The Four Horsemen of Apocalypse

It's time. They are here.


14. It begins.

Famine, a small boy, or at least, in appearances, narrowed his eyes. The figures beneath turned slowly, one by one, to face him. A deep voice emerged from one of them.

"Well one thing hasn't changed." It sounded tired, annoyed and not a little bit afraid. The horseman smiled at it, spreading his hands out to it.

Death! Conquest! War! It is time, once more.


Death raised her head, looking up from her hands. She sat in the old house, thinking. Her horse let out one of it's shrieking neighs. She smiled, blue eyes sparkling in a challenge, before leaping to her feet. She swung onto the spine of her horse, holding out her hand. The scythe appeared and her horse broke into a canter, pelting down the street, toward the edge of the city and beyond.


Conquest sighed. They just didn't get the message. Give them five minutes unmonitored and they'd start attacking. He changed his course, making a wide arc to face the way he came. It would look undignified to simply turn around on the spot. He made his way toward the snow-white horse, patting its muzzle as he mounted.


War's face broke into a grin, she moved gracefully from the sofa, toward the door. Her sword glittered menacingly in its sheath. She picked it up, and let it hang by her side. Her horse was waiting at the door, fire blazing where it stood.


The three horsemen met in the air, exchanging silent greetings before continuing together. Famine stood on the hill as they arrived, tapping his foot impatiently. "You three took your time."

War smiled at him, before looking down at the creatures- the small group had now become a swarm. "I see you've gotten yourself into a spot of trouble."

Death tilted her head, looking at Famine critically. "It's been a while, but you still haven't grown." The boy shot a glare at her.

"That's enough, children. I believe we have some... things... to fight. Now is not the time to be squabbling between ourselves." Conquest, as always, was taking charge. All four immortals readied their weapons, if they had them.

"Well this is going to be fun." This time, a weary look accompanied her words. War looked toward the other three. "I suppose we'll do what we always have, my kin."

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