Grim Reaper Sad Novels & Stories

Now he was coming, the thought made her shudder with trepidation. It was rare for there to be any problems with prerogatives, and even in the event that there were, reapers were equipped to deal with them on their own. In the rare cases that problems occurred; it was usually just some soul refusing to move on and deciding to haunt the living. Those cases were called Spector protocols and more often than not, the reapers would just let the soul become ghosts.

She apologized. "It's fine, I understand, all this thing was so sudden," Jordan said while rubbing Liz's hair. After talking we went back to Dilan and put the flowers, we took the moment to pray for his soul. I closed my eyes " Dilan, baby, I miss you, I'm sorry I almost killed myself, I know that you wanted me to be happy, but how am I going to do that? I hope you give me signs, I wanted to see you for the last time" I wiped the tears on my eyes and took a deep breath.

Liam raised his saddened gaze to Saraid’s adamant stare and a small grin adorned his face as he shook his head. “Of that I have no doubt that you would try, but Reaper I fear may be too strong to ignore. He has had a millennium to sharpen his skills and I fear I may just lose you to him. All of us could lose you to him.” Saraid felt a combination of fear and anger. She was afraid of what she felt and how helpless she was when faced with Reaper, but she was angry with Liam for not trusting their relationship enough to believe that she could withstand him. It was after all her thoughts of Liam, Treasa, and the others that brought her back from Purgatory and Reapers hold.

"You killed me years ago, show up out of the blue, Fucking lie to me. Then you kill my fucking mother! Right after Annah died!" "Every pain I've felt was because of you. From the moment you broke me to the moment you lied about loving me and now you killed her." He chuckles through the pain. Tears start to pour out my eyes when I realize what I have to do after I crush him. "I'm sorry." I cry. "Sorry won't fix anything!" "Not for that, for this," I say, taking out the gun I stole earlier. Giovanni's eyes widen when he sees the gun.

she pulls my head back up "I'm-I'm not sad," I tell her surprised by my mind and feelings, "At all," I add "Well you never actually feel pain," she says "That's a condition, Mika. I feel emotional pain, or I was supposed to," My eyebrows furrow, "I saw him," I whispered "You saw him? Saw who?" She asks "Ha-Death I mean," I tell her turning to face her "You saw him?" She questioned as shock crossed her face, "I knew you were special," she whispers

3 minutes remaining "I'm sorry," I said, my voice barely audible, though I knew it was far too late for apologies. "Jeremy, I'm so sorry." My voice cracked with emotion as I realized the full extent of what I had done. There would be no coming back from this, no way to redeem myself in the eyes of the pack or in my own heart. The final seconds ticked away, each one feeling like a knife to my heart. As the counter reached zero, a small beep echoed through my room – a seemingly insignificant sound to mark such a momentous tragedy. I stared at the device, now displaying all zeros, and felt something inside me break. In my quest for revenge, I had destroyed not just my enemies, but everything I

"I carry survival. And I do not know if that makes me strong or broken." Sarah spoke, her voice trembling. "I am afraid to feel joy." The admission pulled the focus away from Jaxon. Sarah's hands twisted the tissue into knots. "My son overdosed two years ago," she continued. "And for the first year, I felt nothing but pain. Everything hurt. Waking up hurt. Breathing hurt. But now, sometimes, I feel okay. I laugh at something. I enjoy my coffee. And then I remember, and I feel guilty, because how can I laugh when he is dead? How can I feel anything good when he will never feel anything again?"

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 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

he calls through clenched and I freeze before sagging in defeat. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Reaper. I’m just frustrated and I took it out on you” I apologize when I realize how rude and bratty I sounded. He sighs, “I know and I get you, but you don’t have to worry about a thing. I won’t let anything bad happen to you, okay?” I don’t answer him. How can I when everything inside me tells me that nothing is going to be okay? That something really bad will happen.