The night air was crisp, the kind that pricked your skin and made every sound carry further than it should. We moved quietly, shadows blending with the trees at the edge of the property. This was it. The house was unassuming, just like the brief had said. Ordinary. Except for the SynLife drone inside.

"Keep it quiet," I whispered to the others. Our orders were clear: neutralize the drone, get out clean. We didn’t need to know why—just that someone was willing to pay a lot of money to see this thing destroyed. Probably some competitor, or one of those anti-tech groups that thought these machines were replacing people. Didn’t matter to me. Money was money.

The gate lock was simple enough. A few clicks and it would—

"Hurry up," muttered Raj, his voice low but tinged with impatience. He was always like this, rushing into things without thinking them through. I shot him a glare but kept working. The lock finally gave way with a soft clink. The three of us slipped inside, keeping low. The house loomed ahead, dark except for the faint glow from one of the windows. Probably the charging station. That’s where it’d be.

We crept through the small garden, the damp grass muffling our steps. "You sure it’s offline?" Raj whispered. He’d been jumpy since we’d arrived, his hands constantly brushing his pockets as if searching for reassurance.

"Yeah, these things power down when they charge," I lied. Truth was, I didn’t know for sure. But hesitation would only slow us down.

Tim, the youngest of us, nudged my shoulder. "You hear that?" he murmured, glancing around nervously. He’d been skittish the entire way over, and I was starting to regret bringing him along.

"Hear what?" I asked, irritated. Tim shook his head, his wide eyes darting around the garden. I ignored him and focused on the task ahead. We were too close to back out now.

As we neared the back door, something felt… off. The night seemed quieter than it had a moment ago. Too quiet. I signaled for the others to stop. "Hold up," I whispered. "Something’s not right."

"You’re just paranoid," Raj muttered, but he didn’t move any closer.

I bent down to examine the door. It was locked, but not heavily. Raj handed me a set of tools, and I worked quickly, my hands steady despite the tension coiling in my chest. A faint click signaled success. I eased the door open just a crack, peering inside. The faint hum of electronics reached my ears. It had to be in there.

Then it happened. A shadow detached itself from the darkness outside, moving with a speed and precision that made my blood run cold. The drone. It wasn’t offline—far from it. Its eyes, or sensors, or whatever they were, glowed faintly as it stepped forward. The sound of its claws on the stone path was soft but menacing.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

"Shit," I hissed, backing away instinctively. "It’s active!"

Raj froze, his face pale. "What do we do?"

"Stay calm," I said, though my voice shook. "We’ll distract it, circle back, and—"

The drone moved faster than anything I’d ever seen, closing the distance in an instant. Raj swung a crowbar he’d brought along—a useless gesture. The drone ducked effortlessly, its clawed hand lashing out. Raj crumpled to the ground without a sound, the crowbar clattering uselessly beside him.

Tim panicked. "Run!" he screamed, bolting for the gate. I hesitated, torn between chasing after him and helping Raj. The decision was made for me when the drone turned its glowing gaze on me. I stumbled back, my hands raised in surrender. It didn’t care. Its claws swept out, and I went down hard, the air knocked from my lungs.

Tim made it to the gate, fumbling with the latch in his desperation. For a moment, I thought he might actually make it. But the drone moved again, a blur of motion that caught him mid-stride. He screamed as it dragged him back, his feet kicking wildly at the ground.

"Let me go!" Tim yelled, tears streaming down his face. The drone didn’t respond. It dumped him unceremoniously near me and Raj, standing over us like some mechanical god. For a moment, it did nothing, its glowing visor fixed on us. I could hear my heartbeat pounding in my ears, could feel the sweat pouring down my face.

Then the sound of a voice broke the tension.

"What the—"

A man stood in the doorway, his silhouette framed by the dim light from inside. He looked young, barely older than me, but the way he carried himself screamed authority. This had to be the owner.

"Call it off!" I shouted, my voice cracking. "Call it off, or we’re dead!"

He didn’t answer. He just stared, his eyes darting between us and the drone. Then he pulled out his phone, speaking quickly into it. I caught snippets: "trespassers," "police."

The drone didn’t move. It just stood there, blocking the way out, its gaze never leaving us. I’d thought these things were just tools, expensive gadgets with fancy programming. But this… this was something else. Something alive.

The sirens came faster than I expected. Raj groaned, clutching his ribs, while Tim sat curled up, rocking slightly. The others were too beaten down to try running, but I wasn’t ready to give up. Not yet.

I waited until the sirens grew louder, the flashing lights visible through the garden fence. Then I bolted. Pain shot through my side as I ran, but adrenaline kept me moving. I didn’t look back, didn’t stop until I hit the edge of the property. Freedom was so close I could taste it.

A shadow fell across me. Before I could react, something cold and unyielding clamped around my arm. The drone yanked me off my feet, dragging me back toward the house. I kicked and screamed, but it was like fighting a steel wall. It didn’t even slow down.

It dumped me next to Raj and Tim just as the police arrived. Officers emerged cautiously, their hands resting near their holsters. As they approached, their eyes landed on the drone, and their demeanor shifted instantly.

"What the hell is that?" one muttered.

"It’s with me," the man said quickly, stepping forward. "It’s harmless—unless given an order."

Harmless. Yeah, right. I’d seen what it could do. But I wasn’t about to argue. The police cuffed us, their eyes darting nervously toward the machine as they worked. One of the officers kept a hand on his holster, ready to draw at the slightest provocation.

As they dragged us to the waiting cars, I couldn’t help but look back. The drone stood there, its frame silhouetted against the faint glow of the house. Watching. Waiting. Whatever it was doing, I knew one thing for sure: we’d failed and would go to jail synlife would make sure of it. And quietly in the back of the police van i swore to myself that I’d never take a job involving SynLife or their drones again.