A lone man walked slowly through the dense fog settled around Eliot Street. It was a rather warm night, but the man was dressed in a thick dark coat reaching his knees and a scarf tightly wound around his neck up to his bottom lip.
He walked with a slow gait, but did not seem to be loitering nor strolling for pleasure. There seemed to be a purpose on his mind. Not much could be seen through the thick fog as the street lights were dull orbs of hazy yellowness. The man looking straight ahead seemed to walk with a precise step despite the obscure atmosphere, as if he had every bit of the street memorized. Though if you asked a single resident of Eliot Street, if they had ever seen this man, they would surely shake their heads and reply they had never seen him before anywhere. Yet each of them did not know that somehow this man was linked to everyone of them. He was the fate of every mortal on earth.
Turning slightly to the left on the corner of Eliot he approached a shrewd tree, its branches twisting into the fog. The man placed the palms of his firmly on the rough bark of the tree and murmured some strange words under his breath. There was a sudden, silent and quick white flash evading from the tree and the man disappeared. Within five minutes of the flash, the fog quickly dispersed.
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“Salvete, friends,” he nodded solemnly to the three men sitting quietly on the moist dirt. The air was thick and hot with an occasional breeze wafting through. There was a smell of darkness in the atmosphere. The area they were sitting on was a barren land of rich dark dirt.
“Mortis! You are here at last. Why are you so late?” said one of the men, jumping up. He was tall and broad shouldered with a scar running across his forehead. His long hair, reaching his shoulders, was a fiery red and only enhanced the ruggedness of his features. Restlessness within him showed on his face.
“I am never late. Never early either. I am always on time.” replied Mortis, smiling slowly.
“Salve Mortis,” said a second mean leaning against a tree. He had large black sores on his hand and arms. His face was long and angular and his eyelids were puffy and made him give the appearance of a very sleepy man. He looked towards the man standing who had questioned Mortis, “Bellum you were unwise to say that. You should know only to well that death always comes when you least expect it.”
“No not always, Pestis.” Spoke the third man who had been silent until now, to the second man with the boils on his face, “What if a man was committing suicide? He would surely expect death.”
“Dear, Esurio, if it weren’t time for death, he would not die,” replied Mortis with a knowing smile. He turned to Pestis, “And Pestis you are right in saying Bellum is unwise. War is never wise. Always impatient and irrational.”
Bellum vaulted forward at Mortis, clenching his fists in anger. “You had better watch your tongue. It is wrong of you to call me impatient and irrational. We are the reason to most of your doings. If it weren’t for us you wouldn’t function as much!”
“Not to mention short tempered,” said Mortis smiling smugly at his friends. “And don’t think I wouldn’t function without you people. You don’t need huge problems for me to occur. And besides you make a mortal only too glad when I come into the picture. I deliver the person from their undesirable state. Do I not? I pride myself in being desired. You only cause a mortal to desire me when life has become hopeless. ”
“Well we are getting off topic. We need to finalize our plans tonight! Now!” Said Pestis, getting irritated.
“Patience, patience,” Said Eusrio. “We must take everything in detail and under careful consideration.”
“I say we send the details to hell and get on with the real stuff,” scowled Bellum.
All three of them turned to Mortis, who seemed to be the leader. Morits looked at each man carefully, contemplating.
“First off, Bellum, tell me what you can do?” Mortis asked, rubbing his chin, lost in thought.
“You all know my quality. War! As quick as a wink I can get these mortals to turn against each other, resulting in a huge war with bombs exploding and the anguished cries of millions of people everywhere. These mortals seem to be waiting for a chance to pounce on each other.” He shook his head, smirking.
“Hmm. What about you Esurio?”
“I’ll make them hungry. To crave, to desire like never before. Not only a need for food but a compelling hunger for wealth, money and power. It should help Bellum enormously with his cause.”
Mortis nodded pleased,
“And you Pestis?”
“I can only help you further. Disease. Like Bellum said, I can make these weaklings cry in torment in a matter of minutes.”
“You all have good plans.” Nodded Mortis, his eyes serious and the lines on his forehead etched in thought.
“What about you, Mortis?” asked Bellum.
“I shall be the peace bringer and the end to all of you. I shall be the solution.” Mortis smiled a soft meaningful smile. “Friends, we have until dawn. We must act now.”
A plan was conceived for the following morning and each man slowly got up and left for his way, walking slowly to the horizon.
GLOSSARY:
Latin English
Mortis Death
Bellum War
Pestis Disease
Esurio Hunger
Salvette/Salve Hello/Greetings
Latin is "Salve" if speaking to one person, "Salvete" if more than one.
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