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Inspirational Friday - 31/10/2014

Inspirational Friday

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#1
Tenebris

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Greetings fellow heretics to this week's Inspirational Friday. This week we will have a special iteration of Inspirational Friday since we will try to capture our otherwise silent brethren in the Daemons and Renegade forums and force them to compete, hehe. 

 

First thing first, the victor for this week is:

 

Tdf4638 with this post on the Kai Gun. While not especially focused on a single minor daemonic entity I loved to see a modern interpretation of the whole Kai Gun thing. The cruel twist of fate in his post was amusing and I loved to see this eternal change, this cycle which usually comes to play when we speak of daemonic, sentient weapon. All in all a sweet, brief story which was great to read. A great entry for a newcomer to Inspirational Fridays. Well done. 

 

So minion of Chaos, step forth and claim your reward.

 

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A honorable mention goes to the amazing YFNPsycho and Kierdale. Both posts were great stories and I would really love to read more about the Marrowblades and the Pychopomps.

 

 

For this week Inspirational Friday we will have the following theme:

 

Inspirational Friday - 31/10/2014 - SPOOKY CHAOS

 

In line with the Halloween theme I would present the frater with a spooky theme for this week. I would like to see you write a story, a scary story about Chaos. It can be insane, it can be bloody but it must be scary too. We are the faction of the madmen and the insane, so we have many, many things which can be considered spooky, scary and insane by "normal" standards. 

 

In this iteration of Inspirational Friday I would ask of you to write a story about a character, about a battle or something similar which has a scary element, scarier even then the norm for our faction. I agree, it is a daunting prospect but I trust in the frater to deliver. The previous Inspirational Fridays have shown me that we have quite some talents here on the Chaos board, all willing to express themselves, so here is a way to do it. Write a scary story, simple as that. In this simplicity lies the challenge though... This week is a free for all so let the best win! 

 

Let us be scared together!

 

 

Tenebris


There is only the Truth. I do not know what it is, but I do believe in it!

Attributed to Dark Apostle Toren Mar, Chapter of the Broken Seal, 71st Host, Word Bearers Legion.

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#2
Slave to Darkness

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OOOOO good one... So very tempting. 

 

Also congrats Tdf4638 


Unbearable, isn't it? The suffering of strangers, the agony of friends. There is a secret song at the centre of the world, and its sound is like razors through flesh.

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Blog - Gates of Helvete

"If you mean, "Are we all going to get killed?" Yes. Clearly, Guilliman is about to make yet another gargantuan effort to move his drinks cabinet six inches closer to the Cicatrix." Captain Blackadder


 


#3
The Pariah

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Congrats to Tdf, hopefully I should have time for this one wacko.png


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Click here to see my WIP log.

 

New Blog coming soon.

 

 

Formerly Dizzyeye


#4
Kierdale

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Congratulations, Tdf.
Next up is horror?
Hmm...

#5
Son of Carnelian

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The screaming had not abated for minutes now. Braydon did not know what the Interrogator-Chaplain had done to his Fallen brothers, but he had no intention of finding out for himself. His muscles pumped with his superhuman strength propelling him down the darkened hallways of the governor's palace. The Fallen had come in the hopes of bending another weak-willed human lord to their will, but the Dark Angels had lain in wait for them. By the time the Fallen arrived, the palace had become a sanctum of nightmares. Bodies of those who would have collaborated with them hung from the walls, suspended by grotesque torture implements that kept the poor wretches just alive enough for the horrible pain they endured. 

 

The corridors of the palace seemed somehow and altogether alien, despite the Imperial motifs that decorated them. Hallways doubled back on themselves, floors gave way to secret trap doors that opened just after Braydon leapt over them. Had the Dark Angels rigged the entire place? Or had the governor installed them in his paranoia? Braydon had no idea. He could only feel the aching in his legs, coupled with a mounting sense of frustration. Like nearly all Astartes, his mind possessed almost perfect recall. Yet he found himself lost again and again. 

 

"Damn." Braydon hissed as he came upon the same passage for the third time in minutes. Or had the counter slipped to hours? His helmet fuzzed and hissed with disruption. Another of his erstwhile brothers' favorite tactics. His fingers twitched in nervous irritation and he felt the front of his head pulse with the pain of a mounting headache. 

 

Suddenly, the walls twisted around him. Previously concealed gears shifted the entire makeup of the surroundings. Double-headed eagles and cog symbols broke apart and shifted with the mechanisms of the structure. The screech of metal on metal drowned out the screaming that had formerly filled the air, but the Fallen Dark Angel found that he preferred the screaming. To Braydon, the entire scene seemed less like machinery in motion and more like the movements of a legion of writhing insects.  

