●~TWDG Oneshotz~●

why should you sinners be saved?

[The Reaper comes and haunts the Erickson Gang as her bloodlust for revenge prevails against her moral code.]

(If ya don't know who "The Reaper" is, it's my OC character fron my book "Survivors" which tells the tale of her journey in the apocolypse as she conqueres love, death, and adulthood. So check it out if ya want #idontregretselfpromoting😂)

*Note: This does not follow the storyline from "Survivors" at all so no spoilers here.*
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People call me "The Reaper". Standing fearless at danger, I rose my scythe and slayed the living and the dead. Hidden in a cloak, my identity was a secret to those who've encountered me.  Those who lived the tale pray in my name, pray they don't meet The Reaper again so soon. Those who don't were guided by my careful blade into the afterlife. I was alive when all of this started. And then I was bitten. But, I survived.

"There's the Reaper."
"Hey, Reaper Kid."
"Please don't kill me, Your Deathliness."

The voices....they make me feel pride, feel joy in taking life and death and being the thin margin inbetween the two.

"I'll kill you."

I smiled at the threat.

"Then pull the fucking trigger."

They never do.

Never.

They say "Don't bring a knife to a gun fight." So I brung a scythe.
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Brown eyed girl with a scarred face of many years' survival. Bloodied bandaged eye was her most noticible feature, besides the seven foot scythe dripping coppery oxidied blood. A light grey sweatshirt stained of blood, guts, and bile, held together by shear willpower and duct tape was her stamped trademark. A bit oversized but all the more warm and sustainable. Black leather boots, black sweatpants, common attire in the endworld. She had a look of determination plastered onto her freckled face as she held tightly to the white blood speckled bandana hanging around her neck.

"This is for you, Jason," she mumbled as she firmly grasped her weapon and stared at a community from the tops of a tree. An old boarding school turned into a decently stacked base of survivors. Scanning the terrian, she spots a small red headed child with a bow guarding the enterance as well as another darker toned boy with him, wielding a gun. Looking further into the courtyard, she spots a group of kids sitting around a campire, a few horses being tended to by a red haired girl, and a group of 3 kids sitting on the stairwell. The Reaper pulled on her hood as she climbed down the tree.

"The waiting game is always the hardest part." She sighed as she crept through bushes and around the back of the school. A thick swarm of fog rolled in as she neared the improvised watchtower.
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"IT'S FUCKING FOGGY," the red headed boy yelled as he climbed down.
"I'm going on break," he spoke to the younger boy who took his spot.

"Dammit," I mumbled to myself.
"This would be so much easier with him..." I crept away from the school and returned to the abbandoned cave I called home. Shedding my damp hoodie, I looked at myself in the murky water puddle at my feet. A shell of woman, a dead girl walking.

"Reaper," my voice whispered, echoing throughout the cave. As nightfall fell, a low groans of the undead became audible as a herd passed by my cave. And then it hit me.
I'm The Reaper....if the living fails me, there's always the dead....

"For my Jason," I grabbed my hoodie and pulled on my hood as my face fades and becomes hidden. Clutching my scythe, I stalk the herd. My herd. Shells of humans from a time long forgotten, these beasts plague the world. And I'm their master. These creatures obey me tonight.
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Sneaking amongst the herd is easy when you're covered in the guts of the undead. Rotting flesh and blood odored the air as I sliced the head off of the bulkiest creature in the horde. Covering myself in more guts, I took a rock and began to scrape it against my scythe, attracting the attention of the herd of undead creatures. In the moonlight, a Reaper and her army of souls traveled across the land in hunger and revenge. Revenge of spilt blood. With cover from the fog and darkness, it was almost too simple. Almost.

"WALKER HORDE," a familiar child's voice yelled. I carefully slipped behind in the crowd as gunshots fired off and my undead souls began to wander from my clutches. I looked at the gates as all of this commotion exploded. 3 kids were standing at the gates with fear in their eyes. A blonde, a dreadheaded boy, and then her. I remember her.

"Clementine," I whispered to myself. She looked at the horde and then at her 2 companions before opening the gates wielding guns, bows, and knifes. I smirked as I slipped away from the crowd and into the empty courtyard.
"Alone." Sticking to the shadows, I watched the rest of the kids run out with weapons to tackle my undead army. Alas, the undead were the least of their problems. I was a greater threat than a rotting corpse that can walk. This rotting corspe is vengeful and bloodthirsty. And nothing will tame her bloodlust. Slipping into the boarding school, I stared at the well keptness of the building, far greater and homier than a cave. Walking carefully and quietly, I stalked each room, trying to determine which room held that of Clementine.

"Where the hell did all of those walkers come from," her voice grew louder as she walked closer. I slipped into a room that held many treasures and artifacts from scavenger trips outside these walls. I hid in the closet as she opened her room door.

"Doesn't make any sense, all those walkers," I saw the blonde speak with Clementine.

"Well, it's over. They're gone," Clementine replied as she sat on her bed.
"I'mma go out hunting inna few. Meet me in the courthard in like 5?"

"Yeah, no problem Clem." I heard the door close followed by followed by a sigh. My heart was beating rapidly in my chest, so loudly I feared the girl I was stalking heard. Is that why she went to the closet? Opening the door, she saw me and I wasted no time dealing with her unpreparedness. She was going to scream, she didn't. She couldn't. With one quick motion from my scythe, her head flew off and rolled underneath the bed as her body dropped to my feet, squirting blood all over the floor. Fresh crimson red stained my blade and clothes as I crept the hallways, looking for another kill.

The blonde girl that was fond of Clementine walked the halls back towards her room. The girl that lead the revolution against my community and gotten them all killed. I smirked as I hid behind the trophy cabinet as she reached for the doorknob.

"Why hello," I spoke, startling the girl. She looked me up and down before realizing who I was.

"Reaper," she tried to run but I was much more skillful. I dragged my bladed weapon through her windpipe and slammed the pick of the blade into her skull.
"And goodbye." Blood splattered the hall like a water balloon fight if the balloons contained a pint of blood each. Creeping against the shadows, my bloodlust only grew as I saw the small child Clementine was fond of. The little boy she told to pull the trigger upon mine. Alone he was and a predator I am. Raising the weapon above my head, I slammed it into ground, perfectly splitting the child in half as his guts and organs sloshed and fell from his body. Music flowed through the building and I followed it like a map towards my next victim. The dreadheaded boy that killed my lover. I wanted to make him suffer. Death was too good for him. I scrapped the wall with my scythe and he turned around and saw me.

"YOU," was all he could say before I grabbed him and pinned him against the wall.

"I'mma make you pay," I growled. I cut off his arms switfly and dragged him by his dreadlocks towards the bodied of the other victims.
"You guys have stolen my family," I sighed as I cleaned off my scythe.

"We didn't mean to! HONEST!"

"BULLSHIT," I slit his throat and watched the light fade from his eyes. I stretched and yawn as my bloodlust is sufficied as plant 3 bombs at the gate of the school, setting them off and alerting all undeadly fiends. Without their main 4, this school will die out in a week. And I'll be there to watch it all go down. I smiled as I walked through the herd home as screaming and the tearing of flesh became music to my ears.