Apocalypse's Horsemen (Devil's Assistant Series - Book 3)

Apocalypse's Horsemen [17]

I rolled my shoulders and stepped past Lucius.

“Can you feel that?” I murmured as my feet carried me forward.

“No.” his blue eyes met mine for a moment before taking at step to the right, his eyes watching every shadow and alcove as if they held some deadly foe just waiting to attack us.

My feet took me to the left. I knew I shouldn’t let my body lead but it was the only map that we had. So I let go and allowed the pull take me with it. My body moved as if weighed down, one lurching step at a time but in a few short seconds I had put several metres between me and Lucius

I glanced over my shoulder. He wasn’t paying any attention to me or what I was doing. His back was tense as he looked the other way as he bounced from one foot to the other.  I opened my mouth to call his name but found that my mouth wouldn’t open and the words couldn’t come out.

The pull drew me further and further away from him. I stopped looking at Lucius and looked where I was going. It was just in time. I managed to force my body to the side before I tripped over the handle of a broom that was strewn across the floor, the brush head resting just inside an open guestroom. I could also see a housekeepers cart further ahead.

It was the morning when things went wrong. The housekeepers were on duty when everything went to hell. Even knowing those details, seeing the bodies and the destruction, it still felt like a terrible nightmare.

I side stepped past the cart. My feet picking up pace as the lure only got stronger and stronger.

And then it stopped.

With a shake of my head, I glared down at my feet before taking in my surroundings. There was nothing extraordinary about this section of the corridor. There were only two doors left between me and the floor to ceiling glass window. It was lucky that I didn’t suffer from vertigo or I might have had heart palpitations. The tinted glass afforded me a spectacular view of the burning city. The smog was a little thinner at this height but it had still put a grey sheen over everything. Every few seconds a flicker of bright orange would shoot up into the sky.

“How long can a city burn for?” I murmured, watching it all play out with a morbid fascination.

“That is an interesting question,” the voice was squeaky, high pitched, like the owner had been sucking down helium.

I breathed in through my nose and slowly turned my head to the origin.

“The answer to that question would be for as long as we want it to.” Big meaty hands wiggled at me playfully. My eyes followed up the length of the beefy arm to meet the mountainous shoulders. “It’s a pleasure to meet you dear, though you have far too much meat on your bones.” He clucked his tongue in my direction.

I opened my mouth but no words came out. I glanced down at my body, half expecting to see an extra stone or two clinging to my frame.

“You must be another of those outsiders. Coming in and ruining the order in the chaos we have created.” The big head shook from side to side as his high pitched voice grated against my ears. “I am famine by the way. You look positively frightful but you are in time for the festivities. Come dear, we must not keep the entertainment waiting.”

With more grace than I would have expected, Famine flounced back through the open doorway and into the room beyond. I glanced down the corridor but could see no evidence of Lucius. With a shake of my head, I followed after the horseman.

I had only stepped across the threshold before the door slammed shut behind me, the lock clicking firmly into place. For a second, panic welled up within me and I wanted to spin around and prise the dor open with my bare hands. Instead I took a steading breath and stepped further into the room.

Someone had been doing some redecorating.

It would have been a suite, from the sheer size of the room but the partition had been taken down between this room and the next to create a large open space. All unsightly aspects of the room were hidden behind white sheets which had been strung from the walls. It gave the entire room a tent like quality. With the creative embellishments here and there, it was actually quite beautiful.

And then I laid my eyes on the front of the room.

The throne was a monstrosity. I wasn’t even sure what it was created from. There was a part of me that really didn’t want to know but the sick smile of famines face as he took a seat was answer enough.

“Human bones – they’re actually quite sturdy building materials when you’ve got enough of them.”  He smiled at me, showing off blackened teeth.

Unlike his fellow horsemen, Famine made no pretence of appearing beautiful or appealing. He just slouched back in the throne of bones. He squirmed for a few seconds before sticking his hand behind his back. He pulled it back out bringing something with it. A grimace formed on my lips. It was a skull – a human skull.

It was strange that seeing a skull in his hands, despite seeing all the bones and bodies outside, that actually struck a chord within me. Death was a natural part of life but that skull in his hands. It belonged to someone who had an entire life ahead of them. It belonged to a person who had probably never done a thing that would warrant this kind of death, this kind of treatment.

“Oh I’m sorry,” Famine smiled at me in a way that made my skin itch as if I was covered in hundreds of insects. “Did you want this? Here you go.”

Before I knew what was happening, the skull was flying through the air towards me. I willed away my sword with barely a thought and my hands stretched up to catch the lump of bone before it could smack me in the face. It was surprisingly warm in my hands. There was a moment where I struggled with the squeamishness within me but I cradled the bone in my hands like it was a precious artefact.

I sent a glare in the direction of famine only to grimace at the tongue that darted through his blackened teeth. I almost expected it to be forked but it was an ordinary human tongue.

“Right, where were we?” Big meaty hands slapped together as Famine giggled like a little girl. “Brother, bring out the entertainment.”

Nothing happened for a little while, just silence and then I could hear it. Something was being dragged.  There was the soft thump of footsteps accompanied by the scrape of something heavy being pulled over carpet.

The white sheets to the right parted in a flutter and I felt my stomach drop. How was it even possible?

The limp form of Castiel was thrown to the floor. He didn’t make a sound. There was no groan. There was no movement except for the small rise and fall of his chest. The Fallen Angel was beaten and bloodied, his clothes mere shred that had stuck to his abraded skin but none of the wounds were new. Some appeared days old and were festering with infection.

It was the other person that set my heart racing because he looked just like Castiel in every way – well except for the bruises. That glint in his eyes confirmed my worst fears. He had been the one with us these past few days. It was him who had returned to us before not the half dead angel at my feet.

“Who?”

In a horrible parody of the angel I knew, the stranger threw back his head and laughed. I felt bleakness and desolation well up within my soul as the sound reached my ears.

“Have you forgotten me already Miss Holmes? I am a little disappointed in you.”

In a blink of the eye, Castiel’s features were gone and I was looking at another familiar face, my mothers. Another blink and then there was another face.

I gulped. “Death?”

“You got it in one sweetheart.”