The End is the Beginning

[LoneDigger]

He existed ever since the first flicker of life sparkled across the universe; he would cease existing whenever -if ever- the last living creature drew its last breath.

He was Life's opposite, the Feared one, the Eldest Horseman, the end of Hope and all the possibilities, he was the one that couldn't be avoided, the Ancient One, he was Everywhere.

 

He had welcomed cities, and whole universes in his arms, demons, and angels, and even gods.

Sometimes, he felt the heavy burden threatening his mind; how could he not? Sometimes, although only briefly, he wished that he could stop being Death, even for a brief moment.

But was that even possible?

There had been another Death before him, and another would follow afterwards, but in a way, he would still be Death.

 

Long ago -very, very long ago; before the universe was even created- there was another Death. The current Death was like a different version of that one, and probably others would follow when he retired. Or whatever happened that could make him stop being what he was.

 

Once he even had foolish ideas, foolish questions; like, for instance, when you are Death, is it possible to die? If yes, who is the one that will take your soul?

But those useless quests had faded inside the creature's mind since millenia ago. Probably much to his "family's" relief. Death could not see his brothers as a real family. Strangers that share a space in the universe, strangers who have to get along and sometimes work side by side... now that was a more accurate description.

Though there was only one reason to bring the four horsemen to work side by side.. the end of everything. The Apocalypse.

 

Deep inside, Death knew that it was coming.

It made his skin tingle.

He made a few stops in his way; he took the lives of old people who sometimes greeted him as an old friend and sometimes feared him; he took the lives of unborn children who had not yet experienced the ugliness and the beauty of their world; he took the lives of the sick and the healthy; of animals and plants. His hands were simply bones without skin and they were sheer cold when he took his gloves off and touched them.

 

Everybody was going to feel that cold touch eventually. Everybody.

But with every life he took, Death only felt more isolated. More... sad, if one could say that Death had feelings.

He did not ask for that.

And there were still so many wonders in the world, especially on Earth. After millions of years, and he still hadn't grown the slightest bit bored of it. How could it end so fast?

 

He knew though; he knew that this was the Beginning of the End; Heaven and Hell were at war, once again.

The Apocalypse was near. It had already begun.

[Cyncii]

Famine could remember it clearly - his own death. It played over and over in his head like some broken record, like his past was there to haunt him, to destroy him. He could feel himself withering away by the minute, though he knew quite well that he would be feeling this tortured for eternity.

 

The boy's mother was the light at the end of the tunnel it seemed, in that shithole he'd called his home country. He couldn't remember her name let alone his own, or even the name of the town he was trapped in the entirety of his human life. All Famine could remember was that she was there for him, holding his hand in hers even through the darkest of times. She'd gifted him her meals, starving herself while giving her only son the chance to live.

Little did she know that Famine would take him as well.

 

What if Death told him that his "darkest times" would be huddling up to his mother's corpse for warmth over the night? Would he have told him that he would have to consume her flesh when he'd given up on begging? The greed of humanity was immeasurable - Famine could not recall the last time someone took pity on him and his mother and spared a single coin.

"Someone must be feeding them if they survived this long. How selfish of them to think they can rip more food away from someone else."

Bullshit. He wouldn't have been out on the streets if his mouth was stuffed full of bread. His dying breath was saturated with envy and hatred for the living.

 

He'd awakened in some strange, hellish place with no memories of past events other than the excruciatingly accurate details of his death. The fact that he was thin as a rail did not change, either. He appeared... underdeveloped, if that was a word someone could use on him.

One thing was one hundred percent clear, however - he was afraid.

 

Famine was uncertain how he ended up in this situation, running for his life for a second time but for an entirely different reason. A monster was chasing him, hunting him, possibly to devour him. Its appearance was akin to an especially monstrous chimera - hideous with a greed for blood.

 

As to be expected, Famine's human feet could not outpace a raging, ravenous animal. He had ended up on the underside of the beast's front left paw, with its dirty, sharp claws threatening to dig into the flesh of his neck and back. Famine could feel a few stray tears fall down his cheek to hit the cold floor below him.

 

This was not how he wanted to go.

[LoneDigger]

He was everywhere. Despite standing at his home, listening to old records at that very moment, he was also in the last breath of a dog suffering from a fatal disease at a veterinarian's office in the next city as he performed euthanasia to spare the animal from the pain.

He was in a hospital where a mother screamed and cried for her child that was killed in a car accident.

He was in the battlefields where hundreds and thousands came to him. And he took them all, one by one.

He was in the small insect that someone accidentally stepped on.

He was in the roots of a myrtle that was being chopped off because someone wanted to build there a house instead.

He was in a starving, boney child in Africa, under the blazing sun.

He was in the lioness that was dying from old age, surrounded by her children and grandchildren.

He was in the air, in the water.

Everywhere.

He was the one that cannot be avoided, the Other, the one that everyone would meet in the end.

He was Death, and that was what he did.

 

...

 

The third horseman had entered purgatory. And Death had already been by his side and inside his mother, and then inside him too when the male had also subcome to his cold touch.

Despite reliving himself in every creature that died, Death sometimes couldn't help but wonder how he had died. He was not the original Death, but yet he held all the memories of him... or was that him? It was just too confusing... maybe he could remember it, but since he had to die in the bodies of countless other creatures it was buried and forgotten in those memories.

 

Famine would die again if he did not do something, and as far as Death knew... if you died in this world. There was no return. Your soul would be lost, devoured by the soulless monsters that roamed this terrible wasteland. And after that there was no heaven or hell, there was nothing by an abyss.

