Infamous Reapers Novels & Stories

he said, voice low, filled with something that sounded like sorrow—and rage. Light exploded around us and the tomb trembled as if the world itself recoiled and as darkness swallowed me, I heard it, his heartbeat, steady and ancient, thudding in perfect time with mine. That was the night the Reaper woke.

The higher the score the higher your standing in the order of choosing. The women went through examinations to determine what if any faults they had. Whether it was illness, promiscuity, or even low intellect all of these were to be listed when the woman was placed up for reaping. Virgins were the most wanted since there haven't been any in the reaping for the last twenty years. Most women chose to give themselves to someone of their choosing before the reaping so that they at least got to control who they shared that with. The rights of the women were stripped when it came to the reaping, so most took the only control that they could get and gave away the one thing that they had to the pers

he murmurs. Rolling my eyes I cross my arms leaning back in my chair, “care to share with the class?” He presses his palms together and asks, “son, have you ever heard of the Reapers?” I frown, “No. What is a Reaper?” He leans over, “so when you die, the Reaper is the one who severs your bond from this world that lets you move onto the next. For us back to the Moon Goddess. They are curious beings and only those who have seen traumatic death can see them. I’m sure there is one in our pack right now, waiting for someone to die. They are nearly untraceable and hold no allegiances to anyone but their task. Sever the bond, let the soul move on.”

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

“Okay, well, what I was telling you earlier about the Reapers is all true. They are essentially demons commanded by Azrael. They have a role to play in society, to gather the souls of the dead when their time has come, but unfortunately, not all of them abide by the rules they’ve been given anymore. Some of them… take people they aren’t supposed to, unmarked souls.” Ru nodded her head, listening, understanding, but not believing. “That sounds like it could be a problem.” “It is a problem,” he agreed, “and it has been since the very first murder—when Cain slew Abel.” “So Cain was a Reaper?” “No, of course not,” Cutter replied, as if the comment was ridiculous. “But he was influenced by one. A

"The stories we prepared about Lyra — the infidelity, the seduction, the bastard child. Those are already circulating through the pack. Every servant, every guard, every elder has heard the same version." Serena's crying slowed. She wiped her nose with the back of her hand. "Soon," I said, "every person the Reaper's men speak to will confirm it. And when that tyrant discovers the kind of woman he's marked..." I let the smile come. "He'll do our work for us." I straightened my coat and picked up a bottle of aged whiskey from the cabinet. I had to strike first. Fucking Reaper bastard. My jaw tightened, my fingers pressing into the glass. He'd ruined everything—the naming ceremony I'd spent so

Seraphina asked him, her voice dripping with false sympathy as she looped her arm through his. She glanced at me, her smile sharpening, she was enjoying this. "Poor Aurora here is taking my place tomorrow. She's to be wed to that filthy Moon Reaper. Rumors are that he's as ugly as that painting we threw out yesterday." The words hung in the air like a death sentence. Moon Reaper—the ancient enemy, a family of ruthless hunters bred for one purpose: killing werewolves like us. Legends whispered of their silver blades, their empires built on the bones of our kind. They were monsters in human form, trained from birth to hate us, to destroy our souls under the full moon.

"Sorry about that, Mr. Hale. I was just handling some business and got delayed." Barnaby quickly stood up. "No problem at all, Mr. Parrish. You're a busy man with countless matters to handle, and I understand that completely." Mateo looked like nothing more than an ordinary old man. However, Barnaby dared not show even a trace of disrespect. One, because anyone serving at the gates of such a clan already held serious weight, and two, because this unassuming man was known as the Reaper, the Cunningham family's number one executioner.

Reaper's the big black guy isn't he? Clara smiled. "You guessed it. Doesn't surprise you, does it? Reaper got brought over about eight years ago. He was in special forces in the army, but one of those sub-organizations that doesn't technically or legally exist. He's the best sniper that I've ever seen, and he's scary and dangerous. He's a real bonus to Shane, and he's the loyal sort. Get on his good side, and you've got a very lethal friend for life. Cross him --" "I think I get the idea," Shamira said.