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Description
When the Lamb opened the fourth seal, I heard the voice of the fourth living creature say, "Come and see!" I looked and there before me was a pale horse! Its rider was named Death, and Hades was following close behind him. They were given power over a fourth of the earth to kill by sword, famine and plague, and by the wild beasts of the earth.

— Revelation 6:7-8

The Rocky Mountains were always filled with dangerous sorts of creatures: Bears, cougars, wolves, all that sort. They also had their fill of bandits, savages, outlaws, all of that sort too. There was a danger, however, that very few people, if any, could be a witness to and live to tell the story.

One night, as a full moon hung high in the black and blue sky, a horse and it's rider made their way swiftly down a mountain trail. They saw a flickering light ahead of them and the faint sound of people crying out into the night. That seemed to boost their speed as they were soon upon them.

There was a wagon, laying in pieces on the road with it's occupants laying about the earth. They were dead, most of them anyway, with only a small number of them still clinging to the earthly plane. The horse and it's rider came upon the small fire they had made to survive the chilly night (as well as making a sort of signal for help), and as soon as they did, those who were suffering cringed in fear.

"What happened here?" the Rider asked, climbing off his horse. The creature, and it's Rider, seemed quite pale in the moonlight.

"We were attacked!" one of the survivors cried, holding a bleeding arm. He was shot by the looks of it. "They came out of nowhere and shot everyone before going for our cargo!"

"You managed to survive?" the Rider looked about. The smell of death and blood hung heavily in the air around him. "You are strong people..."

"We were saved by the grace of God," the other survivor, a young woman, sobbed, holding a bible and crucifix close to her. "Praise Him! Praise the Father for sparing our lives!"

"Will you help us, friend?" the male survivor begged, throwing an arm out to the Rider. "Please?"

"My horse," the Rider waved to his steed. "Could only carry two people at best. Surely, neither of you would want to stay here alone?"

He shook his head. "No, we don't, but if you could do us a service?" He pointed down the road. "We were on our way to a town a few days ride from here when we were attacked. I can't remember the name of it, but if you were to go into town and ask the sheriff there to come for us? We'd be mighty grateful."

The Rider looked at the two of them and crouched before the fire. His face was young, and he was handsome. He looked up from the fire, back at the two in front of him. "You two...seem to be in such pain. You look around and you see your friends and family dead at your feet, their lifeless eyes staring back at you while their blood gives life to the soil. That's not fair to go through, is it? Such death?"

"Death is a part of life," the woman whispered. "It's all part of the Lord's great plan for us."

The Rider nodded slowly. "That's one belief, yes." He lowered his head, the brim of his hat hiding his face. "However, what if I were to say that I could give you two something for your trouble? For your pain, for your agony?"

"What do you mean?"

"What if I could give you something that your Almighty God could not give you?"

"That's blasphemy! You cannot give what the Lord cannot, you are not greater than God!"

Again, he shrugged. "I repeat: that's one belief. But, it's true."

"What could you give us that the Lord Himself could not?"

He chuckled and lifted his head. His handsome face had changed noticeably: his eyes had become bestial and his mouth showed sharp, white teeth. "I'll show you!"

He fell upon them and their screams floated about the Rockies like a foul wind.

Somewhere nearby, at another campfire, was another rider. At the sound of the screams, the Second Rider rose to full height, a hand moving for the revolver resting at the it's hip. He had heard screams before, but that sort of scream was a special kind. One he had heard at only certain times.

"I knew I hadn't lost that bastard's trail!" The Second Rider pulled the revolver from it's holster and checked it. Inside were six silver bullets, ready to find a new home. "Our Father, who art in Heaven, hallowed by thy name..."

Description
When the Lamb opened the fourth seal, I heard the voice of the fourth living creature say, "Come and see!" I looked and there before me was a pale horse! Its rider was named Death, and Hades was following close behind him. They were given power over a fourth of the earth to kill by sword, famine and plague, and by the wild beasts of the earth.

— Revelation 6:7-8

The Rocky Mountains were always filled with dangerous sorts of creatures: Bears, cougars, wolves, all that sort. They also had their fill of bandits, savages, outlaws, all of that sort too. There was a danger, however, that very few people, if any, could be a witness to and live to tell the story.

One night, as a full moon hung high in the black and blue sky, a horse and it's rider made their way swiftly down a mountain trail. They saw a flickering light ahead of them and the faint sound of people crying out into the night. That seemed to boost their speed as they were soon upon them.

There was a wagon, laying in pieces on the road with it's occupants laying about the earth. They were dead, most of them anyway, with only a small number of them still clinging to the earthly plane. The horse and it's rider came upon the small fire they had made to survive the chilly night (as well as making a sort of signal for help), and as soon as they did, those who were suffering cringed in fear.

"What happened here?" the Rider asked, climbing off his horse. The creature, and it's Rider, seemed quite pale in the moonlight.

"We were attacked!" one of the survivors cried, holding a bleeding arm. He was shot by the looks of it. "They came out of nowhere and shot everyone before going for our cargo!"

"You managed to survive?" the Rider looked about. The smell of death and blood hung heavily in the air around him. "You are strong people..."

"We were saved by the grace of God," the other survivor, a young woman, sobbed, holding a bible and crucifix close to her. "Praise Him! Praise the Father for sparing our lives!"

"Will you help us, friend?" the male survivor begged, throwing an arm out to the Rider. "Please?"

"My horse," the Rider waved to his steed. "Could only carry two people at best. Surely, neither of you would want to stay here alone?"

He shook his head. "No, we don't, but if you could do us a service?" He pointed down the road. "We were on our way to a town a few days ride from here when we were attacked. I can't remember the name of it, but if you were to go into town and ask the sheriff there to come for us? We'd be mighty grateful."

The Rider looked at the two of them and crouched before the fire. His face was young, and he was handsome. He looked up from the fire, back at the two in front of him. "You two...seem to be in such pain. You look around and you see your friends and family dead at your feet, their lifeless eyes staring back at you while their blood gives life to the soil. That's not fair to go through, is it? Such death?"

"Death is a part of life," the woman whispered. "It's all part of the Lord's great plan for us."

The Rider nodded slowly. "That's one belief, yes." He lowered his head, the brim of his hat hiding his face. "However, what if I were to say that I could give you two something for your trouble? For your pain, for your agony?"

"What do you mean?"

"What if I could give you something that your Almighty God could not give you?"

"That's blasphemy! You cannot give what the Lord cannot, you are not greater than God!"

Again, he shrugged. "I repeat: that's one belief. But, it's true."

"What could you give us that the Lord Himself could not?"

He chuckled and lifted his head. His handsome face had changed noticeably: his eyes had become bestial and his mouth showed sharp, white teeth. "I'll show you!"

He fell upon them and their screams floated about the Rockies like a foul wind.

Somewhere nearby, at another campfire, was another rider. At the sound of the screams, the Second Rider rose to full height, a hand moving for the revolver resting at the it's hip. He had heard screams before, but that sort of scream was a special kind. One he had heard at only certain times.

"I knew I hadn't lost that bastard's trail!" The Second Rider pulled the revolver from it's holster and checked it. Inside were six silver bullets, ready to find a new home. "Our Father, who art in Heaven, hallowed by thy name..."