Scary Reaper Novels & Stories

A Reaper stepped through the portal opening. Tall, with ebony hair, he wore the long black cloak she expected to see, a scythe in his hand. The man quickly ran to the left of the portal, and then another Reaper appeared on his heels. Dressed identically, with the same weapon, he ran to the right. Then, another sprang forth, and another. Ru watched, her eyes wide as the Reapers continued to pour out of the portal, as if Hell had spilled an inkwell and the thick, black substance was covering the entire earth.

I sighed. “Oh, really? Why do you seem disappointed?” My mouth open but no words came out. I’m not disappointed! “Hey, you know what, I’m hanging up! I hate you!” I said but she just laughed. I drink on my wine when I received a message to the mysterious and creepy guy. Yeah, I know he’s a boy. … Creep to Tatiana: Hey, you having fun? … Creep to Tatiana: By looking at you from afar, you seem happy with him.

They all looked at me with a mix of fear and hope. "These are the survivors from other worlds," the Creator said. "The ones who were supposed to be deleted. I saved them. But we are trapped in this forest. The High Council has sent a reaper to find us." Suddenly, a loud, metallic horn sounded from the sky. The silver trees began to shake, their leaves falling like sharp knives. The peaceful blue light of the flowers turned a blood-red. "He is here," the Creator said, his face turning pale. "The First Reaper."

No one is ever going to rescue us, and their constant begging only eggs on the Pearl Reapers. The lashes fall harder, the shrieks grow louder, and pearls fall like rain into the water around us. “That’s it, harder!” The head Reaper praises his men. “Give them more!” We give nicknames to all the Reapers. We know little about them, other than that they belong to the Bloodstone pack. We’ve never seen them in their wolf forms, so we name them based on their human appearances. We call the head reaper Cyclops – christened thus for the jagged scar running through his left eye socket; his sight solely dependent on his right eye. Unfortunately his aim is no less precise for the disability.

Westham Shipping Port Friday, July 22nd 21:14 FOOLISHLY FELL FOR THE ACT "He'd never felt rage like this, such a burning desire to kill." Scar rolled his eyes at the blood that stained his clothes, it was a murky red, the type of red that didn't quite suit the menacing man. Wielding a gun like the one he was brought back painful memories of his days as a soldier, memories he wished he could bury. The sky was a dark hue with grey clouds that dominated and light rain that slightly soaked the riders. Scar was agitated, he wanted to go home, back to Lani, but he had a mission despite how much he wanted to fail it. So far, things had run smoothly. The men had found and killed over 5 members of th

“Is that all you wanna fucking remember? What about me telling you to stay the fuck away from me? That didn’t stick?” Her face puffed up. I could see her all so familiar rage returning and I knew she would have hit me with that stupid bat of hers if she could. “Why the fuck was someone like you even around me when I was five?!” Jesus fucking Christ. “Someone like me?” “You are called the Reaper King, so you’re not a fucking saint either,” She yelled. “What? You think being in this club changes all the terrible things you’ve done? Or taking care of the president’s orphaned daughter abstains you? You’re a fucking hypocrite. The fact that I’m such a raging bitch is because you’re a—”

Cora I find myself standing in front of a man whose face I can't see but I feel that I should fear him. I am standing with the rest of the women for the reaping knowing that I am going to be picked by this man who is scaring me. I hear a voice say my name and I know it's over for me. Any chance of me going back home to my village is gone. All hope of having a happy life is destroyed as soon as I see the devious smirk on his face.

Looking around as his heart is in a race for the horror that he witnessed, he felt a tingling sensation at the back of him, and turning quickly around as he swallowed his fear, he comes face to face to a beautiful woman in a reaper’s scythe. “Hello and welcome, John.” Calling his name as her smile fixed unto her beautiful face and perfect image, both her grace and the warning flag of a death trap where there is no escape left him in a stun. “Who are you?” Somewhat stuttering, yet took his composure as he is trying to hide his fear inside. The reaper smiles back, leaning close as she could smell the fear all over his body as it gives her pure satisfaction.

And right in the middle of it all—he waited. Jax. They called him Reaper—because death followed him like a shadow, a silent, inevitable companion. The kind of man who could kill with a glance and leave no trace but silence and a cold void where a life once was. The instant his eyes, obsidian chips of ice, sliced through the noise and landed on me, the world shrank to that frozen moment. My breath caught, a jagged shard in my throat. I knew—without a doubt—that I was standing in the eye of a storm, and I was the fragile thing about to be torn apart.

In fact, extended stays on the surface world is fatal to us. At the Helm, I’m joined by the three other reapers I saw at the abandoned airport on my first day. They’re all, just like me, controlled by Septimus with his variously styled gothic rings: talon, jester, and scorpion. Respectively they are Kera, the evil Valkyrie, Ankou, the creepy clown, and Yama Ranger, the four-armed and blue-skinned cowboy. Collectively they call themselves the Bureau of Transmigration. Not that they tell me things or they’re ever in a talkative mood. In fact, with the exception of Septimus and Ankou, the reapers are taciturn to the point of seeming mute. Ankou isn’t much of an improvement either with his posh