The Widow of Craxton Park.

A new collaborative with ricegoddess.

The Widow of Craxton Park.

Razor:

 

Few ever dared to go this deep into the darkened forest after the sun had set. Only the most courageous or stupid would hire a coach to take them north of Flinders Peak. But there had been a change in the guard, and while the roads were often only used by farmers that needed to get their crops and herds to market, it would be now that a blackened coach that was pulled by a team of four jet black horse, galloped along the gravel track. Death, which was not uncommon to the down trodden, happened at the Craxton Park. Whispers from the local village had spoken of how the Late Lord’s estate had been to a left to a mysterious cousin, who had been out of the country for well over decade. The red satin curtains that lined the windows, hid the face of this newest heir to the Lord’s estate.

Would they suffer…the same fate?

And what of the young widow, that had not left Craxton since the funeral? Yet another mystery to be unraveled.

 

RG:

 

This was possibly the stupidest idea in the whole world. Well, maybe that was an exaggeration, but it made it to the top five at least. Children always joke about walking down the path heading to the north towards the “haunted” estate, even daring their friends to take the journey. Of course, no one ever went through with the dares. Except today. Ethan anxiously gripped his dark trousers, releasing it and then gripping it again. He can hear his friends howling at him, trying to “encourage” him to walk down the path and to “check things out for them”. Ethan was terrified of the forest but he never admitted it aloud. It’s just a scary story, right? It’s not really… Cursed, right? Rumors always circled Ethan’s village about murders, ghosts, curses, and deaths related to this estate in the dark forest. The story was always changing, so no one ever knew what had actually happened to the Late Lord. And a bet was made today that Ethan would be the one to find out what happened and report back. When Ethan finally gathered up enough courage, he took a timid step onto the hard road, and then another… Before he knew it, he was far into the darkened forest. A lone crow’s cry causes the young man to jump in fright, quickly looking around before continuing to walk slowly. He couldn’t hear his friends’ loud voices anymore, whether they ran away when his back was turned or he was just too far away, he didn’t know. Glancing around the forest, the setting sun’s lights only helped in creating large, intimidating shadows around Ethan. He wrapped his arms around himself, his short, dark blond hair being ruffled by a passing wind. His honey colored eyes dart at each subtle movement, darting at each sudden sound he hear. He shook because of the fact that he forgot to bring a light jacket with him, being cold in pale blue t-shirt, and also for the fact that was he was scared out of his mind.

 

Razor:

 

Amazing how much the landscape changes, just by the setting of the sun. Shadows stretch on forever, and this is also the time when the night creatures come out from their burrows and knotted stumps. Under the cloak of darkness, and only bathed by the moon’s light when it peaked out from behind a grey cloud – the many small creatures went about their evening as per normal. But this place. This cursed place was not for the faint of heart. If the signage did not warn off the curious, than the narrowing of the path, and the overhanging branches that encroached upon the winding road only made the trip forward very hard going. Was someone going to dare to make it through? Children and the young at heart often egged on the weak, to test their spirit and their resolve. Tales told by travelers and merchants around the fires of the local inn – fueled by drink and bravado, were not favorable of the terrible Lord of Craxton Park. He did his farmers and workers no favors, and often kept pretty much to himself within the walls of his Manor. Only sending out his man servant to pay wages and arrange business dealings on his behalf. The more one keeps to themselves, the likelihood of gossip and innuendo spreading across the lands. He could be just a miserly recluse, but there were other events, strange and terrible that happened every time he returned from abroad. On his last trip, he did not return alone. Bringing with him a new wife. The only knowledge of her, was when she had come into town with a black veil to order a dress to be made at the seamstress. She already looked as though she was dressed for a funeral. It was not long after this time, that it was said that he passed on from this earth to the next. Though the villages were not welcome to the funeral. The hearse had passed through the town, with just the widow and the man servant following the hearse. Even then, her face was covered and it all seemed to be so strange. There was no autopsy, no word on how he died. Just a simple parchment hammered to a tree in the village square.

But back to this night, when a young lad decided to take his chances and see just how far he got, on the road to Craxton Hall.

He had long left his friends behind, and he carried no torch or light. His colorings however did illuminate in the light of the moon. Just enough to be seen by those with exceptional vision at night.

“Only the brave or foolish dare walk this path.” It was a feminine voice, that spoke as the mist enveloped the roadway. A cool breeze nipping at the boy’s neck. If he did turn, he would see the prettiest girl he had ever seen, though she had a haunting smile. Dark flowing hair that was tied back fashionably, and wearing a flowing black gown of the age.

“Which are you?” She asked.

 

RG:

 

The young man felt a sharp chill run up his spine at her voice, slowly peeking over his shoulder at her. The images of haggard, old witches quickly dispel from his mind when his eyes fall on her, put off by her beauty. The question came back to his mind again, gathering up enough confidence in that moment to reply to her, “I-I’m brave enough to walk the path!” Ethan felt mild embarrassment at his stutter, but he took the moment to examine her appearance. Despite her dress blending in so well with the shadows and being shrouded by the sudden mist, he can still see her practically perfect figure clearly under the moonlight, and… Was that a sparkle in her eyes? He shivered at the realization, unsure whether the shine was a bad sign or a good one. He tugs on the sleeve of his tunic, having become nervous when they lock eyes for a brief moment, looking away quickly after. The quiet cry of a crow seems to mock his nervousness, but Ethan stands his ground, hesitantly speaking up again, “May.. I ask why you’re out here? Are you also brave…?” Just pulling out questions that came quickly to his mind, he momentarily forgets about the cursed estate and its widow, shifting on his feet while he holds the edge of his sleeve, still trembling slightly from his nerves and the chill.

