Lady Reaper: Angelbound Origins, #10

By Christina Bauer

Young Myla and Lincoln Kick Ass and Take Names in This Prequel Novella for REAPER GAMES!

A part-demon girl fights Lady Reaper
Myla Lewis is a sixteen-year old part-demon girl who fights evil souls in Purgatory's Arena... and she's always looking out for a good battle against evil. Enter Lady Reaper, the famous ghoulette who wields both a scythe and nefarious intentions. Myla discovers Lady Reaper will soon visit the Demon Woods 'ride' at Purgatory's Annual Lust Festival. Time to visit the fest, kick ass and take names, right? Wrong. Lady Reaper has other plans for Myla and her bestie, Cissy...

A part-angel prince faces the Grim Reaper
Lincoln is a seventeen-year old part-angel prince who protects humans from the denizens of Hell. On a routine trip to Earth, Lincoln uncovers clues that his best friend, Walker, might be allied to an evil ghoul named the Grim Reaper. Things go downhill from there...

***A 20,000-word novella***

Publisher Note: Originally, LADY REAPER was a full novel. However, the author fell ill with COVID and gave us this prequel novella instead. We have since locked Ms. Bauer into the basement with a charger cord, MacBook Pro and carton of Theraflu. Therefore, the full and epic conclusion of this story will definitely be delivered in the next release, REAPER GAMES.
 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Monster House Books
• Release date: Nov 10, 2022
• ISBN: 9781956114058

Christina Bauer

Christina Bauer thinks that fantasy books are like bacon: they just make life better. All of which is why she writes romance novels that feature demons, dragons, wizards, witches, elves, elementals, and a bunch of random stuff that she brainstorms while riding the Boston T. Oh, and she includes lots of humor and kick-ass chicks, too. Christina lives in Newton, MA with her husband, son, and semi-insane golden retriever, Ruby. She loves to connect with her fans at BauersBooks.com.

Book preview

LADY REAPER

ABOUT THE BOOK

Young Myla and Lincoln Kick Ass and Take Names in This Prequel Novella for REAPER GAMES!

A part-demon girl fights Lady Reaper

Myla Lewis is a sixteen-year-old part-demon girl who fights evil souls in Purgatory's Arena... and she's always ready for a good battle against evil. Enter Lady Reaper, the famous ghoulette who wields both a scythe and nefarious intentions. Myla discovers Lady Reaper will soon visit the Demon Woods 'ride' at Purgatory's Annual Lust Festival. Time to visit the fest, kick ass and take names, right? Wrong. Lady Reaper has other plans for Myla as well as her best friend, Cissy...

A part-angel prince faces the Grim Reaper

Lincoln is a seventeen-year-old part-angel prince who protects humans from the denizens of Hell. On a routine trip to Earth, Lincoln uncovers clues that his best friend, Walker, might be allied to an evil ghoul named the Grim Reaper. Things go downhill from there...

Read on for the rest of the story!

GHOUL MINION RECORD

DOMINION - Purgatory

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MINION - Myla Lewis, quasi-demon

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AGE - Sixteen years old

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OVERLORD SUPPORT LEVEL - Low. Ms Lewis does not appreciate ghoul rule. A classic statement: Fuck you, you fucking fucks.

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LIFE FOCUS - Ms Lewis serves ghouls by battling in Purgatory’s Arena. Despite being given the worst demons and evil souls to fight, Ms Lewis keeps not-dying. She recently stated that she hasn’t had a decent match in weeks.

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SUGGESTED COURSE OF ACTION - Someone should ask Ms Lewis to improve her attitude, but it won’t be me.

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Updated by - Ghoul QI7-19

1

MYLA

AGE SIXTEEN

Curling onto our threadbare couch, I hug my bowl of popcorn and brace for the scariest show on Purgatory TV.

Casper the Friendly Ghost.

Mom and I never miss it.

Casper starts in a few minutes. To kill time, I play my demon game. This is like finding shapes in clouds, only I scan my living room for evil outlines. For instance, if I squint, all the mold stains on the walls resemble a horde of satanic jellies. And the zigzag frays in the carpet? Hell snakes.

Since my home realm comes loaded with inspirational decay, I can play this game a ton. I’m scanning smudges on a nearby windowpane when the TV announcer pipes up.

It’s Great Scala time!

That gets my attention.

