Soldier: 76 Reaper Novels & Stories

Pushing himself up and turning around, he pumps the shotgun before turning around and aiming it at me. "Die," the soldier yells before someone comes from the side and hits the soldier in the head. The soldier falls to the ground with a broken helmet and a bloody head. Biting my tongue as I look, I see Rebecca with a brick and a shotgun in her hands. "Are you okay," she asks, dropping to her knees. "I'm fine," I lie, wiping some sweat from my forehead. "I'm fine." Swallowing some splits to dampen my dry throat, I look behind Rebecca and see some civilians with weapons. I look toward the soldier Rebecca killed with the brick. Already, there are two people looting him. They stripped him of his

"The crazy bitch was saying something about him putting something in her arm but we thought she was talking about heroin...but he inserted a tracker under her skin. Reese what the fuck is this dude into?" The man on this other line sighed. Loudly. "Shit I'll up your pay to 50K if you kill the whore and meet me tomorrow with that damn tracker device." War knew that wasn't going to be enough. Just in the way that Khan grinned and glanced at the bathroom door. "Listen it would be different if it was a Lycan but it's a human. That's extra work and clean up, then you want me to meet you somewhere. Come on. 80k."

"Attention, Asset. You are protecting a biological hazard. Stand down, or we will deploy the defoliant." "I'm not an asset," Leo shouted back. His voice was amplified by the air pressure, booming like thunder. "And this isn't a hazard. It's a sanctuary." "It is a weed," Ironwood replied. "And we brought the Roundup." The armored harvesters the Reapers moved forward. Blades spun on their fronts massive, serrated discs designed to cut through the giant cornstalks. Nozzles on their sides began to spray a white mist.

He looked at the baby, then looked at Justin, then looked back at me, his eyes instantly welling up all over again. "Well, I'll be damned," Gunner whispered, a massive, brilliant smile breaking through his tears. "We got a new Reaper."

Not ideal, but I’d killed with less. The soldier stopped near the debris, scanning the shadows with a flashlight. “One of them’s still alive,” a voice crackled through his earpiece. “Female. Orders?” He hesitated. Then“Capture if possible. Drayke’s asset.” I tightened my grip. Asset. That was what they called me now? No. Not again. I moved as he turned, swinging the pipe with every ounce of fury left in me. It connected with his jaw, bone crunching under metal. He staggered, but his gun went off a wild, deafening shot that ricocheted off the wall and sliced past my shoulder.

Behind him, three Reapers descended, their movements jagged and unnatural. "Killian!" I screamed, running toward him. He pushed himself up, his breath a ragged rasp. "Sienna... get to the vault! The Elders... they’re right behind me!" I fired my Glock, dropping the lead Reaper with a shot to the throat, but the other two were already upon us. Killian engaged them with a primal roar, his blade a silver blur in the darkness. He wasn't just fighting; he was a hurricane of violence, fueled by a desperation that transcended the formula.

Reaper Swithin said, blowing his nose and taking in the air. "AAHHHHH! This Moroi blood!" Reaper Swithun Johnson is the guardian of Strigoi Grave Risen Coven. He has ginger hair and blue eyes and always wears a black dress coat with silver buttons. He is tall and lean, with a sharp jawline and a piercing gaze that can make even the bravest of souls tremble. Reaper Swithun is known for his unwavering loyalty to the coven and his fierce protection of its members. After Ace, Reaper is second in command in the coven.

He had to be. All this time, he had been controlling everything, playing the puppet master behind the king and over the Alphas, and we had just angered him. The shadows behind the stranger suddenly thickened, swirling angrily before opening into a dark void, and another figure stepped through. I stepped back suddenly as a second reaper walked forward, his eyes lifeless as he stared straight ahead, not bothering to say anything or glance at any of us. He didn’t need to, though. He was just a soldier.

Heads turned and backed down just as fast. The Viper had arrived. I didn’t wait for pleasantries. “Show me the goods,” I said. A Bratva soldier cracked open a crate. Rows of assault rifles gleamed inside, serials shaved off clean, fresh from the ports. I bent closer, breathing in the faint scent of oil and salt, eyes narrowing. Everything looked perfect. Too perfect. Marcus shifted beside me, hands behind his back, posture a soldier’s calm. “Checks out,” he said.

"The static signal fired from the crystal orb in the archives activated a dormant defense grid across the entire border. If we take heavy armored vehicles past the wall, the EMP shockwave will fry their engines before we cross the first ridge." "So we walk," Zane purred, a wicked, expectant smile spreading across his face as he adjusted the silver combat blades strapped to his thighs. His dark eyes glinted in the torchlight, his lip ring catching the frosty glare. "Just us, fifty elite Reapers, and three hundred miles of lethal sub-zero wasteland. Sounds like a lovely weekend." "It's not just sub-zero wasteland, Zane," Tristan rasped softly from the shadow of the weapon rack. His dark, tatto