Zombie Drone Oc Novels & Stories

Do not release her or feed her unless it is by my orders. I stared at the broken fragments on the ground, not saying another word in defense. With a loud clank, the door was locked shut. As the darkness consumed me, the system's alarm bells rang out in my head. [Host's vitality: 18 hours remaining. Protective shield status: 30% damaged.] [A massive zombie swarm is estimated to arrive in six hours.] I could hear Alison whining on the other side of the metal door, "Let it go, Jeff. Juliet didn't mean to do it, so don't punish her too harshly.

​The low, high-frequency whine began before the dust did. It was a sound I knew down to the marrow of my bones—the predatory, mechanical hum of a Vane Corporation hunter-recon drone. It didn’t rely on a global satellite grid; it was tethered to the local transit towers, processing data via an independent internal logic loop designed specifically to hunt down network anomalies. ​Inside the repair shed, the air seemed to curdle. ​"It's an automated quad-copter," Julian said, his voice dropping into a tense whisper as he froze mid-stroke over the duplicating bed. His eyes darted to the passive scanner screen, which was now flashing an amber warning bar across the metric field.

Dan gripped a machete in his hand, but it was useless against mutated zombies. Just as one of them lunged forward, about to bite through Dan’s neck, I stood on the second-floor balcony, holding a cup of coffee, calmly looking down at the scene below. “Ruth,” I said lightly, “they’re too loud.” From the shadows behind me, Ruth stepped forward and simply glanced down at the yard. “Boom!” In an instant, the zombies were crushed flat against the ground by the overwhelming force of gravity. The sound of bones shattering rang out, and a moment later, they were all reduced to pulp.

While every member of the army was working hard to build their future home, there were two shiny cocoons in the middle of their lot guarded by rats and their little golems. They were Lorne mowers II and Ben Dover II, and as their mothers, were brood mothers too. David needed tanks and attackers to start hunting, and the solution was simple: plated rhinos and blood vultures. Bone vultures would not be as useful as their red cousin, so Upton was spared of the role.

I assured him. “Again, can’t wait.” He sarcastically said, but I could’ve sworn there was a glint of relief in his eyes. “Enough of this gushy talk, tell me, how do you feel?” “Normal.” “Ok, good start. Come smell me.” Max asked, sticking his neck up for me. I took a whiff, sandalwood, but this time I sneezed at the smell. “Perfect. You're cured for the time being. Now let me go find a way to get rid of these urges for the beast, but not the beast’s sister.” Max began walking out mumbling something along the lines of, “can’t live with um, especially when they don’t let you kill the one thing that could ruin our clan.”

I didn't like the feeling it gave me. Then—a faint, mechanical whirring sound. Dorian stiffened. My eyes darted to the grimy window, barely catching the glint of something hovering outside. A drone. My breath hitched as I stared at it. It was small, sleek, and eerily silent, its camera lens reflecting the dim light inside the room. I couldn't believe this people would go to the length they had. Thankfully, Dorian moved fast. He grabbed a knife from his boot and hurled it with lethal precision. The blade sliced through the air and struck the drone’s body, sending it spinning before it crashed to the ground with a sharp crack.

“Already there.” Sparks arced from the west tower as his team cut their own lines; if the enemy wanted to chew on our nerves, they’d get dead cables and a shock for dessert. Ghost’s people used grapnels to haul up the chassis of a heavier drone, ripping its belly open and feeding it grenades until it coughed smoke. “Eyes on ground,” Ghost said. “They’re not just machines.”

“Behind you.” Mae spun and shattered a second drone with violet force. The blast ripped through its core, then jumped to every machine connected to the same signal. Hundreds of drones fell from the sky like dead birds, smashing across streets and rooftops. The paralysis tower flickered. Every frozen body in the city inhaled at once.

What the hell is he— I rewind again, this time slowing the footage. Eldon pauses… looking at something. I scan the tangled mess of trees until I see it. Perfectly camouflaged in the branches, a High Orc grins—too wide—directly up at the drone. Then its gaze drops to Eldon. He freezes, then turns and runs like his life depends on it. Wise decision. He can’t handle that. But… I take a screenshot of the High Orc staring at the lens. They’re clever, yes—but this level of awareness? No. This isn’t normal.