DISCLAIMER: Yada yada we all know the drill Darksiders I and II all characters related to said games belong to Vigil Games and THQ not me. Also the idea of the Horsemen not killing the Nephilim is Aragem's idea. I did ask permission before using this so no one can bitch about it and you should read her story "White Mask" either on this site or for the uncensored version, its pretty amazing, anyway onto da story. (yes I am lazy and copy pasted the disclaimer) and a thanks to Maverick Hunter Phoenix for the fav and review.

Chapter: Once a Slave, Always a Slave

War walks with his older brother into a large room that had been made into a workshop of sorts with a long workbench. The white haired Nephilim walks over to a large bench and sits on it, "So have you thought of my offer for a slave or are you still keeping such pleasures from yourself, Death."

The darker of the two would let out a low barely audible growl, "I have no need for such fancies, brother." Death, as he's called, moves over to the long work bench and lays the gauntlet down and gathers several odd looking tools from a holder, "Besides, I don't need to be caring after a weak, crying human that will only beg and plead to be set free."

War sighs and leans back against the bench, "I know you fancy your slaves Death but allow the souls to rest in peace. You need a new outlet for all your rage and hatred, allow the poor souls to rest and take up a living human to help you." War watches as Death pulls out a long curved tool with the tip shaped like a small hook.

"You know my answer War; don't push my patience it's on a short fuse right now." Death opens the top of the gauntlet and begins to move the hooked tool around in the gauntlets workings, clicks and clanks sounding out as the gears and inner workings are rotated around. War watches with little interest and seems to be rather persistent in this matter.

"Brother how about a deal. You keep a slave or two just for awhile and in that time if you don't like them you can bring them back or kill them, or whatever you want. You can keep your corpse of a lover while you test these out but if you like them, you have to set your raised slaves souls free." War kicks up his feet and crosses the ankles, completely relaxed.

Death sighs and pulls the tool out, grabbing another that looks like a miniature spear and begins to poke around in the gauntlet, letting the gears click against it, "You're lucky I like you, your honorable ways are hard to deal with sometimes." Death pulls the tool out as the gauntlet clenches on its own and slowly releases, "Fine, just to humor my closest brother, I'll make the deal." Death pulls the gauntlet up and walks over to War, "You just jammed a joint gear, nothing major."

War smirks under his hood and reaches up and takes the gauntlet and reattaches it to his arm flexing the hand, "Like new, thanks you, Death. I'll go have the human's lined up so you can choose which one you want." Death sighs and shakes his head as he puts his tools back into place and goes about collecting a collars of bone and heads downstairs where War would have all the humans lined up for inspection like cattle.

Abramo looks up at the stairs, wondering why they'd all been pulled out of the room, unbound and lined up naked in front of the stairs, his answer came to him as Death appeared and started to walk down the stairs. Miyako and the young woman Abramo had talked to would be next to each other both shaking in the cold of the room. Abramo looks over the young woman from behind, her body shapely, not the disturbing skinny figure of the model but not fat either, shapely and pale her back bearing tattoos on her back in the form of two anime bat wings. Miyako would be much slimmer and just as pale, but her body showing more muscle then the young woman from the cage.

Abramo's eyes would move up to the ghastly form of the cadaverous Nephilim as he walks around and in-between the rows of humans. One thing Abramo notices is that the other Nephilim give this one a rather wide distance, backing up whenever he got closer and never looking him in those burning ember like eyes. Abramo nearly stops breathing as the Nephilim stops in front of the young girl who refuses to make eye contact with this creature.

The other Nephilim watch curiously as Death leans over so his mask is nearly touching her face, "Tell me little one, how old are you?" The girl shivers and covers her full breasts with her arms, "I... I'm twenty-two." Death tilts his head and stands back up and circles around the young woman, "What's your name?" The young woman shivers again, tears dripping down her face, "Maria." Death grabbed her by the shoulder and leads her towards War before circling back through the human's and stopping at Abramo and lowering his head, staring right into Abramo's eyes, freezing the very blood in his veins. Abramo hadn't noticed it before but now being so close to this creature he noticed a rather thick chain around its neck with a large glowing green crystal on the end, silver encasing it and small skulls decorating it, he could almost swear he heard wailing coming from the jewel. Death grabs his shoulder and leads him towards War as well before doing a last cycle and going over to Miyako and pulling her to War as well.

Death looks over his three new slaves and then up to War, "Happy brother? I'll keep these three here with me until I'm summoned to Absalom's palace in a week's time." War gives an ever so small smile at his brother, "Of course Death." The three human's freeze up at hearing the name, Abramo instantly recognizing the mask now, several portraits from wars and past events with massive lose of life, had depicted 'death' as this very creature.

