[ WP ] Centuries after human beings leave Earth behind , a lone wanderer travels the land . He is tired , injured , and lacking purpose . He is the Horseman War , of the Apocalypse That Never Came .

They were bored. So They killed him. 
 
 But the story does n't start there. It ca n't. 
 
 The story starts centuries ago, when they left them on their own. Just the four of them. 
 
 * 
 
 The three siblings had a meeting, centuries ago. The only one who was n't their, Death, had a good excuse. War, Pestilence, and Famine arrived at their Hall. They had much to discuss. 
 
 They agreed between the three of them that if they were to continue doing what they were doing they would wipe out the humans. And then, what would happen to them, no one knew. 
 
 The only one who could n't stop was Death. Because Death never stops. 
 
 The three agreed between them. And they left, Red horse chasing Black horse chasing White horse. 
 
 Decades more would pass and each year the three siblings would beseech death to hold his hand, if only a little, but he could not. It was not for him to decide, and he could not stop, though he has tried to countless times. His job must go on. 
 
 The other three lived as they must, down-scaling their work. War removed herself and the humans worked together. Pestilence removed himself and all the minds that worked towards diseases worked instead towards the one thing they could n't cure. The humans had found a a way to stop all wars, and halt almost all diseases, and what had replaced them had swooped in as mighty as war and pestilence together. Famine swept the Earth. Chasing the dusk, it destroyed the Earth. War and Pestilence rode hot the heels of Famine, but they could not stop him. And with no war to distract them, and no diseases to stop them, the humans built. 
 
 They called it The Earth. 
 
 The Four Siblings rode their Horses to the very top of the mountain overlooking the craft, and they watched, not a one of them saying a word, as it rose into the heavens and vanished. 
 
 Famine knew better than to stick around. He pulled his Black horse and disappeared from view. Pestilence reared her horse and chased him. But War stayed with her brother, Death, and he watched the human's vanish. 
 
 `` But not all of them,'' he told her. `` There are some left.'' 
 
 War nodded. She said nothing, only pulled on her horse's reigns and she vanished. 
 
 None of the siblings caught up to each other for centuries. Not until Pestilence approached War, encouraging her sister to find Famine, now that his guard was down. 
 
 As for Death? Neither knew. The Pale Horse had n't been seen for centuries. 
 
 War had seen him once, decades ago. He was sitting around a family, the fire still burning, finishing off the food they had invited him to partake before he had slaughtered them. War was on her way, bringing a rival tribe to fight with the others but Death had beaten Her to it. Poisoned meat. 
 
 Death had stared at His Sister for a second, and his eyes were sunk into his sockets so he almost resembled the skeleton the humans sometimes depicted him as. He might have been crying, as he sank his teeth into the rancid meat. War watched him rip apart that hunk, saw the black blood that had killed the humans, and wondered why he did n't stop. 
 
 Pestilence had only seen the Pale Horse, from a distance, over the horizon. Death was no where to be seen. 
 
 All this they discussed around a fire as War shared Her meat with Her sister, and listened as Pestilence said there was a famine in what had been India, but no one there to feel it. War nodded, they knew their brother must be there. 
 
 ** 
 
 Now she rode away, her red horse clopping beneath her, as she held her bloodied side and rested her head on her horse's neck. Famine had nearly killed Pestilence, but War was never defeated. 
 
 Famine could n't die. None of them could die. But he could suffer. He'd disappear for a few years, a few decades, if War was right - and she had hurt him enough to make him disappear for a few decades. 
 
 Afterwards the White Horse had helped Pestilence to her feet, and they rode off, not a word. War had turned and ridden in the other direction. 
 
 ** 
 
 Ever since the humans had left, War had felt herself diminishing. So it came as no surprise when the wound to her side, which would normally have healed in a few hours, took instead a couple of days. War was, for the first time ever, forced from her Horse, and to make camp in order to - and this is what got her - *rest*. 
 
 She was n't sure where she was - perhaps what had once been China. It was foggy, and the dirt was hard underfoot. She had managed to build a fire, and was leaning against a rock, her horse lying beside her, when she heard the clopping. 
 
 A horse. Pestilence, come back to ask War if they had done the right thing. 
 
 War rose to her feet, ready to recieve the horse but what emerged from the fog was neither White or Pale ( the black horse had died with Famine ). Instead it was a golden horse, too skinny, and tired-looking. War looked into the eyes of the person who rode it and saw neither her Sister nor her Brother. 
 
