Horsemen
by nona

"What's up, Stan?" Ray called to him.

He bent to unlock the car door and pulling the door open slightly, he threw his stuff across the front seat. Drawing closer, Stan said nothing and puzzled at his odd behavior, Ray frowned.

Remembering the thermos of coffee, Ray ducked back into the car.

"I've got coffee," he offered.

Ray shared a cup of coffee with the man every morning, rain or shine and Stan usually seemed grateful to accept it. But this morning he was acting pretty strangely, not speaking as he normally did and was already at the other side of the open Riv's door when Ray finally straightened again. The sudden nearness of the bun almost startled him, but he was a pretty dauntless cop and could take mostly anything in stride. Wordlessly, Ray reiterated his offer for coffee by shaking the thermos beneath Stan's nose.

Nothing.

Ray took note of the man's stained and disheveled appearance. He wore an old black windbreaker jacket that was torn in several places along his arms, soiled blue jeans and a green sweater that read "Merry Christmas, Ho Ho Ho!" in bold red and white letters. The ancient Santa with only one remaining sapphire eye leered up at Ray between the opening of the jacket.

The red knit cap which Stan had yanked down on his head and over his brows hid most of his down turned face. His dirty blonde hair stuck out like the end part of a crushed out broom.

"C'mon now. I don't have time to play around. Either you want it or you don't."

Stan spoke so softly that Ray had to cock his head towards him to hear.

"What?" Ray asked and tossed the thermos back onto the seat.

He was going to be late playing Mr. Nice Guy with the walking dead.

"Have you seen God?" Stan asked again.

Ray indulged in a chuckle and carefully cast a slow glance about the quiet morning neighborhood. He could see other people emerging from their houses and heading for their own cars.

"Look, Stan. You ask me this every day and everyday I tell you the same thing… why don't…"

The morning breeze shifted then and Ray trailed off catching the absolutely hellish scent of feces and blood coming from the man.

"Have you?" Stan asked again.

Ray looked towards the house where his mother and sisters still slept and became suddenly very concerned with the threat Stan would pose to them. All before he seemed harmless enough, coherent even and had sometimes taken the time that Ray had before work to talk about current events as well as things that were happening around the neighborhood. So, Ray just assumed he was a relatively sane guy who was just down on his luck. He'd warned his family to be careful in case he was really crazy. But now, he wasn't certain if just leaving Stan alone would be such a good idea.

Ray closed the car door and stepped up to the man, and keeping his voice tough but friendly he said, "Look, I know you're going through some rough times, man. We all are. Why don't you see if you can get some help, O.K.?"

Ray dug about in his coat pocket and pulled out the little brown billfold in which he kept his business cards.

"Come by the station and see me today. Maybe we can work something out."

Stan reached out with a grubby hand and took the card. His fingers brushed against Ray's and the cop hissed in a breath of pain, and jerked his hand back to examine it. He was sure that the bum had cut him with some hidden razor. There was no injury to his hand. His skin was intact. But, Ray knew he wasn't insane. The heat of the man's skin was like a match flame held too long against his own hand.

Lifting his eyes from his hand, Ray saw Stan silently tuck the thin cardboard card into his empty Styrofoam cup. And when Ray looked into his face, he saw the man staring up at him. And, grinning. He was grinning slyly.

His inky black eyes held Ray still for just an instant only to snap him out of it when Stan blinked and then screamed at him, "Have you seen GOD!?!"

Ray had enough. A hand shot out to grab his wrist, clenching hard on him .

"No… I--…"

"You will!" Stan cried and pointed a thin finger into his face.

He stood holding onto him for only an instant longer and then released him. Stan left Ray standing there gaping after him with astonishment. Ray didn't pursue him, he just slid into the car and made a quick dispatch call to have a patrol car come pick the bum up. Breaking the radio call, Ray sat there in the comfort of his car for a while and rubbed at his wrist. Shaking the uneasy feeling away, he started the engine unwilling to let some filthy crazy bum crack him up.

As he passed the corner, Stan lifted a hand in a friendly wave.

"Crazy fuck," Ray muttered and drove on.

**

"I don't know what the hell is going on out there!"

