Goth Reaper Novels & Stories

Wyatt takes a step towards Grace and she takes a step back and he nods, accepting she is scared now. “Don’t you fucking knock?” I ask in anger and Wyatt shrugs his shoulder as Jagger looks at me, offering a small smile. He knew this conversation was going to happen, and he didn’t want me to lie to Grace. He remembers the conversation we had. He came to my rescue just like a good brother does. I can’t even be mad at them, just barging into my house like this. Because they have my back. “Let me introduce myself. I am the Reaper,” Wyatt says, and Grace’s eyes almost pop out of their sockets at how wide her eyes are. I know she’s heard his name before because I’ve seen her reading the news and t

," River said, patience filled in his voice. I nodded as I thought critically. River sat there patiently waiting for me to decide, so they could give me a new life immediately. I sighed deeply. I was determined to use this rebirth as an opportunity to seek revenge on those who had wronged me. And with River's support, I felt more confident than ever that justice would be served. I knew the reason I was given a second chance was to avenge my death and that of my parents who were brutally killed by the ungrateful Constance and her now-husband. As I thought about my revenge, the answer to River's question clicked in. "I want to be known as Elara," I finally said, my voice steady and determined.

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.”

“You need a spear to kill a woman?” A Reaper stopped and stared at her, its lifeless eyes boring into hers. She didn’t know if it understood anything she was saying, but it slowly grinned and tossed its spear onto the ground. “That's it,” she whispered. “You want to take me on?” It stepped over Gabriel and raised its arms into a fighting stance. Focused on Aurora, it did not see Gabriel slowly reaching for the dagger concealed beneath the snow. As the Reaper took its final step, Gabriel rose up and buried the weapon deep into its back. It fell forward and black blood oozed out across the snow.

He shrugged casually. "Only real reapers can drink it, have you ever seen a collection card," he asked curiously and I nodded and told him I could read it too. Grim told me to follow him as he rushed through his home. We were going deep into the bowels of his home when we stopped in front of a metal door. "There are several tests beyond this door that will test if you're a reaper, I will join you to keep you safe," he told me softly and brushed my cheek as he opened the door. The distinct smell of decaying flesh struck my senses and I looked around for the source.

It struck the ground a dozen feet in front of them. Where the beam hit, the scrubby grass, the tough little weeds, the hardy insects, everything simply… turned grey. Not dead. It was still standing, but all color, all vitality, was instantly leeched from it. It became a perfect, static sculpture of its former self, frozen in a moment of absolute apathy. A Reaper. That's what the Overseer had written. Deploy Reapers to sanitize the sector. Their weapon didn't kill. It preserved in a state of non-life. It was the ultimate expression of the Grey Sorrow's philosophy.

She stirred but didn’t wake. I went into the garage and pressed the hidden switch near the wall, and a section of the floor slid aside, revealing the stairwell to the hideout below. My old colors were there, a black leather jacket with the reaper’s emblem stitched on the back, and I pulled them on piece by piece with the boots, the gloves and the cut. The man staring back at me in the mirror wasn’t the man Serena kissed goodnight; he was the Reaper of the Hellfangs MC, and tonight, he had work to do.

“Breathe on my Dora, and you’ll be walking with a limp for the rest of your life. I’ll make sure of it. You’ve seen what happens to people who cross me. I’ll unleash a hell-storm that’ll make your life a living nightmare. I’ll make you sleep with the fishes, six feet under, and no one will ever find your body. You’ll be trapped in your own personal hell, reliving the worst moments of your life on repeat. Your life would shatter, you’ll be left a shell of a man, begging for the sweet release of oblivion, and I’ll be the one controlling the remote… don’t even do as little as winking at her, because that would cost you your sight.” Umbra chuckles, at the other side of the room, as if everything

When Celeste saw the fury in his face, she immediately shifted into victim mode. Her expression became wounded and confused. "Marcus, what's wrong with you? Are you still angry at me? I know you're upset about Aria, but that's not my fault." She reached out to touch his arm, but he pulled away like she had burned him. "I'm asking you a direct question," he said, his voice deadly calm. He pointed at specific drug names on the medical reports. "These immunosuppressants - Lupus Bane, Moonlight Poison, Silver Root extract. Did you take them before your medical examinations?"

He's practically the devil,' I said to myself, knowing that I was trapped there forever. 'Goddess, what kind of life is this that you've planned for me?' I pleaded with her. The skies outside started to darken and thunder rumbled in the distance. It wasn't coincidental, it was symbolic. "How ironic. Thunder, lighting and heavy rainfall rolls right about when the Night Reaper loses his temper and attacks one of his own men. He has never and will never know what it means to be human. Cassian Grant is nothing else but the Night Reaper. A ruthless and murderous Alpha who lost his humanity ages ago."