Grim Reaper Games Novels & Stories

Above each was a screaming banner: RED STREETS RUN MAZE RUN: HARD MODE LAST STAND: SOLO CAPTURE THE CORE PUZZLE GAUNTLET – COOPERATIVE TOWER ASCENT ONE BULLET Under the names, short, enticing blurbs flickered: *High-speed urban chase. Points for takedowns and style.* *Only one exits the maze. All others: ERASED.* *Defend a single point. Survive waves. Crowd votes on boosts or nerfs.* *Crack the code. Save the team.* *One shot. One target. Big payout.* Screens above some stalls replayed highlight reels—fast‑cut footage of previous players sprinting through rusted streets, leaping over barricades, ducking projectiles; silhouettes falling under a hail of fire; someone dangling from a ledge as t

"Firstly, I want to tell you all that I'm grateful for setting me free. Secondly, I as a grim reaper would go back to my post and continue my job. Thirdly, I don't give a fuck of whatever is happening to god" "Grim Reaper, you are not allowed to cuss in the palace " The second Elder reprimanded. "Whatever " She mouthed and turned to leave but suddenly her body was bound with a chain making her unable to leave. "Grim Reaper Rose, This is your mission you are not allowed to reject it. Accepting it guarantees your freedom." The Third Elder dressed in a blue apparel suddenly spoke. His voice was gentle and could make anyone listen to him but unfortunately the person is Rose Blair.

"What a coincidence. We meet again." I stared at her, and something clicked. The car crash. Their car. My "death." It was all too perfect. "Hey, newbies. Need a rundown?" A guy with a seasoned look walked over. "Name's Marcus. A-class player." "Wait." I held up a hand. "Let me get this straight. Are we dead?" Marcus nodded. "Technically, you're in a near-death state. You only get your life back if you clear the game."

The man had finally managed to produce a child and he wanted me to stand in a hall and applaud. "Small man," I said. "Large occasion." Gary said nothing. That was the correct response. My throne had been built on the bodies of my father and my brothers, taken in the year I turned twenty-four, held through five years of war that hadn't fully ended. I had killed more men than I could name. The packs called me The Reaper and stayed out of my borders and prayed their treaties held. The elders said Moon Godness herself had cursed me, no fated mate, no heir, no future beyond the violence I was good at.

a woman dressed as a nun asked. "That's right. You're dead. Your souls were dragged into this death game." Brad shrugged. "But don't lose hope. If you clear the game, you get to live again." The screaming and shouting stopped. All eyes turned to them, filled with a new sense of hope. "To be resurrected, you need to collect 'Redemption Points.' 9,999 of them, to be exact," Jessica continued. "But here's the catch: the points you get are tied to your fear. The more terrified you are, the fewer points you get."

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

Ayira to become a reaper or not I scrunched my mouth and wiggled my cheeks against the hard surface under my face. I blinked my eyes and looked up and my mouth dropped open. I lifted my head and looked down at Grim. God he was beautiful. His black eyelashes were fanned across his high cheekbones. I squinted my eyes. Reapers don't sleep, I remembered. I looked down at his bare chest and swallowed seeing his ink work. Hot damn, he's covered with beautifully done tattoos. I used my index finger to trace one and hear the deep rumble of his laughter building up. I chuckled softly and looked up at his green eyes glowing brightly at me.

"The apocalypse survival game begins now. From this point on, I'll be watching your every move. Everything you do will be visible to me. Everyone must follow the rules of the safe house. "The first rule is that everything in this safe house will be distributed on a set schedule in fixed amounts. No one is allowed to take anything on their own. Second, once the game starts, there's no stopping or backing out. Third—" Before I could finish speaking, a voice from below cut me off. "Screw you. Who do you think you are, giving us orders?" The speaker was one of Tristan's men. I nodded to the burly men beside me, who stood nearly seven feet tall, signaling for them to go down and teach him a lesso

Iris actually throws up, realizing Joey and her stepmother are having sex. “I know, disgusting,” The woman holds Iris’s black hair back and rubs Iris’s back. “Why? Why is this happening?” Iris asks again, screaming and choking on tears. “It’s a little complicated. I’ll tell you what I can. You get three chances to make it right. I am sorry to say I agreed to a game with the god of the Sea. He says his creations are stronger than mine. Daria has already been re-born once. If she fails twice more, I win. So, you get to go back,” the lady tells Iris. “You get three chances. If you can’t defeat Daria and Ingrid, then I lose, and you stay dead.”

he said, and suddenly the air felt strange. Everyone around me started whispering, turning to each other with wide eyes and open mouths. I froze. The Mate Games. I’ve heard stories, like everyone else. Old tales. Fables meant for children. Girls pulled from villages to compete for the hand of a royal heir. Magic and power and fate all tangled into one big, unbelievable mess. But that’s all they were. Stories. Until now. “They say the heir has the rarest kind of wolf,” a woman beside me whispered to her friend. “Unbound. Untouched by bond. Free.”