The smaller of the two Nephilim grunts, "Take them to their new rooms and get them situated for dinner. I insist that I feed all of you, after all, you are my guests." Death slowly ascends the stairs again leaving a group of very pale Nephilim and humans.

War turns back to the three chosen human's and motions them to follow, which they did obediently. War lead them into a rather lavish room with three large canopy beds with black silk sheets, blanket, and pillows, a large oak table in the center with two couches, and a large desk with a small chair, even a small fire place framed a bare wall. War turned around and looked down at the humans, "This will be your new home for awhile, try not to piss Death off, and he's rather short tempered these days thanks to Strife. If you three have any questions, now is the best time to ask."

Abramo looks up at the massive Nephilim, "What will happen to us? What is he? Why have you even come to Earth?" Abramo couldn't help himself; he needed answers to the many questions flying around in his head like small buzzing bees.

War holds up his normal hand to quite the line of questions, "First, if you do what my brother asks then you'll likely be better off than a majority of your race so nothing will happen if you do what you're told, second 'he' is my brother, Death, a firstborn, and third we came here because it's in our nature destroy races and their home planets, we are lead by the first Nephilim, Absalom and we follow him loyally from planet to planet."

Miyako was the next to speak up, "What is this, 'firstborn'?"

War looks at her for a moment, "It is as it sounds, 'firstborn' meaning basically a first generation created after Absalom, they are some of the oldest and most powerful of our race, they are like mentors, leaders, role models of sorts."

Finally Maria spoke in a timid voice, "Why do they fear Death as they do, if he is a Firstborn shouldn't they respect him, not fear him?"

War gives a slight smirk, "As I'm sure you've noticed Death isn't like the rest of us, he is a Firstborn Nephilim but he's…different in many ways, he's near invulnerable and has never been hurt in battle to the point where it impaired him, he's also our first and most powerful crafter, forming some of your greatest weapons. They respect him but their respect is covered by their fear of him."

Abramo looks down at his feet with a frown, "Why does he look like that?"

War frowns a bit, "That is a bit harder to explain. You've noticed of course a majority of Nephilim are thicker built, incredibly strong. Death may lack the powerful strength that most of our race has but in its place is agility, cunning, and a dark magic known to even your race as necromancy, his body was the first clue to his power, and it's the way he was created."

Before another question could be answered an unhealthy looking woman walks in her skin the same shade as Death's and her bones showing through her skin a bit showing her to be underfed. The most notable aspect of this ghastly woman is her eyes which are milked over with white showing her true nature. In this poor woman's arms are two dresses similar to her own, tight fighting one a sickly green and the other a dark purple both barely having any material to cover the breasts and a low cut back, showing the top of the buttocks and the showing the sides of the abdomen.

War nods to the woman, "This is one of Death's current slaves, a human female that he killed by impaling her with his scythe Harvester." War runs a finger over a long, gruesome hole in the woman's dress and stomach, showing a bit of internal organs, "Death rarely keeps living creatures for company, even his own brethren, instead he forces the soul of the dead back into the body and bends them to his will, forcing them to do as he pleases. If I were you three I'd remember this woman least you become like her yourselves." War moves around her as she walks over to Miyako and Maria with the dresses holding them out, "You better dress for my brother, I'm sure he won't be joining us for dinner so I'm sure he'll be up to see you three himself." War closes the door behind himself and the corpse of a woman goes and sits in a corner.

The two women look at each other before sliding into the dresses, fitting snuggly around their curves perfectly to show off their bodies. Miyako grimaces as she walks over to a mirror and looks at herself, "I look like an expensive whore from the street corner in a rich neighborhood." Maria sighs and tires to cover the exposed parts of her breasts, "I feel like I'm not wearing anything." Abramo frowns and looks up as Death walks in, inspecting the two woman by walking around them, touching their shoulders and hair.

"Not bad, a little lively for my tastes but to keep War happy I'll give you two a chance to prove that living flesh is better than dead." Death turns his attention towards Abramo and tosses him a leather loin cloth and a big hunk of bread he'd been carrying, "Here, put that one and go downstairs to eat with my brethren and the rest of the slaves. Your job will be to take care of these two women so until I'm done you will stay away from this room." Abramo stands up and puts the loin cloth on and moves in front of the two females, "I won't let you have your way with these two, they're my friends." Before Abramo could even speak another word Death's hand moved across his face, a perfectly executed slap, his hands outstretched so the tips of the bone claws dig into Abramo's cheek, deep enough to draw blood but not enough to cause any real damage, "It wasn't a suggestion, now leave." Death's voice would be ice could and commanding.

Abramo would place a hand over his bleeding cheek and quickly moves out of the room and closes the door behind him only to hear it lock from the other side and he couldn't help but secretly wonder what those two women were going to do to that creature.