How it Went Down the Pan

“I did it for a laugh,’ Death mumbled sheepishly, trying to look anywhere other than at the young girl glaring at him. That is to say, she looked young. Probably about twelve to human eyes but in reality she was older than all of them.

“What?” she roared and took a step closer to him, tilting her head upward to get a clear look at his face, which was bowed down.

Death met her gaze nervously and said again; “I did it for a laugh.”

War, who was standing behind the girl sniggered. Probably relieved that he was not the one getting chewed out, but Death suspected that his time was coming. They had all dropped the ball royally on this one.

The girl shot a murderous glance at War and he stopped laughing immediately. She then reached up and grabbed Death roughly by the lapel of his black suit and marched him across the filthy, tiled floor of the gent's restroom. Why they had arranged to meet here, in a drive-in theatre restroom that looked like it had been left to rot away years before the Apocolypse, was beyond him. He was dragged unceremoniously across the cockroach-infested room and was assailed by the stench of stale piss and acrid urinal cakes. As he hopped over a brown slick of unidentifiable liquid that seeped across the floor, he began to suspect the location of this little rendezvous had been arranged by Pestilence.

He chanced a glance at her and felt justified in his suspicions when he saw how comfortable she seemed in this fetid room. More infuriatingly, regardless of how rancid her surroundings, or how filthy her role in this Apocolypse had been, she always looked immaculate. Today, Pestilence wore an elegant, long, red chiffon dress that Death suspected was Teflon coated.

The girl flung the restroom door open to the world beyond. Outside, the sun was shining on a sea of rusty, abandoned cars that were parked in front of a massive cinema screen. The painted metal sheets of the screen may once have been bone white, but those that had not been blasted away, were now a dusty brown, and those lower to the ground were covered in splatters of dark, dried blood. Hundreds of moaning zombies shambled aimlessly between the cars. 

“You created them for a laugh?” the girl yelled accusatorily at him.

“The Book did say ‘the dead shall rise from the grave,’ and well…” Death motioned to the horde of zombies.

“I know,” the girl barked. “But it was meant to be in the glowy Obi-Wan sense of the word, or, if you were feeling particularly wrathful, you could have thrown a little of the Counjoring kind at them. But create millions upon millions of flesh-eating zombies you were NOT meant to do!”

“Well,” Death said defensively, “The Book wasn’t exactly specific. I felt it was kinda open to interpretation. And I thought this might sorta be funny”

The girl clenched her jaw and glared at him with such malice that for the first time in his existence, Death actually feared for his own life.

War scoffed, which resulted in the girl spinning around on one heel so fast that Death thought she may ignite the floor underfoot.

“Do you think this is funny?” she scolded him. “Why don’t we talk about how badly you humped the lizard on this one.”

“Woah, what did I do?” War pointed innocently at his chest. Death smiled a little as he looked at his old friend trying to act innocent.

All of the Horsemen could choose any form they wanted when they were in this realm.  Famine, Pestilence, and Death would change their look from time to time but War was consistent in his appearance. He always took on the form of a diminutive three and a half foot tall man, with a bulging chest and wide smile.

Many, many years ago Death had asked him why he chose this form. War gave him a big cheeky grin and said; “Because they never see it coming.”

He was right about that. Throughout the centuries the other Horsemen had seen him sow the seeds of chaos that caused great nations to go to war against each other and they never once stopped to consider that it was the short man sitting in the shadows who had been the maestro of their destruction.

The girl stormed over to War and pointed a finger straight in his face. “You had one job. One job! Decide which country the anti-Christ would rise to power in. You could have chosen anywhere. America, China, Russia, anywhere in the Middle East. And where did you choose?” She gripped a handful of her hair in frustration. “Anyone would think you decided where he would strike from whilst playing a game of Risk.”

War shot the others a nervous look. It was brief and most would have missed it but the girl did not. She glared at the others, mouth ajar in disbelief, while they all did their best to avoid her gaze and look as nonchalant as possible.

“Are you for real?” she said to War, her jaw still hanging low in utter bewilderment. “You decided the fate of the world over a game of Risk?”

“Well, I was bored!” War yelled back. “You don’t know what it’s like sitting around for two thousand years doing nothing, just waiting for the go-ahead to end the world.”

The girl raised an eyebrow. “Doing nothing? Do you not remember the little French guy with all the ships? How about World War I… or its sequel? Iraq parts one and two? Vietnam? The American Civil War? William- freakin’-Wallace? Any of these ringing a bell?”

“Okay, okay.” War huffed, defeated. “But they were just practice runs for the main event. Besides, I still don’t see what the problem is. There was a war wasn’t there? It ended in the annihilation of the civilized world, didn’t it? What’s the problem?”

