shook the tunnel, followed by the hiss of thermite burning through the metal. I didn't wait for the door to cool. I kicked the smoking center out of its frame, sending the melted plate crashing onto the floor. My squad scrambled through the opening, weapons raised. "Which way, sir?" a soldier shouted, scanning the fork in the passage. I raised my wrist interface and cleared the dust from the HUD. The bio-tracker flickered, struggling against the plating in the walls. Then a faint pulse appeared on the screen, a quarter-mile away and dropping fast toward the lowest deck.

He seats himself on the chair in front of the table and the conversation starts. “We were actually hunting that yokai for some years now… You probably wouldn’t know the term ‘hunting’ here. Or do you?” “No. I do not.” “Okay. I’ll explain it in simple terms. There are three categories under which people or humans in general fall under… The cast, the off-cast and the hunters. Well, only if you’re out of your mind will you take the hunting route. My point being that the cast can interact with spirits, dead people, apparitions if they have not passed into the afterlife and they decide to stick around as a rumour. The off-cast are those idiots who can’t see these apparitions and they decide to us

Kyra grabbed her towel that was hanging on the side and she went straight to the bathroom. Meanwhile, Luke, Cain, and Beatrix face the big screen. They watch the radar footage at the university. Three supernaturals were detected, but one disappeared. After losing three, two were replaced. Cain folded his arms while Luke stuck his both hands in his pants pocket. Beatrix play with her pen as she floated it in the air. “Doppelgänger is the first two, maybe. They were the ones the hunters fought earlier,” said Cain. “Doppelgänger was the one the hunters fought earlier?” Luke asked.