When Death Runs Away
   Some things about The Horsemen
   A girl, no older than eighteen, tumbled through the thick black forest as fast as her long, thin legs could carry her. Her hand oozed crimson. She swiped at the passing trees, leaving black handprints that mixed with the sticky amber sap on the bumpy brown trunks. A wild, fleeting hope leapt out of her stretched thin mind. Maybe someone would come out and try to find her, or her body. She clenched her bruised, purple jaw. “No,” she thought. “No one would miss me. They would be crazy to miss Death.”
   There are four Horsemen, of course. Pestilence, Famine, War, and Death. The Colony, the place all the people still alive called ‘home’, had disposed of War and Pestilence. The officials had said to the people that they had beaten and torn at their mortal bodies until they simply… disappeared.
   The creature behind her let out a mechanical screech, and she dropped to the ground, like a rock dropped into a lake, her legs screaming in relief as she finally stopped running. How she wished in vain that she could kill the things that chased her, but there were just so many. Her power could only be used so much before she exhausted it and herself. The creature’s weighted legs shook the ground as it approached, much faster than something that size should have been able to. The girl squirmed further into the loose soil and damp leaves. She closed her sapphire eyes, and something she had never done as it was outlawed by the government, and she was unsure on whether her status as The Horseman of Death gave her the privilege. She prayed.
   To be a Horseman was to be an outcast. War and Death, so hauntingly beautiful, were difficult to be around, and uncomfortable to even stand next to. Famine was so painfully thin he made people sick, and some to vomit from looking at his emaciated corpse of a body. No one but the other Horsemen knew what Pestilence looked like, as he was isolated by the government as soon as he was found to be what he was. The people seemed confused, however. They seemed to think The Horsemen were the ones that caused war, death, pestilence, and famine.
   Dirt filled her mouth and nose as she pushed herself deeper still, impossibly deep. Metal clanged against metal, like the beating of a silver heart. She could hear the creature sniffing the air with its wet, slimy nose as it pounded closer. She was surprised she could hear it over her own heartbeat. She buried her hand underneath the silken earth. It could smell her blood, especially since it did not have the same stench of human blood. Her teeth shook with every step the creature took closer.
   The Horsemen Spirits manifest in corporeal forms, their appearance human but their blood  darker, when there was an extravagant imbalance of the constant equilibrium. A failed experiment had the left the world decayed, but when two brothers could find no other way to end their petty dispute, a war erupted. The day the first shot was fired, Caliber, the Horseman of War, had been born. To have any war, was to have an imbalance. The war brought death, and life began to dwindle. Marana, Horseman of Death, was born, as was a being of Life, who struggles still, to hold on to what she barely has. Too many deaths brought rotting corpses, riddled with maggots and disease. From the filth, Pahnder, The Horseman of Pestilence, manifested. Humans were forced to use their money for medicine instead of food. Those who did not die from sickness, wasted away from starvation and Mania, the final Horseman, was created. It continued in a vicious cycle until one brother created the creatures to finally end the war. What he had not expected was the creatures turning on him and his followers.
   A blue light shot out in a single beam in front of Marana, then spread out like a sheet. The heavy legs stopped their quick approach just before they touched her foot. The light swept to the left and to the right, scanning the area to find her. She pressed herself further into the ground, surely leaving behind a permanent imprint of her lithe body upon it. The blue light shot back to a beam and back to the creature, as it had completed its scan. A deep grumble escaped the beast, and gears whirred. It did not seem satisfied with finding nothing. It sniffed the air for some time, until it finally began to move back the direction it had come. Back towards The Wall, which was constructed around The Colony of still warring people, to keep the creatures out and the people in.
