Grim Reaper Holding Hourglass Novels & Stories

How could I stop my mind from constantly wondering who the hell that male was in the trunk that night? I stare at the large grim reaper on his back, there is an hourglass in his hands instead of the usual scythe. Time was more a weapon than that was and they wanted their enemies to know when their time was up. Something like that. There are rumors of them carving an hourglass into the flesh of their enemies and I want to believe its just a myth.

Since she wanted to try something, she toom it as a chance. Could it be possible for grim reapers to knock? She did heard that her kind can touch something when the clock strikes at three in the morning because that is where they get their bodies... or soul, be active. A small smile crept on her lips for the first time after two decades. To her surprise, Shane opened the door. "I see, it's you," She said. "Your time is up, Shane Hoseinzade. You lived wonderfully," She slashed her scythe on his neck but to her surprise, the scythe went through Shane and wasn't able to harm him.

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

the one who is chasing her was almost close to her! “PLEASE!, HELP ME GRIM REAPER!!!!”. I plead, I plead to the Grim Reaper to help the Grim Reaper just stared at where Me Ann was “PLEASE!! HHWWUUAAA!!!” my tears are dripping and begging GRIM REAPER to save Me Ann “PLEASE!!! HELP ME!!!!” “is that... a zombie... so that’s how it is”- Grim Reaper “HELP ME!!! PLEASE!!!” He only looks at me intently, then suddenly he lifts his crescent scythe and stabs me with it!

Our youngest, little Dante — named after the inferno we had walked through — toddled between us, oblivious to the stakes but sensing the tension. This was the night the compulsion was supposed to activate. The night The Eclipse had promised our children would turn on us and walk willingly into their shadow empire. We had come to end it where it began. Damien stood at my side, the Reaper in full armor — black tactical gear, guns holstered, knives ready. His hand never left the small of my back, possessive even now. “If they come, we finish this,” he said, voice low and lethal. “No mercy.”

I close my eyes and fall into a variation of my usual nightmare. It’s quiet, too quiet. The only sounds are the soft patters of mouse paws skirting across wooden floorboards. I’m in the old slave holding cell from my childhood but I am, as I am now, an adult. I’m in my assassin outfit. There are slaves all around me, but they are frozen in time. Their mouths are agape as if they are afraid and their eyes are empty as if they’ve lost the will to live. Their forms are distorted into odd postures, some with their legs bent over their heads or an arm bent backwards against the joint and up. They don’t have hair or distinguishable faces, and they all wear the same rags I remember from my childhoo

It really is a terrifying—tall and skinny reaper without a face. Its scythe almost got Hessuel. Looking up in the direction of the blizzard, "Tackle with the wind!" I said. The second he maintains a stance on the ground, I blow in the air to change its direction, where Hessuel is facing. So when he jumps, the wind is to his advantage and he catches the reaper to the ground with his claws, biting its scruff. "Hold it!" I ran to snatch its scythe while it's trapped, however, the scythe passed through my hand and I consequently stumbled!

I’m sitting in my dungeon, deep below the pack house, my hand clutching my glass of bourbon with an astonished grin on my face. Standing before me, eyes narrowed with a very pissed off look is a Reaper. Gabriel stands off to the side, leaning against the wall. The Reaper surprises me. His features look human enough, but unnaturally beautiful. He’s tall and lanky and has stark white hair with pale skin. His livid amethyst eyes burn a hole into my head. What gives him away is that he is constantly phasing in and out of existence as he fights against whatever enchantment Gabriel placed on him. Taking a sip from my drink I swirl it around on my tongue, casting my gaze to Gabriel, “How did you do

Her skin glowed with marks he’d never seen before — swirling sigils blooming across her collarbones, arms, throat. The **crown** no longer sat on the pedestal. It circled her head in flame. And beneath her— The Reaper *burned*. Screaming. Writhing. Her illusion cracked open like an egg, revealing the withered, bone-bound vessel beneath. But even as her body failed— She smiled. --- **\[Reaper’s Final Moment]** “You think this power will save you?” she rasped, voice raw. “This crown is a cage. It will hollow you, too.”

But before she could think further, a heavy dark smoke appeared in front of her out of no where unexpectedly. This stunned her, as she glanced at the smoke and gasped. She couldn't say anything, cause she was shocked. She only saw the heavy dark smoke, forming and suddenly metamorphing into something like a dry skeleton, in a long dark robe, holding a long scythe. Anita couldn't comprehend what that was, but she was too distressed to care or freak out. " Rrrhhh." A dry breath flowed out from the smoky figure, who was a grim reaper. With it long robe and scythe, it moved closer to Anita, aiming to take away the rest of her soul...