• She stood on the upstairs landing, her french doors wide open despite the pending storm. The sky was an un-natural color of orange, clouds beginning to twist lazy circles above the house. It was almost time.
    Death, decaying grass, trees and shrubs all across the valley. Not one flower to rise to her departure. She finishes brushing her long blonde hair, feeling the red rose begin to wither already. Her pristene white dress takes on the colors of the shadows as fear begins to grip her. Tendrils of cloud begin to leak onto the ground like the fingers of God; the fingers coming to find her.
    Seemingly in slow motion she re-enters the house, stopping by a rusty cradle. Her once bright-eyed child now looks straight through her, as if she`s already gone. She stretches her hand out to touch the baby one last time, but the baby begins to shreik so she snatches her hand away.
    Shaken already she begins to decend the stairs, everything behind her growing gray and falling apart. Above the house a trumpet sounds, dull and listless, but its job done nontheless. Demons begin to pour from the shadows in the house, her color begins to fade. Blonde hair fades to a dull brown, bright green eyes blink out like the stars, her rings fall off as if eaten by acid.
    In the living room she finds her lover, his back to her as he sits silently, staring at the wall. The spot straight before his eyes is the only clean spot left as her shadow hits the wall. Drywall crumbles into dust, and pictures fall from the nails in the wall, glass shattering on the ground around them . She reaches out to touch him but he pulls away.
    Hurt, she opens her mouth to call his name as he rises and leaves her standing there, hand outstretched towards him. His cold eyes look straight through her, then he exits. Her tears begin to freeze, shattering into tiny fragments around her bare feet. Cloved hooves begin to prance around the house, and her name is called again and again.
    She reaches the front door, knowing the destruction she`s left behind in her wake. She can feel Him standing there, their child silently sleeping in his arms, the arms that once held her as she cried at night. The door shatters at her touch, flying outward with no force at all. Four horsemen stand around a circle.
    With one last breath she steps across the threshold, not even gasping as her feet land within the circle and the riders run her through. With her last breath she emits a sob, and fades from life as a wave of sadness crushes the house. She knows that they will go above her as she burns below, but she is a willing sacrifice.