   Marana stayed on the ground, unmoving, for countless minutes, waiting for the creature to be far enough away that it wouldn’t hear or smell her. Only when she could no longer feel the vibrations that shook the ground from the creature’s weighted legs did she stand. As soon as she had though, her legs collapsed underneath her like a tin can, making her land back on the black ground with a grunt. She sat up and spread her stiff, aching legs out in front of her. She used her sweat soaked hands to rip at her mud caked white pants, pulling the stitches that bound the fabric together  until they gave and tore, revealing the yellow and purple skin of her once pale, creamy legs. She took a deep breath, and let it out all at once in a huff. She pushed her black, almost purple, hair out of her wide eyes. Marana leaned over and inspected her grotesque legs, wringing her chapped hands. A long jagged cut separated her skin and muscle from her ankle to her thigh where a creature had almost taken her out. Yellow and gray bruises seeped below her red swollen skin everywhere she looked. Her knees were bulging and twisted, and one had dislocated when she had crashed to the ground. Marana bit her lip and squeezed her eyes shut, trying to ignore the agony the wounds brought her. She shook her hands out and braced both of them on either side of her dislocated knee. She took a breath and snapped her wrists and hands, pushing the knee cap back into its proper place. She bit her tongue, drawing iron flavored liquid into her mouth, to keep from crying out. It would have healed on its own, but far too slowly, especially since she had used her power so much so early on.
   The Horsemen have as much power as humanity gave them. The more death and hunger there was, the stronger Marana and Mania got, the faster they healed, the more unstoppable they became. The Horsemen never fell ill or were short of breath. War, however, had grown too strong over the years, and killed so many no matter what side. The people saw this, and became scared. They banded together, crippling her, and left her outside of The Wall for the rampant creatures to finish off. After that, banishment became the highest form of punishment for those who defected or committed any crime.
   Marana had to keep moving, because she knew other things were still moving, maybe towards her. She clenched her jaw and stood. Her knees clicked and her muscles pulled and tore at her bones in protest. She could feel the tiny red scratches on her arms begin to close, but at a much slower rate than they normally would.  She had killed so many of them, leaving their twisted bodies to rot, but at the cost of her stamina being drained. That was the exchange. “Horsemen aren’t normally allowed to kill, starve, or cause sickness to humans,” Marana mumbled to herself, recounting what she had known for years. “But we can if we really have to, as we are simply just a manifestation, there to tell humans that they were doing something wrong,” She finished. This sentiment was instilled in The Horsemen from their appearance to their natural deaths. The statement came with the territory and name. She smiled. “It never said anything about non humans.”
The creatures were used to instill fear into the humans, as they had destroyed War and later Pestilence. The people thought that if they could successfully get rid of those two, then they could do away with Death as well, just as easy. They had accused her of murder, which she could not deny, as she was the last person the people saw when they crossed over to death. She had tried to explain to the deranged people that they would still die, just as they still fought and still fell ill. Yet here she was in this pitch black forest, cast out by the people she had once called her own, and shut out as though she were a slippery creature herself.
   Marana began to walk slowly, shakily, as quietly as she could, her only choice being forward. Her soleless boots squelched in the mud as she walked and healed for what could have been hours, minutes, or seconds. She could taste the humidity and mildew in the air that tugged at her stained white clothes. It filled her throat and suffocated her.
She decided to try to find water, just to have something to look for and to take her mind off of the oppressive air and her torrent of thoughts. Perhaps she could find a stream, and follow it somewhere, although she did not think there was anything out there besides The Colony. She shoved her hands into her pockets, and shuffled forward, only half looking for the water. She walked a few more miles before she collapsed on a fallen tree. She took a deep breath, and put her pounding head in between her sore, pulsating legs.
   No sooner than she had done this, something snapped behind her. Marana jumped up and twisted around, only to hear something from behind her again. Her breath came out in ragged and heavy pants. A beam of light shot out from her left, another from her right, and they quickly spread out, scanning her dirty body. She grabbed her head in frustration. She was surrounded.
