Black Butler Reaper Novels & Stories

Jongin said understandingly, moving forward: “Does it make sense to you?” He stopped as that man showed his fangs into a sharp, devilish smile. “I am Aleister Black, the exterminator of the Ilgara race, who murdered Prince Gerald and his wife, Lorraine.” His smile widened like a mentally disturbed person. And soon he will kill Damontry Elgara to revive the barren land of kingdoms with its hybrid blood. “How long are we going to stay here?” Baekhyun grumbled, wiping both hands over his face.

But one thing that surprised her was a man that stood in front of the Reapers. Serra can't see his face as he was wearing a hooded long black robe. Only the skin on his hands was visible and it was pale white. Behind him, the Reapers stood like waiting for his command. Serra gasped. She felt something strange on him. Something powerful envelopes him, something powerful as life. It was the force she felt when she sees a Reaper, death. But his was far more strong and dark. The hooded man slowly lift his head up and there she saw his eyes. Black as the shadows and deep as the ocean. The man grinned and the Reapers came dashing to her.

Then the door to the warehouse swung open. Decker Kane, the Reaper King, stood at the entrance with his skull mask on and his hand through a person's scalp with his fingers pushing out of their eye sockets. A wet, sucking sound echoed as Decker ripped his hand free, the body crumpling down to the floor. He stepped over it, wiping his gloved fingers on his thigh, leaving dark smears.

Straightening to his full height, the man raised his head, his piercing eyes locking onto Maria. “Miss Maria,” he said, his tone calm yet commanding. Maria returned the nod. “Rowan.” Maria nodded in acknowledgment, recognizing him instantly. This was Rowan Blackthorn, the Shadow Reaper, one of Somerland’s legendary Gods of War. His mere presence radiated an aura of quiet authority, his black combat gear blending seamlessly with the shadows. Before Maria could respond, another figure leaped from the chopper. Unlike Rowan’s smooth descent, she landed with a loud thud, the ground cracking slightly beneath her. Straightening, she adjusted her flame-red gauntlets, her fiery eyes flicking between

She wasn’t looking at me. She was looking past me. At the gate. At the figure standing just inside it. A man. Tall. Still. Dressed in black. Face shadowed by the hood of his jacket. Not moving. Not speaking. Just watching. My blood went cold. Torres reached for his gun. “Boss—” “Don’t,” I said. Because I knew. Before he lifted his head. Before he stepped forward. Before the light hit his face. I knew. Reaper.

It seemed like he wasn't even done with his words. "And another!" He added as his iris glowed red. He fell to his knees in yells that made everyone high confused. Khloe, who felt that his actions were suspicious, walked slowly to him. Thus, on close contact with him, she placed her palm by the side of his neck. She gasped and instantly her iris rolled over. "The reaper!" Khloe alerted that the reaper they thought Aaron banished still existed in Butt's vessel. "He's trying to fight it!" Pete uttered and Maria watched in complete awe.

Their veins were brittle, and their internal organs were being consumed by a cold, lightless rot that mirrored the very scythes they carried. The ground suddenly groaned as a massive obsidian platform descended from the indigo cliffs. Standing at the center was a figure who looked like a dark mirror of my husband. He was taller than the other Reapers: his skin a translucent graphite black that pulsed with a sickly grey fire. This was Malakor: the Reaper King. He held a scythe of pure compressed void that hummed with a frequency so low it made my teeth ache.

Our youngest, little Dante — named after the inferno we had walked through — toddled between us, oblivious to the stakes but sensing the tension. This was the night the compulsion was supposed to activate. The night The Eclipse had promised our children would turn on us and walk willingly into their shadow empire. We had come to end it where it began. Damien stood at my side, the Reaper in full armor — black tactical gear, guns holstered, knives ready. His hand never left the small of my back, possessive even now. “If they come, we finish this,” he said, voice low and lethal. “No mercy.”

The bodies of the two attackers did not feel like ordinary flesh but more akin to puppets. "Who are you people?" Chase roared, his voice filled with fury. The black-clad man coughed blood, a grim smile on his lips. "Who are we? Haha... We're reapers. Everything on you... is ours now!" As he spoke, the man slammed a hand over the wound on his chest. A thumb-sized green talisman materialized, emitting a sharp, piercing hum.

Without uttering a word, he walked towards her, “your leave my daughter alone. I am a powerful man.” The reaper turned around and looked at her dad, “don't you dare lift your hands for my dad.” The reaper turned, looked at her, and, in a deep voice, said, “I’m not here to hurt anyone. “ Four men who appeared out of nowhere, wearing suits, stood at the side of the doorway as a tall guy wearing a black suit, hair neatly combed to the back with the words tattooed death across his neck, stepped in. The reaper went down on one knee, looking downwards, “My lord,” the men in the grey suits went down on one knee and “My lord.” The man wearing a black suit had a twelve-centimeter scar down his face;