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    Summary

    The day they came, the sky ran red.

    Red like cherry candy. Red like blood.

    You watched on TV as the beginning of the end of the world was aired, live; as down the ramp of what must have been a spaceship came a white horse, shining and resplendent, bearing a rider that was the opposite - sallow faced and guant, arms too long and spindly with too thin skin stretching over fragile ribs.

    You knew it then. You knew it, as if the thought had been planted in your head, a seed of fear and wrongness. This is your end, you heard, in a voice as black and velvet as night, and with so much depth it was as if there were thousands speaking at once. It cleaved through your head: The first horseman has come.

    After that came a dreadful uncertainty: humanity was on its knees, floundering, woefully unprepared, and yet you still found hope. You learned that sometimes, hope does not come in the form you think it will.

    Sometimes, hope is eight strays that worm their way into your heart, regardless of whether you like it or not.

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    40,975
    Chapters:
    12/?
    Comments:
    70
    Kudos:
    144
    Bookmarks:
    43
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