 

Razor:

 

If Florina had meant to startle the young man on his trip into the forest, she did a good job. Though, he may never admit his fear it was easy to tell by the way in which he stuttered out that he was in fact brave enough to walk this way. “Mhmmm.” Was all that the strange woman said in return as though she was mocking his answer. Her crimson stained lips curved upward into a smile that was both wicked and fun. It was almost as though she enjoyed toying with the man. Funny how the moon’s soft light brought out a sparkle in her eyes. Collecting the edges of her lace and silk skirt, she circled around the young man, looking him up and down, as though he was intriguing. It may well make him all the more nervous. A crow’s call only added to the mix, making the scene even more bizarre. Ethan stood his ground however, and was bold enough to ask of her what she was doing out here. Why was she also brave? The reaction was for Florina to stop in her tracks and whip out an ornate black fan. Snapping it open with the flick of her wrist, and fluttering it about like one of those fine ladies of the royal court.

“I wouldn’t say I am brave…just I prefer to walk beneath the light of the Moon. You see I am very fair and burn easy under the heat of the Sun. Think of this as my daily stroll.”What she just said could have been taken a different way from what was offered. Perhaps there was more to the Widow of Craxton Hall then met the eye. She did have porcelain skin that seemed to be radiant underneath the starry night sky. It even heightened the colour of her eyes, and the red rouge of her cheeks. Almost like a fine china doll. Perfection. Yes that was the word you would use. Florina could see that the young man was feeling the cold, having just come out in a light tunic. It was enough to have Florina ask of him.

“Craxton is but a short walk up this road. Care for a night cap? A hot beverage?” The black haired vixen then lowered her fan closing it slowly and offering her gloved hand. Should he take it? Or did he need to know just who she really was?

 

RG:

 

Her circling did make him more nervous than he already was. It almost felt like she was a predator hunting and cornering its prey. But he did perked up at the mention of her fair skin. It did make sense with how her skin glowed under the moonlight, looking incredibly smooth and soft to the touch. The color of her lips and her cheeks complimented her appearance well, making her look very beautiful in Ethan’s eyes, but it was also a very sinister appearance. It made the young man uneasy, but he couldn’t take his eyes off of her either way. Her movements were graceful and elegant, the fan being a nice touch. Craxton? The name rang bells in Ethan’s mind, but he couldn’t quite place where he heard the name from… He looks at her small, gloved hand, tempted by her beauty to accept her offer, but his heart thumped loudly and nervously. He didn’t know who she was, but the hot beverage was very welcoming on the chilly night. “May I ask for a name at least?” Ethan looked back up at her face, “My name is Ethan…”

 

Razor:

 

How delicious. Florina thought, as she watched the young man’s chest rise and fall sharply. Each breath he drew was making his heart beat faster. If it had been any louder, it would have echoed out from his chest. All this from the simple gesture of offering her hand for him to take. She noted how he appeared timid at her suggestion. Begging the question as to what her name was. This would unravel the mystery of her identity. Dare she keep him further in suspense? Curling in her bottom lip, she made out as though it was a great secret. Leaning forward to whisper her name so softly that he may barely hear it. “Lady Florina Craxton.” Only when he had said his name, did she draw back with a cat like grace. Her bottom lip released from the bite of her teeth and it appeared more plump than before.

Ethan. Such a wise choice of name by your parents.” Her smile grew as she continued with a tit bit of trivia. “I do believe it means strong.Florina had to be the Queen of small talk. Knowing that the young man still may be wary, she lowered her hand and then snatched up the edge of her skirt, in order for her to be able to walk on without getting the lace edge caught on the ground. “Well, I am ready for that night cap. You are welcome to follow, or return to the village. I shan’t tempt you further.”

And with that, she continued on down the path, leaving the young man to his thoughts.

“Good eve, Ethan.”

Strangely enough as she left the scene, so to did the rolling mist. It was almost as though it traveled with her.

 

RG:

 

Lady Florina Craxton… Ethan thought, the name was very fitting for her he believed. He felt his cheeks grow warm at the indirect compliment of his name, unknowingly giving a tiny smile. But when she left, his heart relaxed its beating and his shivers reduced to trembles as his body is now only trying to keep him warm. He blinked his eyes, noticing how much clearer his surroundings became as the mist left with the Lady. Ethan didn’t get a chance to wish her a good night, but he glances over his shoulder back towards his village, then looks back to where Lady Florina had walked. Would he follow her? He was tempted to, oh so very tempted to. The young man’s mind was practically screaming at him to run since he had the chance, but his heart yearned to know more about the mysterious, beautiful woman he just met. Ethan had meet many women in his life, his parents always trying to set him up and even arrange marriages for him, but none of them ever stirred emotions in his heart like how Lady Florina did. He didn’t understand what he felt, maybe it was fear, anxiousness? Or maybe even… Love? He shook his head at the silly thought, but he knew he felt something. He decided that he would go back home for the night and return the following night. Maybe fate would bring them back together, he thought hopefully. And maybe he would be smart enough to bring a small lantern with him next time, along with his leather-like vest. At that resolve, the young man nodded slightly and turned back to his village with almost a small skip in his step, the shadows and thin, gnarly trees no longer causing him fear as he walked. The lone crow that was mocking him earlier just watched Ethan this time, quietly observing before taking off into flight into the clear sky.

