Stupid Thieves of Apocalypse - Writers Forum

Aevin · 04-16-2004, 02:27 PM

I'm reposting this story after the site's big problem on the offbeat chance anyone else was planning to comment on it. Any opinions would still be very much appreciated!

The Stupid Thieves of Apocalypse
by Dark Aevin

A little blond boy sat next to a campfire in the night, the flame illuminating his round, pleasant face with its dark orange aura. Beside him slept a woman, the object of his interest, her bare feet nearly touching his knee beneath his black shorts. Her legs beneath her skirt were bare, as well, for as far up as he could see--far enough, he thought. For in spite of the dainty way the woman slept, the child could see practically everything--enough, anyway, to thoroughly arouse him, were it not for the thick slurping and crunching of Famine on the other side of the fire.

Slowly, the boy's gaze roved from the woman's legs to the huge man seated across from him. At first glance, one would guess Famine to have little energy, none to spare after rolling his massive body from place to place, but when it came to eating, no animal could match Famine's frenzy of energy. As he guzzled his pile of God-knew-what, his pale fat rolls, soaked with gravy, vibrated so intensely it seemed like he was being whipped. Famine's lips and chin were thickly coated with a mixture of syrup, chocolate, gravy, grease, and the blood of small animals. As the child watched, Famine snatched up a hunk of cheese and tore into it, and saliva trickled over the white, hole-filled object like the juice of a fruit.

Noting that Famine's attention was occupied, the child turned back to the woman. True, this was hardly the most erotic of scenarios, but when you were a thief, you stole what you could, be it sex or life.

Reaching out one of his delicate hands, the boy placed it flat against the woman's smooth leg. He extended his arm and allowed his hand to slide smoothly upward over the woman's flesh, up . . . up. . . . When he passed her knee, he bent his fingers and let them creep spider-like up her thigh, higher and higher. . . .

"You shouldn't do that, you know."

From the cloying odor of food and the rapid gnashing of teeth that accompanied the words, the boy knew it was Famine who was speaking to him.

The boy did not divert his attention from the "spider" on the woman's leg. "Why?" he asked calmly. "It's causing no trouble. She sleeps almost as soundly as my victims. Besides," the little boy smiled lecherously, "I think she'll enjoy what I've got in mind."

Famine tried speaking, but suddenly choked on a piece of ham fat. He had to swallow viciously before he could speak, but the boy waited patiently, his tiny fingers drumming playfully on the woman's thigh.

"I was thinking more about Pestilence," Famine gargled through his meat. "If he catches you, there'll be trouble."

The boy grinned, but withdrew his hand all the same. His arm span had reached its limit, anyway. "I don't know what you mean, pig. We're all friends here, aren't we? What could Pestilence do to me?"

Famine poured a bottle of syrupy wine down his throat. When he finished, he didn't answer the child's question. Instead, he said to the boy, "You're so mischievous, Death."

Death smiled still wider. "You're such a glutton, Famine."

That made the pale mound of fat giggle so that he almost choked on his food again. "It's true!" he slimed. "It's true! Pretty tasty, though." Rummaging through his pile of food, he carefully removed a morsel--one that appeared to be the entire hindquarter of a large sheep--and offered it to the boy.

Death's bright blue eyes grew dull with disgust. "I'll pass, thank you."

"No, really. I've got plenty. Stealing from those mortals gives me food in abundance." He smiled, revealing scraps of meat and vegetables lodged in his teeth. "Leaves them lacking, though."

Death glared at him with cute little eyes. "If I desired food, I'd steal it myself," he said. "But I prefer loot of a more potent crop. You know the life of mortals is my only sustenance."

Famine shrugged. "Suit yourself." So saying, he tore into the meat with his teeth. Still chewing, he glanced up. "Hey. War's awake!"

Surprised, Death turned to see that yes, the woman was sitting up and watching them with half-lidded eyes. "How long have YOU been awake?" he asked, irritated.

"No worry," War said, her voice tranquil and stupid. "I didn't hear anything . . . naughty." She giggled.

Death rolled his eyes. War was always peaceful and complacent; he could say anything he wanted and never make her angry. War was easily the most agreeable in their gang of thieves, but God was she DUMB! On the whole, Death liked War better when she was asleep.

Watching him, War blinked her dazed green eyes. "Is it my imagination, or have you grown smaller, little man?"

Death blushed with irritation. "Maybe."

"Isn't that nice? Why don't we go on a raid together, little boy? Would you like that? I'm feeling a little restless, myself."

War did not look restless. In point of fact, she looked like she was OD-ed on tranquilizers. Death did feel like doing a little thieving, but he preferred to work alone. With disgust, he remembered the last time War had invited him along. She had stuttered for about ten minutes trying to explain that she wanted to go steal the tranquility of mortals. She had tried about sixty variations of the word "tranquility" before Death had screamed at her to "just say 'Peace,' dammit!" She responded to his outburst with a blank look and the words, "Okee-Dokee, little man!" That was the last time he had seriously considered going on a raid with War.