The girl rubbed her forehead. “The problem is that people were meant to see this war coming. It was their last shot at redemption. Their last chance to change their ways and choose a path of peace. It’s kinda difficult to do this when the war comes so far from left field, and so suddenly, that no-one had a chance to even acknowledge it, let alone learn from it. I mean, who in a million years would have expected that The United States of America would be invaded by Fiji!”

“I think people were more surprised that they won,” muttered Pestilence.

The girl turned on her in a flash. “Are you sure want to wade in here?”

“Hey don’t look at me,” said Pestilence. “I did exactly what I was supposed to do. I created the plague, I created the swarm of locusts, and not to mention the horde of rats.”

The girl nodded. “Yes. But you did all of this three years too early. You were meant to unleash them in 2023 when the world was trying to content with these numbnuts!” she motioned to the other Horsemen.

“That’s not my fault,” Pestilence protested and pointed at Famine. “He told me it was time.”

Famine dropped the Twinkie he was eating and looked at Pestilence in wide-eyed horror. “Snitch!”

“Tell me,” the girl continued to Pestilence, “what happened to your swarm of super-locusts that were meant to spread out from Australia across the entire world?”

Pestilence scrunch up her face and muttered; “They all got killed in that fire.”

“And the rats? What happened to them?”

Looking even more deflated Pestilence replied; “They starved because everyone was staying at home.”

“So in short, apart from pissing most of the world off for two years, what did you actually manage to achieve?”

“Nothing,” Pestilence mumbled under her breath.

Finally, the girl turned on Famine. So immense was the Horseman’s frame that he had to turn sideways when the entered the restroom and even then he had to hold in his gut to move through it. Of all of them, he looked the least like his namesake. He had long greasy hair, a Hawaiin shirt the size of a ship’s sail, and rocked pink, drawstring shorts and flipflops.

“And let’s not forget about you,” the girl said.

Famine had been ready for the roasting and was quick to react. “That’s not my fault. Ninety percent of the world’s population ate at fast-food restaurants. How was I supposed to know that taking them down wouldn’t result in everyone starving?”

“The only thing you succeeded in doing was making people healthier. Instead of just killing all of the cows, pigs, and chickens, why didn’t you target the crops that both they and humans ate? Thus starving everyone.”

“Well, when you put it like that, it seems obvious.” Famine replied.

“I guess it’s a good job my zombies ate all of the healthy people Famine created then,” Death said, trying to redeem himself.

The girl gave Death a look that chilled him to the bone. “The problem is,” she seethed, “they worked too well.”

“What d’ya mean?” War asked.

“The Meek were meant to inherit the Earth after all this was over,” she replied. “Death, would you care to tell the others what happened to them?”

Death grimaced. “My zombies ate them.”

“Okay, okay, okay. So we screwed up, a little,” War said. “Let’s cut to the chase. How angry is He?”

The girl gave him a cold smile. “Do you remember the incident with the apple?”

They all nodded.

“That was nothing compared to this,” she replied.

“Alright, so we apologize when we see Him,” said Pestilence, her voice full of fear.

“Oh you don’t get it,” the girl said. “You don’t get to see Him again. This is it. The Gates are closed. Nobody gets through now, whether they go up or down. Heaven and Hell are closed for business… forever. We’re stuck here. That’s our punishment.”

Death was about to say, ‘that’s not fair’ when they heard a stifled cough coming from inside one of the toilet cubicles. They all exchanged panicked looks at each other.

The girl hissed at Pestilence; “Did you check this place out first?”

“For who?” Pestilence said quietly, raising her hands in confusion. “End of the world remember? It’s only meant to be us left.”  

Each of them fell silent and took one step away from the toilet stall. They stared at the door intently, not moving, not making a sound. After what seemed like an age, the girl tugged on Death’s sleeve and then motioned towards the door. The other Horsemen all nodded eagerly in the affirmative.

Death mouthed; “Why me?”

The girl said nothing. She simply snarled and raised a fist at Death’s face.

“Fine,” Death mouthed back and crept hesitantly towards the door. He reached out to push it open but pulled his hand away at the last moment. His heart was beating so fast that he genuinely believed if he were human he may be about to have a massive coronary. He wondered if, lurking on the other side of the door, was The Beast. No-one had seen hide nor hair of it since it let loose upon the Earth to wreak carnage. But somehow he doubted a creature of such fearsome nature would be able to fit in this tiny restroom let alone be tempted to come in here for a dump.

Still, Death did not like this one bit. He turned and looked at the others pleadingly. In unison, they all shook their heads. “You’re doing great,” Famine whispered and motioned for Death to try the door again.

Death took a deep breath. He tentatively reached out and pushed the door. It swung open slowly.

Standing on the other side was a man, probably only twenty years old. He had shaggy, dirty blonde hair that stuck out in all directions. He was wearing a torn, yellow T-shirt that had the words ‘Keep Rockin’’ written in blue across the front, faded jeans with one leg torn off at the knee, filthy white ankle-high sneakers, and a backpack. Pinned to the right shoulder strap of the backpack was a yellow button with a smiley face on it. The man was brandishing a penknife, which he held up the moment Death opened the door and looked almost as terrified as the millennium-old entity was feeling right now. However, the moment he realized he was not looking at the most ferocious creature to ever be unleashed upon mankind, Death breathed a huge sigh of relief, followed by a sense of complete confusion.

