The Horsemen

2. Stand Off

STAND OFF

BETH

OCTOBER 8th, 1871

Chicago

As the flames rise up, I feel the fear build within me. I am usually well composed; however, I can't help but quiver at this moment. This was not the plan.

People are panicking; sprinting to any safe place they can find. Do they even see what we see? We… Jonathon Gideon - my friend. A mortal, someone who's willing to put his life on the line and stare down the barrel of the gun. He has a family at home - I need to ensure they do not lose him tonight. But how?

I can feel the cobble stone street begin to rumble, but not from the turbulence of the people fleeing the fires surrounding us. I look around to see what is causing it, but all I see is complete chaos. People lying on the streets and sidewalks. Most lifeless, or wishing they were. Others holding the bodies of loved ones. Buildings that once stood strong, as a beacon of hope for this ever-growing city skyline, now in the midst of being reduced to piles of smoldering ash and heaps of steel.

That's when I see them. They ride in from behind mounds of black smoke and flames billowing out of one of the buildings. The scene is unlike any other I've seen in my years - and trust me there are more than I'd care to admit. People run past them, still looking to get to safety. Do they not notice them? Are my eyes playing tricks on me? Or is their fear already too great to worry about anything else?

I turn and look at Jonathon to make sure I'm not the only one who sees it. His mouth is agape, and I know at that moment he regrets his decision to stay and fight. However, he is a man of honor, and he will not let his city, or the world, be destroyed without a fight.

I turn back around to see what's in front of me, and I can hardly believe my eyes. Five horses walk through the smoke. We feel each step against the cobble stone street we stand on as if a stampede of wild animals are barreling toward us.

The horses are more terrifying than the riders themselves. Because they are neither living nor dead. They are charred beyond any recognition from what they once were. Once beautiful, majestic creatures, now damned for all eternity to chauffeur evil - The Horsemen.

Pestilence rides a white horse and carries a bow with a quiver of arrows slung over his back. War rides a red horse and carries a large medieval battle sword on his hip. Famine rides a black horse and carries no weapon as his powers are of the mind. Death rides a pale horse and carries his scythe by his side. Unlike the others, his weapon of choice stands out, as its eerie and strikes fear in the hearts of those who gaze upon it. The staff stands as tall as he does, with a large, arched blade on both ends. You can almost feel the souls that have been taken by it. And if you aren’t terrified of his blade, you will be at the sight his eyes… They are like two milky opals sunken deep into his skull. Then, there’s the Champion - The Anti-Christ. His horse is the only one that differs from the rest. As the other four stand in a straight line, he is just a bit further out, as if to lead the charge against us. The Anti-Christ, just as The First Rider, rides a white horse, but his wears a headdress made of solid gold, and The Anti-Christ carries a cavalry sword on his hip.

Jonathon and I stand shoulder to shoulder, knowing we are outnumbered and out gunned; but we do not waver, as we know this is humanity's last stand.

We peer down the street, through the smoke and the flames, at The Horsemen who would hope to cut us down where we stand. And we remain ever vigilant.

This is our time.