 

"You will never escape,' a voice boomed through the shifting darkness. 'We will keep you here, until your mind submits."

 

"And then what?' spat Braydon as he drew his bolt pistol. He began frantically pointing it about, as if  it might dispel the gloom like a torch. 'You'll kill me?"

 

"No,' the voice replied cooly. It seemed closer now. Impossibly closer. Coming from inside Braydon's helmet. Echoing inside Braydon's mind. 'We will redeem you."

 

+++

 

The Fallen Dark Angel known as Braydon opened his eyes. Instead of darkness, he saw only blinding light. It filled his vision and disoriented even his senses. He lay naked on a cold table, spotless save for a few tiny blemishes that looked like dried blood. Braydon could smell the disinfectants in the air, but underneath lay the unmistakable aroma of fear from the table's former subjects and the stench of their dried vital fluids. His own sweat now intermingled with the other smells and he realized that he could not move any of his limbs.

 

"Don't struggle, traitor,' the voice said. It sounded more distant this time, but not because of a nearness of physical proximity. Braydon could see the Interrogator-Chaplain looming over him, his skull mask somehow twisted into a macabre smile that made Braydon realize just how terrible the rest of his life would prove. The Fallen started panting, bits of spittle ejecting from his mouth as he saw the Interrogator draw his first instrument. 

 

"Welcome, traitor. Welcome... to The Rock."

 

The Interrogator-Chaplain began his work, and he continued it long after Braydon stopped screaming.

 

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[Interrogator Chaplain Innocent by tacticagnel]


Edited by Marshal Sampson of Terra, 01 November 2014 - 03:44 AM.


#6
Slave to Darkness

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Think I will revisit Helvette for this one, got me a few ideas. 


Unbearable, isn't it? The suffering of strangers, the agony of friends. There is a secret song at the centre of the world, and its sound is like razors through flesh.

gallery_29004_9303_22505.png

Blog - Gates of Helvete

"If you mean, "Are we all going to get killed?" Yes. Clearly, Guilliman is about to make yet another gargantuan effort to move his drinks cabinet six inches closer to the Cicatrix." Captain Blackadder


 


#7
Hidicul

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May have to delve into my II legion's former allies for this. Hopefully I can find a little time between work, family and the Call to do some writing.


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#8
TDF

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Oh wow, thanks for the win and for all the congratulations. It's actually a double win because SanguiniusReborn and I managed to convince Dark_Apostle_XVII to build a Relictor with a Kai Gun!

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#9
Soldier of Dorn

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++ACCESS DATAFILE <LEGIO_8_52_4189n7/cross-ref 7546a9>

+++FILE BEGIN <ZHEVAT CALYXON AND THE FLAMES OF NIGHT>

 

‘…even amongst such fearsome Astartes as the 52nd company of the Night Lords, there was a single formation feared above all others… the Flames of Night.

 

‘Founded during the Great Crusade by Lord Captain Valghurst Nyxanos, these were completely insane Astartes, beyond all help, drawn from the ranks of the Support Squads, and equipped with flamers. Clad in heat-resistant armour, they would be deployed in dense terrain, such as cities, and unleash the fire of death. Their bodies would be wreathed in flame, as they stalked forth, strangling any surviving enemies. And Zhevat Calyxon was their leader.

 

‘The sergeant was obsessed with the dance of the flames. There was no doubt in his mind that fire was the embodiment of perfection, that holy thing that purifies all. Suffice to say, he was a sadist, and a pyromaniac. A delightful combination, no?

‘The squads were highly effective during the Siege of Terra, simply butchering loyal Astartes as they fought in the cramped confines of the Imperial Palace interior. The Flames of Night alone accounted for more than 60% of enemy causalities caused by the Terrorborn.

 

‘After the Warmaster fell, the Terrorborn fled to the Eye of Terror, taking the Flames of Night with them. Gradually, the Flames became more secretive and insular, becoming a cult of sorts. Some of the Night Lords outside the sub rosa formation whispered that Calyxon had turned the Flames to the worship of a minor Chaos power, one that knew the lure of fire. Still others disagreed, saying that the Flames had instead turned to one of the Four, albeit in a previously unknown aspect.

 

‘Whatever the truth, the Flames were ostracized and feared by those that they once called “brothers”. But they cared not, for their obsession with fire had wholly consumed them.

 

‘I leave you with a vid-clip, reportedly showing a squad of the Flames of Night, and possibly, Zhevat Calyxon himself.’

