Serving Death

Serving Death

  • WpView
    Reads 269
  • WpVote
    Votes 14
  • WpPart
    Parts 1
WpMetadataReadComplete Sun, Nov 16, 201422m
There are only 500 hundred of them spread out all over the world. All of which were chosen after death to become Reapers. Reapers, that's what they are. They are the ones who take your lives away from you once your hourglass runs out. They are your cause of death if no one gets to you beforehand. They live in human world along with you but they are to be no relationships with you, Humans. Their job is just to make sure you die the right way. The way that was written on your hourglass since the day of your existence. No other magical being should have an effect on how long your life is. If they do, it is up to the Reapers to destroy them. Their lives also rest in our hands. It's their job, like I said they were chosen after death. Lord Death chose only the messed up ones to give the option of becoming a reaper; the ones who had their lives corrupted by every dark source out there.
All Rights Reserved
Join the largest storytelling communityGet personalized story recommendations, save your favourites to your library, and comment and vote to grow your community.
Illustration

You may also like

  • The experiment.
  • Porcelyn Cracked- rough 1st edit
  • The Great War
  • My Soul to Reap (Archived)
  • A Pureblood slave
  • Why him?
  • The Rogue King {18+} (Book 2)
  • Carissima
  • Grim Reaper's Handmaiden [Grim Books:1]

They used my vulnerability against me. They used that weapon, to make me accept their stupid idea. And I of course, accepted it, I didn't even know what they were going to do. They tugged and poked and even shoved their disgusting finger in your wound, just to see you cry. To see you change. No pitty in their eyes. They just continue. They drag you around with metal chains, hit you and turn you into a experiment. But I had enough of the tugging, the clawing, the moaning, the crying and pleading for them to stop, but simply feeding them with our pain. They turned me into something, that neither do they know what I am. Their afraid of me, of my reflexes, my strength. I killed a lot of them. They say I have a cold heart, that I don't feel nothing. That's why they call me: Death -----------------------------------------************************************--------------------------------------------- Death. A teen girl, pitch black hair, black eyes, white skin. Her height is 5'8. People are scared of her, not just because of her strength but because of they way she kills. She lived in this hell hole, where they take her to rooms. Examine. Fight. She knows she won't be able to entertain them for long. She decides to run. Soul. Brown hair as mud, blue eyes as the sky. Hight 6'2. Tanned and toned body. Death's best friend in the hell hole they're in, he's as cold as she is. But shows a bit of sympathy. Well... More than her at least. He's been there for her, ever since she entered this place of crap. They're the two most feared. As some people say, they're a perfect couple. Killing. Fighting. Cold hearted creatures. Also known as D and S. Why? That's what your going to find out, joining this adventure with D and S.

More details
WpActionLinkContent Guidelines