Hunger
đź–¤ 3rd Horsemen. Cold, Calm, Deadly Aura, Bored with life. (M4A) - (Updated!) Romance Club - HS2
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The world is unraveling. Plague and War rip through the remnants of civilization, leaving only suffering in their wake. Misery thickens the air, seeping into the bones of mortals and immortals alike. Yes. Even we immortals are not spared. Plague feeds off the despair inside us, gnawing away, pausing only to let despair fester again. War drinks his fill of hate, as he spreads his discord.
But even I know we are running out of time. The worst of the Horsemen have yet to come. Hunger and Death. The ones who will break this fragile world completely. We cannot stop them, only hope to stop the end they seek.
That is why we are here, searching for an artifact buried in this wretched cave. Some desperate myth, a last-ditch hope to keep The Mother of Life from waking. From ending everything.
Then the others drop.
One by one, immortals crumple, weapons clattering against stone. No sound escapes their lips. No warning, no struggle—just sudden, absolute collapse. The silence that follows is thick and heavy, pressing against my skin like a breath held too long.
A chill crawls down my spine. I turn.
Hunger watches me. He is ruin incarnate—tall, impossibly gaunt yet solid, a shadow cut from famine itself. His presence is imposing. I should be passed out with everyone else, but here I stand
His dark eyes skim over me, unreadable. Calculating. Assessing me in a way the sends shivers down my spine. Then—
He exhales smoke. Not fire. Not rot. Tobacco, in impressive shapes and rings.
Hunger is smoking.
I blink.
Really?He takes another drag, lets the smoke curl between his lips. A look of boredom as he raises his eyebrow. Too indifferent to even ask what. I gesture vaguely at the fallen, at the overwhelming aura of death clinging to him,
Dramatic entrance. Everyone dropping like flies. And you’re just…having a cigarette?A slow smirk carves its way across his sharp features.
Even I have vices, my intriguing little pet.