Title: "Here Comes a Horseman"

Author: Zanthia

Disclaimer: Absolutely none of the characters are mine. In fact, if you look closely, some of the wording near the end isn't mine either. Can you guess where it's from? I think the title of the story should help. In fact, the name of the episode is only a couple of lines down…..

And I looked, and behold a pale horse: and his name that sat on him was Death, and Hell followed with him. And power was given unto them over the fourth part of the earth, to kill with sword, and with hunger, and with death, and with the beasts of the earth.

----Revelation 6:8

Death.

One little word could mean so much. It could mean the beginning of a new life, or the passing into the next world. It could also mean sadness…loss…pain, and sorrow.

Death was also a person.

A person I've seen.

A person I know.

By day he wears a mask. One that hides what he truly is beneath. During the day he appears to everyone as a Professor, a colleague, or perhaps even a great wizard. It's a mask that he wears very well. Sometimes, if you take the time to look—though not a lot of people do—you will notice that there are many layers to the man behind the mask.

I've caught glimpses from time to time. In those little moments when one believes they are not being watched, and every safe guard that they work so hard to keep up slips for just a second.

It takes only a second.

But a second is all you need to see what is really beneath.

The first time I had seen it happen, it was like looking at a different man. I had been watching him as my potion slowly simmered and did not expect to see him in such a way. He was sitting casually behind his desk fidgeting with a knife, spinning it back and forth between his long fingers; the sharp edges catching the light and throwing it in every directing. But that's when I saw it happen. In just the blink of an eye I watched the blade fall and cut into his ivory skin.

I think now, that the shock of being hurt was what did it, but still, it couldn't change the fact that it happened.

But there, behind the desk sat not a man that I had known for the past seven years. There sat a man that looked tired and beaten and bruised. His eyes looked sunk in from the lack of sleep with large purple marks beneath. There were large bruises coloring his ivory skin, in the shocking colors of purple, yellow, and green. His nose had even looked worse for wear, with bright redness and cuts, and more crookedness to it than what I had remembered.

But then I blinked, and that man was gone. In his place though, sat a blemish free, ivory skinned man that was the one that I had known for seven years.

I had seen through his veil.

I had seen what lies beneath.

He had looked up at me, ours eyes locking over the distance of the classroom. I could feel my cheeks flush at the idea of being caught.

I didn't understand why he would be wearing a glamour. This was Professor Snape after all. I had to find out, some way, some how.

That's how I came to stalking the dungeons while on Head Girl duty. I wanted to get a chance to bump in to him; a chance to make his concentration falter just a bit, so I could see what lay beneath.

I had heard stories over the summer of things that Professor Snape had possibly done. Stories flew around school, and since they instilled fear in the worst teacher at Hogwarts even more, nothing was done to stop them.

I only wondered if the stories were true.

So I rounded the corner near the potions lab, and spotted a rather tall, dark figure moving at a slow pace down the hall.

I began to follow.

I could see that he had a slight limp to his right leg, his boot dragging softly across the stone floor.

I was only four feet behind him when he pounced.

As agile as a cat he spun around and grabbed me tightly by the throat, slamming me up against the wall.

"You shouldn't be here," He growled out. I could smell blood on him, along with liquor. This was clearly not a good sign.

His eyes were wild. I've never seen him in a state like this.

"Is it true," I gasp out, his fingers not letting up their hold on my neck. The stones on my back are cold, and feel even colder as he steps closer to me, his cloak encasing us both.

I couldn't help but think…'this man can kill me'. He could so easily snap my neck and be done with it.

"Don't forget Miss Granger… times were different… I was different… the—whole bloody world—was different," he hissed.

"Did you kill all those people?" His grip on my throat increased.

"Yes," he replied with a toothy smile that would have made a vampire proud. He leaned in close to my ear, his breath hot on my neck. "Is that what you wanted to hear? Killing was all I knew. Is that what you wanted to hear?" I could feel a shiver go down my spine as I gasped for breath.

"That's enough," I gasp.

"No, it's not enough," he pushed me harder against the wall. "I killed. But I didn't kill fifty. I didn't kill a thousand. I killed ten thousand! And I was good at it. And it wasn't for vengeance. It wasn't for greed. It was because — I liked it," he laughed. I tried to get away, but he held me tight against the wall. "The Muggles were nothing, their towns are nothing. Do you know who I was?" He leaned in close to my ear and whispered, "I was Death."

I kicked and struggled as the laugh surrounded us and traveled down the hall.

"Death—Death on a broom. When mothers warned their children the monster would get them, that monster was me. I was the nightmare that kept them awake at night. Is that what you wanted to hear? The answer is yes--oh yes." He growled out, my brain only working on panic, and the notion of getting as far away as possible from this man. This monster.

I had to get away, I had to run.

I had to live.

He gave me a final shove against the wall and released me. I slid to the floor, gasping for breath.

"Do not chase after Death, Miss Granger, or it will turn around and grab you." With those words, he disappeared down the hall.

A/N: Yeah, that's it. That's all that pops out of my head in twenty minutes. It does not include though a couple revisions. Lord only knows it could probably use more.

So basically, the idea of the challenge is to write as much as humanly possible in twenty minutes and still have it make some sort of sense. While writing this one, I decided to play up a second challenge from Scene Stealers, I believe it's called. The scene is at the end, and it's from one of my favorite TV shows. Some wording was changed seeing as how it just wouldn't work the original way, but enough of it is in the original form so that you can tell where it's from. That's all, thanks for reading.