The Four Horsemen of Apocalypse

It's time. They are here.


5. -Who

Who would rule a land like this? Who would send every man, woman and child into battle like this? Surely no one would... Surely... I'm not sure what's happening, but I get these visions. These visions of a... king? He rules over his land unfairly, Taking all land around it, starting many wars. Then I'm shown him enforcing his laws. Conquest.

He chuckled, leaning back in his chair, resting his feet on the table. A woman sat in front of him, grinning almost manically. Her hair was bright red, almost like fire itself. The pair watched each other for a while, before her face became deathly calm, and she stood up, nodding a silent farewell. He watched, standing up, and watched her lift up something long and strangely pointed, before she exited the room. Listening, he waited. When the telltale sound of the front door shutting reached his ears, he walked to the window. Red hair bobbing up and down was all he could see. He smiled to himself, before moving into the next room. A dirty sink stood in one corner, flanked by filthy counters and a powerless fridge. Opposite were drawers and an oven. The floor was an assortment of smashed tiles and bare concrete, with a thick layer of dust disturbed only by a small trail worn by his footsteps. The man sighed, striding swiftly into the next room- a hallway linked to both the living room, kitchen and dining room. To his left was a carpeted staircase, the deep red, which would have earned the approval of some of his closer... friends, was slight faded, and, like most of the furniture, carpeted with more dust. A few dead plants littered the floor, along with bits of broken wood, polished to gleam. To his right was a door with peeling paint- the back door. The layout of his house surprised him, which was one of the reasons he chose it. But that was years ago, and now it had fallen into a horrid state, everything broken and in need of a clean. But the only guests he ever had didn't mind. He turned towards the back door and wrenched it open, with a little too much force than what was needed. He closed it behind him, and straightened his cuffs, fixed his tie and buttoned up his jacket. The others said his liking for suits was unnecessary, and that he simply wasted time. He disagreed, of course, and preferred looking his best no matter what the occasion. It added a little something, and made him more noticeable. The two women didn't need much, they were easily recognized. Even the other man in the group was fairly well known. It was him that was different. He smiled faintly. It came as both a blessing and a curse. He could walk among humans without them suspecting anything. After all, who would be scared of or worried about someone who looked like him. The man continued on, following the path that led from the door down into the street behind his house. He looked up at it, listening to the creaks of old timber. The small porch outside the back was slightly broken, and looked almost like a mouth with teeth. Some of the windows near the top were smashed, after stones had been pelted at them earlier in its life. He took in the battered appearance of his house in in a few seconds, before continuing along the street and away.

Later, as the moon was rising, he heard hooves. He turned expectantly, as the horse and rider faded into existence. He sighed as he noticed that both were skeletal.

"So what was it this time, Death?" He called, as the horse neighed at him. Removing her hood, Death looked down at him, tilting its head to one side. The empty eye sockets looked at him in what seemed to be a questioning way. If that was possible. He shook his head, tutting. "You know what I'm talking about, what, with the bones and skull and everything." The young woman crossed her arms.

"It's none of your business, Conquest." She growled, her blue eyes regarding him with annoyance.

Conquest shrugged. "If you say so." He looked at her horse warily, as it stared simply into the space before it. "So what brings you here?" He asked, looking back up at her.

She smiled slightly. "Am I not allowed to visit my... friends?" She inquired.

He grinned back at her. "Maybe, maybe not." He became serious. "It's amazing how much the world has changed."

She shrugged. "It hasn't changed that much, since I became... me."

Raising an eyebrow, he shifted to another foot, slightly uncomfortable. "It has changed greatly since I was born." He looked at her carefully. "You know, I still regard you as a younger sibling..."

Death rolled her eyes. "I just think of you as someone immensely annoying." She muttered, becoming distracted for a moment.

"Something crop up?" He asked.

She shrugged. "Business calls..."

Conquest nodded. "You'd better attend, then." She nodded to him, before replacing her hood on her head, and nudging the skeletal horse onwards. It snorted, rearing upwards, before taking off at a canter, sending Death's cloak flying out behind her. He watched her go, and waited until she had turned the corner before setting off again.

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