Elaine Besbriss had started talking to him before she was even within a polite speaking distance of his desk.

Ray looked up from hen-pecking out a report on a fairly new electric typewriter, that he just couldn't get used to, and watched as the former Civilian Aide cum patrol officer tromped angrily towards him. Elaine took off her service cap and flopped down into the vacant chair across from the detective.

"What?" he demanded reaching for the bottle of correction fluid.

She looked at him with the expression of someone who had just smelled something bad.

"What?" Ray wanted to know.

"You didn't hear?"

Ray shook his head negatively and began screwing the top off of the squat bottle in his hands.

"Brant and Morris found four decapitated men in the part this morning. They were set up like a cross with their heads propped up, neck down, each facing all four directions and their bodies were facing their heads."

Elaine made gestures in the air trying to illustrate what she meant.

Ray pulled a face.

"And it wasn't like whoever did it was trying to hide it. Right out in the open,"

"Do we know who they were? The victims?"

"Yep," she nodded. "Identification, briefcases, wallets, everything still on the bodies. One guy even had an unchewed hunk of saandwich in his mouth."

To stop her further description, Ray held up a hand in disgust.

"Yeah, thanks," he said.

And Elaine, who reveled in gory details tried hard to supress a grin.

"Weird stuff like that's been happening all week, Ray," she said. "The kids in the hospital… the E-line train,"

Ray stared at her.

Coincidences, he wanted to say. Nothing more than chance happenings around a completely fucked up city. But he was distracted by a commotion inside the bullpen's doors. Ray stood up as did Elaine to get a better look.

"Holy…" Ray began in surprise.

Being hustled in by two uniformed cops was some guy dressed like… something crazy, looking like a park ranger gone nuts.

"It's some guy dressed like a Mountie," Elaine marveled with a laugh. "Stetson and all!"

Ray shook his head. He didn't believe his eyes. He'd seen members of the RCMP . In fact, he'd been on cases with them and had come to get to know some very fine officers. But he couldn't recall them looking like the man who stood dressed in red serge and black jodhpurs in the clutches of the two officers. At least they didn't look like that on a regular basis.

"We got a free holding place?" yelled out one of the cops.

They were looking for a desk to drop the man off under some sort of supervision so that they could go out again. It must have been frantic at the front desk for the pair of officers to do that, Ray thought.

He then cast a glance at his typewriter, to the mound of work that was waiting for him and back at the man dressed as the Mountie.

"Yo! Here!" he called out surprised that he'd volunteered.

Elaine turned and gave him a long look of amazement over her shoulder and then stepped aside to let the two cops drop the Mountie into the chair at Ray's desk.

"Thank you kindly, officers." The Mountie said to them as they left.

And then the man shifted and looked at Elaine and then at Ray. His dark blue eyes regarded them both slowly and probingly in turn, but he let his eyes linger particularly long on Ray.

"Do you have something for this?" he asked suddenly, indicating with a downward glance to his cheek where a slash of what looked like drying blood cut across his cheekbone and up towards his immaculately short black hair.

Looking into his magnetic eyes, Ray felt drawn to him and almost reached out a finger to wipe it away, but Elaine's voice stopped him.

"You got him under control?" she asked.

The Mountie immediately turned to look up at her, breaking the connection with Ray. And he smiled ever so slightly. The smile was almost charming.

"He has nothing to worry about," said the Mountie and after a brief, but pointed pause added, "from me."

Elaine gave Ray a last look, secured the cap on her head and left them alone. Ray spoke and then man turned his attention back to him. Ray could almost feel his gaze like a warm pressure being applied to his face and chest and he felt the urge to sit down.

Collapsing into the cushioned chair he said, "That's blood. And I'm not touching it without gloves."

The Mountie arched his dark brows and after visually searching the desk for said gloves, he turned his hopeful yes back to Ray. Ray noticed this and frowned.

"And I'm not getting gloves."

The man looked away and shifted on the chair again.

"Then, can you unlock these cuffs? They're most uncomfortable."

"Shut up," Ray answered letting his eyes drift towards the doors of the bullpen, waiting for the two arresting officers to return.

