It may seem that the four horsemen have existed since the beginning of the world. But this is not true. They are the anthropomorphic personifications of things that humans fear. Humans created them. They have been around for a long time, it is true, but there was a time that they did not exist.
It follows, therefore, that there was a time when they had not existed for very long. There was a time, when they were new to the whole 'riding out at the end of the world' thing, when they weren't quite sure what to do. Back then, there were five of them. Back then, they were new on the job, and like all new employees, no matter what job it is, the first time they ever rode out on a world, it was a very small world indeed.
–
It is very rare for an anthropomorphic personification to feel nervous, but Death, War, Famine, Pestilence, and Kaos were managing it quite well. Thank you very much.
DO ANY OF YOU KNOW WHERE WE'RE GOING?
"Why would we?" Hissed Pestilence. "You have the map."
ME? Asked Death. KAOS HAS IT.
"I gave it to war," said Kaos.
They all looked at War, who tried desperately to remember what he had done with the map. "Oh!" He said. "I gave it to Famine."
Four pairs of flaming and/or glowing eyes turned their attention to Famine, who was holding a large amount of 'No Map'. He looked down at his skeletal horse, rather guiltily. "I was hungry," he muttered.
YOU'RE ALWAYS HUNGRY, Death pointed out.
"I know. I'm sorry."
YOU SHOULD GET MORE PROTEIN IN YOUR DIET.
–
In the end, the five horsemen of the apocalypse were almost late for the first 'gig', as Kaos had so... interestingly termed it. They arrived at the tiny mountain on the edge of the small villaige that would one day be the largest city on the Disc, only a few minutes before they were due to ride out again.
"This is where the world is supposed to end?" Pestilance asked, sceptically.
"Not theworld," corrected Kaos. "A world."
"What's the difference?" Asked War.
"Well," said Kaos, "All this..." he waved his arms vaguely. Pestilence ducked and sneezed. "Is the world. It's where everyone and everything exists. But here," he gestured to the little cabin. "Is someone's world. And it's about to end."
"So we're riding out on a cabin?" Famine asked. "I don't know. It just doesn't seem as exciting as I thought it would."
"Well, we have to start somewhe- What are you doing?" Kaos frowned at Death.
Death grinned* (*Not that he had much choice) at Kaos. LISTENING, he said.
"Listening to what?" War asked.
THE SCREAMING, Death said.
"What screaming?" Famine asked, slightly stupidly.
THE LOUD SCREAMS OF PAIN THAT ARE COMING FROM THAT CABIN, Death elaborated. He paused, and then continued, LOOK, IF WE'RE GOING TO RIDE OUT ON THE- ON THIS WORLD, WE NEED TO DO IT SOON. THE WAY THINGS ARE SOUNDING, I'LL NEED TO COLLECT A SOUL OR TWO, SOON.
"Right!" said War, decisively. He rode towards the cabin, followed by the others.
It was lucky that the five horsemen of the apocalypse* (*and the five horses of the five horsemen of the apocalypse) weren't bothered by things like solid walls and furniture, because the cabin was tiny. They had to resort to sitting outside the cabin and sticking their heads in to see what was going on.
"What's all this?" Pestilance asked. "It doesn't look like the end of the-"
"A."
"-World."
The, a, whichever way you chose to look at it, no world seemed close to ending. Inside the cabin, a psudeodoctor, the only kind found on the Discworld, whispered to a worried looking young man, while a woman-his wife- writhed in agony on a bed even more rickety than the cabin.
"Well... we came all this way," Kaos pointed out. "Might as well see what happens next."
They listened to the man and the psudeodoctor talk together. The man said, "Is she really dying?" The quack nodded, and the man's hands shook. He had bags under his eyes and looked like he hadn't slept in a week. "She can't die!" he yelled. "She can't!" The quack awkwardly patted the man on his back, looking like he'd rather be almost anywhere else. After a moment, the man said in a quiet, hopeless voice, "What about the baby?"
"Ah," said the doctor. "Well, it's only five months along. "Without Thereasa, it won't be able to survive."
"Are you sure?"
"Completely."
There was a sudden increase in the volume of screams from the woman. Then, they suddenly faded away. The man stared at the bed, and then gave an animalistic howl. He ran from the house.
"I don't get it," said War. "Whose world ended?"
THE BABY'S, said Death. The others looked at him, blankly. Death elaborated, THE BABY'S WORLD IS IT'S MOTHER. THE MOTHER JUST DIED.
The others considered this, as Death did his Duty. Then, one by one, they turned around and rode out, away from one unborn child's personal apocalypse. They rode until they were miles away from the cabin in the little village. After a while, they reigned in their horses, and Famine said, "Let's not do that again."
War and Pestilance nodded. Kaos protested. "Come on, guys!" he said. "I need the extra cash."
"You know this job doesn't pay anything, right?" Famine asked.
Kaos said, "...It might. Someday. If we get good enough at it."
"I don't think it's that kind of a job," said Pestilence.
WHAT DO YOU NEED THE MONEY FOR, ANYWAY? Death asked.
"I'm saving up so I can buy my own dairy," Kaos said, a hint of pride in his voice.
It is a well known fact that when someone is confronted with a clearly impossible idea, their brain will simply pretend that it does not exist.
Death, Pestilence, War, and Famine completely ignored the fact that Kaos was planning to become a milkman.
"Well," Pestilence relented, "Maybe we can just cut down on that kind of apocalypse."
"It makes me feel kind of queasy," said Famine, completely ignoring the fact that he rarely had enough in his stomach to throw up.
"Of course," said Kaos. "But you know, I have this feeling that this is going to be the job that makes us famous!"
–
A/N: Lol. Yea, I know it's terrible. Also, I haven't read anything about Death except Thief of Time and Mort, so if I accidentally contradicted anything that happened after that... well, oops.