Two engines could be heard on the road, one carrying a saddened yet pissed off Pestilence and Comforting Death, the other carrying an incapacitated War and a tired yet responsible Famine. In came into view was the black mustang owned by Death whom was having a conversation with Pestilence.
"I'm just a lil fuckin' pissed at that shithead for ruinin' my baby." Spoke the Plague causing grenadier.
The foreteller of Death sighed then spoke "It's a car, we can get you another one."
"Yeah, but it was special to me..." Pestilence spoke, looking down at the floor of the mustang which was a deep brown almost fur like covering.
"Look, I get it, but we don't have the cash on us to get a new one for awhile, so we 'oughta make do." Death spoke, trying to sympathize with Pestilence.
Pestilence reached to the radio in the car, turning it on, Her strut by Bob Seger and the Silver Bullet Band came on, perking Pestilence's head up to which he'd start to get into the move of the song, grooving out whilst Death was content Pestilence wasn't moping for now. The view of the unknown seer would look at the bone white truck now, watching Famine and the now waking War.
"W-where? What?" War spoke, dazed from the earlier fight a few hours ago.
"You've been almost out for two days? Now? or so." Famine spoke, being the most mature of the horsemen.
"Fuckin' hurts." War spoke, rubbing her temples.
"Damn right it should, I hit you hard on that pavement." Spoke Famine, smirking at his victory from a few days.
"Soo, where we headed?" War asked, still grimacing at the pain in her head.
"Some random town, little detour or whatever." Famine squeaked out, a little unaware himself.
"Alright, well, let's get munchies while were there!" She squealed out, happy at the thought of munchies.
Famine just nodded, tired of this endless conversation.
At that moment, Death floored the gas, turning on a dirt road, Famine's truck following the route.
"The hell we doing?" Pestilence questioned his friend.
"Trust me." Death said, not elaborating.
"Okay." Pestilence said, not questioning further.
They'd pull up in front of a mansion, it appearing to be run down on the inside, some of the roofing's shingles had fallen off and the exterior paint was chipping off the sides. Then out walked an almost twenty foot pale white man wearing a black suit and a red tie. A voice came into all four of the horsemen's heads.
"It's been quite a hassle to get you all here, even having to get one of my proxies killed in getting you here, tsk, such troublemakers." The voice said, it sounding deep and distorted, like it wasn't actually there, just in there minds.
Pestilence just flipped him the bird saying
"Fuck you ya' bleedin' white tree, i'm really fuckin' tired so now, imma take a nap." he said before falling asleep on the green grass.
"Uh..." the three other three said in unison.
The large creature had a level of maturity passing even famine, he'd bow and motion towards the door, it opening and showing utter darkness.
(Cliff hanger, I know, but i'm tired and just, whatever, have a good night or day my friends.)
YOU ARE READING
The four Horsemen
FantasyA story focusing on the Four horsemen of the apocalypse War, Famine, Death, and Pestilence. These comical character's are creatures of doom and the coming apocalypse.
