He mounted his pale steed and rode back toward the ridge, leaving the survivor alone with his empty rifle and the moans of the hungry dead—neither Heaven nor Hell caring which side won, because neither side was left to keep score.
Through the scope, he saw Death. The pale rider had dismounted. He wasn’t reaping souls. He was standing over a fresh body, one hand hovering above its chest. For the first time in eons, Death looked confused. darksiders dayz
The survivor pulled the trigger. The bullet passed through Death’s cloak, harmless. Death turned, skull-face impassive. He mounted his pale steed and rode back