Latin Grim Reaper Novels & Stories

Lifting it to look at it more closely I glared at the off-male. "Who or what are you," I inquired. The man smiled and introduced himself. Pulling the blanket up that covered my manly bits he continued to examine the area I had been stabbed. He moved the harness and shook his head in annoyance. "I am Atlas, a necromancer, reaper, and a good friend of your biological family. You're lucky I was the one to get your reaping card and recognize you. You were close to drifting off to your next life when I appeared. Holding up my fingers as I went over all he said in my head, my eyes widened.

Their eyes held an ancient quality, and power seemed to radiate from them like heat. Lycans. An ancient bloodline with abilities that regular werewolves didn't possess. The carriage stopped in front of the main palace entrance, where a group of people waited. All of them were strikingly beautiful, all of them radiated that same primal power. Bastian exited first, then turned to help Lyra down. As her feet touched the ground, she felt dozens of eyes assessing her, weighing her, judging her worth. "Everyone," Bastian said, his voice carrying easily despite the mask. "This is Luna Lyra, my honored guest. She will be staying with us for the coming month as part of a cultural exchange with Crest

“Break one of his fingers.” Lukas hesitates, then grabs the man’s hand and snaps his pinky. The man screams. “Ah! You bitch! Fine, fine—I’ll talk. Just don’t hurt me again. I have a pregnant wife.” “Then start talking.” “His name is Lucian Gray,” he stammers. “He pretends to own a club, but he’s a dark lord. I’ve only seen him once—green eyes, dragon tattoo on his arm. If you want to find him, act like you’re buying from him. Make the deal big enough and he’ll come himself. That’s all I know, I swear.”

"I died. People tend to change after that." "Not like this." His eyes were the warm brown of autumn earth, nothing like Jaxon's predatory gold. "The Lumira I knew was... softer. Needier. She would have let Emberlyn fail just to avoid the confrontation." "The Lumira you knew was a ghost waiting to be buried." I took my XP marks from the clerk, the digital confirmation chiming in my pocket. "I'm what climbed out of her grave. Don't expect sentimentality from a revenant." Mason laughed. The sound was genuine, surprised, too loud for the quiet line. Several students turned to stare. I caught a flash of gold from the Fenrir table, Jaxon's eyes burning across the distance.

I returned, the confusion on my face, unmistaken. Just then the bell rang indicating that his class was over. Narek Carne gathered his items and left the class without saying a word to me. I was perplexed with his reaction and needed to know the reasons for his outburst. “Yours was exceptional” I heard someone say from behind and turned to the owner of the voice with raised brows, how did she know my thoughts? “I’m Liz” she stretched her hands for a handshake, “a vampire” she added with a smirk.

“Sorry if I can't remember every little thing you say, Corpseboy.” “I'm the Grim Reaper, the Masked Reaper. Follow me, little lamb? Or are you still lost in the pasture?” “I'm not a sheep, idiot. Don't patronize me- hey!” I exclaimed as he grabbed my hands impatiently, thrusting my fingers against his bony cheeks. “Eww! Let go of me! What the heck are you doing?” I protested, recoiling at the feel of the skull beneath my fingers. But his grip remained firm, forcing me to trace the cool bone as his hands guided mine to the hollows beneath his brow.

It was a wooden scythe with a u-shaped moon. He’s a– “Grim reaper,” I mumbled. “You’re a grim reaper?” With wide eyes, I took two steps backward. “I sure am.” He grinned more seeing my reaction. I looked at him from head to toe. “You don’t look like one though. Grim reapers usually blend in with the mormians making it easy for them to catch evil spirits.” He gave me a stern look. “It’s because I’m born to stand out.” He stared back to the road and put his hands in his pockets. “Besides, no evil spirit can escape Grip,” he boastfully added.

“What about this Reaper? He’s no longer a suspect?” “No. He had nothing to do with the attack on Liam or the attacks on Wendy. When we arrived in Purgatory, James was trying to attack Wendy and Graten, whom you know as Reaper, was fighting James to protect her.” “You’re sure?” Graten decided that he had enough of the conversation and cleared his throat, “I can assure you that I most definitely am not the enemy and my name is not Reaper.” Damon’s eyes grew wide with shock. He hadn’t even noticed Graten in the corner.

The guy did not go to the vein. The father, in despair, slaughtered the calf. The sick person and the house were sprinkled with hot pure blood of the animal, asking the Guardians to take away the evil ailment. But either the Keepers did not hear the prayers, or the calf seemed to them too skinny... Lub died. His face was black, and his mutilated hand stank in a way that dead men who had lain in the heat for three days do not stink.

“I don’t want to think about that yet!” Lucan nodded solemnly. “We’ll return to this conversation… in time.” But just then, the door burst open. Jim. He strode in, suit still immaculate, eyes flicking briefly over me before landing on Lucan. “Lucan. How do you feel?” “Stronger,” Lucan replied. Jim nodded grimly. “Sorry to interrupt, but we have a situation. The Midnight Reaper struck again. This time… It’s a teenage child.” I gasped.