 

Razor:

 

Did the Widow of Craxton expect the young man to follow her so easy? She tested him to some extent, only to find he was still not sure of her – refusing to take her hand and be led into the unknown. That being Craxton Park. Few dare go past the wrought iron gates and come back. Even those making deliveries know that it is best to leave the parcels and the outer perimeter and ring the large bell, that alerts the man servant of the arrival of goods. This was part of the gossip of the town. Did Ethan realize that he was one of the first to actually speak to her? The Seamstress was on a confidentiality clause, if she wanted the Widow’s business, and so she had to refrain from speaking about what they had discussed in the shop. Why would someone go to that extreme? It only adds to the mystery. And what of the new Heir? Since the late Lord’s wife did not bare him a son, his estate and holdings went directly to the next in line among his family.

There were those that spoke of a black carriage that had passed through the town not long after the funeral, but it never left the estate. Did the Widow have something to do with this?

Florina’s dress swept along behind her as she entered the grounds, the gates closing in behind her as though to lock her in. Few lights were seen in the darkened windows, but enough to light her way. Waiting at the entrance, was the former Lord’s faithful servant and now the one and only that was to care for the Widow. He bowed low as she lifted her skirt enough to climb the stairs.

“Enjoy your walk, M’lady?” Curious to know why she was out so very late. Florina stopped, as though to ponder this very question. “I had no idea that the locals were so…nice.”The way she said the last word was done with a mischievous tone. Bertie blinked. “You actually met one?” He knew that few dare venture down the dark forest road, as the gossip was enough to keep people away. Florina’s eyes sparkled as she recanted in her mind, the meeting with the young man. “A young male. Handsome too. Almost had him come back for…a drink.” There she went again. Speaking with double meanings. What she said, when mixed with that gleam, that smirk on her crimson lips was enough to make the man servant shudder. But what could he do? Did he want to end up like his Lordship?

“He turned you down, M’lady?” Bertrand was now going into dangerous territory, with his questioning – but he just had to know.

“Would you accept the offer of a night cap from a stranger, Bertie?” The Widow took out her fan, with the edge of the lace touching just under his chin, causing him to gulp.Only if the stranger was you, M’lady” The Widow chuckled lightly at his response, and she gave his cheek a little…playful swat with her fan. “And that is why I keep you on. Now…get me a drink, and make sure its…freshly squeezed.” The man servant bowed and raced inside as the Widow glanced back over her shoulder at the darkened forest, where she had met what she hoped would be her newest friend.

“You won’t turn me down next time….Ethan.”

Smiling to herself, she started up the stairs, the doors closing when she had gone through into the majestic foyer.

One Hit Wonder – Haysi Fantayzee – Shiny Shiny.

Haysi Fantayzee was formed in 1981 and consisted of Jeremy Healy (also known as “Jeremiah”) and Kate Garner, who fronted the “band” and Garner’s boyfriend songwriter/producer/manager Paul Caplin. The band released four singles in 1982 and 1983: “John Wayne is Big Leggy”, “Holy Joe”, “Shiny Shiny”, and “Sister Friction”, and an album, Battle Hymns For Children Singing.

Jeremy Healy accused the singer known as Boy George (George O’Dowd) of stealing his infamous look. Boy George later addressed the issue: “When Jeremy saw my locks he was livid. Both he and Kim [Bowen] stopped speaking to me. They thought I had stolen their look. It wasn’t their look to steal…

Entered the Australian chart: July 4, 1983
Peak position: number 3

 

 

Good times come to me now
Good times come to me now

I ain’t lying ’cause there ain’t no time
No city it’s a pity ’cause I dress divine
City smokes, people choke
Big meanie he’s a genie and we ain’t got a hope
No chance, no chance

Well, I feel fine, no it ain’t no crime
I was dreamin’ of a demon and I ate a dime
The dime floats, the colonel boasts
Send ’em up the hill boys, this ain’t no joke
No chance, no chance, no chance, no chance

Shiny shiny bad times behind me
Shiny shiny sha-na-na-na
Shiny shiny bad times behind me
Shiny shiny bad times behind me

Your sure look fine your shoes they shine
I taste your face your love is mine
Mercury Dan with a spikey hand
I’m a hot retard, marquis de sade
No chance, no chance, no chance, no chance

Shiny shiny bad times behind me
Shiny shiny bad times behind me
Shiny shiny bad times behind me
Shiny shiny bad times behind me

Saw a cop on the line, machine gun shine
I was dreaming not believing that I was alive
My mind broke, the cop he choked
Get out of here, boy, or I’ll use the colt

No chance, no chance
You sure look fine your shoes they shine
No heat can compete with this blue-eyed liar
The child spoke, “We ain’t got a hope press the button
Press the button, it’s all remote”
No chance, no chance, no chance, no chance

Shiny shiny bad times behind me
Shiny shiny bad times behind me
Shiny shiny bad times behind me
Shiny shiny bad times behind me

Rise of the Horsemen.

