THE REAPER: How Reaper became Reaper

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The Reaper A look into the past of Satan’s Sons’ most heartless member. Simone Elise The Reaper

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The Full Story.

The Reaper

A look into the past of Satan’s Sons’

most heartless member.

Simone Elise

The Reaper

A Short Story

You are given lessons in life. I learned quickly that I wouldn’t stand by and be told what to do. I wouldn’t accept that I had to meet other people’s standards. At an early age, it became clear to me that I wouldn’t meet what society wanted of me.

My mom always called me heartless, just because I felt nothing for anyone or anything. I didn’t love my parents. I couldn’t think of one thing on this earth I loved. Mom realized when I was young that I didn’t act like a normal child. I didn’t play. I didn’t have an imagination. I spent my time pulling things apart and putting them back together.

I showed emotion once. Just once, and that’s how I ended up in here for four years. Juvenile detention center. I didn’t even know that I had any emotion in me to show to begin with, but as soon as Dad’s fist connected with Mum’s jaw, something snapped in me.

Before I knew it, I had him on the ground and I was just punching and punching. I had never felt so much rage. It wasn’t like I loved my mother; I didn’t love anything. But something inside me wanted to protect her.

So I ended up punching him nearly to the point of an early death. Wouldn’t be a bad thing if he died early. I would be saving the world from an abusive drunk. He didn’t benefit the world - then again, neither did I.

Like the prick he was, he pressed charges and I ended up getting four fucking years in here.

I was eighteen at the end of the month and I would have been transferred to prison if it weren’t for my sentence ending a week before my birthday.

My mum stayed with my prick of a father and hadn’t visited me once. Not that it really bothered me. I felt more for one of my car motors than I did her.

Why I even reacted when he hit her was beyond me. Normally, I kept a tight lid on my temper. But that night, I snapped. I let an emotion overcome me and I can honestly say it won’t happen again.

I didn’t feel, I didn’t love and I sure as fuck didn’t have emotions.

I walked into the bathroom block. I was always up earlier than everyone else. I didn’t sleep much. I got five hours and then I was up. I didn’t need much sleep to function. I was always sharp. I was always ready for whatever was coming my way.

I had kept a low profile in here. Stayed out of people’s way. And for some reason, people stayed out of my way. I think it was because I was double the size of the normal teenager. I was taller than most, broad shoulders and I took pride in my fitness.

The only fucking thing to do in here was exercise, and I had made it my goal to lift more each time I went for a weight session.

I heard a grunt from around the corner and I frowned. Normally, no one was up before me.

I dropped my shit at one of the sinks and rounded the corner.

I knew what was happening with one glance. Three boys against one. I knew them, they were involved in a gang. I stayed clear of the gangs and clubs in here; kept to myself.

Two guys were holding the kid while the other laid punch after punch on him.

If they were just beating him, I wasn’t getting involved. But when I saw the sharp melted plastic I knew that this wasn’t just a beating; they planned on this kid bleeding out once they had finished with him.

I didn’t know why, but for some reason, I wasn’t going to accept this kid dying. So I did something I never did - I got involved. I pulled back the boy holding the sharp melted plastic knife with which they were planning on stabbing the kid.

“What the fuck, man?” The kid, who was rather slim, had poorly-done tattoos that told me he was involved with a gang. He looked and sounded set on making sure the boy died at his hand.

“Leave him alone.” I glanced at the kid, who didn’t look older than thirteen.

“What are you doing, Kade? You never get involved.” One of the boys, who was holding the kid up, said something everyone knew. I cringed at the use of my name. I hated my name - especially when it was said out loud.

“Yeah, well I am now.” I crossed my arms. “Leave the kid.”

“You protecting him?” The kid that I knew as Mark, who was of slim build and had been the one punching that poor kid earlier, asked me.

I thought about it for a second. Didn’t fucking know why I was going to, but I was. “Yeah, I am. You got a problem with him, you have one with me.” I looked from Mark to the kid. “So fuck off before I teach you boys to respect your elders.”

I was older than them, bigger than them and I sure as fuck could take on all three and win.

They looked at each other before the two holding the kid up dropped him and he slumped to the floor.

“Didn’t take you as a Satan’s Son, but now we know where your blood lies, don’t expect us to accept it.” Mark said - something that made no sense. I wasn’t involved in any biker club, I wasn’t a Satan’s Son.

I looked at the kid on the ground. Clearly, I had just got involved in something bigger than just saving his life. I wanted to groan. I didn’t want to get involved in a gang war.

“Threaten me all you want Mark, but you know I’ll take you out in a heartbeat.” I pushed them out of the way. “Now fuck off.”

