Black Reapers Novels & Stories

Yman passed by on Kiko with a smug, before he used his Rapid Leap skill again to lose the trail of the three mini golems. Because of this, the golems suddenly stopped their pursuit. The aggro was gone after Yman left them at a specific distance. The mini golems were looking for the new target. And the one nearest at them was no other than that person with mana coating around his body and currently fighting some of their kind. The golem's eyes suddenly glowed in red as they pounced their massive body towards Kiko. Kiko wanted to cry. Even the spectators watching the scene were dumbfounded. What kind of horror was this? Everyone's thought. Only the random gulping sounds were discernible at the

But before he could complete his sentence, his eyes widened in horror. Dabria had stabbed his dark soul with the dagger of Eve. Dabria pulled the dagger out and stepped away from him. Dark flames engulfed Adrian's dark soul. His horrified screams shook the Karts pack lands. "You forgot again that I am not just a vampire. I am a reaper vampire hybrid. And as a reaper, I can kill you with whatever weapon I possess." Dabria finally answered the question Adrian asked her right before his soul was completely burnt.

Lucas was like a woman under the visit of his great aunt. (a/n: for those who don't know, great aunt was a slang to some novels = monthly period) Lucas stayed. He was probably acting to leave earlier. "Second, look out for grim reapers." Wha..there is really grim reapers! But how can I look out for them? "What do they look like?" "They looked like businessmen. Black suit, black tie, black shoes. In short, they are fond of the color black. What a weird thing is, all of them are holding a black umbrella."

But I pressed my hand against the railing and smiled—a strange, twisted smile. Realizing something was wrong, Brian tried to pull back, but it was too late. The high-voltage current passed through me and struck the control switch of the grate mechanism without missing. The machine roared to life. Clinging to the opening, Brian was dragged in instantly, leaving behind only a twitching hand. “Ahhh—!” A bloodcurdling scream tore through the night. “Hah… hah…” When the machine finally stopped, I curled on the ground, gasping as I waited for the searing pain of the electric shock to fade.

My mates melted into the shadows at the edge of the woods, their eyes gleaming in the darkness as they took up strategic positions. I waited for my cue, listening as Alpha Maxwell's voice carried across the hushed gathering. "Tonight, we witness the return of what was thought lost. Tonight, the goddess rights a wrong seventeen years in the making. Tonight, the last Blackthorne comes home." That was my signal. I stepped from the shelter of the trees into the torchlit clearing, keeping my head high and my steps measured despite the hundreds of eyes watching my approach. The ceremonial grounds were packed with wolves from dozens of packs, all gathered to witness my return.

Slashed deep into the skin beside the dead boy's mouth was a crude, jagged symbol. My throat went entirely dry. A gang did this? "The Black Reapers are ruthless," someone else murmured. "It's insane. I heard their leader actually goes to school here. Riven Rykerthrone." I closed my eyes, the world tilting beneath my feet. I was so incredibly screwed.

I furrowed my brow and shook my head. "No, Nekane. I'm the Reaper Queen and a Death Goddess. I will not run and hide, I will fight and destroy my enemy," I decreed as I called my scythe and felt the black smoke roll across my flesh making a black cloak. I was a kick ass female reaper and Nekane nodded his head doing what I'd done. We were awesome together and I held his hand as we vanished to reap his brother.

I followed Reaper's gaze. Idling at the very edge of the jungle treeline, acting as a heavily armed escort for the weary scavengers behind them, was a pack of about fifty outlaw bikers. They didn't ride sleek hover-tech. They rode massive, ear-splitting combustion choppers, rusted and spiked for wasteland warfare. Even from the top of the wall, I could see the patches on their heavy leather cuts. They bore a single, jagged word stitched in crimson: Revers. At the head of the column sat their leader on a monstrous, elongated chopper. Across his rusted gas tank, a brutal, unforgiving motto had been spray-painted in thick white letters: Blood on the asphalt.

The players eyes widened in terror, as the three figures emerged from the shadows. Medusa stood tall, her hair writhing like snakes, each strand tipped with venomous fangs. Her eyes glowed like embers, piercing through the darkness. A stone-like mask covered her face, except for her full, crimson lips, curved into a wicked smile. The Reaper loomed beside her, his presence like a shadow cast over the land. His eyes were empty sockets, his skin gray and decaying. A black hood covered his face, and his tattered cloak billowed behind him. His blood streaked soulcutter was held firmly to his chest as though passing a silent warning.

The morning air was thick with the scent of ozone and wet earth. The machines below the mountain were quiet, but the air above was screaming. High in the clouds, the steady thrum-thrum-thrum of heavy engines returned. This wasn't the sound of Julian’s helicopters or the Council’s polite shuttles. These were the "Reapers," black, silent warships that the Council used only when they wanted to erase a city from the map.