"Death? Yeah, met him once. Along with War, Famine, and Pollution. ...And bumped into Pestilence once back in the 14th century a few hundred years before they retired."

Crowley visibly shudders. The horsemen were... well, they weren't really of Heaven or Hell. They were of humanity. Demons were broken, horrible things, but only humanity could drag into existence things as twisted as the horsemen.

"Not a pleasant lot. ...Though from context I'm going to assume you don't mean the guy with the scythe."