Supernatural Oneshots

There Ain't No Rest For The Wicked (Reaper!Reader)

Reaper!Reader

No pairing with this one, I wrote this one for giggles.

Song lyrics are There Ain't No Rest For The Wicked by Cage the Elephant

The frosty air chilled your body as you inhaled it in your lungs. Stuffing your hands on your pockets, you continue shuffling down the dirtied sidewalk. A white Styrofoam cup tumbled in front of you, causing you to watch the lonely thing to cross the street.

Gazing up from the street, you see a woman strut up to the cloaked figure in front of you. Creeping closer, you lock your eyes on your target, watching the woman speak to the man.

I was walkin' down the street
When out the corner of my eye
I saw a pretty little thing approaching me
She said, "I never seen a man
Who looked so all alone
Oh could you use a little company?

And if you pay the right price
Your evening will be nice
And you can go and send me on my way."
I said, "You're such a sweet young thing
Why you do this to yourself?"
She looked at me and this is what she said

Oh, there ain't no rest for the wicked
Money don't grow on trees
I got bills to pay
I got mouths to feed
And ain't nothing in this world for free
No I can't slow down
I can't hold back
Though you know I wish I could
No, there ain't no rest for the wicked
Until we close our eyes for good

Watching the figure walk from the woman, you silently slither up to her as she makes her way across the busy street. A horn honks loudly as the stripper stops in her tracks, the truck ramming into her side. The woman is sent flying through the air, landing on the sidewalk, her body twisted as blood trailed down her face.

Slowly you reach down, pressing your fingers to her skull, drawing her soul from her body. You pull a container from your side, bottling the blue mist inside, before sealing the lid tightly. You take out a notebook, drawing a thin line over a name.

LISA CAMERON - HIT BY A TRUCK

Sighing, you glance down at the next name.

MARK WAYBILL - STABBED IN HEART

Continuing the figure's path, you dart past humans down the street, the street lamps starting to glow orange.

As the figure passes a alleyway, a man creeps up behind him, pulling a gun out and pressing it against the figure's head.

Not even 15 minutes later
I'm still walkin' down the street
When I saw the shadow of a man creep out of sight
And then he swept up from behind
He put a gun up to my head
He made it clear he wasn't lookin' for a fight

He said, "Give me all you got.
I want your money not your life,
But if you try to make a move I won't think twice."
I told him, "You can have my cash,
But first you know I gotta ask
What made you wanna live this kind of life?"
He said

Oh, there ain't no rest for the wicked
Money don't grow on trees
I got bills to pay
I got mouths to feed
And ain't nothing in this world for free
No I can't slow down
I can't hold back
Though you know I wish I could
No, there ain't no rest for the wicked
Until we close our eyes for good

After the figure handed the man his wallet, he stuffed the thing in his pocket, taking off back into the alley. Following the armed man, you watched as he forked over the cash to a twitching woman. She pulled out a bag of powder, the man's face lighting up in the dimming sunlight.

A flash of silver came from the woman's hand, which held a small pocket knife. The blade was covered in crimson as the man slumped to the ground, the woman quickly pocketing the bag. You glide into the alley, watching Mark's blue eyes glaze over, pulling his soul from his corpse, once again, placing it in a glass bottle.

Pulling out your book, you mark through his name, taking off to find your next target.

Well now a couple hours passed
And I was sitting in my house
The day was winding down and coming to an end
So I turned to the TV
And flipped it over to the news
And what I saw I almost couldn't comprehend

I saw a preacher man in cuffs
He'd taken money from the church
He'd stuff his bank account with righteous dollar bills
But even still I can't say much
Because I know we're all the same
Oh yes we all seek out to satisfy those thrills

You know there ain't no rest for the wicked
Money don't grow on trees
We got bills to pay
We got mouths to feed
And ain't nothing in this world for free
No we can't slow down
We can't hold back
Though you know we wish we could
No there ain't no rest for the wicked
Until we close our eyes for good

You slipped through the crowded prison, not being noticed by the trapped humans. You followed the trail of death, seeing your target  surrounded in the cell. The preacher gripped his hand to his chest, falling in pain as his heart constricted, failing to pump vital blood throughout his body. Inmates crowded around him, as he gasped for his last breath. You passed through the people, gripping the soul before taking it from it's vessel.

After sealing the soul in a bottle, you took off into the night, walking into a open field. Releasing the souls, they flew off into the night, two traveling to Hell while the third went straight to Heaven.

"All in a day's work." You puffed, opening up your book, finding a whole new list to go reap.

"This should be fun."

Did you guys like this one? I was just messing around with this one. I hope you liked it, so vote, comment, and request! You know what to do!

Question for this Fanfiction: Which episode of Supernatural was the funniest for you?

Have a fabulous summer my peeps!

-LunaMarieWolf