When they did pass through those doors, the chorus line of cops and assistants waiting for them lunged towards them, wanting to know what was going on.

"We found this guy," began the female cop to Ray. "Standing over these three… bodies."

She looked to her partner for his response.

He added," Except they weren't… whole."

Ray cast a disparaging glance at the Mountie, who sat there calmly listening to the cop's recount of the situation.

"I mean, I knew they were human because they were still screaming. But… but they weren't all there, most of their bodies had melted into some sort of bloody goop on the street. I can only guess that this nutcase threw acid on them or something."

"I did not," answered the Mountie.

The sounds of fast approaching sirens and then screeching tires and shattering glass broke the silence in the bullpen. Outside they could hear muffled shouting and then the sound of a high pitched scream.

"Better get out there," Ray suggested to no on in particular and a few of the officers ran out.

An uneasy quiet settled among the remaining cops and they exchanged worried glances. There was something terribly wrong happening and none of them were sure they were properly equipped to handle it.

The tremor that initially seemed like a shudder of distant thunder quickly deepened into a rumbling explosion that rocked the entire stationhouse. Ray held onto the wall behind his desk and rode out the brief shaking in the building. Dodging his falling foam basketball net, Ray sword aloud.

"What the hell!?"

He looked to the quiet Mountie for an answer, but he merely gazed pointed back at him.

There was a moment of utter silence before the lights blinked, flickered out all together and the sprinkler system spurted to life. The gushing water sent the officers scattering. Ray came around the side of his desk, reached out and grabbed the Mountie's arm and hauled him upright.

"C'mon!" he shouted over the screaming fire alarm.

"There's no place to go, Ray," said the Mountie allowing the detective to lead him out of the bullpen.

"Shut up!" Ray growled at him feeling a chill settle over his wet shoulders.

The Mountie's tunic must have been treated with moisture repellant because the thin droplets of water simply rolled from his hair over his shoulders and down the scarlet front to land in the growing lake on the floor. Police officers splashed all around them once they were out in the narrow corridor. The station shuddered once again, knocking he and the Mountie off balance, throwing Ray into the other man and then the both of them against the wall. Soggy hunks of the pressboards ceiling crashed down upon them and Ray threw up an arm to try to shield them both from the onslaught as they searched for a safer place. Pictures and other items that had decorated the walls crashed to the floor and then rocking walls dislodged a fire extinguisher that glanced Ray's shoulder. He hissed with pain and jerked the Mountie along.

The wooden hallway staircase creaked ominously and Ray looked up at it. It swayed, convulsed and collapsed away from the wall. It toppled without another warning.

Ray shoved the Mountie out of the way and dove for his own safety. The ruined wood clattered loudly against the opposite wall and broke into jagged pieces that splashed into the flood on the floor. Getting to his feet again, Ray hauled the still handcuffed man upright.

"C'mon… shit!'

Ray dug through his pockets for his own set of keys that could unlock the cuffs and looked up into the blue eyes wholly surprised that the man looked as calm as could be as if he was simply enjoying a warm summer's evening in the park and not standing in a crumbling building on the verge of disaster. Then it hit him and pulling him into the doorway of a utility closet, Ray grabbed him by the shoulders and banged him against the closed door.

"You know what's going on, don't you!?"

A queer smile lengthened the Mountie's wet lips and he nodded once.

"What's happening!?"

The man in red let his eyes slip sideways as if in contemplation. But before he could answer, and before Ray could react by punching him in the face, the door upon which they leaned gave way and spilled them and gallons of water into the jumbled closet. The detective struck his head on a fallen filing cabinet and immediately lost consciousness.

It was quiet when Ray came to. He slowly became aware that a hand was holding him upright against one of the still standing filing cabinets and that that hand was attached to the man in red. Ray sputtered and coughed a little and he pushed the man away. The Mountie stood there watching him silently and Ray clutched at the metal cabinet for support as he regained himself. Outside in the hall, the water had stopped falling and the misty darkness was blessedly quiet. Ray looked into the Mountie's face.

"Are you all right?" he asked, and Ray nodded.