The three of them left us in the bathroom block. I heard the door swing shut.

I sighed and lowered to my knees, just as the kid sat up.

The kid, who I hadn’t seen before, looked me in the eye. I saw the tattoo on his neck, a one percent logo. He was part of a motorcycle group, one that didn’t follow the law. He stood as an outlaw and he would be dead if I hadn’t stopped Mark.

“You know, I never thought a citizen would save my life.” The kid leaned back against the wall, letting out a slight moan of pain. “What side you on?”

“What do you mean?”

“Where does your blood lie?” He wanted to know which gang I was a part of. Everyone in here was either involved in a gang or criminal group, or protected by one.

“I’m clean,“ which meant I was neither involved nor protected.

The kid smirked. “Well, you aren’t now.”

I stood up and helped him to his feet. I didn’t know what he meant by that. Just cause I saved him didn’t mean I would be joining him on his suicide mission and getting involved in any gang.

“Can you walk?” I asked.

“Yeah, but it fucking hurts.” He groaned. “So your blood is really clean? How do you survive in here unprotected?”

That was a good question. All the boys grouped together to protect themselves. I could handle anyone that had a problem with me. I didn’t need other men behind me. I didn’t need anyone to stand up for me. I was capable of all that on my own.

“Well, I’m guessing you are meant to be protected, but you were about to die anyway.” I said as we walked back to the sinks.

“Yeah, well, the King is always targeted.”

I didn’t understand what he meant by that and I frowned.

“My dad is the founder of Satan’s Sons. I’m the King because I’ll take over from him. People think that if they wipe me out, they will cut off the Satan’s Sons’ future. I’m meant to be the King of the Underworld,“ he explained.

“How old are you?”


Five years younger than me and he had so much more to deal with than I did. Being given a title like ‘King’ is a hell of a lot to handle.

“Thirteen and already got a death warrant on your head,” I muttered and went back to my stuff.

“You know I owe you my life now, right?” The kid, whose name I still didn’t even know, said as I picked up my towels.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Nah mate, you saved me, and I’m going to return the favor.”

What he didn’t know was that I didn’t need saving. I didn’t need anything. I was cold. I was heartless and I liked it. I didn’t love anyone and I sure as fuck would never need help - I could always handle whatever situation I got into by myself.


Jackson Johnston. The King of the Underworld. I had been unaware of who I was saving in the bathroom block.

Jackson - or Jax, as he keeps telling me to call him - looked down in disgust at the food.

“This shit should be illegal.” He grumbled and stabbed the thing they called a meal. “I swear it’s their mission to starve us in here.”

I had soon realized that that morning, where he had been cornered in the bathroom, wouldn’t happen again. Even now, as I looked around the tables, members of his motorcycle club were watching, waiting to act if needed.

Jax and I had a table to ourselves. No one dared to sit next to me and it would seem no one dared to sit next to the King, either.

But everyone was aware of Jax’s movements. His protection guarded his cell - which turned out to be my cell as well, when he got moved into it in the middle of the night, kicking out the guy I had shared with for years.

I think he was delighted with the fact he could now keep me up. In fact, he had been making it his mission to not stop talking. Didn’t take him as a talker, but he sure as fuck wouldn’t shut up at night.

He didn’t talk to anyone else. If anything, he looked down at all the guys who followed him blindly, ready to protect him, ready to die for him - something he just expected of them.

“You get out tomorrow, yeah?” Jax said, dropping his fork into his untouched lunch.

“Yeah.” I still didn’t have a fucking clue what I was going to do. I had no money. No life to return back to. I was better off stabbing someone in here and getting sent to prison. At least then I wouldn’t be worrying about where I was going to sleep at night.

“You know I still got to pay you back for saving my life.” Jax again brought up the topic that I usually just shrugged off. Wasn’t a big deal. If anything, I was happy to help him. He seemed like a good kid at heart. Just because he was labeled as the King didn’t mean he deserved to die.

“Like I said, don’t worry about it.”

“I made a phone call.”

I frowned. “So?” I didn’t see why he would tell me that.

“Dad’s got this position going. And I think you would be perfect for it.”

My frown deepened. “I’m not a nine-to-five kind of guy.” That was putting it nicely. I didn’t follow the law. Simple. That’s why I was in here, because I didn’t care about breaking the rules. I didn’t see that it was the wrong thing to do to start punching Dad. He deserved it.

But even if he didn’t deserve it, there hadn’t been much stopping me from punching him to begin with. My temper was always boiling and I didn’t value doing the right thing.

Jax smirked. “You saved my life and I’ve got something to offer you in return.”

“You don’t owe me anything.”

“Dad and I have both agreed on this.”