"No, thanks," he said sarcastically. "I think I've been overdoing it lately. If I don't slow down a little, I'll be back in diapers in no time. And wouldn't THAT be embarrassing. Talk about inconsistent iconography." He thought briefly about the pictures mortals drew of him--an ancient, skeletal creature hidden inside a black cloak--and couldn't help but smile.

At the mention of Death in diapers, Famine exploded with laughter, spraying globs of cracker crumbs and raw hamburger into the air.

"Yeah," War agreed, nodding her head genuinely. "Icono-- . . . How embarrassing."

Suddenly, Pestilence returned from his stealing expedition, shirtless. Wasting no time, he headed directly for War. "Check this out, wench. AAAAARRRGH!" Bending his arms, he flexed his impressive muscles for War, and his smooth, tanned skin drew tight from the pressure of his massive flesh. "What do you think of THAT, huh?"

War giggled wearily and flicked a hand at him. "You're a sweet wench, as well," she said. "And a strong one, too!"

While Pestilence continued flexing for War, Death cocked an eyebrow. "I take it from your bulging masculinity the pickings were especially good?"

"Well, you be the judge," Pestilence said. He walked closer, and flexed his muscles enthusiastically in front of Death.

The little boy's face remained slack. "Impressive."

"Hell, yeah!" Pestilence exclaimed. "Robbing mortals of their health is like stealing candy from babies! I'm ready for more already. You never can be too healthy, I always say."

Death agreed, eager to be rid of him.

"Hey War! You wanna come with?"

"Oh, sure!" she exclaimed brainlessly. "I have to do a little stealing myself. I'm starting to run low on . . ." she glanced at Death, ". . . peace."

Pestilence grinned--a big, straight toothed, white smile. "Sounds great! You ready? And when we're done, maybe we can do a little . . . TANGO!" He winked at Famine, who once again sprayed food everywhere with his laughter.

"Dancing?" mused War vacantly. "That would be LOVELY."

Almost groaning aloud, Death watched the two of them wander to where the horses were tied. His own horse was the smallest, a perfect little pony, the only one small enough for him to manage. He watched Pestilence help War onto her mount, watched him glance up her red skirt, watched him insult her, watched her giggle obliviously.

Famine watched too as they departed, but when Death glanced at him, the boy saw, not disgust, but longing. Famine's pile of food was becoming suspiciously small. "Hey, Death," Famine began. "Do you wanna--"

"Don't even ask," Death snapped, rolling his baby blue eyes.

Kat · 04-18-2004, 06:38 PM

I liked it before and still do. It shoudl be longer. You don't want it to end.

AntiThesis · 04-20-2004, 04:17 AM

agreed

Dragonscales · 05-23-2004, 04:27 PM

I like it as well, interesting take on the four horsemen of the apocalypse. Interesting decision to use a woman in the role of War and a man in the role of Pestilence as well. Most people usually do it the other way around, having War as a man and Pestilence as a woman. The part with Pestilence flexing his muscles was particularly humourous I found, made me laugh anyway, think it was the ARRRRGH! that did it lol The story sort of gives the impression that the horsemen/woman (Horsepeople?) are a kind of rag-tag band of robin hood-like merrymen whom are kind of a little bumbleheaded. I mean that in a completely good way though as it adds a comical depth to what could otherwise be a bit of a boring story if not carried through correctly, not that I believe that you wouldn't be capable of making it work even without the humour. A little more elaboration on why Death seems to be getting smaller would be nice though, and I agree with the others that it shouldn't end there. Nice work

Aevin · 05-24-2004, 12:54 PM

I thought this story was dead at last, doomed to sink into the abyss of the lower pages. . . .

Pestilence is actually partially inspired by my younger brother. He works out a lot, and he is plenty muscular. The "AARGH!" noise is something he sometimes does when he's pretending to be the strongest man alive. Death's flat, sarcastic reaction of "Impressive" is about what my reaction is on these occasions when my brother goes crazy. Fortunately, these episodes are rare, and he is not as bad as the character in the story. Not quite.

Also, if you didn't get this, Death is supposed to be getting smaller for the same reason he is young. He steals life energy from humans, and my reasoning is that the younger you are, the closer you are to birth and the further you are away from death, in general. Therefore, by stealing life energy for himself, Death is killing (or aging) humans while becoming younger himself. The trick is to explain this in the story without breaking the tone. I originally had something in there that explained this more, but I chose to remove it.

Anyway, thanks for the comment, and I'm glad you enjoyed the story.

Dragonscales · 05-25-2004, 12:22 PM

ah ok, I thought that was the idea in regards to death, just wanted to know for sure

lol as for the ARGH! That's the exact picture I got while reading that part, like pestilence thought he was the strongest person alive and showing it too, again, great job, I loved the story and stick with my opinion that you should continue writing it