Infamous Reapers Novels & Stories

I am Rey Reed Smith, the last of the reaper's hunters and the wielder of the soul nectar. Taking another deep breath, I quickened my pace as the noise of those stupid crowds grew more intense. It was the same sound I'd grown accustomed to; it meant one of their most vicious and important players was about to slay his victims. My plan is simple. I will just brag into the arena ground, slaughter their players, rescue my team, kill the bastard, Ryan, and find my way out. I knew that with my newfound power, I was invisible to any weapons they were welding and that none of their players, not even Ryan, were a match for my abilities now.

a rogue faction of the original tribe who had rejected the resonance ten thousand years ago to embrace the vacuum of the deep reach. The Reapers were a terrifying inversion of the Silver Crest evolution. Their skin was a dull, matte black that seemed to suck the light out of the binary suns, and their eyes were pits of absolute white, devoid of the gold ring of the healer or the silver flash of the king. They didn't carry staves of light; they carried "Abyssal Scythes," jagged weapons of void-steel that hummed with a frequency designed to drain the resonance from any living thing. "The harvest is here," the lead Reaper hissed, his voice a discordant harmony that vibrated painfully in our mar

Sitting on a leather sofa was a man who was shirtless, his massive chest and stomach covered in hard, rippling muscle and dark, intricate tattoos. My stomach did a somersault. It was Horace. The Ice Reaper. The Captain of the Ravagers Wolves and Harold’s most hated rival. He was undeniably beautiful in a way that felt dangerous, like a storm that could swallow you whole. He thought I was the stripper he had ordered. "Step closer," he commanded.

“When you took Stefan from me the pain was unbearable, but I understand it was an accident and even though this is very hard for me to say, I forgive you. And on behalf of my sisters, we all appreciate your help in trying to defeat these things.” Tears welled in her eyes and Harrison stared, his eyes full of wonder. “He forgives you. Don’t you Gabe?” Gabriel rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Nice to see some things don’t change.” “Gabriel, you said you had information for us,” Aurora interrupted, not liking the way Harrison was gazing at her sister. “Please, tell us what you’ve found.” He leaned in and stared at them closely. “In forty-eight hours, the Reapers will rise.”

Sapphire went stiff in my arms as her eyes flicked to the door. I didn’t let go. Rather, I leaned in again, slower this time, brushing my mouth over hers one last time like a threat. “Go ahead,” I whispered. “Scream now, stepmother. Let them hear how much you want your fucking stepson.”

"Why are you here, by the way?" "No reason. I never thought that you were a married woman. I thought you were single because I saw you yesterday, such a very unattractive lady you are in the midst of the bursting city of Mephistopholis where there are a lot of sins being committed left and right." She looked at him like a weirdo but he shrugged his shoulders. "Believe me, you're one of the few people who have a pure soul out there." "Okay, you're creeping me out a little bit," Naera said with an awkward stare at him. As much as she doesn't want to offend this man in front of him, she just needs to be honest. Daemon just smiled and stood up, putting his hand in his pockets.

Inside were the documented slaughters and syndicates tied to the Grim Reaper over the last three years. "Even the big three lords of the underworld—the Reaper, the Zmeya Empire, and the Crimson Syndicate—don't get this much attention on themselves," the chief stated, his finger slamming onto the gory crime scene photos. "No one knows who the leader of Zmeya is. No one has ever seen the face of the Crimson Syndicate's head. But everyone knows Riven Rykerthrone is the leader of the Black Reapers, and the fact that he is still walking around freely is an absolute insult to this badge." I stared at the files, my heart hammering against my ribs.

The man grabbed the remote and turned on the TV, and a reporter’s voice filled the room. “…breaking news tonight. Sources confirm that prominent attorney Myles Voss is not the man he has claimed to be. Investigators allege that Voss is, in fact, the infamous ‘Reaper,’ leader of the outlaw motorcycle club Hellfangs. Federal agents have launched a manhunt following a deadly fire at a warehouse earlier this evening…” The screen cut to footage around my property. Agents and police swarmed over my lawn, and then came a still photo of Serena, smiling in a summer dress.

Drawing a smile behind the façade of her excited and jumping soul, it slowly opens, as the death reapers appear, and immediately greet her. “Yo!” Wearing a smile that does not mean gladness, but more on a paid mission and necessary steps that he should take. The reaper that appears in front of her, who wears unusual clothes, yet rings the very world that reflected unto the original, and just like this world where she exists is playing the same game that no one of them could ever escape from but holds the difference and uncanny ways than theirs. He wears a mask that somehow imitates a mummy, yet not and the scythe that shines with its material that is made from gold, silver, gems, and bronze.

Krim's words were soft as if they weren't exactly meant for her. He must have known her next question because he gave a bone-weary sigh. "Once they start to remember their life, they get to relive their death and all the regrets that came with it. It's an endless cycle that drives them insane." Holly put a hand over her mouth. "They can't break free?" "I've never seen a reaper break free," Krim closed his eyes. "And believe it or not, I've seen many reapers come through. Please, don't ask any more about that. I can't risk remembering, please understand."