Kaneki Black Reaper Novels & Stories

Taken couldn't stand to be near normal people without killing them, so if one of us was safe, we all were. He was dressed in dark grey, with leather boots and a matching utility belt that hung at his waist. A gun sat at each hip, separated by a flashlight and a short sheathed knife. I looked up at his face and cringed. His skin was the tannest I'd ever seen, his blue eyes sharp and cold. He had a half sun tattooed on the side of his face, stretching from his right temple down to the tip of his jaw. "Where are you headed?"

he hissed, turning toward the presence. The shadow stepped forward. Pale skin like porcelain, eyes blacker than night itself, and a presence that made the air feel too heavy to breathe. “I am what waits at the end of your kind,” the figure said, voice deep and hollow. “You were given years you did not deserve, Clark.” “What the f*ck are you talking about?!” Clark spat, backing away. “Get out of here—this is none of your business!” The Reaper tilted his head. “You stole her breath. Now, I take yours.”

Ayira to become a reaper or not I scrunched my mouth and wiggled my cheeks against the hard surface under my face. I blinked my eyes and looked up and my mouth dropped open. I lifted my head and looked down at Grim. God he was beautiful. His black eyelashes were fanned across his high cheekbones. I squinted my eyes. Reapers don't sleep, I remembered. I looked down at his bare chest and swallowed seeing his ink work. Hot damn, he's covered with beautifully done tattoos. I used my index finger to trace one and hear the deep rumble of his laughter building up. I chuckled softly and looked up at his green eyes glowing brightly at me.

I moved to his left, dropping to one knee and tracking the second pair of Reapers. ​I didn't think about the humanity of the men in the black gear. I thought about the ledger. I thought about the cage. I thought about Julian Vane’s smug, entitled face. I squeezed the trigger, the recoil vibrating through my shoulder as the first Reaper went down, his rifle clattering against the marble floor. ​"Move! To the Enlightenment Gallery!" Malakai shouted, grabbing my hand as we sprinted through the crossfire.

No groaning. Just the echo of the shot fading into the rafters. "Stay down," Drakon hisses. He moves forward, hugging the wall, aiming into the shadows. I peek around the doorframe. I look at the pillar. The wire is there. It’s cut. Nikos is gone. But there is a body on the floor. A man in black tactical gear. A Reaper? A mercenary? He’s lying face down in a pool of blood. Drakon walks over to him. He rolls the body over with his boot.

The Oni-Brute instantly froze, its power severed, before collapsing under its own massive weight. On the right flank, Reaper used an explosive round to blind the sensory optics of the second Brute, while Sienna darted through the monster's legs, her twin Phase-Knives neatly severing the heel tether. In the center, Dax and Lena moved like a unified strike force.

Below it, another line had been carved later. VESSEL ROUTE ACTIVE. Raiken read it over my shoulder. His hand tightened around mine. “This was prepared before you returned.” Cassian crouched beside a low table. Three black needles lay across it. The same kind that had attacked us beneath the cottage. Shigure picked up one with the edge of his blade. “Soren’s work.” Hayate entered behind him. His face drained of colour when he saw the shelves. Renji stood beside him without touching him.

Kiran seemed like a meditative monk, isolated from the outside world. With hands clasped, Lilian silently prayed for Kiran to react and escape. "Let's go to hell together, Kiran!" Kanpei Ichiro shouted as he sprinted toward Kiran. His black figure stood out in the white light, resembling a black sword against the radiant background. His face twisted into a fierce and malevolent expression.

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.”

Nekomata Nekomata or cat of darkness, is a creature in Japanese mythology, is a creature that is able to control death, and has black power, in the myth of war the nine gods of Nekomata have a symbol of darkness, in the story Nekomata is a cat with two black angel wings and two tails, and is able to change being human. Nekomata is traditionally told as a cat that evolved from revenge because of the torture of its owner. 44. Basilisk