Then I saw when the Lamb broke one of the seven seals, and I heard one of the four living creatures saying as with a voice of thunder, “Come.” I looked, and behold, a white horse, and he who sat on it had a bow; and a crown was given to him, and he went out conquering and to conquer.

Pestilence: Obviously has power over disease. Whomever this horseman touches will immediately become ill or it will take effect over time. Anyone can become ill by this horseman, even demons and angels including Lucifer.

When He broke the second seal, I heard the second living creature saying, “Come.” And another, a red horse, went out; and to him who sat on it, it was granted to take peace from the earth, and that men would slay one another; and a great sword was given to him.

War: This horseman’s strength is almost unbeatable. This horseman can cause a battle between even the best of friends. If decided to, War can turn any emotions to anger and is the second hardest horseman to battle.

When He broke the third seal, I heard the third living creature saying, “Come.” I looked, and behold, a black horse; and he who sat on it had a pair of scales in his hand. And I heard something like a voice in the center of the four living creatures saying, “A quart of wheat for a denarius, and three quarts of barley for a denarius; but do not damage the oil and the wine.”

Famine: Will cause starvation and drought. In any area where Famine is present, no crops will grow and any lake or pond will dry up within a time. You will notice the people in the area have suddenly become thinner and weaker, and this horseman has the power to consume any living creature, sucking them dry until they are weak with Famine.

When the Lamb broke the fourth seal, I heard the voice of the fourth living creature saying, “Come.” I looked, and behold, an ashen horse; and he who sat on it had the name Death; and Hades was following with him. Authority was given to them over a fourth of the earth, to kill with sword and with famine and with pestilence and by the wild beasts of the earth.

Death: The final horseman, Death is the deadly combination of all the horseman and holds the fate of everything living in its hands. This is the one horseman that you cannot escape, for Death is everywhere and will always catch you. The single touch of Death is enough to stop the heart, and if Death were to touch an angel or demon then they would not die necessarily, but they will be wounded. This is the strongest horseman, and will ultimately decide if the end is fated to come or not. ​

******************************************************************************************************************************************************

The time has come
As predicted, the Apocalypse is upon us at last. A traitor has broken the seven seals and the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse have been released and now walk this Earth among us. Only the forces of the pure and mighty are able to fight this new threat. God has sent his angels to protect his children from the wicked intentions of his once beloved son Lucifer, to keep him from causing the deaths and extinctions of the humans race.
Which side shall you be on? Will you protect God’s creatures, and fight the demons who dare interfere with life and change Fate, or will you be on the side of Lucifer, and fight for the death of every human being who walks this Earth. The fight has begun…
Leggo:

Hush my child…it’ll be over soon…”

The calm voice swept over the dying woman, wrapping her in a blanket of icy air as she lay there, dying in the street. Her blood was soaking the ground, her side nearly ripped open and glass shards inside the wound and on the ground beside her. She had been in an awful car wreck, thrown from her vehicle through the windshield and now she lay in a puddle of her own blood, grasping for life and gasping for every breath she could possibly take. But the icy voice that had sounded…was that just her imagination, or a hallucination? It had not been, it hadn’t been either.

Soon a petite figure hovered over the dying woman, a pale icy hand reached out and smoothed a stray hair from the woman’s face, and she understood now that she lay there, staring into the face of Death. The woman who stood above her with that calming voice and soft touch had such a gentle expression on her pale face. Her eyes glowed a beautiful bright silver, her pure white hair whipped around her as the icy wind continued to blow, not that the woman felt it. This woman…she looked so calm and peaceful, when would she feel that way again. The hand that pushed the hair out of her face now hovered just above her cheek, and Death spoke again.

“You will be at peace now Sarah, just close your eyes and let me embrace you.”

The woman did as she was told, and a peaceful smile graced her blue lips as she finally closed her eyes, and the moment she did, Death placed her icy hand to her cheek, and Sarah Humphrey’s suffering had ended. The corpse now lay there, a frozen calm smile on its face, and Death reached out and caressed her features once more before standing and walking away from the body. Sarah had been fated to die that day, as had many others. Morana, as she would be called in this human state, would be visiting many more that night as their fates caught up to them. Many would fight it, much like Sarah had, but no one can ever run from Death.

She left the scene, hearing sirens and ambulances rushing to the scene, but it was far too late. Sarah had been claimed already, and so would many others. She knew that the end was near…and she would reap every soul that was fated to die on that fateful day. Being the bringer of demise, Death had no choice but to end the lives of the many…but she too feared that the end would bring so much more. Fate was such a gentle and delicate timeline, and those who tried cheating their destiny would meet death sooner than they ever expected.

The pale horseman looked back, those glowing silver eyes surveying the area, before she turned, another icy wind roared through, and she vanished without a trace, moving on to reap the next poor soul doomed to be touched by her icy hand..

Axel:

“What is even the point of this young one? The ones before you have failed and so shall you.” The young, sickly thin man spoke coolly as he watch the challenger before him grow weaker and weaker. The ground they stood on had already withered and dried completely. Nothing but dust in the wind was left.

