Hello all! This is my first fanfic that I have actually worked on A LOT! I've tried to make it good, and I've gotten done with several of the first chapters already, but my main goal is to try to make this story longer than a novella (over 17,500 words). It's pretty slow moving in the beginning, so bear with me for the first few chapters or so. Also, this is meant to be a mixture of comedy, action/adventure, drama, romance; pretty much everything but sci-fi and horror. Also, this story is based around the Christian religion at points, so don't get pissed at me if your beliefs are different than mine. Lastly, I'm gonna avoid putting these things at the start, because it's gonna make it hard for me to add up the total words of the story. Lastly, please make sure any reviews you have aren't mean. If you're gonna criticize me, then make it constructive. Praise is always welcome though.

Chapter 1

My name is Peter and I'm 15. I have grey hair (dyed) and grey eyes (apparently a birth defect, but it looks badass). I live in Washington (or at least, I did). I lived near an apple orchard, to be exact. That's obviously where I worked (it may have had shit pay, but it's better than having to walk 2 hours to get to my workplace). It was also my families. My brother and I were the only ones left to do the actual work, whereas my father had a spinal condition so he couldn't do anything relatively strenuous. There's one thing I never liked about my brother, and that is that he is too judgmental. I failed one grade and he had given me the nickname "dumbass" for about 3 years. He labeled me as gay when I told him I was a brony. Due to the stress all his judgment caused me, I developed a case of generalized epilepsy. After a while the epilepsy died down though. Regardless, I never did much in my life. I there were only 2 things that could relieve me of some of my pain: MLP, and hunting in Alaska. Though, one year, the hunting wasn't so good.

We do it every year because our cousin is a hunter, but this was the last year I was ever able to do it. It's about 48 hours to Alaska by car from where we were, so it was a decent length trip to make with my brother (the only one of us who had a car and a license). We would always have a good time hunting with my cousin Steven. The only major problem we ever had was we had to bring our own guns. I managed to raise enough money to buy a .338 cal hunting rifle so I used that, but the one weird thing was, my brother and Steven would carry knives, but I would carry a scythe. Don't ask me why, I just liked having something heavier than a tiny knife for close combat. Made me feel safer, I guess.

As you should know, there are wolves in Alaska. It was late winter and we were at my cousin's favorite hunting spot. We saw a pack of wolves emerge from the bushes. There were at least 10 of them. My cousin told us to keep low. Right as he said that, the biggest buck he had ever seen came out of bushes on the opposite side from the wolves.

"Shit!" Steve mumbled. "I can't let those wolves get to that buck! It'll have enough meat for months!"

"Can't we kill the wolves?" I asked, hoping not to be asking a stupid question.

"One does not simply kill a pack of wolves," (if you get that reference, have a cookie) he sighed. "If you can do so at super speed then maybe."

"I have this scythe. Would it help at all?" I suggested.

"I guess you can try, but be careful. Those wolves look damn hungry."

"Since when am I never careful?" I chuckled as I looked through the scope. I had my shot perfectly aligned to take out 2 of them, but when I fired, they both hit the deck and the bullet whizzed right over them. I fired again, hitting one in the hip, but only injuring it. "Well, it looks like I'm not going to get anywhere by just shooting at them." I whipped out my scythe and charged the wolves while Steve got a clean shot on the buck which had been paralyzed in fear.

I was able to get my scythe into 2 or 3 of them before I started to get completely mauled. After about a minute, I blacked out, waking up hours later in my cousins cabin.

"Finally awake," he sighed. "I was able to get the wolves off of you long enough to pick you up and sprint here."

"Okay," I wheezed, out of breath. I looked down at my chest. Sure enough, it was completely cut up and was bleeding an unusual amount.

"By the way, Pete, that scar looks totally badass." Steve said. I was confused. Apparently, he could see my confusion because he held up a mirror to reveal to me a scar across my right eye. It was something you would find out of a movie. It had a perfect lightning bolt shape somehow. "Looks like The Reaper ain't goin' down without a fight, huh?" he laughed.

"Wait, you called me The Reaper?" I said, confused.

"Your scythe, Pete; It makes you look like the Grim fucking Reaper!" he pointed out. "Now I got to go get that dead buck and carry him back here." I thought for a moment. He only beat off the wolves. They probably went after the dead buck now and they definitely know my brother as an enemy now so… I got up, ignoring the slight light-headed feeling I had from blood loss.

As soon as I found the hunting area, I saw Steve getting attacked by the wolves. I grabbed the scythe slung over my shoulder and slid the gun back there. I charged as fat as I could. As soon as the wolves saw me, they turned their attention straight to me. I was able to kill of another 2 of them before one of them tore open my chest enough to see the muscle. I was bleeding out on the ground when Steve somehow killed the remaining 5 of them with his dinky combat knife.

"You didn't have to do that you know," he said, ready to cry.

"You deserve to live more than I do," I croaked, my vision slightly blurry.

"You're too young to die"

"It doesn't matter anymore… I'm just asking one thing," I said quietly. "Remember me as The Reaper."

"You want me to put you out," he sighed. I nodded slowly.

He held up his gun, taking aim at my head. "Any last words?" he said, now crying.

"In the words of Jimmy "The Rev" Sullivan, I need another chance to live." As the final word faded off into the cold air, the bullet was fired. I didn't feel a thing.

I opened my eyes and I was in a white room. I slowly stood up as I noticed that there was a man in glasses approaching me. I suddenly realized it was The Rev.

"You quoted me?" he asked, smiling.

"How did you know?!" I said.

"I heard you… and so did the big man." My eyes widened. "He says that it would be fair if you had another chance to live. After all, really all you did in life was watch YouTube, go to school and pick apples." I nodded, acknowledging what he had said.

"So where am I being reborned?" I asked curiously.

"You're a brony right?" I nodded. "Well, then you should know where you're going."