And that up there, dear readers, is a drawing that I drew of Death. It's how I envision him to be without his mask and therefore what he looks like in this story.

I will praise thee; for I am fearfully and wonderfully made: marvellous are thy works; and that my soul knoweth right well. -Psalms 139:14

4

A still silence had drifted about the area. One that was loud, deafening almost, and was one that nothing could escape from. Every single shift of the black ash that coated the ground crackled and popped; even the wind sounded like someone was whispering, taking their long fingers and brushing them against the bare and dying trees, their creaks and moans soft and painful. The overcast was still above everything, blocking any sun and casting everything in a smooth, dying look. Nothing moved besides from the small particles of ash that had managed to be broken away from the rest by the soft breeze.

Somewhere, from the depths of the lake of ash, there was a noise. It was like someone yawning after a long nap, someone who had slept for centuries and was just finally stretching their arms up over their head. Even as it finished, a new breeze, one that wasn't following the first one, was blowing across the ash. A small snap of someone closing their mouth was just audible.

The first sign of movement came from the lake. A hand arose; fingers burst from the surface of the lake, still either ash or coated in it, and reached toward the sky before eventually curling down into its palm. Before long, it had sank back into the lake. Seconds passed. Minutes more passed before the lake moaned once more and something began to arise.

At first glance, it looked like a human. The head was missing; the obvious roll of its shoulders were the only giveaway that the figure was even closely related to the Kingdom of Man. Even then the ash was moving, working and hissing to create the arising creature as it created powerful waves that smashed against the charred beaches. As the creature moved closer to the beach, more features became clear. Two separate, muscular arms became clear as it waded through the ash. Muscles along its shoulders became visible. Hunched, every visible muscle through the thing's chest, back, and arms were clearly visible. And, as the creature continued to approach the beach, it became clear that the beast wasn't human.

It stumbled across the sand made of ash once it reached the shore, falling down to its hands and knees, pulling up its strange legs. Without a head, the beast looked strange. One could almost call it a minotaur; its top half was built more like a human, but the other half was more like an animal, with its double-kneed legs and wide, two-toed feet. Ash still moved along its hide, like blood or a swarm of bugs, and the thing growled deep inside of its chest, the deep rumble echoing for miles.

Convulsing, its arms snapped up to grab and pull at its chest. Desperate fingers pulled and yanked at its chest, ripping away large sections of ash and throwing them down onto the sand. And, instead of seeing muscle and skin underneath, only more ash was there. Eventually the beast stopped, instead performing a silent scream as its body arched upwards. A head grew and eventually burst through the empty space where it should be. Its mouth opened to reveal rows of sharp teeth, horns sprouted from the side of its head, a mane of blackened ash grew in a manner of seconds, a pair of ears growing. Then orange eyes appeared, casting their own eerie orange glow in the dark area.

Slamming down a hand, the beast paused as it caught its breath against the ground. Sounds began to rumble from the beast; its huge breaths would end with a soft growl, the occasional snort blew ash across the beach. But then it was moving again. Its shoulders shook at first and its head bowed down, its mane falling over its head to brush against the ash that it was on.

And then it was laughing.

Laughter continued to rumble through the beast as it stood. The ash that made up the beast was moving even faster now, spinning and swirling with a small humming noise like a horde of bees. The laugh was far from that; a madman couldn't have done better. The beast stumbled a few times as it stood shakingly to its feet before it finally stood erect, standing at exactly eleven feet tall and panting. As if it had been forgotten, a tail appeared then, snapping down to life and whipping across the ash beach.

It was then, back to its original form, that the beast began to shake. The ash seemed to squeal, screaming as it was shook off the beast's form and back down to the beach where it truly belonged. Replacing the ash grew pink skin first before thick, dark brown fur burst from it, which was shook out as by the beast. Tattoos that decorated the creature's arm suddenly became visible, cutting paths through the beast's fur to remain visible. Scars and burns randomly splotched the beast's body though the majority were gathered upon its chest and arms. Its mane was a darker cooler than the rest of his fur, which was thick and a deep tan in color. Certain features began to grow. Nails became like talons, the two-toed feet became hooves, and sharp ridges grew up from his tail. Its eyes opened once again, revealing an orange glow and a black slit as a pupil.

Now, with the fur and tattooes, it was only painfully obvious that a demon had just crawled up from that ash lake. And, if the voice or the body hadn't tipped you off, the language that it used once it had examined its new arms would have pushed you that way.

"Shit, I look even better than I did before," rumbled the demon with a snort, its voice deep and distinctively masculine.

There was a roar behind him. The demon whipped around, fangs bared and ears flattened against its wide head. Ash rippled across the surface of the lake, sending large waves to crash upon the beach in front of the demon; the others were heard but not seen with the dark fog that surrounded the lake. Another roar echoed around before a large shape burst free.

It looked like a head; truly, the only way to tell was the red glow that could have been eyes. Another large shape moved from the lake and the demon stepped back as a fingerless limb arose -a tentacle. Ash dripped off like water, causing the large demon to growl in annoyance as he flung off the dark particles. The red eyes blinked once, the glow ending for a few seconds, before the haze landed upon the demon.

"Alooc."

The demon flinched at the voice; it was loud, shrill, deep, and everything else at the same time. "Yeah, whatada want?"

There was a small silence. Alooc found his gaze narrowing as the silence seemed to wrap about his very presence, like how a disappointed parent just stands and stares at their child that has done wrong. Soon, however, the voice was speaking again. "I was assuming that I was bringing back a Demon Lord when I found one dead."

"I'm wounded," Alooc replied drily, placing a hand over his chest and tilting his head to the side. "My father is practically a level under Satan himself; think of his children as his minions."

The mouth roared again, red and orange flashing inside. It moved, opening and closing similar to that of a fish, before it roared again and slung its head back and forth. "I was expecting the Lord himself, not his best of a child."

Alooc growled in warning. "I shall forget that you said that."

"Indeed. While you are not what I was expecting, my plans do not change. You are useful at the moment to me."

The demon glanced to both sides before his eyes locked back upon the gaping mouth once more, his large hands curling into fists as he studied his situation. He had just been recreated by some mysterious ash. As a stronger demon, Alooc's death by the White Horseman would eventually end and he would be reborn, made to crawl back out of the lava of Hell and prove himself once more. Here, after this ash monster thing summoned him, Alooc's supposed death time had been only a few decades -much shorter than the others he had experienced. But the monster also knew that Alooc was in debt to it. Being made before his time always came with a price, even to a son of the infamous Lord Rasha.

Sinking down to his knees, Alooc smashed a hand into the ashy beach and bowed his head slowly. "What is that you need me to do?"

Fire burst from the mouth, sending bright sparks up into the air. "I have one thing that you must complete before you are done of my service and can return to whatever that you did before your death. There shall be no consequences, no hidden debts. This one thing that I ask of you is straightforward and I expect it to be done." The mouth paused and Alooc looked up, ear flicking.

"Exterminate the Horsemen."

Again, Alooc's ear twitched. He thought for a moment, considering the mouth's words. "That will be no easy task."

"It will be easier. I have taken their immortality to make me stronger and their connection to the Charred Council has been severed. At the moment, they are weaklings. Your job should be much easier now without the Council making them powerful any longer."

"They are still Nephilim."

Another small roar came from the mouth. "Not any longer. The only reminisce that they have of their pasts are their weapons and the weakened horses. Their names still strike fear in your heart."

"I am a Demon Lord, son of Rasha! I fear nothing!" Alooc stood with a growl, fur bristling and his teeth bared as he made an imposing figure upon the ashy beach.

"Then prove it."