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post #18 of (permalink) Old 02-15-16, 11:34 PM
Deus Mortis
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“I am not going to die!” I hissed to myself as my feet tore the dirt under my feet. Fear and rage mingled in my mind, the heady cocktail of hormones and adrenaline making the world tick over in slow motion. I saw a member of the squad stumble and fall but I dared not look back. To look back would be to falter and die. I ran in the centre of the pack, putting as many ablative bodies between me and wherever these creatures might appear from next. Oh Throne of Terra I would swear I could feel their breath on my neck.

A hoarse voice boomed behind me, spurring it’s fellows to run us down, but it didn’t matter. All I saw, all I focused on was the rapidly growing shape in the distance. The outpost was not far and even if my legs gave out on the other side at least it would be in relative safety. My heart pumped furiously and my muscles burned from lactic acid building up in them, but the pain would be nothing compared to death and only spurred me on. I would not die out here. Not to these monsters and not on land. I always believed the sea would claim me.

I was one of the first few through the threshold and I immediately spun on my heels and began to close the gate. No gunfire strafed out from the fort to thin the hoard chasing us and I couldn’t hear the voices of reinforcements, just the panicked grunts of our unit. Those of us that survived were almost all through, but I and a few others were closing the doors as fast as we could. The xenos monsters were too close to wait. The last of our group was almost through the door when he exploded, his viscera and brain-matter spraying through doorway just as we closed it. I heard his corpse slump against the door. I could taste blood in my mouth and I wasn’t sure if it was mine or the dead man’s.

I stood in the courtyard for a moment and tried to catch my breath. I was panting heavily, slowly checking over my las-carbine to make sure it still worked. There were only just over a dozen of us left by my count but we were alive. Holy Emperor, only 14 of us made it? What if they came back in more numbers and tried to storm the outpost? And where the hell was everyone else? This outpost was supposed to be garrisoned, but they were the only ones here. “Fucking hell…” I muttered, lacking anything else to say.

There was a noise from the main building. Perhaps the rest of the garrison hold up in there. Or perhaps a trap. I’m sure there should be more damage than this if the garrison was already dead. These brutes didn’t strike me as particularly gifted in guile. A man, Liam I think he was called, shouted about investigating the building whilst another. I stood in the middle of the courtyard, but trained my lascarbine on the entrance. If there was going to be an ambush I wanted enough distance between me and whatever came out of there to at least get some shots off. I would not die with a full clip.

My breaths were still ragged at the men approached the building entrance. Suddenly an inhuman voice called out. It sounded like the wrath of the ocean at the height of a storm. It called out the xenos, called them coward. It's words were undoubtedly a challenge and the end of my lascarbine trembled to hear such ferocity. A sickly orange light bathed the outward facing surfaces and there was the smell of scorched metal in the air. The men were still advancing on the main building. Holy Terra, this might be the end of all things. I locked my arms to steady my lascarbine and steeled myself for whatever might emerge from that door...

My contribution to the Renegades saga. Check it out

My growing IIIrd legion stuff:

17th Millenial (Homebrew Fluff) - "Children of the Emperor, death to his foes!" (Project Log)

Also my 30k tacticas, for those of you interested:

Crusade Army List tactica - Individual Legion tactica

Originally Posted by Angel of Blood View Post
And for two fucking grand, I could buy enough rum and hookers to 'artistically' recreate the better part of Pirates of the Caribbean.

Last edited by Deus Mortis; 02-18-16 at 10:52 AM.
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