Horseman of Death

𝔽𝕠𝕣 𝕨𝕙𝕠 𝕤𝕙𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕕𝕖𝕗𝕚𝕝𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕖𝕞𝕡𝕝𝕖𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕒𝕟𝕔𝕚𝕖𝕟𝕥 𝕘𝕠𝕕𝕤, 𝕒 𝕔𝕣𝕦𝕖𝕝 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕧𝕚𝕠𝕝𝕖𝕟𝕥 𝕕𝕖𝕒𝕥𝕙 𝕤𝕙𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕓𝕖 𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕗𝕒𝕥𝕖, 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕟𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝕤𝕙𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕤𝕠𝕦𝕝 𝕗𝕚𝕟𝕕 𝕣𝕖𝕤𝕥 𝕦𝕟𝕥𝕠 𝕖𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕥𝕪. 𝕊𝕦𝕔𝕙 𝕚𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕔𝕦𝕣𝕤𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝔸𝕞𝕦𝕟-ℝ𝕒, 𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕠𝕗 𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕘𝕠𝕕𝕤.

𓂀 Creator of all things

𓂀 Patron god of the pharaohs

𓂀 God of air, sun & all things

𝘑𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘊𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘢𝘩𝘢𝘯

𓂋𓏏 𓈖𓂋 𓏏𓂋 𓈖𓂋𓀀

ᴛʀᴇᴀꜱᴜʀᴇ ʜᴜɴᴛᴇʀ
ʀɪᴄʜ ( ᴰⁱᵈ ᴵ ᵐᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿ 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 ? )
ʙᴇʟᴏᴠᴇᴅ ʙʀᴏᴛʜᴇʀ
ʜᴀɴᴅꜱᴏᴍᴇ

“Still haunted by dreams? A small price to pay for what you experienced and yet you survived. And that is precisely why I am here. Where is your brother? Will he make a grand entrance soon or can we speak frankly?”

“Wrong? Why would you think that? Is it because I am Death and yet I humbled myself to find you and eventually your brother in these types of establishments?”

Keeping his eyes on Sam, he steps closer though his face reveals nothing. -

If only these insignificant creatures would get their acts together and learn to look at the bigger picture.

Instead this one was having recurring dreams of his time in the hellscape. That certainly wouldn’t do.

As a crack of lightning illuminated the room, Death stepped forward.

“Hello Sam.”

He was better than this. Imagine Death having to lurk around cheap motels in order to find one of the Winchesters.

It was undignified.

As old as he was and as much power as he wielded, he too was bound by certain constraints. Now he was close to finally being set free. So close. —

You know you can’t cheat death.

He wasn’t known for his patience and already Death could see the small blade tucked into his hands.

“I presume you don’t know who I am so I’ll save you the time of trying to find out and tell you myself. I am Death and you and I? We have things to discuss.”

“You’re not eating. There are starving children in the world and you’re ignoring your meal. That’s rather rude Ivar.”

Wiping his hands on a napkin, he knows it’s time to come clean as to his purpose before Ivar got stabby. +

As he thanks the waitress and she leaves, he calmly takes one of the small plates left behind, takes a napkin and then picks up one of the wings covered in the spicy sauce he so loved.

Dipping it into the dressing, he chews thoughtfully and swallows, secretly pleased at how tasty they were. +

The man was ruthless, wild and I predictable especially for his young age but he was exactly who Death needed.

Their stare off is interrupted briefly by their drinks and food being dropped off. +

As she leaves to place his order, he looks at the young man sitting directly in front of him, a baffled expression on his face.

Death understood it. He understood that people did not just sit in front of Ivar Lothbrok and chat, not even his own brothers. +

Broody. Alert. Eyes constantly moving. He was restless.

trusted no one. Except perhaps…

Walking over, he calmly sits in front of the young man and signals to the waitress.

“Bring us two baskets of the spicy wings and a coke for me and a refill for my friend here. Thank you.” +

He wasn’t wrong but in the eons he’d been on earth, he could admit privately that these types of food were one of the few redeeming qualities humanity had.

He scans the room and immediately sees the man he was seeking. +

He nods in approval as he now knows what he will order. Pizza. Burgers. Soda. Chicken wings. He remembers some pesky human once pointing out his love of greasy American fast food. +

If there was one thing Death enjoyed more than anything, it was fried fast food. Looking at a waitress walking by holding her tray, he zeroes in not only the drinks placed there but the basket of what could only be spicy buffalo wings. +

They had important matters to discuss. Not that the man was aware yet of what Death had in mind. He would know soon enough.
The smell of beer and liquor was an offense to his senses but there was an underlying scent of fried food. +

☆ 𝘋𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩 𝘞𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘴 𝘐𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘈 𝘉𝘢𝘳 - 𝘈 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘭 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 @aheartofwar.bsky.social ☆

Death walks into a bar…

It sounded like the beginning of a truly terrible joke yet here Death was. Entering a bar whilst looking for the man he was going to speak to. +

᯽𝐼 𝒉𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑑 𝑡𝒉𝑒 𝑣𝑜𝑖𝑐𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑡𝒉𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑡𝒉 𝑏𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑡 𝑠𝑎𝑦, 𝐶𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑠𝑒𝑒. 𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝐼 𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑘𝑒𝑑, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑏𝑒𝒉𝑜𝑙𝑑 𝑎 𝑝𝑎𝑙𝑒 𝒉𝑜𝑟𝑠𝑒: 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝒉𝑖𝑠 𝑛𝑎𝑚𝑒 𝑡𝒉𝑎𝑡 𝑠𝑎𝑡 𝑜𝑛 𝒉𝑖𝑚 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝐷𝑒𝑎𝑡𝒉, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝐻𝑒𝑙𝑙 𝑓𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑑. ᯽