The Soul Reaper

The Soul Reaper

A Story by humansalwayswantmore;itsinthiernature

There once was a soul reaper...


Chapter 1.


The loss happened little by little.

The loss of the older friend that taught them what was right and wrong.

The loss of the other of the three best friends who thought they could start a band and take over the world. They called themselves the Killer Barbies, by the way.

The one she loved with all her heart.

The one that taught her that she wasn't alone and that love was in fact genderless.

The loss of a father.

As a result, the loss of a male figure's guidance.

Then the loss of purity.

Then the loss of faith.

With the loss of faith came the loss of unearthly beliefs.

The unearthly beliefs that made her who she was.

Then the loss of the belief that love even existed.

Then some losses of hope.

And with that, what was left?

Where does that leave the soul?

The loss of the soul.

But how did these losses commence?


When June felt sad and empty she liked to roam around by herself.

Never indoors.

She liked to sit on the roof and listen to her music.

Shut the world out and gaze at the wonderous sky.

Wished the air could take her with it.

She like to walk around her dark neighborhood, especially on that one street with the tiny church and the dark wooded street.

She liked to ride her razor scooter around to feel the adrenaline from the scruffy street dogs that would chase her. Just to feel something.

One day none of that seemed like enough.

She wasn't dumb.

She knew that drugs weren't the answer to a good escape.

She had seen what it did to people that used them as a means to escape.

She had tried it herself.

She knew the bad effects and the guilt that accompanied it afterwards.


One dark night all of this wasn't enough.

She quietly opened the iron black gates.

She pushed her compact car out of the driveway.

It took effort but she knew it would be worth it.

She started the engine and drove off with her earbuds on playing the music that gave her the bittersweet feelings and with the air of the lowered window letting her matted hair free.

Freedom was all she wanted.

Freedom made all the bad feelings go away.

Freedom was the best feeling in the world.

A world that lacked so much feeling.

At least for her.

She was a hypersensitive girl, but that she didn't realize.

She drove down the dark empty roads in the middle of the night.

Feeling a bit of that rush.

But only a hint.

Not enough.

Where to go?

She had tried it all.

She knew all the "forbidden" places of the neighborhood.

The catwalk.

The secret clubhouses in the woods.

The abondoned burned house.

The nice walk by the brigde that would sometimes overflow with water.

She drove down Market until she arrived to where all the bridges from the highways were where they all intersected.

Then she remembered the cemetery.

The only cemetery around the area.

It was pretty big but she'd never actually been inside.

She drove over the little brigde, over the train tracks and onto the lonely narrow road.

At least there were street lights on this side of town.

She felt the blood in her veins rush a little faster once the gravestones came into view.

She turned off her headlights early and parked by the fence.

She began to feel a tingling sensation at the back of her cerebrum and she began to feel a little more alive.

She turned off the engine, locked the doors and made sure four times that she had the keys in the pocket of her hoodie.

How do I do this?

She eyed around and decided that she would have to go over the fence.

Though she was a little frightened, the thought that she would have to jump the fence excited her a little more.

She backed up for a little momentum and pounced on the fence, only failing for she lost the grip and slipped down.


The pain felt nice.

The little scratches on her hands were physical signs of her passion to the dedication she had to gaining her personal freedoms.

She gave it another attempt only to slip once more.

With much determination this time, she took some steps back and lightly jumped on the fence, one foot, two.

Her hand reached the top and then the other.

She felt the wire cut into her hand.


Her face curled up in a grimacing ball.

It stung. She picked up the pierced hand and reached for a safer spot and managed to quickly pull herself up and over.

She landed on her feet.

Then took a look at her hand. There was a tiny hole in her palm.

It was okay, at least there was no blood.


The trickle of the blood's emerge was a surprise. 

It made her feel a little dizzy.

Panic rose in the deep pit cavity of her chest.

She held in tight with the sleeve of her hoodie hoping the the amount of the blood would lessen.

It did. That made her feel a little better.

Almost ruined her buzz.

Almost made her too nervous.

With her heartbeat slowing, she walked through the damp grass.

The wet blades of green glass glowed under the street light.

She studied the illuminating grave markers.

She studied the names and fancy carvings.

The dates and colors of the fake flowers.

The sites where couples were buried alongside of eachother.

How some gravespots were already reserved.

They had no death date. Just the born date.

Family members wanting to be buried alongside of their loved ones.

She walked and walked while she listened to her music.

It all flowed so well together.

She felt calm.

Calm but still sad.

But this sadness was different.

It wasn't the fearful anxiety.

It was soothing sadness that let her know that she was still alive.

It was cloudy and the clouds would hide the light of the moon so that the night appeared to grow dark then lighter.

Something that she had mistaken the first time as a shadow she thought she had seen from the corner of her eye.

Then she saw a woman in a nice long white robe standing in front of a mausoleum statue.

Looked like she was admiring the carving of the angel.

She was running her fingers down the robes of the angel.

June didn't know what to do.

She felt a rush of fear.

She couldn't see the lady's face.

The robe had a hood.

The silhouette did appear to be one of a woman's though.

A fully visible solid woman.

She kept to her path.

The path was leading her towards the lady.

She was a curious kitten.

She wasn't the type to just turn around and run.

She walked slowly keeping an eye on the white robed figure.

The closer she got, the darker the robe's color faded.

Light chalky grey.

A little darker.

Medium grey.


She was only a couple of yards away now.

And the woman's robe now appeared black.

The hairs stood up from the back of June's neck.






Chapter 2.


She passed up the lady who's robe was now black.

As she passed she felt this sinking vibe.

She wanted to keep looking at the lady.

Something told her not to keep her eyes off of her.

Something told her that the lady needed help. Company.

She was in need. She felt sick. VEry sick and needed someone to coversate with.

Someone to share her fears with. Her pain. Someone to share with.

But June was too terrified.

 She walked passed her, her eyes set straight ahead and nowhere more.

June Reylskin?



June heard in her head again.

She turned around.

The lady was in her face.

June's heart jumped at her throat, she almost choked.

She held one hand to her throat as to protect her heart.

The lady's sockets were black and hollow.

Black liquid lactaided, rushing out from the holes.

June, remain calm. I am the MorningStar and its time now that I've come to visit you. I meant to come into your life earlier, but I was giving you a chance to have your fun. I called to you tonight, though.




© 2011 humansalwayswantmore;itsinthiernature

Author's Note

I guess this is chapter one. More to come later. What do you guys think?

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wth? i wrote this? man i haven't been on this thing in a long time. this is crazy!

Posted 10 Years Ago

man its as if i was there !! i really love your story lets see whats up next

Posted 12 Years Ago

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2 Reviews
Added on December 22, 2010
Last Updated on January 1, 2011
Tags: afterlife, ghosts, philosophy, curious girls, dark story



houston, TX

Hello =] My name is Evelyn. I'm nineteen. I write when I'm feeling a strong emotion. Actually mostly when I'm mad or not feeling myself. I'd rather be a bucket of sunshine then a raincloud and truly .. more..