 

+++FILE BEGIN<LEGIO_8_52_4189n7.6489650g>

 

Fire and smoke fills the screen as an Imperial Guardsman wearing the livery of Cadia, screams into the recording device.

“They’re coming! God-Emperor of Terra, they are coming! We cannot stop them, we cannot delay them!

They are coming for you!”

The Guardsman screams as flames envelop him, ending his life. A hand grabs the body of the dead man, and simply tosses him aside, as an Administratum clerk would toss away an outdated report.

Glowing eyes examine the device as the screams of the burning fill the recorder’s microphones. Then, it laughs.

It is no sane laugh, that is for certain, but then the Night Lord speaks. It is a baritone voice, filled with fanaticism and menace.

“He was right, you know. We are coming. The Flames consume all, eventually. None escape us. We are coming for you. The Flames of Midnight are coming for you. There is no escape!”

The laughter begins again as the Night Lord raises his flamer and the picture burns and dissolves into static.

 

++FILE END<LEGIO_8_52_4189n7>


Edited by YFNPsycho, 01 November 2014 - 06:43 PM.

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For the light of Sol, and the earth of Terra, we stand. For the oaths we made, we stand. For the blood in our veins, we stand.
For the stones laid by our ancestors, we stand. For the days that have passed and the days that shall come, we stand.
For the living and the honour of the dead, we stand.


#10
Slave to Darkness

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She looked out of the window of her apartment at the distant treeline of Sharwood forest, her favorite place to play as a child, she smiled as she lost herself in her memories, spring mornings spent collecting flowers down by the stream, chasing colourful flutterbys as the evenings sunlight shone down on her, catching in her auburn hair and reflecting in her Green eyes making them sparkle like exotic Jade gems from ancient Terra. 
Then the forest changed, trees warping into dark twisted claws reaching down at her, the colourful flutterbys became fat giant fly's, she ran through the stream to get away, instead of the clear sparkling water she was used to she now waded through foul smelling liquid, a thick syrupy ooze that seemed to be a mixture of puss and blood...
 
She came to her senses, she was back in her apartment, the windows were broken, outside storm clouds the colour of clotted blood and the dirty green of diseased flesh gathered in the night sky as lightning forked up towards them from the distant horizon.  Walking across the room she took in her surroundings, dirty wallpaper peeled off the walls, the lumen bulb flickered in the next room, the strobe-like effect causing twisted shadows to dance across the walls, she walked into the bedroom and caught her reflection in the mirror. 
Her auburn hair was now a dirty grey that was falling out in clumps, her beautiful Green eyes were now cataract orbs the colour of sour milk, her lips were dry and cracked and her teeth were broken and bloody and her skin was pale and infected sores leaked ooze as maggots crawled beneath her skin. 
 
***
 
Screaming, Flint sat upright, terror in her eyes as she looked around the dark room, her companions looked up at her startled. 'Are you ok Flint?' Forte asked her, 'Y-yes I'm ok' she stammered as she tried to calm her breathing, looking down at herself she was relieved to see her athletic body, not the rotting mess she had become in her dream. She kicked the tatty blanket off her legs swearing as she got her foot stuck in a hole, she stood up and got dressed, pulling on a tight pair of pants and a body hugging padded jacket she 'borrowed' off of a dead female Arbite, she turned round and caught Slave staring at her.
'Do you mind?' She snapped at him, he sat up straight and smiled at her 'Not at all, do carry on, don't let me stop you'.
 'Stop that right now' said Forte as he threw one of his boots at him. 'Aww you ruin all my fun man' replied Slave pouting.  
 
Flint sat down, looking up at her companions as she ted up her boot laces, there was three of them, drifters she had met in the ruins since Chaos had come to Helvette.  The first one she met was Forte, the level headed one, if it wasnt for his quick thinking they would all have been dead many times over by now. soon after that they had met Semper, a survivor from the PDF, he found them fightng off a group of mutants and his Lasrifle had saved them from becoming food that day. The most recent was only known as 'Slave', rude and offensive criminal scum they had found in a cell of the Arbites precinct, he begged to be let out, claimed to have seen unimaginable things  and would rather die being able to defend himself rather than sitting there waiting for 'them' to come for him, also he said he knew the city well and knew places to hide, so far he had been true to his word.
 
