SpN challenge fic: The Horsemen Arrive; gen; PG
I wrote Apocalypse!crack... Possibly the most bizarre thing I have ever written (apart from that thing with the leprechauns which is only in one notebook and will probably never be inflicted upon the internet). Written for the spn_boc challenge. My chosen Blue Öyster Cult Song was 'The Horsemen Arrive' and for some reason the fic became... this.
Title: The Horsemen Arrive
Author: Mariana O'Connor
Characters: Dean, Sam, Death, Famine, War and Pestilence. Also featuring some souls of the damned.
Rating: PG
Time frame: post-series? I imagine
Pairing: none, gen
Disclaimer: I don't own the Winchesters, the Impala, the Horsemen of the Apocalypse or Blue Oyster Cult. I just <3 them a whole lot.
Summary: It's the End of the World... winchester style... sort of.
Notes: I know that Reapers aren't actually Death, but I took a few liberties.
“So this is it, huh?” Dean asked, leaning against the driver’s door of the Impala.
“I guess,” his brother replied, coming to stand next to him, a polystyrene cup in each hand.
“The end of it all, the big one, the final curtain?” He grabbed a cup from Sam and sipped at the coffee - his last cup if he wasn’t mistaken.
“mmhm…” Sam murmured, blowing at his own drink too cool it down. Perhaps a little futile, given the chasm of fire that now inhabited the place previously occupied by the coffee shop.
“Dude, Armageddon’s a bit of a let down. I expected it to be… more red?” The sky above them crackled ominously with lightning.
“I don’t know,” Sam shrugged, “the blue’s kind of atmospheric.” He glanced over the road to where a dragon stood, roaring, its head flung back.
“Yeah, but still - the Apocalypse?” Dean paused thoughtfully. “You know what this needs?” He turned and leaned in through the window of the car, watched by his bemused brother as one of the souls of the damned was thrown screaming overhead.
“What?”
“Some decent music.” He punched ‘play’ and cranked the volume up to full. Blue Öyster Cult blasted out from the speakers.
Sam laughed and shook his head in disbelief.
“The world is ending and you’re concerned with the background music?” A little distance from them the ground broke open and flames sprang up. “Shouldn’t we be trying to stop this?” he asked as a scream managed to make it past the barrier of rock music.
“Bit late now…”
“True.”.
“Seriously though, if this is the Apocalypse, then where are the horsemen?” Sam turned to him questioningly. “You know - the four horsemen of the Apocalypse: Death, Famine, Pestilence, War.”
“I know what they are, I’m just surprised you do.”
“Dude - BOC, Metallica, of course I know.” His younger brother threw back his head and laughed.
“Should have guessed.”
There was a scream that sounded more bestial than human and they turned towards the sound. Hooves sounded high above them and they looked up towards the sky.
“There they are…”
“Cool.” Dean took another swig of coffee and grinned, still staring upwards. “Hey….”
“What?”
“Dude, I know that chick.” He pointed at one of the riders rampaging above them. Sam’s jaw came dangerously close to dropping.
“Don’t tell me you hooked up with one of the horsemen of the Apocalypse.” His brother’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion.
“I… don’t remember.” He shook his head, “Maybe that means we’ll get let off easy.”
“More likely that we’ll be picked out for special tortures.” Sam countered. Dean glared at him, but let it rest, after all, it was the end of the world - you shouldn’t waste time arguing. They fell into silence again, observing as the scythe of the girl Dean may or may not have slept with cut down swathes of people.
“Did that place have pie?” Dean asked, finishing off the last of his coffee.
“Not any more…” his brother gestured to the fiery pit behind them, into which the lost souls were being herded.
“No more pie? Man, That sucks out loud!”
Title: The Horsemen Arrive
Author: Mariana O'Connor
Characters: Dean, Sam, Death, Famine, War and Pestilence. Also featuring some souls of the damned.
Rating: PG
Time frame: post-series? I imagine
Pairing: none, gen
Disclaimer: I don't own the Winchesters, the Impala, the Horsemen of the Apocalypse or Blue Oyster Cult. I just <3 them a whole lot.
Summary: It's the End of the World... winchester style... sort of.
Notes: I know that Reapers aren't actually Death, but I took a few liberties.
“So this is it, huh?” Dean asked, leaning against the driver’s door of the Impala.
“I guess,” his brother replied, coming to stand next to him, a polystyrene cup in each hand.
“The end of it all, the big one, the final curtain?” He grabbed a cup from Sam and sipped at the coffee - his last cup if he wasn’t mistaken.
“mmhm…” Sam murmured, blowing at his own drink too cool it down. Perhaps a little futile, given the chasm of fire that now inhabited the place previously occupied by the coffee shop.
“Dude, Armageddon’s a bit of a let down. I expected it to be… more red?” The sky above them crackled ominously with lightning.
“I don’t know,” Sam shrugged, “the blue’s kind of atmospheric.” He glanced over the road to where a dragon stood, roaring, its head flung back.
“Yeah, but still - the Apocalypse?” Dean paused thoughtfully. “You know what this needs?” He turned and leaned in through the window of the car, watched by his bemused brother as one of the souls of the damned was thrown screaming overhead.
“What?”
“Some decent music.” He punched ‘play’ and cranked the volume up to full. Blue Öyster Cult blasted out from the speakers.
Sam laughed and shook his head in disbelief.
“The world is ending and you’re concerned with the background music?” A little distance from them the ground broke open and flames sprang up. “Shouldn’t we be trying to stop this?” he asked as a scream managed to make it past the barrier of rock music.
“Bit late now…”
“True.”.
“Seriously though, if this is the Apocalypse, then where are the horsemen?” Sam turned to him questioningly. “You know - the four horsemen of the Apocalypse: Death, Famine, Pestilence, War.”
“I know what they are, I’m just surprised you do.”
“Dude - BOC, Metallica, of course I know.” His younger brother threw back his head and laughed.
“Should have guessed.”
There was a scream that sounded more bestial than human and they turned towards the sound. Hooves sounded high above them and they looked up towards the sky.
“There they are…”
“Cool.” Dean took another swig of coffee and grinned, still staring upwards. “Hey….”
“What?”
“Dude, I know that chick.” He pointed at one of the riders rampaging above them. Sam’s jaw came dangerously close to dropping.
“Don’t tell me you hooked up with one of the horsemen of the Apocalypse.” His brother’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion.
“I… don’t remember.” He shook his head, “Maybe that means we’ll get let off easy.”
“More likely that we’ll be picked out for special tortures.” Sam countered. Dean glared at him, but let it rest, after all, it was the end of the world - you shouldn’t waste time arguing. They fell into silence again, observing as the scythe of the girl Dean may or may not have slept with cut down swathes of people.
“Did that place have pie?” Dean asked, finishing off the last of his coffee.
“Not any more…” his brother gestured to the fiery pit behind them, into which the lost souls were being herded.
“No more pie? Man, That sucks out loud!”