   Heavy, quick thuds ran towards her. A creature, tall and thick, ran at her from her front first. She threw her hand out and felt a pull in her stomach. The shadows came alive and wrapped around the creature, filling its obscure mouth and entangling it metal legs. She closed her fist, and squeezed it, screaming in anger and pain as her head throbbed in concentration. The shadows did not squeeze the life out of the creature like she wanted them to, but kept it at bay. The creature from the back scurried towards her and she desperately swung her other arm out, doing the same to it as the first creature. The pull in her stomach turned into an ice pick, stabbing her over and over. The edges of her vision began to become clouded with darkness and spots danced in front of her eyes. The next two creatures came at her at the same time, and with a falling heart, she knew she had lost. She let out another scream, this one out of devastation. Her arms dropped and her vision swam, the world tilting to the right.
She landed on the hard log with a thud, her head bouncing onto the rigged bark with a sickening thump. She had one last thought before she passed out.
   “Can Death die?”
…
“Marana…” Light pierced her eyes from underneath her eyelids, and she groaned in confusion. Her body was tired and spent. She never wanted to move again. “Maraaaanaaaaa?” She frowned in confusion. She knew that lilting, condescending voice. It was one she had not heard in years. Someone shook her shoulder, causing pain to radiate through her, making her hiss. “C’mon sleepy head.” Marana groaned again, like a child who didn’t want to do his chores. “Fine.” The feminine voice gave up. “Don’t get up, see what I care.” A different, softer voice scoffed, and then laughed.
   “I still can’t believe she’s alive.” Another voice said. Marana knew this voice as well. Everyone did. His screams were heard throughout The Colony when he had been taken outside of The Wall. “To use so much power and come out unscathed”. He whistled. “Death must be at an all time high over there.”
The woman hummed. “Well, I wouldn’t say unscathed.”          Someone touched Marana’s hair. “She nearly destroyed her human body trying to get away from my babies.”
Marana’s eyes opened too quickly, and she quickly shut them again as the sun pierced them, making her brain pound against her skull. “Your babies?” she asked. Her voice was strained and sounded thirsty and dry. She slowly sat up, opening her eyes again.
   Sitting next to her was a woman close to her age with the strangest combination of olive skin and wavy, fiery red hair. She wore sackcloth cinched at the waist with a piece of leather. Her boots were handmade of leather and fur of who knows what. Her multicolored eyes bored into Marana’s sapphire. Caliber, The Horseman of War. “But of course,” she said, threading her fingers through her silken hair. “They are creatures of war, are they not?” she asked, smiling her half smile that spelled trouble and misery. Marana’s jaw dropped.
   “That was my reaction,” the other voice said. She looked over and smiled kindly at the other person. He was thin and his skin was a strange green and placid white color. One of his arms was covered in blisters and the other was riddled with open sores. His face, although red and sweating, was actually rather handsome with a straight nose and wide green eyes, and his blonde hair reflected the sun’s hot rays. He wore a blue tunic and baggy brown pants.
   “Hello, Pahnders,” Marana said. He nodded back, then turned around only to cough into the dirt, his body convulsing, until blood rained from his mouth. Caliber scrunched her face in disgust, and Marana had to look away. When he had finished he mumbled something about it being flu season.
   “So what exactly happened to me?” Marana asked, holding her rolling stomach.
   Caliber sucked her teeth before answering. “When I sensed an incredible amount of power coming from the forest, I knew it was either you or Mania, so I sent my pets after you. You killed the first batch, so I sent the second later on, when you were weaker. And it worked!” She clapped her hands and smiled sweetly at Marana. Marana, in turn, turned over and vomited. Pahnders rubbed her back in sympathy. “I hadn’t realized how strong you were still, or how badly you didn’t want to be caught. You almost killed yourself.” She sighed, flipping her hair.
   “How…” Marana panted, wiping her mouth. “How are you two living out here?”
   Pahnders smiled. Somehow his teeth were still white, even after he had spit up the blood. “It’s not just us.” He looked behind him, where the forest ended. “It’s everyone.”