  There had been others as well, but they wern't so lucky, the first one to go was Jeske, taken down and torn apart by faceless Children who came up through the floor,  then there was Chaeron, no one knew how he died, when Semper went to wake him his skin was nailed to the ceiling and his entrails were arranged into the shape of an Eight pointed star on the floor, his body was never found, then there was Miko, pulled into the shadows by unseen hands, Slave had grabbed hold of her, tried pulling her back, but he was showered in blood as he fell back into Forte and Semper holding Mikos' arms, his mind must have snapped a little after this and what he saw whilst locked up, he just sat there laughing hysterically staring at the shadows until Semper had to put him to sleep with the butt of his rifle. 
 
Slave stood up and walked over to her, 'Here this is for you Flint, I found it last night when I was looking for food and saved it for you' he handed her a few packets of dried food and a bottle of water, she looked up at him as she took them, 'Thank you, your not too bad for a criminal' she replied. He laughed as he sat down next to Semper and snatched his lho stick out of his mouth, 'Cheer up Bossman, what are we doing today Bossman Sir Captian Sir Boss' he said as he poked Semper repeatedly in the ribs.  Snarling, Semper swatted his hand away, 'listen up' he said, 'I have a plan'. 'Is it a plan so cunning it can slip through your teeth?' Slave asked, Semper turned and looked at him, 'Slave, I hate you' he said... 
 
***
 
Sempers plan was simple, get back to the PDF barracks, there were stores of field ration packs and water, as well as weapons. The plan went to hell soon after they left their shelter, out in the runs they came across 'things' that were moving through the shadows, twisted things, hunched over sniffing the ground, searching for something. 
They tried sneaking past but one of the creatures caught their scent, it looked up at them and let out a screech as it pointed, then it gave chase, followed by more of its kind.
They took shelter inside a ruined temple, Forte and Slave were barricading the door as the creatures threw themselves against it. 'Oh crap' Semper mumbled, 'Guys I think we shouldn't be here' he said. Flint turned to see what Semper was looking at, she gasped, eyes widening in shock. 'Now what's the matter?' Slave asked , 'Oh fug me' he whispered to himself.
 
 The Temple had been defiled and the Priesthood slaughtered, some had been hung up by chains and had their lower bodies torn away, some had black iron spikes forced through the backs of their head, the blood slicked points sticking out of their mouths, another had been bound to a statue of the Emperor with razor wire, metal spikes had been hammered into his eyes and maggots burst out between his lips that had been sewn shut with rusty wire, others had been flayed, their skin hanging from the domed ceiling like torn banners. 
 
'We're leaving right now' said Forte, 'I'm not staying here to end up like this'. 'There's a way out through the catacombs' Slave said, 'There is tunnels that lead to the sewers, well, there more like cracks in the rock, but we can get out that way, come on!'. 
 
***
Now she was alone, one second they were walking through the catacombs and next minute the shadows come alive, moaning and clawing at them, Semper was dragged off back the way they had come into the darkness, behind Forte the shadows solidified forming a  vaguely human shape, she shouted a warning as Slave grabbed her and pulled her down a side passage, pushing her in front of him and telling her to run and not look back. She carried on running as Slaves screams echoed around her, then everything went silent.  Sobbing she wandered alone, her flashlight getting dimmer, she found the cracks in the rock Slave mentioned, she climbed up into the hole and and started to crawl. 
 
After a few minutes she stopped, she was sure she could hear something, it sounded like a sorrowful sigh carried on the breeze, and the faint sound of someone praying, but speaking in reverse, and someone whispered her name.  Panicking, she started to crawl faster, the tunnel got narrower so she had to lay flat on her stomach and pull herself along, the noises sounded like they were getting closer. She let out a sob of despair as she became stuck, frantically kicking her legs to get free, suddenly the noise stopped and her flashlight died. She held her breath, too scared to make a noise as tears ran down her cheeks, the tunnel seemed to get tighter around her as her heart beat so hard her chest hurt. Something felt like it was crawling over her, impossible she knew as the tunnel was barely wide enough to fit her, but she could feel a tingling moving up her body. Unintentionally she let out a sob of fear then he held her breath again, shaking in the darkness as her chest got tighter as the fear set in, then he felt a soft breath on her cheek as something whispered 'Flint' right next to her ear. 
 
Flint screamed,  louder than any living person should ever have to scream, the Terror welled up inside of her and she started kicking and crying hysterically, suddenly she was free and she dragged herself along, not caring that all her nails had broken and her fingers were torn and slicked with blood. She crawled faster as she felt something moving in the darkness behind her. All of a sudden she was clawing at empty air, and she rolled out of the tunnel falling face first onto the floor, as she rolled over she saw the thing that was coming after her. 
 
