The Black Reaper Novels & Stories

Fuck you, Ryan," I muttered. With resentment running in my capillaries, I dipped at him. However, he stopped my attack with his palm, held my fist then twisted my hand. Before I could make another move, he hit me on the chest with his leg, sending me a few meters backwards. Coughing out blood, I rose to my feet. I scrutinized him again but he is no longer on the spot. Surrounding us now are the reaper's soldiers, their bodies emitting black smoke. The black hood that is covering their face makes them look scary, copulating with how they are gritting their teeth together like a wolf. They had equine's soles instead of normal human limbs, long scarves like hijab, and a metal gauntlet in each h

Yes, I'm dead and hallucinating before whatever it is decides where I go next. The nurse's voice grips my attention again. "Oh, the Scaler. That's the creature that reminds you of the last thing you heard before you died until it's sure your soul is pure. If you've committed many crimes during your mortal life, he will torture you until he is satisfied, but you'll never enter the afterlife. Instead, your soul will enter another body with no memories, and the cycle will start all over again. Since your soul was pure, he set you free and even gave you the chance to fight for your life. That doesn't happen. But maybe..." Her eyes search the room. Something's off with her sudden chance- she's no

In the center of the room was what appeared to be an altar made from black stone and marble with a single flame burning atop it. On either side of the altar were two reapers—one male and one female—dressed in matching black robes and hoods that covered their features from view except for their eyes which were a deep dark red color like blood. An archway stood offset the altar, leading to another room. The atmosphere in this chamber was one of torture and screams as if used for black magic and sacrifice. The energies of the reapers felt like that of shame, disgust, and imprisonment. As we walked forward into this mysterious chamber, I could feel my heart racing from anticipation at what might

Our youngest, little Dante — named after the inferno we had walked through — toddled between us, oblivious to the stakes but sensing the tension. This was the night the compulsion was supposed to activate. The night The Eclipse had promised our children would turn on us and walk willingly into their shadow empire. We had come to end it where it began. Damien stood at my side, the Reaper in full armor — black tactical gear, guns holstered, knives ready. His hand never left the small of my back, possessive even now. “If they come, we finish this,” he said, voice low and lethal. “No mercy.”

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.

He was a failed weapon they experimented from before. In order to activate his black mana, his body must be in an exhausted state! But in good condition where no wounds even a scratch! And in fact, he could not increase his Combat Experience when using this ability. And because Yman had a weak physical body at the moment, he could not handle much longer his black mana and could only use it for a few seconds.

"They think we're just another High Council boundary patrol coming to purge their outposts." "Then let's go introduce ourselves," I said softly, my voice carrying that low, double-layered Sovereign resonance that caused the frost on the stone battlements to fracture into spiderweb patterns. We moved to the heavy iron descent cage—a massive, open-air lift suspended by ancient steel cables embedded deep within the mountain's core. Fifty chosen Blackwood Reapers, clad in winterized tactical armor and bearing heavy silver shields, loaded into the secondary cages on our flanks. The mechanical winch groaned violently, the ancient gears grinding against ice as the heavy floor gave way, dropping us

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.

The king was focused to Chief Black at once. "We found this in hidden in the belongings of the crown princess, Your Majesty." Chief Black lifted his hand for everyone to see. I gasped and my throat ran dry when I saw what he was holding. It is a black little bottle with black lid. "And we found out that it indeed contains the deadly extract of the poisonous flower Lily of Morte." I felt like my whole world crumbled into ashes. I couldn't move. I couldn't speak. It felt like doom was suddenly in front, standing right before me.

Reaper's the big black guy isn't he? Clara smiled. "You guessed it. Doesn't surprise you, does it? Reaper got brought over about eight years ago. He was in special forces in the army, but one of those sub-organizations that doesn't technically or legally exist. He's the best sniper that I've ever seen, and he's scary and dangerous. He's a real bonus to Shane, and he's the loyal sort. Get on his good side, and you've got a very lethal friend for life. Cross him --" "I think I get the idea," Shamira said.