The hooded figure bounced gently as the steed they rode trod the corridors with snorting nostrils, flanks steaming in the heat of the radiators, a clatter of hooves pulling stares and causing murmurs from the students as they passed them.
The rider's scythe hung down, catching the light, its curving arc razor sharp, the grip tight upon it from the weight of the old farm implement.
The horse's eyes glowed faintly, flowing mane falling in waves, high proud tail swishing behind it.
Nobody dared approach such a mysterious, shrouded person bearing a deadly weapon so openly. They could only watch, muted, from within doorways and alcoves.
Except Alexis.
Upon spying the bridled horse, he stepped out from within the classroom he had been lurking in and blocked the way, his wings outstretched, his claws ready.
"Nice pony, Warlock! I see you finally got back from the outer circle of Hell; did you have fun? Where's your two lackeys? On your own? Yeah, I heard you'd been riding around the college looking like a right ninny. Got nothing to say for yourself? Think you're big and hard with your antique lawn mower? Ha!"
Curious faces gathered from the activities they'd been preoccupied with; a good fight was always quality entertainment!
Crowley yanked at the long, leather rein and the horse snarled, baring teeth, tossing its head in warning. The rider lifted the scythe up and the hood tilted, questioning the human's actions.
"You forget, Warlock, I've got your amulet! Come on down and let's see how tough you are without it and the lizards!"
The rider hissed.
The faces at the corners and doorways creeped forwards, waiting for some action.
Crowley grasped the bottom of the rider's black robe and pulled, roughly, unseating the silent scythe-wielder with a clatter as they hit the floor.
With a growl and a snarl and the unfurling of iridescent black raven's wings, Alexis suddenly realised his terrible mistake.
This was no daft demon donkey with a prop from the dungeon.
Bony feet clicked, equally bony hands lifted the ancient blade aloft and a soft hiss from beyond the dawns of time filled the corridor.
"Aw, fuck, Crowley's pissed off Death!" the gleeful audience laughed from the safety of their distant vantage points.
Alexis's face twisted in a moan of self-pity at his terrible blunder, "my Lord, forgive me, I thought you were someone else!" he fell to his knees and grovelled as a cold shiver touched him, the angry Horseman bringing his scythe down in a sweep.
It glanced off the wooden floor, sending sparks.
Crowley begged and gibbered, the figure of Death standing over him, its frost-encrusted robe brushing his forehead as he apologised over and over.
An ivory knuckle sharply grabbed his red, pointy chin and forced his gaze upwards.
"No, no, no, no," Alexis's faint voice wobbled in fear, not wanting to stare into the face of oblivion.
I SHALL BE MAKING A COMPLAINT
"My Lord, please, no, please, it was a mistake, I didn't mean to insult you, to pull you off your horse, please..." Frost coated his lower jaw, his skin and lips changed to pastel blue, his eyes began to roll back as the skeletal touch drained his inner warmth.
A glossy hoof stamped down with a thud, leaving a dent, sending Crowley desperately shuffling back, still whimpering as he sucked in lungfuls of warm, humid air, rubbing himself vigorously.
YOU ARE READING
Hell on Earth
FantasyIf you were asked 'what do you want to be when you grow up?' chances are you didn't reply with 'a demon', and the same is true for poor Anarchy Warlock, but he has no choice in the matter. So, off to the Infernal Holy College he goes. Luckily, he ha...