It pulled itself from the tunnel slowly, long arms reaching down to the floor as it turned towards her, it was blind, two bloody holes where its eyes should be, yet she felt it look straight into her soul, it made an eerie wailing sound as it opened its mouth and a white light shone out, not the white light associated with purity, but a filthy white that reminded her of rot and corruption, as the light shone down on her she could hear the whispering in her head again getting louder as the abomination got closer, it reached out and stroked her cheek with long slender fingers, then she could feel the wetness on her legs as her bladder emptied uncontrollably, then it lunged towards her, and everything went black. 

Edited by SlaveToDarkness, 02 November 2014 - 09:50 PM.

Unbearable, isn't it? The suffering of strangers, the agony of friends. There is a secret song at the centre of the world, and its sound is like razors through flesh.

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Blog - Gates of Helvete

"If you mean, "Are we all going to get killed?" Yes. Clearly, Guilliman is about to make yet another gargantuan effort to move his drinks cabinet six inches closer to the Cicatrix." Captain Blackadder


 


#11
Kol Saresk

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Slave, I am very disappointed. I was nowhere in this story. :P

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#12
Tenebris

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Epic, Slave well done. Though I share the sentiment with Kol, I want to be in the story too tongue.png


There is only the Truth. I do not know what it is, but I do believe in it!

Attributed to Dark Apostle Toren Mar, Chapter of the Broken Seal, 71st Host, Word Bearers Legion.

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#13
Slave to Darkness

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Haha, don't worry, the planet of Helvette will be back, I am actually making sketches of how I see it in my head, then will try and make a games table for it, may as well make some of the weird Daemonic entities that inhabit it as well. So I will be sure to stick you two into the next bit of fluff I write. 


Unbearable, isn't it? The suffering of strangers, the agony of friends. There is a secret song at the centre of the world, and its sound is like razors through flesh.

gallery_29004_9303_22505.png

Blog - Gates of Helvete

"If you mean, "Are we all going to get killed?" Yes. Clearly, Guilliman is about to make yet another gargantuan effort to move his drinks cabinet six inches closer to the Cicatrix." Captain Blackadder


 


#14
Flint13

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HA! Survived the longest!

 

But Slave, I am disappointed. I tinkled myself. 

 

But awesome still happy.png


Edited by Flint13, 02 November 2014 - 09:37 PM.

"You roared your defiance, now scream your regret." ~Jhadek Redcrow
"NOTICE ME Khârn-SENPAI!"


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#15
Slave to Darkness

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I had wore than tinkling yourself in store for you, but as usual i have to edit bits out as its a family friendly forum, how far is too far and all that


Unbearable, isn't it? The suffering of strangers, the agony of friends. There is a secret song at the centre of the world, and its sound is like razors through flesh.

gallery_29004_9303_22505.png

Blog - Gates of Helvete

"If you mean, "Are we all going to get killed?" Yes. Clearly, Guilliman is about to make yet another gargantuan effort to move his drinks cabinet six inches closer to the Cicatrix." Captain Blackadder


 


#16
Hidicul

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           Anton stared in horror at his former battle brothers. Somehow The Brotherhood of Bone had anticipated his legion's worship of The Dark Prince and had prepared for it. Now the expected slaughter to show their conviction to their new god had now become infinitely harder.

 

          Over the vox came the Captain’s voice, "They are no longer our brothers, the coven have twisted them mind and body. Treat them as any other enemy." Anton knew the Captain spoke the truth, but he could recognize some of his former brothers in these twisted bodies.

 

           "How is this possible? Nova Squad has only been out of contact a few hours." Anton thought to himself. He had fought alongside the Coven's warriors before, and though they were disturbing to say the least, they were nothing compared to seeing the horrors his brothers had become. Apparently the Brotherhood hadn't taught the Angels of Desolation all they knew of flesh crafting.

 

           "Anton! Snap out of it, our bolters aren't having any effect on these monsters. Get over here with your plasma guns!" Someone was yelling at him but he didn't want to face things, couldn't face them. Anton ran and his squad wasn't far behind him. Over his vox he could hear his brothers fighting, dying and cursing his name. Still Anton and his squad ran.

 

           Unfortunately for Anton's squad, The Brotherhood was very well prepared for this fight. As Anton turned the corner towards the exit the doorway twisted. One of the Webway portals he had become accustomed to opened, and out came a giant figure with way to many arms. Attached to each arm or held in hands were weapons, each one more bizarre and deadly then the last.

 

            Behind the creature came one of the Brotherhood and at its simple gesture the creature sprinted into the squad, its weapons striking at the most vulnerable parts of their armor. The skirmish was over in seconds and Anton's whole squad was lying on the ground incapacitated, but alive. The Haemonculus stood over Anton, and with a smile said, "Yes, you will make great servants for me. I've recently had a brilliant idea and I believe I now have enough material for it."