Ray looked the man over and didn't question why he was no longer handcuffed. Wiping cold water from his eyes, Ray stared at the man who was standing uncomfortably close in front of him. The Mountie gave him another close lipped smile, one that was much warmer now, almost sensuous and carnal. He moved closer to Ray who pressed back against the filling cabinet, feeling the metal handle dig painfully into his spine.

"Wha--…"

"You are so beautiful," the Mountie said as he lifted a hand to lightly trace a fingertip along Ray's temple and then down to his bruised jaw. "You all are so beautiful. I find it disheartening to see how you quarrel and fight amongst yourselves."

Ray opened his mouth to question his strange statement, to defend his masculinity… something.

"Get off me," Ray muttered threateningly.

But the closer the Mountie drew, the less sure Ray was of the decision to shove the man away.

"S--stop," he managed to say right before he felt the brush of cool lips against the tip of his nose.

Ray sucked in a shuddering breath feeling his whole body stiffening all over. The Mountie grinned now, showing a sliver of teeth and stretching his arms out on both sides of Ray's shoulders, he pressed his hands against the filing cabinet behind him.

"I wanted you the moment I saw you," the Mountie admitted, brushing his cheek against Ray's, bringing another shudder from the man and a long helpless moan.

"Mmmm… it's so easy for you, isn't it? So easy for you to feel."

There was a note of satisfaction in the man's voice and then he paused briefly before he pressed the entire length of his body against Ray's body.

The shock of heat and pleasure jerked Ray bodily and he blindly reached out to claw at the damp woolen tunic. He had to hold onto something for he feared if he trusted his own knees to hold him, he could crumple into nothing. He closed his eyes and an apprehensive thought lit in the black recesses of his clouded judgement.

Maybe this was that the strange man dressed as a Mountie did to those men in the alleyway.

Maybe he just merely touched them and they melted

Maybe they melted in the same manner he was certain he was going to do any second.

In the deep silence Ray could hear his heart throbbing. He could hear the hiss of the fire as it seared away all blood sinew and skin. His own cry was loud in his ears and Ray arched against the Mountie's hot body. He kicked Ray's feet apart and slithered even closer, to possess Ray completely.

Ray sucked in a breath, still unable to breathe properly and forced himself to open his eyes. He looked down with amazement at the dark head bowed at his shoulder. But try as he would, he couldn't force any words passed his slowly moving lips. The man finally raised his head and he looked directly into Ray's face. His blue eyes were dilated to the point that only a thin rim of color remained to encircle the black. His pale lips parted slightly and the tip of a ruddy tongue flicked out to moisten his bottom lip. Then those lips twisted slightly into an almost mocking grin as he said,

"You probably couldn't stop yourself even if you wanted to right now."

Ray made a strangled noise deep in his throat, which quickly melted, into a soft moan of pleasure. He rubbed his aching and swollen cock against the Mountie's hip, groaning helplessly, desperately working towards a mindless culmination. The Mountie tipped his chin up and for the first time, he pressed a kiss to Ray's lips. A bolt of white-hot pleasure seared so suddenly through Ray's wiry frame that he bucked against the Mountie's solid body.

His orgasm slammed hard into him completely taking him by surprise. Still handing onto his sanity and marveling at the absurdity of his situation, Ray tried to choke back his cries. He bit down hard on his bottom lip, drawing blood in the process and sending a short spur of hot coppery tasting fluid skittering across his tongue. The Mountie thrust into Ray's moist heat and dipped his tongue into Ray's mouth to taste him.

Wave after wave of heat and ecstasy crashed over him, pulled him under to near drowning and Ray lost all control. The head of his second orgasm overlapped the first, tearing breath and coherency from him. He screamed out again, much to the Mountie's delight.

"Oh yes, Ray," he encouraged him softly. "Yes, that's it."

It was quiet again when ray finally came back to himself. He was still standing, which to him seemed like a small miracle. The Mountie stood in front of him, waiting with that queer smile on his lips.

"Hello, Ray," he said lifting his hand to touch Ray's face as the cop blinked open his eyes.

Ray flinched away from the Mountie's hand and with a small frown he noticed this and let his hand fall away.

"I won't hurt you, Ray. You should know that."

Ray remained quiet as he stood there leaning against the filing cabinet and trying to keep his knees from buckling.

