Scythe Grim Reaper Novels & Stories

Those acts were insane and dangerous but necessary to distract the Grim Reaper from a more violent massacre. But unfortunately, even though the Grim Reapers' skull had been destroyed, their body were still free to roam and slaughter using their giant bone scythes. Even though their attacks were now irregular because the Grim Reapers didn't have skulls, it's still dangerous. So the elves deftly grabbed the Grim Reapers' giant bone scythes and threw it as far as it could go. Meanwhile, the discus troops threw their weapons to cut off the Grim Reaper's sharp arms and tail. So even though the creatures were still wandering around, at least the Grim Reaper's attack power level had dropped drastic

I clamped his chin and used my other hand to pull up the top teeth of his mouth, then gripped his white filmed tongue and yanked it out. He screeched, sounding like the creatures that he recently possessed but could not summon them anymore. He squirmed on the sand as uncontrollable blood poured from his mouth. At that moment, an oval brown swirling portal appeared to our left and a grim reaper walked out. The skeletal figure shrouded in a dark, hooded robe and carrying a scythe glided towards the necromancer. With a skillfully executed slash of his razor-sharp blade, Crawley's soul ascended from his body. The blade latched on to him and was dragged away into the vortex, which closed and disa

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.

I ate and listened to him. "Within the Death Ministry, only Grim can enter. There are only two types of grim that are the Council and the Reapers. The Grim Council are the ones who bring death notes from superiors to be sent to Grim Reapers like me, where we have to fetch the soul of the person written there. When we do not get them at the right time and place, they can escape and just add to the missing souls. In 40 days we should reap them otherwise they will be like the lost soul you saw yesterday. Dark and evil. " I nodded as a sign that I understood him.

It struck the ground a dozen feet in front of them. Where the beam hit, the scrubby grass, the tough little weeds, the hardy insects, everything simply… turned grey. Not dead. It was still standing, but all color, all vitality, was instantly leeched from it. It became a perfect, static sculpture of its former self, frozen in a moment of absolute apathy. A Reaper. That's what the Overseer had written. Deploy Reapers to sanitize the sector. Their weapon didn't kill. It preserved in a state of non-life. It was the ultimate expression of the Grey Sorrow's philosophy.

His hand around my throat further restricted my capability to breathe. “I care naught for your worthless words, girl. You have crossed the King's Reaper and I will crush you into the dust!” He flicked his wrist and I felt my neck ache. I fell to the ground writhing, fighting for any breathe I could get. “Women are not permitted to have magic- so you are a liar.” He quickly grabbed his scythe. “Once I reap you- I will live again as the most powerful being in existence.” I could feel my body start to resign against the force. A dazed feeling came over me as I could only watch him. “Soul Reaper!” The scythe swung down cutting my soul from my body. I could see the wispy woman rise above as a gur

I took a deep breath as his gaze sent chills down my spine, forcing myself not to meet his eyes with my own. I had to remind myself who he really was. He was the Reaper, the man who killed his whole family, the man who could kill with his bare hands. I had to remember that, I couldn’t let myself see him as handsome…even if I couldn’t deny that he certainly was. I pulled out a chair on my end of the table, as far away from Kael as possible. Before I could sit, I heard a low growl coming from Kael, making me snap my eyes back to his face.

In an instant, blood spurted everywhere. My ghost friends screamed, clearly not expecting him to be so ruthless to himself. Anthony finally got to see me. Not long after slashing his wrists, he lost consciousness, and his soul slipped out of his body. He froze when he saw me. "Willow." His voice was hoarse and filled with raw joy. He rushed toward me, overwhelmed. I easily avoided him, looked him over, and said mockingly, "You're filthy." He stiffened and lowered his head, frantically wiping the blood from his wrist onto his clothes. "I'm sorry."

He's practically the devil,' I said to myself, knowing that I was trapped there forever. 'Goddess, what kind of life is this that you've planned for me?' I pleaded with her. The skies outside started to darken and thunder rumbled in the distance. It wasn't coincidental, it was symbolic. "How ironic. Thunder, lighting and heavy rainfall rolls right about when the Night Reaper loses his temper and attacks one of his own men. He has never and will never know what it means to be human. Cassian Grant is nothing else but the Night Reaper. A ruthless and murderous Alpha who lost his humanity ages ago."

Its hunger throbbed - dark, pulsing, wanting out. No. The Duskbane Grimoires were clear: the Scythe was a weapon of eclipse. Summon it under night, invite the darkness to consume the wielder's soul. A sun-weapon. Tonight, I was on my own. A metallic clink erupted from behind the practice dummies. I didn't turn. Didn't break stride. I sent a Threadbare filament behind me like a spider's web. It brushed something cold, hard, moving fast. "Ten of you," I murmured, voice low, aristocratic silk. "And here I thought the Shadow Syndicate had some pride left."