“Do I get a say?”

“Since you saved me, your blood started to lie with Satan’s Sons. You know all about us. I’ve told you everything you need to know.”

Was that the purpose of him keeping me up every night telling me all about the club? Suddenly, I was feeling like it was. It had all been leading up to this moment.

“Dad is waving the prospect stage and putting you right onto earning and serving.”

“I don’t know much about clubs or gangs, but isn’t the whole purpose of the prospect stage to see if I’m trustworthy?”

Jax cracked a grin. “You saved my life. That gives you a free pass.”

I still didn’t understand what he was trying to get out. Was he offering me a part in his club? I never saw myself joining an outlaw club. Because, well, I never followed rules, and even outlaws had some rules they didn’t like to be broken.

“If you are worried about the laws of the club, let’s just say that in the position we are offering you, you won’t be answering to anyone,” Jax added. “The only one you answer to is me. You won’t even have to answer to Presidents. But they will be counting on you.”

I looked at him a bit harder. He was serious right now.

“You are heartless. You are devoted. You are everything needed for this position.” Jax pushed his plate away. “Dad’s going to be waiting for you in the morning. He wants to offer it to you personally.”

“How does me being heartless factor into anything?” Many people saw my heartlessness as a weakness, but the way Jax just said it, it was like he was seeing it was a strength - as if he was counting on my heart being cold.

Jax just gave me another grin that answered my question. My heartlessness was a strength.


I never saw myself walking out of here. Always saw myself as being permanently behind bars, because I didn’t deserve to live freely. I knew I wouldn’t contribute to anybody’s life. If anything, I had skill in destroying other people’s lives.

I had gone in a boy four years ago. The gate swung open and I walked out a man. The center had proved to me that I wasn’t capable of loving or feeling. But I was calculating, cold and heartless - and I really didn’t care that I wasn’t like everyone else.

Jax had told me his old man would be outside for me. I didn’t know how I felt about possibly getting involved in a motorcycle club.

I spotted him immediately. Leaning against a motorbike, standing like he was waiting for me.

He looked at me with a smile on his face. “You must be Kade.”

I cringed. Fuck, I hate my name - but I nodded my head, confirming who I was.

He grabbed something off the bike and threw it at me. I caught it automatically. I’d come in here with nothing, so it wasn’t like I was carrying anything now. I looked at the vest. I had seen them on bikers before, but had never touched one.

My eyes ran over the patches. A one percent. A northern charter. And a name across the heat of the vest, The Reaper.

I looked back at him. “You want me to join?”

“Nah kid, you already have joined. You and my son are the only members not to have to go through a prospect stage.” He gestured for me to turn my vest around.

I looked at the back of it and saw the writing and logo. It was offering me a home.

“You are going to be my Reaper.” He stepped towards me. “I need a man who is not scared to get bloody and loyal enough to follow through on what I need done - what the clubs need done.”

“You want me to kill people?”

He nodded his head with a smirk on his face. “Jax said you were smart. Yeah, it may come to that. I need someone cutting off my loose ends. But not just that. I need an enforcer, someone that will serve justice.”

“And what if I get caught?”

“That won’t happen; I have connections to keep you free from the law.”

He was offering me something, and I didn’t have a purpose. “So what do I do?”

“The Reaper wipes out any threat to our clubs. The first thing I need you to do is to go against what I normally stand for, and join another club which is threatening our mother charter.”

“So you want me to be a member of yours but join another?” I somehow linked together what he was saying.

“The Widows. They are giving our Mother Charter President, Roach, a headache. I want you to join them, and help us patch them over.”

“I’d be going into this blind. I don’t know the rules.”

“That’s what I’m counting on. Don’t want you following rules. I want you breaking them. So, Reaper, are you ready for it?”

Reaper. I always hated my name and here he was giving me a new one.

“So, invade the club, patch it over” – which I knew meant to turn the club into a Satan’s Son charter – “and then you are giving me a license to kill?”

“Jax was right, you are switched on.” He put out a hand. “Welcome to the brotherhood, Reaper.”

Just like that, I was given a real family. One that would stand by me, when I made good decisions and bad.

He had just handed me something I was more than capable of doing.

And so I exited the juvenile detention center, not as Kade, but as Reaper. I didn’t know I was about to start a bloody and complicated life, but at the same time, it promised me more than I ever expected my life to be.

As I straddled the bike he had brought me, I started my existence as The Reaper - and everyone was counting on my heart staying cold in order for me to do my job.

And there was never anything or anyone who could make me feel something. Because when it came down to it, I didn’t have a heart. I wasn’t capable of loving. But I was capable of being The Reaper.

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