 

             As the creature started hoisting the bodies of Anton's brothers up, Anton realized he was about to experience a horror that no human mind could witness without breaking.


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#17
Forté

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Excellent stuff everyone. Keep them coming.





"They always scream."

"It used to add to the excitement but it's now such a familiar sound that it barely even raises a single hair of excitement on my arms. Maybe if I still had hair it may happen, but I seriously doubt it."

The fleshy creation shambling along next to Faustus seemed to tilt an appendage, which may have once been a human head, in agreement.

"It's always more exquisite when they think they have a chance and decide to try to fight. More so when they try to be clever with their attempt at survival. Almost like they believe we don't know where they are."

The thing seemed to chuckle at this, as if recalling a past victim.

It had only been twenty-four hours since the Divine Flayers had made their presence known. Letting the Night Lords lose on the populace first was a stroke of genius. The way they built the tension and truly filled the mortals with true terror, without even needing to assault more than one remote coms station was a joy to see in action. Recording the sounds of those monitoring for possible attacks during their demise. Utter brilliance. But the sheer horror that playing those recordings back through every channel of communication, well. That was just the icing on the cake.

++++++

The transmissions stopped hours ago but Vic couldn't shift the sounds and every time he closed his eyes he was greeted with the sight of a midnight blue gauntlet crushing into David's face and through his eyes. All filmed by his killer. David had relieved Vic from his viewing station. But that was nothing compared to the creature that had been stalking them. The quick sight was more than enough but the smell was sickly sweet. Vic had witnessed a female colleague being torn apart by the thing. Most disturbingly though, she was smiling the whole time.

Sounds of claws on metal and the scent of perfume brought him back to the now. The darkness had helped him, or so he thought. Slowly he moved, hugging to the wall. His hand touched something warm, wet, and sticky. The familiar iron smell to it. He didn't want to see whatever or whoever it once belonged to. He had already seen more than most minds could handle, including the contents of his own stomach.

A tentacle snared Vic by the throat and pulled him face to featureless face with his stalker. A second wet tentacle stroking the side of his face. Almost as if to comfort him rather than tasting it's new prey. Sharp claws slowly pierced his ribcage. His body tried to vomit and scream but the writhing grip round his neck prevented both. A new face came from behind the beast. Ugly and with what looked like an oversized hypodermic needle for a lower jaw. It kept coming towards his face. The claws inching deeper. This new face seemed to be smiling at him as the tip of the needle scratched his iris.

"Now, now my child. Not this one. He is mine."
The voice came from behind him. Human, angelic, and disturbing all at the same time. Like a chorus of voices speaking as one.

The beast seemed to slump as like disappointed child as it slowly released Vic from it's clutches and slowly lowered him to his knees.

The voices came again. "Well Victor. Shall we have some fun. You may even find this quite pleasurable."


Edited by forte, 03 November 2014 - 10:35 AM.

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#18
Slave to Darkness

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OOOOO very good Mr Forte, nice to see your spawn show up. :tu:


Unbearable, isn't it? The suffering of strangers, the agony of friends. There is a secret song at the centre of the world, and its sound is like razors through flesh.

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#19
Forté

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OOOOO very good Mr Forte, nice to see your spawn show up. :tu:

Don't forget my sorcerer is Faustus ;)

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#20
Slave to Darkness

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Oh yeah, forgot about him 


Unbearable, isn't it? The suffering of strangers, the agony of friends. There is a secret song at the centre of the world, and its sound is like razors through flesh.

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Blog - Gates of Helvete

"If you mean, "Are we all going to get killed?" Yes. Clearly, Guilliman is about to make yet another gargantuan effort to move his drinks cabinet six inches closer to the Cicatrix." Captain Blackadder


 


#21
Flint13

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Those wacky Slaaneshi! Always getting their chocolate in unguarded human peanut butter. :P
"You roared your defiance, now scream your regret." ~Jhadek Redcrow
"NOTICE ME Khârn-SENPAI!"


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#22
Slave to Darkness

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Sooo many comments, so little time. ;)


Unbearable, isn't it? The suffering of strangers, the agony of friends. There is a secret song at the centre of the world, and its sound is like razors through flesh.

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Blog - Gates of Helvete

"If you mean, "Are we all going to get killed?" Yes. Clearly, Guilliman is about to make yet another gargantuan effort to move his drinks cabinet six inches closer to the Cicatrix." Captain Blackadder


 


#23
TDF

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The boy stopped to drink a handful of filthy water leaking from a broken pipe and then was on the move again. He darted around a corner, narrowly avoiding a naked, eyeless man blindly stumbling about.