“Ever since you set foot in this town it has been nothing but misery! Our crops are gone and the cattle have been dropping like flies! It must end!” The poor soul glared at him, but Famine remained completely glacial and unmoving. Which only seemed to cause more anger and frustration to rise within them.

Why were they always like this? He could not help what he was or what he did nor could he control it even if he wished to do so. “I suggest you turn away and forget this now, leave if you wish. While there is still some bit of life left in you.” He was trying so hard to be reasonable, but to no avail. The challenger lunged forward, pure determination in their eyes. Until their blade passed straight through his cloak and the void rib cage below. All that remained then was utter horror as they realized what he was and as they watched their body quickly begin to shrivel up to the appearance of a mummified corpse. They looked to him as if he would know how to reverse this, but nothing.

“P…please…just leave us…I…I will give you anything at all if you want, but please just leave.” They croaked out as their body shriveled up further. Regret and fear filling their eyes.
Famine stared down at them expressionless. “Alright.” Without another word he turned on his heel and walked away. If only they had headed his warnings they would not have to suffer in this sorry state. Drained of energy and dying, they could have escaped and at least found another place to live until they met another fate. The were such a foolish kind.

TGWS:

Ipios flew in the city outskirts, somewhere he knew he would be out of sight of humans. He always enjoyed flying, few angels knew the gift it was to be able to fly and appreciate it thinking it as a right and taking it for granted. He remembered how he once tried to pass on that philosophy while teaching them to fly and wondered if they truly grasped that lesson, he sighed he would never find out from either of them now,, or see them for that matter.

He groaned the flight was meant to calm him, trying to get his mind out of what he had done but it was failing. Maybe it was what he deserved, he was expecting too much to think that he deserved any peace. He sighed as he flew back into town, finding a quite corner to change into his human form without being seen. Once done he walked the streets of the city aimlessly. Once a proud soldier of Heaven’s army, now a vagrant among humans who didn’t care about him and unaware of what was to come. He still had to protect them though, soldier or no, if not for what he believed in to spite the powers that be in hell and thin the horde. The deserved it of what they made him do.

 
Razor:

In the midst of a hospital emergency ward, few people ever really stood out. All that were waiting to be seen had some affliction, or a wound that needed treating. Some of the people waiting to be seen had been there for hours. Staffing cuts and changes in budget allowances meant that this once proud establishment, to heal the sick – was running on a shoe string and barely able to hold it altogether. The solitary nurse that was behind a laminated screen looked at though she had been working a double shift. There were noticeable bags under her eyes. She could keep drinking coffee in order to stay awake, but it would do her little good. The steady drone of the waiting room television and the cry of a sick baby in the arms of impatient mother melded together to create a sick lullaby. Some patients were actually asleep sitting up, having been there so long. Few people from this end of town had the money for private health cover, and so they had to resort to being treated like dying cattle awaiting to be herded onto a ship. The walls of the waiting room were a sad grey color – in some parts flaking off. A door to one of the consultation room finally opened, and a tired looking doctor with disheveled hair, sung out the next number in turn.

“Number 156….1..5..6”

The woman who had been holding the crying infant lifted her head and you could see the wave of relief on her face as she struggled to get up. Holding her baby with one arm, and trying to pick up her nappy bag with the other. All the other patients were either happy to see the back of the crying bub, or disappointed that it was not their turn. As she shuffled past the row of the sick, the doors to the emergency waiting room opened, and a shabbily dressed man ambled in. On his finger was a strange looking ring that bore an emerald colored stone. The jewel stood out, because it almost shone in the dull UV light of the waiting room. The man came to a stop, and looked over the hundred or so patients that were all waiting for their turn to see the Doctor. To some this scene might be terribly depressing. From the color of the room, to the sad re run on the antiquated television set on the wall. The stack of magazines on a side table looked like they were from the seventies. At some point in the Hospital’s history, this would have been a state of the art facility. Now, it was like the waiting room to Hell itself.

Pestilence couldn’t be happier.

Making his way over to the nurse’s station, he leaned on the counter with a droplet of saliva hanging from his bottom lip. The nurse looked up at him as though to look through him. She slapped down a clipboard, that had a pen attached. “Fill this out…and then bring it back. Waiting time is about two hours minimum.” She wasn’t about to offer excuses, or apologies for the long wait. Anyone with a brain could see why. Understaffed and underfunded. “Welcome to America” Pestilence’s head drooped as he reached for the clipboard, but not before two droplets of his saliva dripped onto the counter. Walking away to take a seat with the other sickly beings, he didn’t bother to look back to see if the nurse had cleaned the bench. He already knew by the look of her, she was beyond caring about hygiene. All she wanted was to go home to her one bedroom apartment and sleep.

Sitting down next to a young man that was nursing what looked to be a dislocated elbow, Pestilence took up the pen, and then licked the end of it – kind of like you would a pencil. Some people had such strange habits. The young man happened to look at Pestilence before uttering. “You’ll die here of boredom before anyone is going to look at you, Man” He had already been there for well over three hours. Instead of acting annoyed by this man’s statement, he actually smiled. “Oh, I don’t think so…in fact I am going to enjoy my time here.” Pestilence dropped the pen on the floor, only for another lady to pick it up and hand it to him. “You dropped this, Sir.”

