Goth Reaper Novels & Stories

Let’s talk this out properly. Only for Mira to scream back, "Leave me alone! Unless I get the money today, I’m not moving!" "I’m right, aren’t I, everyone?! "And to those new joining the stream, check the links in the shop below! Don’t miss out!" That’s right. Mira had been livestreaming and selling products every day for the past week. Even if I didn’t pay her so-called emotional damages, she’d already made a fortune. When a reporter asked her to shut the stream down, she slapped the woman across the face. "Stay out of my business! My viewers deserve to see this live. I’m doing this for them!"

I whispered to him as I backed up a little before once again charging toward the river. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ ICW V2 V2" Today our guest is the Grim Reaper! So how does it feel to be labeled as the world's biggest wuss because your too afraid to go near anything blessed by Lexi or Luna or any other god that isn't Exinious or Helder?" GR"... A curse on all of you... death will surround all of you until the war starter is delivered back to the gods to receive judgment." With a cloud of smoke, Grim Reaper disappears. -----------------------------------------------------------------------

I open my eyes, and bring out the Eye of the Reaper, which represents the watchful gaze of Death, symbolizing my ability to see and interact with the realm of the deceased, but nothing happens again. I stifle my frustration, but a scream breaks from me as I chant

I couldn't break free from the harsh clutches of the raging water so I gave into it as the icy coldness of it numbed all of the pain I felt away, and I welcomed the cold hug of death with open arms. If I was reborn. I'll make sure they all burned for what they'd done to me. They'll all pay.

"You dare disrespect the King of Assassins? You deserve death a thousand times over! Your time's up! When you meet the Devil, tell him Reaper sent you." In a flash, Reaper moved with uncanny speed. His explosive power brought him before Gideon in the blink of an eye, and he aimed his dagger at Gideon's throat. "Fuck off," Gideon growled. With one slap, he sent Reaper flying. Reaper crashed into the ground with a thunderous impact. Every bone in his body shattered, and some turned to dust. Then, Gideon mimicked him, saying, "When you meet the Devil, tell him Gideon Snow sent you."

A goon lunged, his blade flashing, but I caught his wrist, snapping it, his scream cut short as I drove my knife into his gut, twisting until he stilled. “Burn it,” I growled, my voice low, my men torching crates of cocaine, flames licking the walls. One of Salazar’s lieutenants, a wiry bastard named Rico, begged on his knees, his hands raised. “Please, Reaper, I didn’t—” I shot him between the eyes, blood pooling, my boots stepping over his corpse. My men flinched, their glances uneasy, but I didn’t care. This was me now—cold, merciless, the devil they’d forgotten.

Reaper Swithin said, blowing his nose and taking in the air. "AAHHHHH! This Moroi blood!" Reaper Swithun Johnson is the guardian of Strigoi Grave Risen Coven. He has ginger hair and blue eyes and always wears a black dress coat with silver buttons. He is tall and lean, with a sharp jawline and a piercing gaze that can make even the bravest of souls tremble. Reaper Swithun is known for his unwavering loyalty to the coven and his fierce protection of its members. After Ace, Reaper is second in command in the coven.

The sound of his boots faded down the hall. I pressed my back against the wall and slid to the floor. My body was still shaking. Not from fear. Or not only from fear. When his teeth had grazed my mark, something inside me had ignited. A heat that started at my neck and poured down through my chest, my stomach, my thighs. My skin had tightened. My breath had caught. And for one terrible, honest second, I had wanted him closer. The Reaper. The man who’d killed his own family. The man who collected territories like other men collected debts.

I had to find something I could do to make money that I could be discrete enough to accomplish without drawing the attention of the massive amount of people I managed to successfully piss off by means of killing the under-lord, Christian. That led to my current livelihood of being an assassin. I started out with nothing more than the knife that killed my mother, Christian’s belt and sheath, and my rags cut, sewed, and repurposed into a disguise to hide my hair and face. I was sloppy in the beginning, and it was a wonder I’d never been caught. As the years passed, I became the most efficient, deadly, mysterious, and untraceable assassin. I entered unseen, killed in silence, and vanished witho

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