Mccree X Reaper Novels & Stories

The steel door slams against the concrete wall. A Reaper fills the doorway. He’s wearing a skull mask, holding a sawed-off shotgun. BOOM. Markos doesn't hesitate. He pulls the trigger. The sound in the small concrete room is deafening. It hits me like a physical punch to the chest. My ears ring instantly. The Reaper flies backward as if yanked by an invisible cable. His chest is a ruin of red and black. He hits the floor in the hallway and doesn't move.

Lariempi said emotionlessly “Lord please teach me how to kill them, even with my powers I could only watch…” Amelia said before breaking into tears again and Lariempi smiled slightly “You couldn’t kill them because your weapon was too inferior.” He said, he then raised his index finger and a drop of golden god-blood dropped from his finger and landed on the ground

Cillian’s lips curled back to reveal sharp, bloody canines. “I was so hoping we’d get to this part . . . ” he said, wiping his mirth-streaked eyes. His giggles erupted into loud, manic laughter, and the Reapers behind our seats raised their blades. Before the one behind me could stab down, I pulled the revolver from my pocket, pointed up at the Reaper’s jaw, and fired. The Reaper fell as the bullet blasted through its head, but no blood sprayed from the wound—only a cloud of dust. The skull mask wasn’t a mask at all. It was its face!

He floored the engine, the SUV skidding in the mud before finding traction and roaring past the silver cars. I leaned back against the seat, the adrenaline finally drowning out the fire in my chest and replacing it with a cold, murderous void. I looked at my hands....my shaking, bloody hands that had pull a trigger at fifteen and spent a decade trying to wash the stain away....and I realized that the Reaper wasn't just a nickname. It was a promise. I reached into the tactical bag at my feet and pulled out a fresh magazine, clicking it into my Beretta with my good hand.

Death blocked the kick with his arms, but before he could counter Zach had already jumped backward with another gust. The air in the room gathered around Zach's arms and legs. "We had another fight scheduled and I wanted to convince you to go. Figured I might as well move the fight up, considering I hope you'll be leaving soon." Death often forgot how battle-hungry Zach could get. He was one of the oldest grim, an elite force of reapers that Death picked to act as an example for humans that wanted to get stronger. 'You've seen more fights than almost any other human I've met, but you still have a bad habit of overestimating yourself.'

Jax roared behind her, limping after her as fast as his injured leg would allow. She reached the hallway just as two Reapers dragged Lena out. Her friend was screaming, bad leg twisting painfully as they yanked her by the hair. She charged forward and swung the wrench with everything she had. It connected with the man’s skull with a sickening crack. He dropped Lena and staggered. Jax put a bullet in his head before he could recover. The second Reaper turned his gun on Hazel. Time slowed. She saw the barrel swing toward her. Saw the man’s finger tighten on the trigger.

The bullet struck against my side, hot silver searing through my muscle, agony exploded through me, white-hot, a pain that shoved me, vision blurring, as I toppled onto my back, human once more, my form quivering, warm, sticky life leaching out, pooling golden slick on concrete. Tyler laughed, a scornful laugh and stepped backward when Caspian tackled him, both of them smashing into a forge, sparks flying, metal caving in as they hit it. I dragged myself, one hand shaking, to a console and smeared my blood all over the keys. A screen came to life, a vision flashing before her like a bad dream—Elara and Jasmine, chained to altars, their wrists slit, silver sliding up from the ground, runes li

The reapers' blades came out of their scabbards. Reaper Swithun took aim and pointed his swords at the werewolves' necks. "You will regret doing this," Reaper Swithun said as he narrowed his gaze. "So you better be prepared for what happens now because your death is in my hands." He tightened the grip of his sword.

Rider was also engaged, and Sky’s first line, the one that was supposed to be there as a perimeter, was forced to move in to hold them off. Cutter chose a demon to concentrate on, one that was closest to the doorway of the church, but before he could do too much damage, he looked up to see four Reapers closing in, their scythes raised. Unlike any of the Reapers he’d ever pursued, these actually were made of bone, which was startling to him. It took him a moment to recover, and that split second was enough time for one of the Reapers to hit him with a wave of black energy. Cutter staggered backward and fought against it, managing to bring the light from his right hand around to cut through it

"A war is coming and it is your fight. It is going to be a deadly one, you will lose your loved ones but at last, you shall be victorious. But you have to be ready and face all you meet, else you fall into the darkness and your ability taken away from you like it never existed in the first place" This was what she was speaking about, my eyes turned to Narek who was sprawled on the floor, his eyes held so much pain as he gazed into mine. Aman stood above him, panting heavily as blood trickled down his injured face. Clyde's tattoos and runes had finally wiped away from his skin and he fell limply to the floor, drained. Tears gushed out of my eyes as I clasped my hand over my mouth and cried bi