Purgatory sorts souls into Heaven or Hell, either by trial by jury or trial by combat. If it’s the latter, then I’m one of the fighters who battles evil spirits in Purgatory’s Arena. Once the sorting part is done, the Great Scala’s the only being who can send those souls to their final destination. Life Bonus: every so often, the Great Scala hits the arena and moves ghosts before my eyes.

Long story short, I’ve seen the Great Scala.

A handsome man in a white suit appears on TV. The guy looks like he can bench-press a Mack truck without a spotter.

They can’t be serious.

The announcer speaks again. See the Great Scala!

They’re serious, all right. The TV is pretending that the Great Scala’s a bodybuilder. In reality, he’s an old dude on a stretcher.

On screen, the Fake Scala lifts his arms. Behind him, hundreds of white sheets—supposedly ghosts—are pulled up on ‘invisible’ strings. This counts for special effects in Purgatory. In real life, the Great Scala does raise his wrinkly upper limbs to move souls, but what he summons is a sky-high pillar that’s made from tiny lightning bolts. Igni. It’s way better than what’s on TV.

The announcer continues. "The Great Scala, Maxon Bane, loves his ghoul overlords. You should, too! Adore the undead today and Maxon Bane will give you a happy afterlife tomorrow!"

In other words, love your ghoul overlords or the Great Scala will send you to Hell. Subtle.

My tail pops up. Purgatory is home to quasi demons, meaning we’re mostly human with a little demonic DNA. Every quasi has a tail as well as a power across the seven deadly sins. In my case, my tail’s a long black number covered in dragonscales. My deadly sins are wrath and lust, aka the best of the bunch. Which is why my tail now jabs at the screen with gusto. It hates ghoul rule as much as I do.

I pat the arrowhead-shaped end. Calm down, boy. It pokes away a few more times before slumping to hang by my ankles.

I check our dusty wall clock. Mom! Casper’s almost on.

My mother’s in our kitchen, which is right off the living room. Based on the many rattling noises coming from that direction, she’s assembling our janky food processor in order to make a smoothie. That won’t end well.

Be right in, replies Mom. Mechanical grinding noises echo through the air.

"Almost time to celebrate your best ghoul friend of the day, says the announcer. Who will it be?"

Faces of different ghouls flicker across the screen while a drumroll plays. Total meh. Taking a break from my demon game, I test how much popcorn I can shove in my mouth before it’s no longer possible to close my lips.

My tail pops up to jab my shoulder. I speak through a very full mouth. Wha?

In reply, my tail gestures between itself and the screen. For a few long seconds, I don’t know where it’s going with this. By the time I’ve swallowed, I get what my tail means here.

Ohhhh, I say. "You think you’re my best ghoul friend."

The arrowhead end of my tail wags up and down, which is its way of says, Hells, yeah.

I appreciate the thought, but there are two reasons why you’re wrong.

My tail arcs back, shocked.

"First, you’re part of me. So, that doesn’t really count as a friend. And second, you’re not a ghoul. It’s the best ghoul friend of the day."

The arrowhead-end of my tail points to the ceiling in a gesture that’s the equivalent of someone lifting their chin and saying, how rude. My tail then bobs over to ‘sit’ on a stretch of couch beside me. The arrowhead-end twists so that I only see a thin line versus the full shape.

I’m getting the silent treatment.

Time’s up! says the announcer. Your ghoul friend of the day is… Lady Regina Reaper!

Before me, another ghoul appears onscreen. Lady Regina Reaper is an undeadly with pale skin, all-black eyes, a tiny top hat, and a fitted Victorian dress. She holds a slender scythe. The cutting blade arches over her head.

It may be a cool weapon, but that scythe is wasted on Lady Reaper. I’ve fought ghouls before. The undead have the muscle tone of wet noodles and an overwhelming instinct to flee.

The announcer keeps going. Back in 1857, the Great Scala fell ill. No souls could move from Purgatory to Heaven or Hell. Together with her husband, Grim, Lady Regina Reaper saved the day. The speaker adds a lot more blah blah blah about the Reapers; I don’t pay attention. Seeing a first-class weapon like that scythe in the hands of a ghoul is just too depressing.

The announcer finishes. Be like Lady Reaper. Help those you love, who are, of course, ghouls.

Um, no. Other than my honorary older brother Walker, I don’t give a crap about