Lately, I've become obsessed with Darksiders. Right now, I'm in the middle of reading The Abomination Vault (if you haven't read it, please do – you won't regret it), and I'm quite enjoying it. Suddenly this story popped into my head, and I rushed to the computer, where I'm now typing it furiously. Bear with me, as I'm making most of this up as I go.

Darksiders – The Fifth Horseman

The boy looked in terror at what was laid out before him.

His home was gone, nothing more than a pile of ash. In some places, there wasn't even ash – just unnaturally blank spaces of ground. All throughout town, the child knew, would be much of the same. The four strangers left nothing standing of what had once been the boy's home.

These strangers… what were they? The town had been blessed by God himself – not even the full might of the U.S. Military could have stopped them. The boy wanted nothing to do with this, of course. He had just wanted to play with Liam and Tiana, his two best friends. No matter how his parents wanted him to become involved in the coming war with the world, the boy would just go and play with his friends, imagining they were super-heroes.

An armored boot stomped on the ground in front of him, bringing the child back to the present. Looking up, he saw that it was the more massive of the strangers. A massive sword, impossibly long and impossibly wide, was clutched in his armored hand. A red hood did nothing to conceal the glowing eyes, which bored into the child like a hot knife would go through butter. There was no malice, but rather a surprised curiosity.

"You, boy," he said, his voice that of a general born in war, "how did you live through this purge?"

"Brother," another voice called, this one female, "what did you find?"

"A boy, still alive," the red-hooded man answered. "You must have missed him, Fury."

"More likely, it was you who missed him, War," a third voice replied. The boy thought he sounded familiar, and placed it a second later – his voice reminded him of the actor who played Green Lantern. "You're slipping, brother. Must be because you haven't been in any good fights lately."

"That'll change if you keep that up, Strife," the one called War warned. "What shall we do with him?"

A hand touched the boy's left shoulder, causing the boy to let out a yelp. He would have screamed, but he had lost most of his voice during the destruction of the town. Turning to see who had touched him, he found himself face to face with what was possibly the most terrifying of the four strangers. This one had no face, only a mask that was bone white. The mask was devoid of any features, save for two long and narrow slits where the nose would be. Eyes the color of burning orange looked over the child, as if dissecting him with his gaze.

Suddenly, the boy started screaming, all thoughts of preserving his voice thrown to the wind. He felt as if his skin were bulging, about to burst. When he looked at his body, however, it looked absolutely normal. As quickly as he had felt the sensation, it left, leaving the child breathless.

"Impossible," the masked man said, his voice as dead and featureless as his mask.

"What, Death?" War asked, his voice troubled. "What is it?"

"This boy… he is one of us. A Nephilim."

"But it's as you said – impossible," Strife said, running to join his brothers. "They were… that is, we…"

Fury was now with them, and knelt before the child. "Little one," she asked, "what is your name?"

"I… I…" the boy struggled to speak, and to remember. "I don't remember."

"There's more," Death said, drawing attention back to him. "I felt incredible power inside the child. If I didn't know better, I'd say he was already imbued with power from the Charred Council."

Strife whistled and tussled the boy's dark brown hair. "Congratulations, kid. You impressed Death, something that many billions of beings have tried to do for centuries… and failed."

The others walked off, talking amongst themselves. The boy stood up, stretching his legs and thinking. A Nephilim? What on Earth was that? Even living in this town, who knew far more about the supernatural then most other towns on Earth, he had never heard of such a thing.

Fury came back, the other strangers mounting horses that hadn't been there before. "You don't have a home anymore, do you, little one?"

"N-no," the child replied, no longer scared, but sad.

"Well, my brothers and I are willing to take care of you. We will teach you all that we know, and provide what we took from you."

Fury picked up the child, cradling him in her arms. They then got on her horse, a magnificent animal with a mane of purple sparks.

"Hey, kid!" Strife called. Looking his way, the kid saw Strife toss a gun to him. It was very elegant, with a small dagger welded onto the side of the barrel. The boy looked at Strife, a questioning look on his face.

"If you're riding with us," Strife explained, "you're going to need that. Consider it a birthday present."

"What's its name?" the boy asked.

"It's called Forgiveness. And its owner is supposed to embody one thing – Redemption."

I don't own Darksiders. Please review!