Coughing, without covering his mouth: Pestilence took back the saliva covered pen and then twirled it between his fingers, sending a small spray of droplets through the air. It was all so easy. The old air conditioning system, along with the antiquated fans pushing around the air would soon spread his vile bacteria unseen to the many that were waiting to get medical help. You could say that Pestilence was doing them all a service, both staff and patients alike…….for soon there would be no more waiting. Death would become them all.

Shadow:

Smoke rose high in the air above what was left of a two-story farmhouse. A small distance away, one could see several out-buildings and barns burning as well. A lone rooster could be heard crowing somewhere not far away. Horses, cattle, sheep and chickens were scattered around the fields, laying down like they were sleeping. Of course, everyone knows that horses don’t sleep laying down and there was something off about the position the sheep were in. If you went closer, you would see a gaping hole burned into all of the livestocks’ sides. No one alive seemed to be nearby. The only movement to be seen was the rooster and the flames that were beginning to devour the dried grass. Suddenly, a figure in white flew down towards the house and landed softly near a man who was laying on the ground.

Alora sighed heavily as she went over and knelt by the farmer. He had a hole in his side that looked the same as the animals’ and he seemed to be gasping his last few breaths. She placed her hand on his forehead and closed her eyes, trying to see if there was anything she could to do save him. However, the only thing she could do for him was to reduce his pain slightly. Realizing there was nothing more she could do, she moved on to the farmer’s wife. She was laying not far from the house with the same wound as basically everyone and everything else on the farm. Alora tried to save the woman, but she was inches from death, like her husband. Alora ground her teeth in frustration as she moved away from the woman.

The thing that made her the most angry was that she had failed to avenge these people. She had tracked the demons that had done this for a long time, but something had covered their trail. She closed her eyes and tried to ignore the strong smell of smoke and death. She couldn’t believe any angel could do this, no matter how far they may have fallen. The fact that her father was now among them was unbearable. Who would kill animals just because they were there? And, she knew that there were three children in the burned and destroyed farmhouse. The only thing she could hope for was that the family would all go to Heaven together. She would have to ask Michael if he knew, the next time she saw him. She spread her wings and flew up to the clouds, needing a little time to forget what she had just seen. Those demons would pay for what they did and she would make sure of that.

 
Leggo:

It was just as Pestilence had predicted, for when disease manages to spread it’s filthy way across the world, it isn’t too long before Death makes an appearance nearby. In fact, the entire waiting room which had to have already been chilly in the first place became so cold so suddenly. If anyone in that room could be bothered, all they would have to do is blow out a strong breath and no doubt it would’ve formed a small cloud thanks to the new chill in the air. Not long after the chill took place, the door opened and a figure made it’s way casually towards the desk, hair whipping around her body slowly and her stride never faltered even once as she seemed to glide to the nurse’s station. Though no one looked up at the strange newcomer, perhaps because no one could see her, except of course her brother if he so wished.

Death had come on official business, and there was no reason to allow the humans to see their fate right at that moment, some of the anyway.It was rare that the horsemen ever allowed herself to be seen by the humans, except in certain instances much like with the young woman who had passed earlier that night. It was to put them at ease, it always seemed to calm them much more, perhaps gave them more of a sense of acceptance with their death with they looked into the face of their fate.

Her visit to the hospital however, would seem as though it’d take much longer that originally planned. You see, originally Death had only a few souls to reap that night from this dingy hole of a hospital, but now that Pestilence had been spreading his diseases around the place, it wouldn’t be too long before she would be back and claiming more lives at the expense. In fact, Death paused in her stride, and those bright silver eyes lowered to her brother and spoke quietly, the area around her growing much colder as she spoke to the other horsemen.

Continue spreading such as this Pestilence, and their demise will come too soon.”

Elven:
Lucifer walked the empty city side streets, or well, Inanis as he was called now. This form was by far his favourite, it felt right, but he knew that would change. Within a while he’d find a new form, like he’d always done. Sometimes a young girl, other times an old man, always with a different name, never with a different purpose. The only things that truly changed were the societies of humans, and while dwindling through the alleys he smiled back at the time when people were still truly afraid of him, his job had been easier then. Was it because there were less people to manage then, or because they still had this fear of God paddled into them…
A man passed him by, giving the boy an odd look. In the passing he mumbled about ‘damn disrespecting youths’. The boy looked back, not particularly afraid, more out of curiosity. In the end the man walked on, to the end of the street where a few people seemed to wait for him. Quietly Ina closed his eyes and put his hands in his pocket, then started half singing half talking to the tune of the old folk song Scarborough fair.
Are you going to scarborough fair?

