All Chapters of DAIMON: "The Reaper's Diary": Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

Paige POV I hid myself under my bed. My stepfather was looking for me. He smells drunk again. He always does this to me whenever he loses his senses because of alcohol. My nerves were shaking in fear of him. In times like this, bitter memories covers me again. Seven years ago, he began to molest me. I tried to tell it with my mother, but she chose not to believe me at all. Also, my stepfather warned me that if I do something stupid, he would kill my mother and the rest of my siblings. His face gave me horror. I grew up in Tondo, Manila. My parents were divorced when I was four years old. My dad left us for another woman. It saddened me to my deepest core, but I tried to accept everything wholeheartedly. I was doing fine until my mother decided to remarry again to her childhood friend. Who am I to stop my mother? I wish nothing for her but happiness and a long life. From the very start, I really did not like my stepfather. He looked devilish to me, but then, I had to resp

CULLEN’s POV The rain poured heavily. The dark clouds loomed above, seething with fury. I sipped my bittersweet coffee as the Death Note on my desk began to glow faintly. I reached out and took it in my hand. An unfamiliar name appeared, along with the details of death. “Clark Stephen Daniel,” I muttered with a sigh. “Your time has come. I’m coming to collect,” I whispered, my voice void of warmth. It was time to reap his soul. The details were clear—he would die tonight, inside a nightclub. I drove my black Mercedes into the night, heading toward the scene. You see, I am still human—flesh and bone, not spirit. I don’t know why. That’s just what I am. But one thing I know: my blood runs cold, and colder still is my heart. Emotionless. Silent. I eat only to maintain this hollow shell. Hunger is foreign to me. I simply preserve what remains of this vessel—this empty frame that walks between the living and the dead. PAIGE’S POV Shaking in fear, I realized the dilemma I was in.

Cullen’s Pov I had just arrived home. It was 2 a.m., the dead hour. For the first time in countless decades of being a Reaper, I felt... confused. Not from the souls I took. Not from the underworld’s silence. But from her. As I stepped into my quiet, cold home, a divine presence swept through the room. I didn't need to turn around—I already knew who it was. Thanatos. “What have you done?” he asked, his voice low but seething with restrained anger. “Tell me, Cullen, did I ever lack in instructing you?” His eyes now met mine—furious, glowing faintly like embers ready to ignite. I opened my mouth, but no words came out. Even I couldn’t explain myself. I sank into the sofa, staring blankly at the dark horizon outside my window. The stillness of the night was heavy, suffocating. “You’ve altered the path of the dead,” Thanatos continued, his voice sharper now. “You’ve disappointed me.” His words pierced me, but I stayed silent. “If you keep going down this path, you know what will

PAIGE’S POV: My heart skipped a beat the moment he said I could stay. Not just that—we’re going shopping today. I assumed groceries… but then again, with him, everything feels unpredictable. I glanced at the suitcase I’d haphazardly packed, now lying open at the foot of the bed like a box of forgotten dreams. My breath caught. Nothing in there screamed winter. In fact, nothing screamed ready at all. I only had five pairs of clothes, most of which were for warmer weather. My sandals? One strap broke yesterday. I’d been making do with thin slippers ever since. I stood still, staring at my limited choices. I guess this is it. No time for shame. I slipped into my worn denim jeans and a gray long-sleeved top, the fabric stretched and faded from too many washes. I looked at myself in the mirror and sighed. The sleeves were too short. My hair was unbrushed. I didn’t just feel unprepared—I looked it. Still, I had no choice but to own what I had. I tugged the sleeves down as far as t

CULLEN’S POV The snow was falling harder now, thick and relentless. Visibility was getting worse, but I didn’t care—I was driving as fast as I could. Worry clawed at my chest, tightening with every second. Guilt, too. A heavy kind that sat in my stomach like a stone. I should’ve protected her. I should’ve never let her walk out that door. What the hell was she thinking—going out in this storm? Was she crazy? Did she want to get herself killed? My mind spun with frantic thoughts as I gripped the steering wheel tighter. I opened the CCTV app again. Still nothing. The house was empty. Where did she go? I scanned the roadside every few seconds, hoping—desperately—that I’d catch a glimpse of her figure through the snow. But no. No sign of her. I was almost home. Still nothing. Still no Paige. “Paige,” I murmured, barely hearing my own voice over the storm and the sound of my racing thoughts. Then suddenly—like a wave crashing into my mind—a vision flashed before my eyes. I saw m