The girl and other horsemen peered at the man inside the stall but said nothing. They just stood there looking as equally confused as Death. Eventually, it was the girl who broke the silence.

“Oh look. Another human survivor just like us,” she said unconvincingly. “Isn’t this lucky. Who… are… you,” she asked speaking slowly as if speaking to a foreigner or deaf person.

The man lowered the penknife and said; “I’m Eric.”

“Hello…Eric. I’m Gaia,” the girl said and then pointed at Death. “And this is…this is…um…”

Death glanced around the room and then hurriedly said; “I’m Mr. Tile. Yes, Mr. Tile.” He then nodded at War.

“Oh,” War said. “I’mmm…Mr. Door.” He then kicked Famine, who given more time to think, was once again quicker off the mark.

“I’m Mr. Popcorn,” Famine replied and then pointed smugly at Pestilence.

Pestilence looked frantically around the restroom. She then stopped, and with a mischievous smile said; “I’m Miss Please-Wash-Your-Hands-Thoroughly-Before-Leaving.”

War, Famine, and Death all erupted in laughter. Only Gaia looked less than impressed at Pestilence’s little joke.

“No you’re not,” Eric said. “You’re the Horsemen of the Apocolypse.”

This made them all shut up pretty damn quick. They looked wide-eyed at Eric and then at Gaia for guidance.

“How much did you hear?” she asked Eric suspiciously.

“Well, all of it. I’m mean you were like right here, and I was only like right there,” he replied pointing to the stall door. “It would have been kinda hard not to hear everything.”

Famine suddenly looked panicked. “He heard everything! What should we do? Should we kill him?”

“Woah,” Eric exclaimed raising his penknife again.

“No,” Gaia barked.

“Well, what if he talks? What if he tells people about us?” Pestilence asked.

“Who?” Gaia asked incredulously. “For all we know he’s the last human alive. And even if he did, what difference does it make now? You’ve already played your hand. It’s not as if he could screw up your plans, or at least no more than you already managed to screw them up.”

Gaia turned to Eric and said; “Eric, just put the knife down. Nobody’s going to hurt you.”

Eric slowly put the knife down. He then said somewhat apprehensively to Death; “You know creating zombies was a pretty crappy thing to do. They ate my girlfriend. And my mom. And my goldfish.” 

Death scratched his cheek. “Yeah, sorry kid. What can I say? It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“They’re probably gonna eat me too,” Eric said forlornly.

“What are you doing in here?” Gaia asked.

“Hiding from his zombies,” Eric said pointing at Death.

Gaia raised an eyebrow at Death. “You see what you did?”

“Alright, I get it,” Death replied. “Look kid, I think I can help you out here.”

Death unpinned the smiley face button from Eric’s backpack and gave it a good ol’ lick. He then pinned it back on and said; “There. So long as you have that on you, the zombies won’t come anywhere near you.”

“Really?” Eric said excitedly.

“Yeah, yeah. Now go on. Get outta here,” said Death.

“Wow,” Eric said looking down in awe at the smiley face button. “Thanks. This is turning out to be a pretty great day.” With that, he half-trotted, half-skipped towards the restroom door.

“Wait a moment,” Gaia called out after him. “What makes you say that. Your world is over. Everyone is dead. How could this possibly be a great day?”

Eric thought about it for a moment and said; “Well today, for the first time in a long time, nothing is going to try and eat me. I now have the entire world to explore without worrying about zombies. And who knows, I may actually find survivors and with this little beauty,” he pointed to the pin, “I’ll be a hero. Also, if what you said is true, I can do whatever I want now without worrying about the consequences in the afterlife. So all in all, a pretty good day.”

Eric flung open the restroom door and sure enough, the zombies on the other side turned and walked away from him.  “Yes!” He fist-pumped the air.

With what seemed like an afterthought he turned and said; “It’s you guys I feel sorry for.”

The Horsemen exchanged glances and Gaia asked; “Why?”

“Because your job is over,” Eric said. “Your whole reason for being is no more. You’ve got nothing left and it sounds like you’ve got nothing to go to either. It kinda sucks to be you right now.”

Eric walked out, letting the door swing shut behind him, leaving the Horseman and Gaia standing there in stunned silence. Just as Death thought they had seen the last of him, the door opened and Eric poked his head around the corner and said; “Oh and I bumped into this huge, seven-headed thing the other day called The Beast and it said it was looking for all of you. I gotta tell ya; it looked kinda pissed. Have a nice day!”

With that, Eric let the door swing to and it really did turn out to be the first day he had enjoyed since the world had ended.