The Black Reaper Novels & Stories

I looked between his eyes, watching the black flicker to brown in and out until his beast won, the black consuming the orbs entirely, leaving no white. “You… the gods cursed you? You’re not D…” I trailed off, not knowing what to say. He wasn’t Death? He wasn’t a God? It all sounded so ridiculous now that I was about to vocalize it to his face. “I may not be a mortal, but I’m not a God.” He chuckled darkly. “Then what are you?” I asked, terrified to hear the answer. “A reaper.” He whispered, and my blood turned to ice.

"Wow, who would have thought this was what had been in stock for us all this while? He's all yours Gin, I'm pretty sure your feeble hands might be able to take him down" A different voice sounded from behind and I turned to see another one of them, emerging from the woods. "Where is Nyx?" Narek, I mean the grotesque-looking creature in Narek's body demanded but the newest addition totally ignored him. This seemed to rile Narek up as he conjured a black, ethereal fire that burns with an unnatural intensity. This fire could consume and corrupt whatever it touches. Within warning he sent it in the way of the Sorcerer who was a total snob but he was smart and quick to move out of the way.

As I opened the door, I saw a basket of letters outside my doorsteps. Upon retrieving the letters, I noticed the two black envelopes. The last time I received black envelopes to be delivered was when I was still a neophyte as a Herald. Receiving a black envelope meant I needed to send an important letter to a Reaper. Reapers are also a class of angels who reap souls and bring them to either heaven or hell.

The truck engine idles, a deep, mechanical growl that vibrates in the pavement beneath my boots. I press myself into the brick recess of the corner building, holding my breath. My heart hammers against my ribs like a trapped bird. The Reaper who stepped out of the garbage truck—a giant with a shaved head and a beard braided with metal rings—holsters his radio. "Load him up," he commands. Two more men jump out from the back of the truck. They wear black tactical gear, no cuts. Mercenaries? Or just Reapers dressed for war?

The luxury hotel roof was a frantic landscape of humming ventilation fans and gravel that crunched under our boots. The black helicopter hung in the air like a mechanical vulture, its searchlight sweeping the building with a blinding, clinical intensity. We were two silhouettes against the gray London sky, exposed and bleeding, but Malakai didn't look like a man on the run. He looked like a man who had just invited the world to a war they weren't prepared to fight. ​"They're deploying fast-ropes!" I shouted, pointing toward the dark shapes descending from the chopper's belly. The Reapers were coming for the final harvest, their black tactical gear making them look like spiders dropping from

But the tranquilizer was fast, its poison seeping into her blood, and she fell to her knees, the shale biting into her skin. Rhea Blackthorn emerged from the shadows of the pines, her jet-black hair braided tight, her amber eyes glowing with sadistic delight. She wore a leather vest and pants, a dagger strapped to her thigh, and her cruel smile was a slash of white in the moonlight. Behind her, three Black Shadow wolves slunk forward, their matted coats blending with the shadows, their claws clicking on the shale. Rhea’s voice was a purr, dripping with venom. “Look at you, Lunar Pure,” she said, crouching in front of Sam, her dagger twirling in her hand. “Not so fierce now, are you?”

Beaten to a pulp, what more could Tyr do? “Hehe!” Tyr, who was just lying on the ground, suddenly stood up. Black Reaper stood the closest to him, and before he could react, Tyr had already grabbed the Ormr Dagger. Splat. One swipe at the throat was all it took to down Black Reaper, an extremely powerful fighter. Immediately, he collapsed in a pool of blood. Everyone, including Kirin, was shocked. “Tyr Summers! How can you still move? Aren't you afraid that your girlfriend…”

Fenris yelled from the front. I looked out the reinforced window. The sky wasn't green anymore. It was **Black**. One of the Reaper ships had rebooted. But it wasn't firing spores. It was descending slowly, its obsidian hull transforming. It wasn't a ship anymore. It was becoming a massive, multi-legged **Colossus**, a metal god designed to crush anything that moved. And standing on the head of the Colossus, silhouetted against the dark sky, was a figure that made my heart stop.

The sound of his boots faded down the hall. I pressed my back against the wall and slid to the floor. My body was still shaking. Not from fear. Or not only from fear. When his teeth had grazed my mark, something inside me had ignited. A heat that started at my neck and poured down through my chest, my stomach, my thighs. My skin had tightened. My breath had caught. And for one terrible, honest second, I had wanted him closer. The Reaper. The man who’d killed his own family. The man who collected territories like other men collected debts.

I furrowed my brow and shook my head. "No, Nekane. I'm the Reaper Queen and a Death Goddess. I will not run and hide, I will fight and destroy my enemy," I decreed as I called my scythe and felt the black smoke roll across my flesh making a black cloak. I was a kick ass female reaper and Nekane nodded his head doing what I'd done. We were awesome together and I held his hand as we vanished to reap his brother.