Grim Reaper Stories Novels & Stories

I came here too late. “What year are we in?” I asked the surprised Grim reaper who didn't dare look at my face as I had exposed his identity. “Twenty seventy.” he said. I sighed, “Do you happen to have Kelly Nelson's card?” The grim reaper glanced at me for a moment before focusing on the road, “No but I bet another reaper has it.” I nodded and froze when the grim reaper pulled over in front of a flower shop, “It would be cool to give the living flowers before their death.”

Alex groaned one last time, pumping Amanda full of his cum in her ass, cum leaking out around his shaft. We collapsed tangled, our bodies slick with sweat and cum. I looked out the window admiring the hill view which twinkled with distant party lights, but here, it was spent with perfect bliss.

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.

This second life belongs to someone else. This second life doesn't allow me to spoil it and do anything I want. This second life has a purpose, a meaning and a desire to be much better than the first. But all this undead stuff was making me lose sight of my sanity. I could understand how crazy all of this would have sounded if I had told Katherine everything there was to tell. First off, there was the Death Reaper, who didn't look like the monster illustrated in pictures and movies. He actually seemed friendly and, as Krista called him, a "gorgeous dude", considering that he might be the servant of Hades, the Greek god of the underworld.

Before I even realized it, our fingers had laced together, his grip firm. Oliver's face contorted with rage. He looked ready to snap, ready to unleash the same kind of violence he had used to punish me in our past life. But did it even matter? Before he could explode, the mediator called him outside for questioning. One by one, everyone was interrogated. By the end of it, my innocence was undeniable. The apocalypse was a global catastrophe. Anyone trying to use the zombie virus as a tool would first have to ensure they weren't infected themselves. That alone made it nearly impossible.

Will never know the happiness of what life used to be before the illness. My grandparents would often tell me stories from before and would tell me their love story. I grew up to see both sides of what life was and what the reaping has caused. Many women kill themselves due to the harsh treatment that their mate gives them. Most men have begun to look at women as nothing more than a means to reproduce and a personal housekeeper.

I NEED A GILF FOR CHRISTMAS "Oh, you dirty boy," she cried, "then fuck your GILF, give me all that fat cóck and cûm inside me." "You first, my full-time grandma cûm dûmp," I grunted with a smirk. Clearly, I'd been reading too much erotic stories. "Oh yes, Derek," she moaned, "I'll be your granny slut, your grandma cûm dump and your GILF fûck toy."

NOTE: This story is from my book, STEALING THE LYCAN'S SON. I wanted to include this here for exposure and an addition to my collection of short stories. SO if you have added it in your library and read my book, STEALING THE LYCAN'S SON, PLEASE DO NOT CONTINUE AND PURCHASE. Thank you! . . . . . CAMILLA I giggled as I jumped over a large rock blocking my path, and made my way past the pack border and towards freedom.

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."

He was spacing out with a somber expression. Anderson quietly turned to Suit, waiting for the demon to state his question. “Never mind. I already have my answer. Besides, like you said. It doesn’t matter. She’s already burning in hell anyways. So, shall we begin the next story? I believe you’ve rested enough?” Anderson nodded his head, ignoring the bit about Miss. Agnes burning in hell. He did not exactly care. That story was over. The kids were fine and made something of themselves. No matter what, he would most likely choose the same path. He could not guarantee a different approach would work. Most important, the story was over, and he was moving on.