 A woman stared back. And the man holding the horse's reins, who walked beside her, stared at War too, and the red horse sleeping beside her. 
 
 `` Food?'' the man asked. 
 
 War shook her head. Humans had stayed behind, War knew that. The Earth had n't been able to take everyone on the planet away, even if it took the majority of who remained. 
 
 `` Fire?'' the man asked. 
 
 War nodded. She did n't move. The man reached up and tenderly helped the woman down. She seemed to struggle more than she ought to have, moving slowly and carefully. And the man was careful where he grabbed her to help her. 
 
 War guessed why before the woman was down, and her hand moved instinctively to her swollen belly. 
 
 The man helped the woman to the floor and she sat across from War, the fire in between them. Their horse lay down behind them. 
 
 `` How many are you?'' asked War. 
 
 The man shook his head. `` Just two.'' 
 
 `` For how long?'' 
 
 The man sighed. He could n't count. 
 
 `` Used to be eleven of us,'' the woman said. `` Now just us.'' 
 
 `` What happened?'' War asked, stirring the fire to hide her feelings. She had n't talked to a human in decades. 
 
 `` Plague,'' said the woman. 
 
 War nodded. She understood. `` You survived.'' 
 
 `` We ran,'' the man said, looking away. `` First sign of trouble.'' 
 
 `` Got more than ourselves to look after.'' The woman rubbed her belly. War nodded a third time. 
 
 `` Hard times,'' She said. Then War made a decision. `` When did you last eat?'' 
 
 `` Four moons,'' the man said. 
 
 `` Five,'' said the woman. `` One more and we'd have to kill the horse.'' 
 
 `` That's a lot of days to have not eaten when you're so pregnant.'' 
 
 The woman did n't have to say anything back. 
 
 War poked the fire. `` When will it arrive?'' 
 
 `` Soon,'' the woman answered. And the man smiled at his feet. 
 
 War plucked her dagger from her side and she rose to her feet. The two cowered, but War ignored them, walking instead to her horse. She rested a hand on it's head and stuck the knife between it's ribs. The horse tensed, it's leg kicked, but it did nothing more. It's eyes remained open. War slid the knife down a rib, and up the other side. She reached between the slits she had made and grabbed the bone, pulling and pulling until the rib had come loose. She did this once more. The horse remained still. 
 
 War dropped the two rib-bones to the floor and sliced the meat from the bone. When she was done she carefully placed the ribs back between the slit skin in the horse's side. 
 
 Throughout all of this the couple remained silent. War edged a stone away from the depths of the fire, and placed the meat on to the stone, glowing cherry-red from the heat. 
 
 When it was done War speared the meat on her dagger and passed the first piece to the girl, who thanked the strange woman. The second piece to the man. Who nodded his head by way of thank you. 
 
 `` None for you?'' they asked, once it became clear she was not partaking. War shook her head. `` None for me.'' The other two inquired no further. 
 
 `` Stay the night, I'll keep the fire warm.'' 
 
 The two nodded, and in time they had passed out. The woman leaning against their horse, and he cradled her closer. 
 
 War closed her eyes. She slept too. 
 
 When she woke it was to screaming. She threw open her eyes and looked around. The moon was shining high in the sky, casting white beams down onto the plain. The fog had let up some now, but not a lot. The fire had burned down to the embers, only enough to see the woman, naked from the waist down, screaming. The man kneeling between her legs, looked terrified. 
 
 War could not help. Neither did she want to. And it never occurred to the man to ask for help, only did as his wife ordered as she screamed and breathed heavily, sweat growing on her head and plastering her hair to the sides of her face. 
 
 War watched with mild interest as blood swelled between the woman's legs, then a head, then more screaming, a different kind of screaming. Then it was over. 
 
 War ripped a cloth from her horse's saddle and presented it to the couple, and the man swiftly wrapped up his new-born son. The woman slept. 
 
 It was still dark. War could n't sleep. She leant on the boulder behind her, dragging a stick through the embers of the fire. 
 
 In the distance there appeared a figure. War watched, with mild interest, this new silhouette that walked closer and closer, but she realised that after tonight nothing would surprise her. 
 
 War was wrong. 
 
 Her Brother was old now, grey-haired and skeletal. 
 
 Death was crying. 
 
 When War rose to her feet she was crying too, and she looked down at the family, at the sleeping child, it's curl of golden hair, and she sobbed. 
 
 Death looked at his sister. He looked at the family as he took his next step. And he sobbed too.
