Novel & Cerita Ghostly Reaper

"They’re coordinated. The Russians have provided satellite overwatch. They know exactly where we are." We burst into the hallway. The air was thick with the smell of cordite and blood. I saw the first of the Reapers—men who had been twisted by a raw, unstable version of the Rose. Their skin was grey, their eyes weeping a dark, viscous fluid. They didn't feel pain. They didn't feel fear. They only knew the hunger for the Catalyst.

They feed on human souls and flesh. Serra never saw one but they said the monster has scarlet glowing eyes, long and sharp razor-like talons, long black slithered body with black smoke coming out. The Reapers cannot be killed or even wounded by any weapons forged on earth. They are dimensional creatures and only those who draw power from other dimension can kill them, the Inkurs. The image of the monster gives shiver to her skins. She will never wish to meet one.

Reaper yelled, fumbling for the darts. Too late. Rabbit launched himself at Reaper, teeth sinking into the meat of his forearm. Reaper bellowed, tried to shake him off, but two more were already up, moving wrong, too fast, too strong. Ghost fired a dart into one’s neck; the man didn’t even flinch, just turned and charged. I saw the shiv in his hand, a jagged piece of bedframe, and I reacted on instinct. My rifle coughed twice, it's was a center mass.

“Because if Rhett had seen you put a hand on her, you’d already be in the ground. So get up. Get out. And don’t ever come back.” The boy scrambled to his feet, blood dripping, eyes wild. He stumbled toward the door, clutching at his ribs. No one moved to stop him. No one spoke. Because when the Reaper claimed someone, it was final. ________________ Emily stood pressed against the wall, shaking, her wide eyes fixed on the torn cut at her feet. Ghost turned, his pale stare softening as it met hers. “You’re safe here,” he said quietly, gravel deep but steady. “Don’t ever doubt it.”

If anything, he showed them—just slightly, just enough to remind you what he was. He caught my gaze. Smirked. It was small. Sharp. Lethal. I looked away first. “Next to him,” Loralie whispered, “with the silver eyes and that whole ‘I’ve seen your death’ vibe? Silas Grimm. His family runs the reaper line. Literal emissaries of death. Half-reaper, half-shadow. No one knows his age. Death incarnate in a hoodie. Don't touch him unless you're into soul dismemberment.”

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.

Its presence was bone-chilling, yet inescapable, like the pull of the grave. “Who…who are you?” Victor’s voice trembled, his eyes wide, his skin prickling with dread as sweat poured down his forehead. The figure’s hollow gaze met his, and a low, chilling voice echoed in the room. “I am the Reaper, Victor. I’ve come to take you where you belong.”

Dark, shadowy figures haunted my dreams, their laughter echoing as I walked down the aisle toward an abyss, not a man. As I reached the bottom step, my gaze was drawn to the garden outside. Through the massive glass windows, I saw him—The Reaper. He had just arrived yesterday, his presence unnerving as always. He stood in the garden, his posture relaxed yet predatory, like a wolf among sheep. Beside him was Victor, speaking animatedly as he handed over a briefcase. My heart stopped.

Sweat trickles from my forehead down to my neck, my eyes turn dry when I open them so widely as I watch the horrifying figure walk towards us. I grab Daniella’s arm and pull her close, nervously I whisper in her ear——expressionless skeletal face, long hooded cloak, gigantic scythe, “I-isn’t that the Grim Reaper!?” “Um-hmm.” calmly Daniella nods, it seems like she has some ideas about this figure too. Everybody knows who a Grim Reaper is, if someone doesn’t know about him, he collects souls! He is a personified force of death!

I leaned forward. Ghost. The Reaper himself. He stepped out, casual as hell. Hat low. Hands in pockets. Walked right up to the house and rang the bell. He moved like the wind. Quiet. Smooth. That bastard never made a sound. He walked right up to the front door. “She’s gonna let him in,” I muttered. “Shit,” Scarface grinned. “You wanna tag the damn reaper?” Franco’s daughter let him in. I grabbed the tracker, popped the door, and slid low. “You distract. I stick it.”