Crimson Reaper Novels & Stories

He activated the crimson circle. The giant Blood Mirror above me glowed. A dark red beam pierced my veins. Agony shot through me like a million silver needles. It was pulling out my memories. The Crimson Trial drains a vampire's blood to project their past. It shreds the soul. It feels like burning under the noon sun. It is the cruelest punishment for traitors. I felt the mirror sucking my life away. But I didn't fight it. Instead, I felt a weird, perfect peace.

EVA The youth center smelled like cheap pine cleaner and teenage desperation. I wiped down the last table in the common room, watching Tommy Vega practice tricks with his butterfly knife in the corner. Nineteen years old and already covered in Crimson Reapers ink he had not earned yet. "You are going to cut yourself," I said. "I am good at it." He grinned, all cocky bravado. "Your old man says I might get my patch next month." My old man. Marcus Cross, president of the Crimson Reapers, the man who gave me life and made it a prison.

“I give up, as I am tired.” He pleaded with his shivering hand as he still tries to reach for it and towards the reaper he believes and in presence to take his soul into hell. To the silence and dim-like shadows of the selected parts of the room where the full moon is shining and giving its light as it is reflected through the glass walls. Footsteps echoes as the silhouette of the reaper he claims finally introduces. To the light of the moon and the claim reaper, he calls pave its very image in front of him. His blurry vision from his left-right eye, picture out the distinct purple and crimson mix paired of eyes that somehow is illuminating in that dark and resembling both the cold of the ni

I looked deeply into Crimson's eyes, pools of fiery determination, and found solace in his unwavering support. "But how, Crimson?" I questioned, my voice trembling with a mixture of regret and uncertainty. "How can I right the wrongs I have done? How can I heal the pain I have caused?" Crimson's presence strengthened, his ethereal form growing brighter within my mind. "The path to redemption lies in your actions," he explained, his voice infused with a pearl of wisdom. "Show Shea the depths of your remorse, and let your actions speak louder than any words can convey.”

The usual admiration salute. The Eloesan people on the other hand had witnessed the most fearful experience in their entire life. Which is understandable, because after all, the thing that stood behind me were a big dark miasma, but inside that hazing miasma of light absorbing miasma, was a death reaper, wearing a weathered black hoodie, underneath that seasoned hoodie, were pale skull, with the bluish green fire as eyes and as it opened it’s bonny mouth the dark miasma constantly falling out, and on each of it’s hand, my death reaper were holding one it’s left hand a rose soaked with dripping red bloods, and on the left was the sharpest ever metallic rapier. And the entire parts that were v

Then I grabbed the Ducati keys from the hall table so hard they cut into my palm. I headed toward the elevator with murder in my bloodstream and fire in my lungs. Richard had tried to kill her. Aaron had hidden her from me. But both of them had forgotten one critical thing. One fatal thing. I wasn’t a corporate prince. I wasn’t a politician. I wasn’t civilized. I was a Reaper. And Reapers did not let go of what belonged to them.

“You stole her breath. Now, I take yours.” In a flash, the Reaper closed the distance. One cold hand touched Clark’s chest. Clark gasped. He tried to scream, but no sound came out. His body jerked once—twice—and then fell to the floor, lifeless. Silence. The Reaper turned to me. Blood rushed in my ears, too loud to hear whatever he said—if he said anything at all. My body gave in to the darkness. And I collapsed. Cullen’s POV The man’s body dropped like a stone. Soul ripped. Breath silenced.

Death draws me towards it like we have been attached with an unbreakable string. Maybe it's just a superpower in which I get the last chance to save the person in front of me or maybe it’s a curse. Particularly a Crimson curse, as I like to call it. Through the years the number of deaths I have seen is greater than my age. You would think that death doesn't affect me anymore. You are right to think that because that is what I had thought until 5 days ago.