The men talked for a bit, thinking he couldn’t hear them. “Do you think he has some of those fancy electronics on him?” of course he had, he had never been one to stray away from human innovation, as the devil he had to be open to new ways of torture of course. “I think so, those clothes look expensive too.” That was a half truth, they were no where near true expensive, but they weren’t on the cheap side either. He had to watch his appearance after all. “He’ll be an easy target boys, just go for it.”
Parsley, sage rosemary and thyme
The song had little to do with his situation, and he could’ve chosen any. That was how little he cared about those men, he wouldn’t even try to find a fitting song. Footsteps moving his way, of course they didn’t think he’d notice. But that was why he was here wasn’t it? And they took it, hook line and sinker.
Remember me to one who lives there
He continued his song, and now the thugs heard too. Why is he singing? Is he insane? Doesn’t matter, we just beat and rob him anyway. They would’ve… like they did to all those before, Paul, Jasmine, Hashim, Gerrit… and many more names had passed him by. Why he picked this one up, he didn’t really know, it just interested him. Hell got boring so quick, but the glance on the face of people who stared into the eyes of the devil and showed that kind of guilty fear only the sinners knew… now that got him worked up. They were worked up too though, three men, and soon they’d be dead. He wouldn’t mind seeing Death again though, she had this way of handling things that he could appreciate.
She once was a true love of mine

“What are you singing boy, how about you give me some money instead?” Two men grabbed his arms and forced him on his knees. The third one took out a gun and held it to his head. It was a real one too, with several people on it’s name. The iron against his forehead felt cold and nearly sad that he had been used for such atrocities.
“Don’t worry now… it’ll be fine.”
“You talking to yourself now boy? You really nuts aren’t ya? Going to ask it friendly one more time. Give us your money.” The man seemed finicky, like he didn’t want to kill another. The man had never wanted to kill, it was just situational, but that plea was reduced by the fact that all those situations had been created by him himself. All those murders were on his name, and his buddies there.
“Are you scared Mr. Porter? I am not going to give you money, but I will give you a little thing to think about… little Tracy never was a true love of yours.” A grin crept up on his face, showing his now pointy canines, and the last thing the man would ever see in life were those blood red eyes telling him the only truth he ever cared about. All his life was pointless, in fact, the world would’ve been better off without him there in the first place.Ina stared at the men, laying bloody on the wet ground. He had returned to his normal form, he didn’t like being in the other one too often. As much as he liked the face of sinners seeing his true intentions in their last moments, all the innocent and good people getting afraid of him only made him uncomfortable, as odd as that sounded. They were out of his league, out of reach, they belonged to an entirely different realm altogether, where there was light and warmth and kindness of heart. If his ‘work’ helped that realm exist then he would gladly bear it, that didn’t make him good or bad or anything inbetween, simply a necessary evil.
And tell her to make me a cambric shirt…
Now what punishments would he bestow those three?
Razor:

Pestilence’s eyes were rimmed with a redness that spread to his nose. Like the skin was aflame beneath the surface. You’d easily think that he was suffering from a flu virus, or perhaps a very nasty cold, when in fact this was his happy face. Unlike others, his way of causing such destruction was by the most subtle and unseen gestures. Humans really were the easiest marks. And what better place to spread disease, than to do it in a hospital. This is where many had such low immunity that they were in fact sitting ducks all lined up in a row. The Horseman of Disease fitted into this setting with relative ease. And just as he had predicted….Death did arrive, though it was earlier than she had anticipated. Oh yes, he saw her when no one else could. That was the beauty of her nature. Only exposing herself at just the right moment. For now, it would appear that Pestilence was speaking to himself. Hallucinating from his illness.

Continue spreading such as this Pestilence, and their demise will come too soon.” Was Death upset that Pestilence had just given her a larger work load? Taking out his dirty linen kerchief, he sneezed into it so loudly that it startled the man he was sitting next too. “Bless you.” Ugh, the Horseman shot the man a look of disgust. What was with people saying “bless you”…? Oh yes, those that remembered the Great plague. Now that…was a work of art. The Black Death. A third of Europe’s population was wiped out and Death was kept busy for the seven years between 1346 and 1353. Pestilence was capable of great acts of destruction against the living. He had truly been in his element back then..

Instead of being thankful, Pestilence pocketed his kerchief and then used placed his hand on the man’s shoulder to help himself rise to standing – only spreading more of his germs. Think of it as a parting gift. Turning away from the cursed waiting room, he went back to the nurse’s station, where the night shift nurse was looking a little…green. Pestilence tossed back the clip board with the slime covered pen.

“I never was one for waiting around.” The board clattered onto the counter, whilst the nurse picked up the pen and shook her head at the Horseman.

Now he was ready to face Death with a smirk. “Oh Sister…I saved time. Why, the morgue is just down stairs.” Meaning that those that died in the hospital were probably going to end up here anyways. Slowly he ambled out of the waiting room, not caring to see his effectiveness. It was more the fact that he knew that all that had been in that small room with him, were on borrowed time.

“Feel free to try and keep tabs on me, Sis.” Was that a challenge?

Axel:

“Hrmm…” Famine looked at the devastation all around as his horse trotted forward. Beasts of burden all around with holes burned into their sides. It was nothing but death and choking smoke from a farmhouse engulfed in flames. Truly a tragic sight, but nothing that could be helped. It was not like they could control the demons. “Well this is no fun…it appears as though some demons have gotten to this area already.” He spoke calmly to his steed. Patting it as he hopped down to get a better look.