A faint mechanical roar caused the boy to pick up his pace, the bloody rag tied around his left hand serving as a reminder of what would happen if he was caught for a second time.

Unlike the man, the boy was moving with purpose. He had been told that if he could cross the canal he would be able to make his way to the PDF compound and safety. That had been several days earlier, but the boy had nowhere else he could go. The only problem was that the boy could not swim and every bridge he had come across had been destroyed.

“Behind you!” screamed a mechanical voice from wall-mounted vox-horn, but the boy ignored it. The monsters had been using the vox to terrify people and had almost overwhelmingly succeeded. The boy was too clever for that though. His mother always said he was a clever boy. Had said...

Ahead of him the boy saw a sight that gave him hope. The canal lay ahead of him, lined on both sides by rows of manufactories. Neglect and war damage had caused them to subside, leaning inwards towards each other. If the boy could reach the roof the gap might be narrow enough to leap across.

Aware that the roaring was getting closer, the boy ducked into the nearest building. He walked across the room without looking at the corpses hanging upside down from the ceiling and entered the stairwell. He climbed as high as he could until the stairs became blocked by fallen masonry. At that point he left the stairwell and entered a room full of dead soldiers. In the corner lay a damaged vox unit hissing static.

The ceiling of this room had a hole in it through which the boy could see the sky. He began moving a desk across the room so he could climb out onto the roof. At one point he had to move a dead soldier out of the way. He bent down to grab the corpse’s shoulders and suddenly the room was filled with screaming.

The boy jumped back from the soldier in shock before he realised that this was another one of the monster’s tricks. The screams were coming from the vox. Seconds later the boy realised they were his own screams. The boy went mad. Yelling and sobbing, he grabbed a chunk of masonry and slammed it down onto the vox again and again and again. Eventually he dropped the rock and collapsed to the floor amid the shattered fragments of plastek and metal. Minutes passed until the burning pain in his left hand brought the boy back to his senses.

After retying his bandages the boy finished moving the desk and was able to scramble out onto the roof. As he had suspected, the lean of the building was enough for him to be able to jump across to the other side of the canal.

It was at that moment that the monster came hurtling down from the sky with the roar of jet engines.

“You’ve done very well,” it said. “This time I’m going to have to take two fingers.”

The boy turned and ran. He leapt across the gap, realising a moment too late that he had misjudged the distance. He crashed into the other building and pain shot through his torso. He tried to cling on to the edge, but his damaged left hand gave way and he fell.

There was another jarring impact, but the boy hadn’t hit the ground or the water. In fact, he was now moving up... He opened his eyes and saw that the monster had caught him. It was carrying him over the buildings and now it was descending to the road below.

As soon as they landed the monster readjusted its grip so it was only holding the boy by one hand, clasped tightly around the boy’s throat. With its other hand it drew a long, bloodstained knife, one of many holstered across its midnight blue body. The boy’s attention was particularly drawn to an elegant knife embedded with a small ruby that hung at the monster’s waist.

“That was foolish,” the monster said. “I may have to take an extra finger to punish you for that. Would you like me to take them all from one hand, or would you like me to balance you out a bit?”

The boy tried to struggle and scream, but the monster’s grip was too tight and the boy couldn’t even get enough air to breathe properly.

There was an explosion nearby, followed by the sounds of gunfire from some surviving soldiers and some of the other monsters. The monster holding the boy had an impassive metal face, but even so it managed to look annoyed. It dropped the boy to the ground.

“Stay here,” it commanded and then took off with a roar of sound.

The boy struggled to his feet and examined the ruby-embedded knife he had stolen. It was short compared to the monster’s other knife, and much thinner, but the boy reckoned that if he caught the monster by surprise he might be able to stab it in a joint between its neck and head. The boy ran into the nearest building and made his way to the first floor. He crouched down below a broken window and waited.

Minutes later the monster returned from the sky. It looked up and down the street before stalking towards the building the boy was hiding in. As it passed below the window the boy jumped down, knife outstretched. The monster reacted instantly, batting out a hand and catching the boy full in the face. The boy went flying through the air, the knife spinning out of his hand. He crashed into a wall and embraced the cold blackness of oblivion.

*

The boy woke up in a dark, featureless cell. The monster sat opposite him, examining the ruby-embedded knife the boy had stolen.

“I must admit, I’m impressed,” said the monster. “But you must be punished for taking this. It belonged to my cousin, who gave it to me moments before he died. It has sentimental value.”

