The Horsemen of the Apocalypse

The Beginning of the End

That particular night at the Sahara desert was freezingly cold and windy. Every now and then, some mini sand tornados showed up on the horizon, swirling a bit of sand, going around and disappearing into nothing.

I lied down on one of the hills, staring at the clouds that accasionally appeared in the sky, in front of a huge white moon.

An Amphora full of water, a piece of cloth that wrapped pieces of bread and a dirty bottle of red wine sat next to me on the sand. Even though as a horseman, I couldn't feel hunger of thirst, the mortals' gesture warmed my nonexistant heart.

My skinny pale arms were stretched behind my head, as a sort of a makeshift pillow, covered in my black leather jacket sleeves. My blue ragged jeans were littered with sand, though that could be fixed with a flick of my wrist. My motorcycle lied half-buried in the sand below me, its black painted metal shining in the light of the moon.

I held a broken piece of opaque black glass, that I used as a hand-mirror, and once again examined my appearance. My wild mid-length black hair and my ghostly grey eyes gave me the look of a wandering soul, looking for my place in the afterlife, forever.

But I knew my place.

I knew my fate.

I knew that sometime, soon, I will be called to fight alongside my brothers, to cause suffer, pain, sadness and grief to the same mortals that gave me gifts.

I didn't want to, but that was my fate. My duty.

Almost immediately after that thought passed inside my head, one cloud turned red. A flaming sword was shot from it straight into the ground, near my head.

"I didn't even flinch," I called to the cloud. And to my not-so-big surprise, the cloud turned into my brother, a fiery guy with a red suit, a greek helmet and a couple of black wings attached to his back.

"Sure you didn't," he said with a grin, "you are not the same kid you were when we were kids."

"I faintly remember dad's ranch catching fire," I said, grinning as well, then straightened up, gesturing to my brother to side beside me.

"Hey, don't blame me. The old man had it coming and you know it."

"Whatever you say, brother. Care to sit next to me, or is it not appropriate to your superiority and reputation?" 

"I would sit with you, little brother, but I am not here for long. I came here to deliver a message from 'his excellency' ", he said using... what do the mortals call it, air quotes?

"What does he want now?"

"Our time has come, little brother. Time for the mortals to bow on their knees and pray to us. We will be their new gods."

"You always were theatrical."

"Shut up, now get on your piece of junk and get to your position. See you 3 runrises from now."

With no other words, he snapped his fingers, combusted in flames and disappeared. For a moment, I thought he left his sword behind, but it was gone, too, leaving a small flame behind.