It is midnight now. The shadows undulate in such a way that someone watching could interpret them to be limbs.

(There is no one watching.)

(Not anymore.)

There is another being among the shadows, and he's moving too.

He idles along the streets, creeps among the shadows, skims through the air. As he passes, people are still. Air ghosts past their lips for the final time. They lie there, peaceful and voiceless.

(His steps are silent too, though one would expect his feet to crush the ashes that lie beneath them.)

He flows around the buildings like ink. After he passes them, the bricks have deep, tenebrous cracks that permeate the buildings from the roofs to the foundations. Mortar crumbles and windows splinter, shards of glass falling from steep heights to the ground below.

(It doesn't matter.)

(There's nobody to use them anymore.)

Though he drifts around idly, he is gradually drawing nearer to the centre square.

(It's the same place his sister made her debut)

He sees three figures standing alone.

His siblings are waiting for him.

He is not there, and then he is.

The air trembles as he approaches a corner. The others have already congregated there.

As he silently appears behind them, fading into view, Famine is the first to notice. "Hi," Famine says, voice silken.

The other two nod in greeting.

"Hello," he responds, voice mild.

He smiles.

War shivers, though she isn't cold.

"When did you get here?" She queries, even though she knows the answer.

"I never left," he replies.

(It is the truth, after all.)

(He is not like the others.)

"So," he says, "same time next week?"

His three siblings look at each other, meeting gazes and nodding in acknowledgement.

"We'll be there," affirms War.

"I'll be waiting," replies Death, before melting back into the shadows.

(The sun is rising.)

As if by an unspoken agreement, the three others take one last look at each other before turning around and going their separate ways. There are no heartfelt goodbyes or promises to keep in touch. They don't need them.

Each one walks away from the others without glancing back, before they fade into the light of the approaching dawn. They will see each other again soon.

After all, everybody loves a show.

(They are the four horsemen.)

(Goodnight.)