4 Horsemen Of Death Novels & Stories

"I think you lot are misunderstanding something here. What we're here to do. We're not here to kill her. We're here to bring her to Death." Eros's eyes widened. No. That couldn't be what he was talking about. "When you say death with such emphasis, you're saying that as a person, aren't you?" Ruby smiled. "That's it. We're here to take her to one of the Four Great Horsemen. The Horsemen of Death."

Alexa explained as Gabe continued to give her an extremely confused look. "You know Death. From the folklore." She sighed at Gabe who continued to look at her like he didn't understand a thing she said. "His name is Abraham Van Brunt. He is a revenant. Traditional folklore holds that the Horseman was a Hessian trooper who was killed during the Battle of White Plains on 28 October 1776. He was decapitated by a cannonball, and the shattered remains of his head were left on the battlefield while his comrades and troops hastily carried his body away." "Thanks for the quick run down in history Alexa." Gabe said, "But what the hell is that guy doing here?"

I know very much what she is thinking, and yes, it might even be true; we have come to the brink of extinction again. "Do I even dare to ask how this shall happen?" "There shall be seven horsemen, with seven mythical swords that shall wipe our existence from this world." "Seriously? Seven horsemen? And how will they even be strong enough to take out a Demon to begin with?" "My beloved not really seven men on horses, just seven men that is so foolish to join him on this quest. These seven men that have the power bestowed on them that was gathered from the cleansing of the mythical creatures." "So he is not alone?"'

“Are we really talking about Hades the straight-faced, no nonsense guy? You are making stuff up, Charon.” “Believe me, madam. The lord is not as he appears to be.” “Do not even think about talking me out of my anger, Charon. How dare your master remove me from the memories of the people I love?” “He was only doing his responsibilities as you are in his custody. Erasing memories of the mortals is a rule set in stone by the sky lord as agreed by the gods and goddesses. If he did not do that, YOU will be in a lot trouble.”

The lonely, yet stunningly beautiful death or simply Sebastian, ran his fingers through his long thick black hair. Bright citrine eyes surrounded by rich black lashes glance across the bare landscape. The year 1245 a.d. Sebastian once again is late to save his soulmate. He always finds them, male or female, moments after their death. He rubbed his eyes and kneeled down next to the young woman that had been crushed to death by a stampede of buffaloes. He gritted his teeth and cursed the fates.

His voice was low, but filled with a chilling calmness that mirrored the steel in his eyes. Cyrus’s expression darkened, and he stepped closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "You think it’s just me? You’re both dead already. There’s nowhere left to run." He leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with a knowing malice. "You’ve made a fatal mistake by trusting each other. The empire doesn’t just destroy enemies, Ravenspine. It destroys loyalties."

For every twenty we killed forty more dragged themselves out of the widening sulfur cracks. A rotted horseman lunged towards me his jagged blade whistling through the freezing air. I ducked low, sweeping his skeletal horse's front legs, sending the beast crashing into the mud before driving my blood-coated blade directly into the rider's chest. He vaporized into ash, but the explosive blast of dark threw me on the ground. "We are completely outnumbered!" Thomas shouted, parrying two broadswords simultaneously as the defensive line began to crack under the crushing weight of the undead. "If we don't retreat now, we'll all be killed."

I wondered in my thoughts. "But... Marcellus, sir, you can't do that. She just became the sohoe. She isn't experienced yet; such a task should be handled by..." one of the men was saying when a loud, deafening sound echoed as the man dropped dead with a hole in his skull. Marc had just shot him dead. "Questioning my actions, I must say you have the guts," Marc said. Now I understand why they bowed in fear when Marc had introduced me. It wasn't about fearing me; it was about fearing what this old man was capable of doing to any of them if they chose not to bow in fear.