Death lays their chin on their knuckles, a sullen sigh off their lips. The job that had been gifted to Death when they were created had always been hard. This year, however, was infuriating. The only thing to combat it would be the time when the humans found out what swords were and just started stabbing each other.
The other Horsemen, Death's friends, were the ones who caused them to work nights and nights without rest. War's work is easier to deal with. Death need only go to the places where War complains about the most. At least War protects the ones who were caught in the crossfire. Famine tries their best to keep the suffering to a minimum, giving food to the hungry before they can perish. But Famine is only one entity. If only the humans followed in their example...
The... last Horseman... usually never makes Death's workload taller. Their patience is too high. The humans, however... they finally cut it after all this time.
Pestilence hasn't made this much of a fuss since... 1918, I think, Death ponders. What could have happened that made them so furious?
Death relaxes on a bench, sighing loudly. There was a hospital nearby, utterly surrounded by pain and sorrow. This would be Death's next business trip. They would have to lead the sickly departed to their respective Heavens, Jannahs, Jahannams, Hells, whatever. Death sincerely hopes that Pestilence is at least helping the nicer humans in the many hospitals around the world. Perhaps some other deities are combatting Pestilence's work. Death smiles faintly. It wouldn't be so bad if that's true.
They get up from the bench and head towards the towering hospital. It's filled to the brim with the sick - some of them even being sick doctors. The humans should know better than to not acquire the correct equipment and such before curing the sick. Isn't that common sense? Now Death has more work to do.
The large hospital doors had no guards or anything to restrict Death from passing through. Well, guards or no guards, Death could pass through easily.
But before they walked in, Death clasped their hands together and bowed their head.
"Please, whoever watches over these humans, ensure that in their resting places they are happy and safe," Death prays quietly. "And for the humans who still have it in them to fight, protect them with your unwavering kindness and morality. Have them survive and stand tall to live another day."
A breeze that blows past Death tells them that they have been heard. And so, with yet another mournful sigh, they walk into the hospital.
They close their eyes. Around six on the second floor... fifteen on the third... Death feels a headache coming on. So they must do this manually with this many people around. What a terrible day...
Death walks silently up the stairs and moves around the doctors and nurses, who apparently do not know how to put on hazmat suits. Death snaps their fingers and places an idea in their heads. 'I will die without a hazmat suit and the proper equipment.' They pause in sudden revelation, inadvertently helping Death walk around easily.
"Ah... on this door. And this one as well," Death mutters to themself. They trace a finger on the doors, forming a smoky letter D, for deceased. This process continues for a few more floors. Except on the sixth, a certain doctor caught Death's view.
"Pestilence." Death smiles. "How wonderful to see you are in as much of a bother as I am."
The 'doctor' turns around and widens their discoloured eyes. Though in a hazmat suit and a visor, Pestilence still was obvious to Death.
"Death!" Pestilence stumbles backwards. They fumble for words as they stare down at Death who was emitting a severely terrifying aura. "I'm... I apologise for any work I have-"
"You should know me well enough that I don't want your apology for the extra work," Death snaps. "What are you doing, causing people to perish all over the Earth in this staggering amount? What did they do this time?"
"Oh, what didn't they do." Pestilence crosses their arms, this apparently a sore subject. "I'd talk about this with you now, but I'm afraid that I'm getting rather a lot of odd looks. We could spare a few minutes outside."
"I'm surprised you're even helping," Death says harshly. "The last time there was a pandemic, you only sat back and watched."
"I'm better now..." Pestilence sighs and shepherds Death out of the hospital. "I am sorry. I lost my temper on one of the humans. This is why I try not to talk to anyone."
The two Horsemen walk outside and to an abandoned cafe a block away from the hospital. In every country, there is a meeting place where the Four Horsemen talk about... other matters. This is one of those times, but Pestilence and Death are the ones who are most in touch with the living world right now.
"So." Death sits down on a chair and props their chin on their hands. "Explain?"
To this, Pestilence erupts in a rage, listing things the presidents of some countries have done and such. The mere volume shocked Death almost out of their chair.
"Have you heard about the 'War on Drugs' in the Philippines? War doesn't even want anything to do with it!" Pestilence yells angrily. "And what is it with some men these days - treating women as their property! I've said it before and I'll say it again: gender roles are a sham!"
"Yes, I really do agree with you on these-"
"Don't get me started on homophobia and racism. What is the point of it?! I will actually wring the neck of anyone who thinks that way!"
"Now, that won't actually solve anything-"
"And there's so much murder nowadays! They're just murdering for no reason now! You must have noticed how big the numbers you have had to lead this decade. And that orange idiot running the U.S. is most of the reason I lost my temper-!"
"Pestilence, that is enough!" Death stands up from the chair and flicks their forehead. "I understand why you lost your temper. But you have to understand that you cannot fight their battles. The humans have to deal with it themselves."
"The humans are idiots, Death," Pestilence groans. "I do acknowledge the humans who are smart enough to stand up against the things that their ancestors had started stupidly, but-"
"We can help, but not like this." Death gestures to the empty street outside the lonely cafe. This area of the city used to be filled with life. Now they all are hiding in their homes, fearful for their lives. "You can't murder those who are wrong. That's not how this world should work."
Pestilence crosses their arms and glances away. Though they take an elderly appearance, they do act like a child sometimes.
"I do agree that the things some humans have done are... worth punishing, but we are not the ones who should take that responsibility," Death continues. "I am disappointed but I can't show that to them. We have to be as unbiased as we can. Remember when you scolded War for accidentally starting World War Two?"
"...I still can't believe that they insulted Hitler to his face," Pestilence mutters, their mouth twitching slightly. They look back at Death and sighs. "Yes, I know that what I've done is wrong. I swear I'll help stop the spread."
"How fast do you think they'll find the vaccine?" Death asks.
"Hopefully soon. I do regret that I accidentally made you work so hard," Pestilence says honestly.
"Speaking of work, we should be off." Death moves around the table, leaving it cleaner than it was earlier. "I think I was on the last floor."
"Yes, I shouldn't be slacking off like this." Pestilence stands up and pushes the chair in in one fluid motion. "Let's go, shall we, Death?"
Death smiles as Pestilence joins them at the door. "Of course."
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