Then the look on the Mountie's pale face changed. He almost looked sorry for what he'd done.

"Ray… I am."

His voice trailed and as if hearing something, he jerked his head towards the door and bit the top of his tongue. Ray turned his attention to the door as well. He could hear voices outside. The cops were probably returning to the building to check the damage and to search for any trapped survivors.

"You killed those guys in the alley, didn't you," Ray said, with his voice just above a whisper.

The Mountie looked back at Ray and angled his body in such a way as to block Ray's exit. He searched his face with those probing blue eyes for a moment before nodding.

"Yes, Ray."

A wash of fear gripped him at seeing the look of satisfaction lighting the Mountie's stoic expression.

"Are you gonna kill those cops out there?"

A slight hesitation from the Mountie mingled a blaze of anger with the fear inside Ray.

"Yes, Ray," he said slowly. "It's my duty."

"It's your duty to kill cops!?"

The Mountie shook his head and looked mildly amused.

"And you think all this is funny?" Ray screamed at him.

"I would be telling an untruth Ray, if I said that we don't find some satisfaction in our work."

" "We" ?" he asked tentatively. "There's more than you?"

"Yes, Ray. There are four of us."

Tangled thoughts fell all over themselves in Ray's trouble mind.

"Four," he said mostly to himself.

No! he wanted to shout. There was no way that it was the End of Days and the Four Horsemen were now roaming the Earth.

"Do you believe in God, Ray?"

The question caught him off guard.

"What??" he asked.

"Do you believe in God?"

"How can you ask me that? After all these years I…" Ray trailed.

He felt a flame of heat burn at the back of his throat. Everything he had ever believed in was coming into question, and there was nothing about the man standing in front of his to make him believe that he was not telling anything but the truth.

"Yes, " he answered finally.

The Mountie then grinned boyishly with delight and opened his mouth to speak but a noise outside the door distracted them both and they looked towards it again. Ray felt the pressure of uneasiness fill his gut and he was even more unnerved as the door knob began to slowly turn back and forth.

The Mountie's hand flashed out and he grabbed the knob. He held it still for a moment until he was sure that it wasn't turning anymore. He looked distinctly afraid and when he looked at Ray he asked,

"Do you trust me, Ray?"

To his surprise, Ray answered immediately.

"Yes."

Then please. I need you to stay here, in the closet."

"Why?"

"Ray, just trust me. Stay here if you want to live."

Ray wanted to live, yes, there was no question about that and the events of that morning brought his mortality into sharp focus and he knew that it was threatened. But as the Mountie turned to go, Ray grabbed his arm.

"I’m not gonna let you kill those people out there."

The amused look was back.

"You can't stop us, Ray. We have out duty."

"Yea? Well… I have duty also. It's my job to protect and serve and I will stop you."

One quick flick of his shoulder and he was free from Ray's hard grip.

"Please, Ray. Please just stay here," he pleaded.

The Mountie then opened the door to a vacant hallway and without so much as a glance over his shoulder at ray, he walked out and shut the door behind him. And Ray stood there in the dark of the closet waiting for fate, waiting for… something.

He listened, yet heard nothing like the screams of dying people as he had expected.

He heard nothing except the dreadful silence punctuated by the rapid fire of his heart beating. In the distance he heard something like the approach of a siren that grew into something that sounded like some jerk leaning on his car's horn. Ad the sound grew louder, Ray realized what it was.

"No, he moaned softly. "Oh God, no!"

The sound was too loud for him now, screaming like pain in his head. Ray clamped his hands over his ears to shut out the sounds. His knees gave way beneath him, bringing him hard to the floor. The harmony of the horns shuddered all through him, taking his soul with it. He screamed with the pain of it. As the sound passed, and released him, Ray collapsed against the filing cabinet, sobbing piteously.

Silence, except for the fading sound.

Ray finally pushed himself upright to his hands and knees and waited. When nothing else happened, he pulled himself to his feet and unsnapped his holstered gun. He wasn't going to let good cops be slaughtered, no matter who was doing the killing.

"I have a duty too," he muttered pulling out his gun and opening the door.

-end