The Four Horsemen of Apocalypse

It's time. They are here.

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2. -What

What am I doing, I have no idea. I can't control it. It's spread throughout my body. I can't think when I want to and I keep... Killing. I can do nothing but kill, but when I do... The feeling is exhilarating. This sudden urge has swallowed me, as if diving into the deepest of oceans. Deep down I know it's wrong, but I can't stop. It's wonderful. Amazing. I don't want to stop.

She looked upon the couple. They were sitting at the table opposite her. She snorted, before turning away as they mashed their faces together. Not the thing you wanted to see whilst having coffee.

Her eyes wandered, taking in the busy setting of the small shop. The scent of coffee was strong, it filled her nose and spread throughout her body, warming the darkest part of her mind. The table in front of her was a dark, mahogany brown, with matching brown-cushioned stools and chairs. She was perched on one, to the corner of the room, next to the café window and deep purple wall. Somehow, it all fitted together, the colour schemes and everything. A small counter sat near the back, behind which was an array of drinks machines, all making a variety of noises, including one buzzing noise that drove into her head, as if a workman was trying to pry her skull open. It rung through her mind, disturbing her thoughts, delaying the train that needed to be there at the right time, delaying the trains of thought that made her do things. She hated noises like that.

A smile played on the pale lips, the blue eyes flitted towards the outside once again. The streets were lit with early morning light, long rays of white bouncing off every dark, grey building. She breathed in slowly, taking one last breath of coffee, before standing, giving one last look of disgust at the kissing couple, and walking out.

A slight breeze rippled down the high street, picking up her cloak before depositing it almost immediately afterwards. She sighed, watching people steering out of her way before she reached them. The hood that was still draped over her black hair fluttered, wanting to fall from her head. She passed an alley, where thieves were beating someone up. She simply stopped, turning towards them. The thieves whimpered in fear, backing away as fast as possible without making them seem cowardly.

"Making more work for me...?" She called softly, striding over the damp cobbles swiftly. She passed the victim without paying much attention to them. They pressed against the wall, all they could do to keep away from here. She could hear the gulp of fear.

"N-No..." Came the reply, a ridiculously high pitched voice for someone so tall and stocky. The sight before her, of a fairly sturdily built man cowering before a woman, so much younger then him, was quite pathetic. A ghost of a smile spread over her face.

"I think you're lying..." She cooed, shadows stretching across her face, shielding her features.

"W-Why would I- We do that?" He asked, tripping over his words like a toddler walking properly for the first time.

"Because you're scared of me, like everyone else in this simple world." She replied her tone becoming grave. "The question is, why...?" He tried to stand up straight, to try and regain some level of dignity.

"Because you're Death. Who in their right mind wouldn't be scared of Death?" He cried, making it sound obvious. Death smiled.

"I suppose so." She turned towards the street. "Don't think I've not forgotten this. I will be back, and I will make you feel what it is like to be me. Beware, and do not go adding to some random immortal's load." She walked towards the victim, hauling him to his feet and looking up and down him. "You've got years before it's your time. But if I were you I'd stay away from fire." She murmured to him, before walking away and disappearing with a swirl of her cloak.

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