It was a very nice stable. Well kept, and clearly very expensive. Top of the line tackle rested on the walls, all immaculately positioned and cared for. The floor was well swept. Everything was freshly painted. An expensive looking digital clock was inset into the wood above the swinging double doors at the far end.
Maurice took the scene in with some confusion. He looked behind himself, and his gaze was met with a large barn door on well-oiled hinges. He squinted at it grumpily. He had just walked through that door.
Or rather, he walked through the space that the door now occupies. Only it hadn't when he'd walked through it.
This troubled Maurice.
A more troubling thought wedged itself in Maurice. He looked up at the black bulk of his travelling companion.
"Please tell me the afterlife is not a stable." he begged.
Death chuckled quietly. "No, Maurice. Not this afterlife, leastaways." he shrugged and began slowly walking down the stable towards the double door.
Maurice breathed a sigh of relief. Maurice had been a mechanic, and never a lover of horses. He moved to keep up with Death.
"That is the spot where I leave you, I'm afraid." Death nodded slightly towards the doors. Maurice tried to check the clock above them, but it refused to be read. He frowned.
"On some farm?" Maurice raised an eyebrow.
"Probably not."
The two fell silent, and Maurice found himself looking into the pens as they passed by. The first held the most stunning example of a Horse he had ever seen. A capital H Horse. Even Maurice had to stop and admire how perfect a Horse it was.
But not for long. He shook his head, and hurried to catch up to Death who was moving with a bored sense of purpose towards the end of the hall.
As he passed by further pens Maurice quickly forgot the Horse from the first. The second contained a group of strange goats, and the one after that had a sleeping Pegasus. Maurice furrowed his brow, but did not stop. The Unicorn did give him pause, and he cleared his throat to attract the attention of Death.
"Hmm? Oh, him. Yes, very beautiful." Death turned to see what had caught his charges attention. "Cheats at poker." He nodded at the pen. The unicorn snorted angrily at Death, who shrugged, uncaring, in return.
"You played poker with a horse?"
"A Unicorn. And don't let him hear you call him that."
The lights of one of the final pens began to flicker. Maurice thought it was odd that the afterlife had a poor power network, but then remembered this wasn't the afterlife. It was something... else.
"She heard my voice and now she's excited." Death smiled, striding towards the flickering stable. He pulled a shiny apple out of his cloak as the lights extinguished completely.
Curious, Maurice tilted his head and followed. He moved to the far wall, trying to get a better view inside the dark pen. Death put his hand on the half-wall, and held up the apple as a treat. The light didn't simply end at the edge of the stable, it was consumed by it. Shadows formed a horrible veil there. Looking into it hurt his eyes, like they were being consumed by the darkness as they tried to pierce it.
"Oho, you're hungry today hmm? Are they not feeding you enough?" Death pulled his hand back out of the shadows, and it held a perfectly cored apple. He tossed it to the floor, and produced a second. "Don't worry, I'm here for you old friend."
There was a snort from the enclosure, accompanied by a flash of flame. Maurice stepped closer, to investigate. He regretted it.
When he approached, it was as though the veil lifted, and he could see into the darkness clearly. What was inside was, and was not, a horse. A dark steed composed of fire and ichor, a thousand legs tangled in an infinity below and a burning mane that screamed in his head. Its dripping eyes bored into his mind and flayed his soul before him, dragging his existence behind it at a thousand miles an hour as they stood motionless in the shining darkness. He crumbled to his knees and fell away from the shining, grasping coat that tugged at his gut.
Only when he had crawled, rolled, and struggled back out of the realm of darkness that the Thing in the pen made was he able to scream. He hurt, in the way that only a lifetime of pain can hurt. His blood was needles of acid. His brain was pressing against his skull ready to pop. His gut writhed with barbed serpents. But none of this did he notice. He was too busy trying to hold together the shredded remains of his soul. He stared at his shaking hands and watched his essence drip through his fingers, horrified.
Death smirked, and bent down next to the shaking Maurice. He placed a skeletal hand on the man's shaking shoulder, and the shaking stopped. Maurice breathed in sharply, and found himself sitting on the floor.
He cocked his head. He was looking up at Death, crouched before him. He looked down the stable hall.
The last thing he remembered was talking about a Unicorn. Had he fallen?
"You should be honoured." Death intoned warmly. "She likes you." He jerked his head over his shoulder to the black enclosure.
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