Even if it seemed impossible that Death could die himself, he knew that if he didn't fulfill the prophecy of the apocolpyse he would be stuck here for eternity, alive, but also very dead.

So he couldn't let Famine go, the others would be arriving soon.

 

~When the Lamb opened the fourth seal, I heard the voice of the fourth living creature say, “Come and see!” I looked and there before me was a pale horse! Its rider was named Death, and Hades was following close behind him. They were given power over a fourth of the earth to kill by sword, famine, and plague, and by the wild beasts of the earth.~

 

Death rode through the grey landscape on a horse that was just as pale and dreary. The beast was thin yet somehow strong. It's coat almost blended in with the landscape, shades of charcoal flecked with white spots like dying galaxies and its mane flowed like a smoke through the air as it galloped, the dusty ground kicking up a cloud behind them.

The stallion seemed fearless as it charged right for the giant monster, his rider Death wielding a sword with a silver blade.

The evaded to the side and slashed the monster, dancing circles around it to draw it away from Famine, the only horseman who was not given weapon.

But the reality was Famine had no weapon because he himself was the embodied biological warfare. His mere touch could infect whole cities, leaving the rest for Death.

The third and last horseman were closely connected in that way, as one was a direct cause and effect of the other.

 

The monster roared angrily, it was not finished yet and Death's pale horse reared back as his rider drew forth the sword once again to charge at the chimera, sliding underneath it and piercing the sword down from it's neck to it's belly. A sickening cry of agony as blood rained down on Death and his horse as they hurried to run out from under the monster as it fell dead to the ground.

[Cyncii]

Famine could feel the chimera's lion head inch closer to his neck, snout fashioned in a way where its teeth could easily clamp down upon both sides of the soft flesh. The creature growled, so menacingly that the small male couldn't help but utter a whimper. He was so helpless, so pathetic, especially without his horse to speed him away. The damned mare essentially flew off the moment she got spooked by the monster.

 

He'd strained his neck to seek out the source of the galloping, hoping for a brief moment that his horse miraculously grew a pair and returned. Its coat was... too pale, and its mane too light to be of his mare.

 

He grunted and strained to get up the moment the chimera pushed off of his body to attack the newcomer. There, he thought about the situation for a moment. If he had waited out the chimera for several more hours, it would have succumbed to disease. Famine was aware of his long-term warfare capabilities, but oftentimes it would not work out if he did not have the stamina or the ability to ride his damn horse. It was certain death for his foe if Famine managed to escape.

 

Speaking of Death, it appeared as though he'd welcomed him again... after dealing with the monster, that is. The way he slew the monster with ease made him fear him leagues more than he already did. He allowed his mother and himself to perish... how could Famine respect someone like that?

Famine almost winced as the chimera slumped to the ground. He then took a couple steps back, away from the horseman who saved his life rather than ended it a second time. The man refused to trust.

 

Perhaps he could summon his "trusty steed" now that the storm had quieted. With a swift, surprisingly projected whistle, a flurry of hooves could be sensed approaching in the distance. Within a minute, the mare arrived and rushed to her owner's side.

She was a beautiful, sleek black Friesian, albeit somewhat malnourished-appearing like her significantly smaller companion.

 

"It's alright, it's alright.. the monster is dead," Famine said to soothe his mare, who still remained somewhat skittish and nervous towards the corpse of the chimera. His hand reached out to run its fingers through the horse's soft mane. The mare whinnied and shook her head and neck a bit, causing Famine to be taken aback. He supposed even animals other than humans required their space, too.

[LoneDigger]

It wasn't safe out here. There were other chimeras, ones much more horrifying than the lion like one. Many of them in fact were a frightening mixture between both animal and mankind, the soulless of those not destined for Heaven or Hell were crafted into monsters, hungry for souls to steal so they could make it out of this place.

 

Death couldn't believe that he himself had a soul when it was his job to reap them, but yet he knew had to have some kind of soul of a previous life in him because the monsters did not fear him, in fact they would soon as hunt him down too.

 

That's why he set up a survival camp in this lawless place. It wasn't much, but another strange thing about purgatory was that if you wandered around the barren landscape sometimes you would find random items lying in the dust.

How or why they got here, not even Death knew. But he hoarded all these items for a makeshift home. He even built a fence to keep out of the monsters.

 

Now he just had to make Famine come with him, and seeing as the other had lost his horse he outstretched a bony -literally skeleton- hand to help the other up to ride with him on his mare - in fact up close it was revealed that the pale horse was no stallion at all, but a female-

 

Instead of accepting his offer he saw the other back away from him in disgust and whistle. Low and behold there she was, the black mare of the third horsemen galloping towards them. She was even thinner than Death's horse, and that was saying something.

 

"... Get her ready and ride with me. I know somewhere safe."

 

It felt weird to be speaking out loud, for what felt like millenniums since he had never used his voice before so it came out awkward and quite hoarse. Like it really had never been used before.

 

Death knew he was supposed to be the leader, but first he needed to sound like one before he could convince Famine to follow him so blindly. It appeared as if the other hated him, and he did not know why.

 

Dying was nothing personal. It's not like his choose his victims... well, in a way he did, but it felt more like they were the ones calling to him, waiting to be claimed. His touch ended their suffering, and sometimes before they could even feel pain at all.

 

Such was the way of things.

 

Death clicked and turned his mare's head so they could start heading off, but he only pressed her at an easy walk as he glanced over his shoulder to make sure that the other was following him.

 

"Famine?"