The Four Horsemen of Apocalypse

It's time. They are here.


6. --Are

Are we all just pieces in some giant chess game? The conquest that rules the land simply enslaves us all. Surely we are not doing this of free will? I feel separated from everyone else, my own family claims not to know me. If one of you finds this, please, please, tell me what I did wrong. Everyone I know is ignoring me, and my own wife shrieked when I tried to talk to her. What is happening to me?

Conquest had been walking for a while now. Night had fallen with it's dark cloak, not unlike Death's. He rounded a corner, and came face to face with a group of teenagers- youths. He came to a halt, watching them carefully. As a new bout of laughter rung through the group, one noticed him. The boy nudged those around him, before all were watching Conquest menacingly. The man sighed, checking around the street for witnesses. No one.

"Oi!" The boy called. He had dusty blond hair and was wearing a dark hoodie. His face was engulfed by the orange glow from the streetlight. "You, baldy!" He yelled. Conquest smiled.

"You mean me?" He said. Another laugh escaped the girl standing next to him. A few sniggers rippled through.

"Yeah, you! Shouldn't you be sitting at home? This is our territory, and we don't take kindly to visitors." Conquest grinned. The teenager's mouth fell from a smile to a frown. "Are you not scared?" He called, slightly uncertain. Conquest almost laughed.

"Why ever would I be scared...?" He chuckled, his piercing green eyes not wavering from the youth's own.

A confused muttering rippled through the gang. "Uhhh..." He stuttered, loosing faith in himself.

"Why would I be scared, when I can do things like... This...?" Conquest said, a smile in his voice as he smashed the windows of the unoccupied house beside the group without even touching them.

Gasps were emitted by a fair number, and one even turned and fled. The leader of the group backed away, staring at Conquest, trying to be brave. "I-I'm not scared of you!" He cried. "None of us are!"

The clop of hooves beating stone pavement reached their ears, and a clean white stallion rounded the corner, rearing, before trotting to his master's side. Conquest heaved himself up onto the horse's back, patting its flank lovingly. "You should be. You really, really should be." As he said it, Conquest's clothes changed, turning into rich reds and purples, as if he were a long-dead, medieval king. He looked down at them, anger filling his eyes. "You should be scared of us all."

Three dark figures appeared beside him, each holding their own sort of weapon. You couldn't make out any detail of them, they were like silhouettes. The first, to his right, appeared to have a cloak, and a long-handled scythe. The one beside Death had long curling hair, and held a long sword. Its horse's mane seemed to be on fire. Curling, blackness like tongues of flame. The last, to Conquest's left had a thin horse, and was holding dark, shadowy scales up in the air.

The teenagers scattered in fear, and the leader backed away as fast as he could, before turning and running for his life. Conquest smiled with satisfaction, the three figures beside him disappeared into a sort of mist, and he nudged his horse on. If one were to listen closely, they would have heard a brief conversation between horse and rider.

"You really didn't need to do that..." The horse muttered, as if scolding its master.

"I know, I know."

"So why do it?"

"They needed showing. They really did."

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