Closer to the farmhouse a man and woman lie dying slowly and painfully. The must have been the owners of this place. What a pity, the weak creatures stood no chance at all. He grimaced as one reached out to him and swiftly moved his foot out of the way. They groaned and looked up at him in despair, as if he could do something. “I would not do that if I were you unless you wish to suffer more before you die…just lie there and enjoy whatever moments you have left..Death will be here soon enough.” He narrowed his eyes as they reached out for him again.

“Fools..” He scoffed. Taking a spear from the back of his steed and using it to drag the sorry human over to his wife. A more peaceful look appeared on their faces. “Do not look at me like that. This is not an act of mercy. It is only a small payment for whatever life you have left on this farm. I intend to take what’s left, until it becomes as desolate as the great deserts.” He flipped his cloak up as he turned sharply towards the barn.

Shadow:

Alora flew in circles over the farm for a while, watching the smoke billow up into the air. She didn’t know why she was staying here, in this depressing place. After all, there was nothing else she could do for the farmer or his wife. Maybe part of her hoped someone would come along that could save them. Then again, the other part of her imagined that her presence was soothing to the couple in their last moments. Neither of these fantasies were likely to be true, but it made her feel a tiny bit better.

Suddenly her thoughts were disrupted by the presence of something rather dark and disturbing. She made a quick dive towards the ground as she saw a figure moving the farmer’s body. She landed quickly, lacking her usually elegance as she hurried over to where the figure was.
What do you think you are doing? Stop touching them, you foul beast!”
She cried, moving between the figure and the bodies with her wings flared. She didn’t know who the young man was or why he felt so different from a normal human, but she didn’t want anyone near the dying couple. She glanced back at the humans, wondering what he had done to them. To her surprise, they both looked more peaceful as they held each other’s hands. She turned back to the young man, trying to hide her surprise and slight embarrassment. She slowly tucked her wings against her back again, attempting a more calm appearance.
Who are you?”

Axel:
Famine was startled by the appearance of another being. He hadn’t expected or sense anything else of significance around this area. So much so that he had to force a calm expression on his face as he swiveled around to see them….great. An angel, just what he needed to show up.. “No need to make such a fuss. There is not much more I can do here anyway..everything is dead or close to it so I hardly have any reason to stick around too long.” He crossed his arms over his chest as he stared at her coldly, the metal of his armor clanking against his ribs. “And I suggest the same of you unless you wish to meet a similar fate…and this is not a threat, but a warning, angel.” He made a slight motion to the shriveling plants and creatures at his feet. “I can assure you that it is far less pleasant than death…”
 
Diamond:

War walked down a street, a rather unsavory street at that. There were several humans dressed in what War understood was gang attire. All of the people seemed to be clad in the same color, which, as War had been told, meant that they all affiliated with one another. That meant they weren’t keen on fighting, which meant War was unhappy. War let his presence seep into the minds of the thugs on their porches. The gangsters began getting up, drawing their weapons, shouting at each other.

A smile tugged at War’s lips as a shot rang out. The two sides of the street erupted into gang warfare, bathing the street in the blood of the disgusting humans that lived there. War went on his merry way, enjoying the chaos he had caused. He was sure his sister would enjoy his handiwork. Still, something felt slightly wrong. War felt like he wasn’t quite doing his job. He wasn’t fighting, he wasn’t in the thick of the fighting. War wasn’t waging his namesake, he was merely causing skirmishes between small time factions.

War needed to cause something major, or he needed to get the war between Angels and Demons into full swing. Either worked for the Second Horseman. Until he could enact his plan, War walked down a now lonely road.

Evelien:

Lilith was in a dank little motel room in the middle of a gang ridden town with two humans, boyfriend and his beat up girlfriend. She had heard fighting in it as she walked past it from her last meal and decided to see what the matter was. Breaking the pathetic excuse for a door down she walked in only to see a shocked young man holding a bloodied motel lamp with a younger female on the ground crying, the blood coming from her head wound matching the dark dirty red carpeting.

“How dare you?!” Lilith exploded immediately her eyes turning black in the blink of an eye. She didn’t even for another of the ridiculous excuse for a man’s heart to beat once more before she was on top of him. He dropped the lamp as she attacked him her nails pierce the soft flesh of his abdomen like a hot knife through butter.

“You men are so stupid, thinking you are just god’s gift to women?!” She demanded but the poor man was too busy screaming in utter pain as she was gutting him, to even notice her speaking. How rude.

“Well guess what?” She smiled evilly showing him his insides.

“Now you’re the Devil’s gift for me!” She laughed manically as she emptied his abdominal cavity onto the cheap cockroach invested bed. Laughing with dark satisfaction she licked her hands clean and turned around. To her disappointment the woman was gone.

“What, no thank you?” She muttered walking out of the room and looking for where she went when she suddenly heard guns shots, and lots of them. Yelling, screaming and crashes began coming from everywhere.

“Hey!” She yelled suddenly as an explosion suddenly blew through the hall way she was in. “Holy Hell!” She bark ducking away and wondering what on earth was going on. Did the apocalypse come early? She half joked to herself as she left the motel still covered in blood. Usually only this much chaos was scene during a war, even with all the gang members around this was ridiculous, then suddenly it hit her.

“WAR!! Where are you?!?” She yelled out irritated at how much chaos was happening she couldn’t tell who deserved what, and this had the twerp of a horseman’s name almost literally written on it.