The boy said nothing.

“Do you know what I am?” the monster asked.

“You’re a monster,” said the boy.

The monster laughed. “You are quite right. But once I was just like you. And now you’re going to become just like me.”

“I’ll never be like you,” the boy replied, as defiantly as he could.

“Whatever made you think you have a choice in the matter?” said the monster.


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#24
The Pariah

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“Bring them out.”

 

I look around the tight space; body huddled next to the rest of the boys. Each face I could see held the mark of fear and horror, knowing full well the same mark was across my own face. We’d been taken from our parents, if we were lucky to have them, and taken away by monsters clad in black and red, with the weapons wielded by the gods themselves. I still remember the cold clutch as I was dragged out from the safety of darkness, crying and screaming my defiance until it was absorbed into those of his fellow boys from this cage marked with blood and death. The very cage had opened up now and I was forced to join the push merely to survive. Those at the very edge of the cage were blinded by the flooding light, trampled underfoot in their confusion.

 

The sight that greeted them filled them with dread. We all scrambled into an arena, once used by the gods to train and practise, now to root out the weak and collect the strong. Every kid dreaded the arena, if you were born in the darkness of the ship you would have to be deaf to have not heard the tales. Once you were in, you either died screaming or walked out as somebody else. I didn’t care though, I just wanted out of that forsaken cage!

 

“You have been chosen to walk the path,” snarled the monster, held up above the crowd on a balcony, “This is your first step. Only fifty of you can make the next step. It paused, the cold blood red eyes scanning along the crowd of boys. I felt it look at me and dread ran down my spine, frozen in place not only by the look but the sheer amount of bodies within. Something made me look up and horror set in as I realised weapons were held up by chains from the roof

 

Fight.” Screams echoed throughout the arena as the mixture of weapons dropped.

 

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I don’t remember what happened next, limbs chained to a steel table. My tattered clothing is littered with liquid, a mixture of my own and others. Muffled screams can be heard through the steel door leading to beyond the ship. Where? Only the gods knew where I am being held. The sound of metal hitting metal echoed beyond my room, shattering what nervous I still had in check. Time passed and the sound of air being released shuddered my focus, turning my attention towards the entering god, clad in the same black and red as his brothers. His hands were covered in blood however and a weird contraption slung onto his wrist.

 

I remember you,” growled the god, each step towards me sending thunder through the floor, making it move slightly under the force, “One from the pits. Captain Shailyn has his eye on you boy; I wouldn’t throw all that raw skill all away by dying now.”

I stare at the gods’ bloodied gauntlets, my recent cuts burning their pain into my nerves, “What…do you want…”

 

A blade flicked out from the contraption, raised up slowly to my face; this blade has been used many times for mercy killing and worse, “It is not what I want, it is what I will gift you that concerns you, little man. What matters...?” A pause “is if you are able to receive this gift and live.” Before I can mutter a reply multiple blades and tubes exit the contraption, firing into action. My far cry of a shirt is torn open, blades sliding into my skin, pain flaring through my body. There isn’t enough time to scream as my mouth is grabbed open and a tube slides in, taking genetics, liquids and so on before it retracts along with the rest of the blades. I scream out my pain and defiance for a moment before the darkness takes my sight and I fall unconscious.

 

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Time has passed once again, yet I’m still bound to the table. I think it is the same table. The same god steps through the door yet he appears….clearer. It edges are sharper, it colours more clear. Now I could here every creak with every movement he made, the humming as well. I can even stare him right in the face now, the ceiling even now closer as I start to realise what has happened.

 

You survived.” The god paused as he removed his helmet, revealing a face scarred from battle, “Good. Captain Shailyn will be pleased about your development,” It, -he- paused, his contraption revealed a blade. I closed my eyes yet no pain came, no scars added. Instead, the chains fell away as they were cut, my body slamming down onto the cold floor, “You needn’t worry, I would lose my head if I slit your throat now.” He moved away from me, stepping towards the door. I pulled myself up using the table, finding to my surprise the tables’ edge bend under my new strength.

 

“What have you done to me?” I ask, examining the multiple scars crossing my body.

 

“You’re one of us brother,” replied the traitor marine, “Welcome to the Long War.”


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#25
Tenebris

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Awesome posts. It will be really hard to find the best one among so many great narratives. And spooky as asked. Well done frater!


There is only the Truth. I do not know what it is, but I do believe in it!

Attributed to Dark Apostle Toren Mar, Chapter of the Broken Seal, 71st Host, Word Bearers Legion.

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