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post #1 of 28 (permalink) Old 09-30-11, 01:10 PM Thread Starter
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Default Heresy-Online's Expeditious Stories 10: Deliverance

Here's how it works:

Each month, there will be a thread posted in the Original Works forum for that month's HOES competition. For those of you interested in entering, read the entry requirements, write a story that fits the chosen theme and post it as a reply to the competition thread by the deadline given.

Once the deadline has passed, a separate voting thread will be posted, where the readers and writers can post their votes for the top three stories. Points will be awarded (3 points for 1st, 2 for 2nd, and 1 for 3rd) for each vote cast, totaled at the closure of the voting window, and a winner will be announced. The winner will have his/her story added to the Winning HOES thread.

Theme

The idea with the theme is that it should serve as the inspiration for your stories rather than a constraint. While creative thinking is most certainly encouraged, the theme should still be relevant to your finished story. The chosen theme can be applied within the WH40K, WHF, HH, and even your own completely original works (though keep in mind, this IS a Warhammer forum) but there will be no bias as to which setting is used for your story.

As far as the theme goes, please feel free with future competitions to contact me with your ideas/proposals, especially given that my creative juices may flow a bit differently than yours. All I ask is that you PM me your ideas rather than posting them into the official competition entry/voting threads to keep posts there relevant to the current competition.

Word Count

The official word count for each competition will be 1,000 words. There will be a 10% allowance in this limit, essentially giving you a 900-1,100 word range with which to tell your tale. This is non-negotiable. This is an Expeditious Story competition, not an Epic Story nor an Infinitesimal Story competition. If you are going to go over or under the 900-1,100 word limit, you need to rework your story. It is not fair to the other entrants if one does not abide by the rules. If you cannot, feel free to PM me with what you have and I'll give suggestions or ideas as to how to broaden or shorten your story.

Each entry must have a word count posted with it. Expect a reasonably cordial PM from me (and likely some responses in the competition thread) if you either fail to adhere to this rule. The word count can be annotated either at the beginning or ending of your story, and does not need to include your title.

Without further ado...

The theme for this month's competition is:

Deliverance

Entries should be posted in this thread, along with any comments that the readers may want to give (and comments on stories are certainly encouraged in both the competition and voting threads!) 40K, 30K, WHF, and original universes are all permitted (please note, this excludes topics such as Halo, Star Wars, Forgotten Realms, or any other non-original and non-Warhammer settings). Keep in mind, comments are more than welcome! If you catch grammar or spelling errors, the writers are all more than free to edit their piece up until the close of the competition, and that final work will be the one considered for voting. Sharing your thoughts with the writers as they come up with their works is a great way to help us, as a FanFiction community, grow as a whole.

The deadline for entries is Midnight US Eastern Standard Time (-5.00 hours for you UK folks)Saturday, 22 October 2011. Voting will be held from 23 October - 29 October.

Additional Incentive
If simply being victorious over your comrades is not enough to possess you to write a story, there will be rep rewards granted to those that participate in the HOES Challenge.

Partipation - 5 reputation points, everyone will receive this
3rd place - 10 reputation points
2nd place - 20 reputation points
1st place - 30 reputation points

If you have any questions, feel free to either PM me or ask in this thread.

Without further nonsense from me, let the writing begin!



Table of Contents

Adrian: What price can one put on deliverance?

gothik: Deliver Us from Evil

ThatOtherGuy: The Thing

C'tan Chimera: Barry's Last Broadcast

Brother Emund: The Emperor Protects

Taliesin: Deliverance

Todeswind: Savage

Andygorn: Upon Brotherhood...

Shogun_Nate: From the Depths of despair I cry to you, O Lord

VulkansNodosaurus: From Oneself


Heresy-Online's Expeditious Stories Challenge 13-06: "Serenity" has started, get your stories in by July 11th!

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post #2 of 28 (permalink) Old 09-30-11, 07:15 PM
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hmmmmmm apart from the obvious this is gonna be a good one
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post #3 of 28 (permalink) Old 10-03-11, 07:26 AM
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@gothik: Do you mean like 2 Noise Marines squaring off against each other and playing "duelling banjo's"? (lol)

Urgently trying to trace any living relatives of Private Sam/Samuel "Jock" Wilson (Black Watch, No. 6 Commando, UK Army Service ID 2764432, died 10.06.44). Any info/suggestions gratefully received.

"Mockles! Pent on silpen tree, blockards three a-feening. Mockles! What silps came to thee, in thy pantry, dreaming?"

Please check out the HOES (Heresy Online Stories) threads and vote for the tales.
More feedback = better stories for everyone.
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LOL andy i was thinking more two raven guard walking the field of battle to the tune of Delierance by the mission lol
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post #5 of 28 (permalink) Old 10-03-11, 08:39 PM
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Default ‘What price can one put on deliverance?’

‘What price can one put on deliverance?’


Daemon-engines marched. They moved with dread steps that shook the earth to its very foundations with terror and corruption. Twenty-five death machines replete with screaming souls bound to their very essence wailed for their deliverance from the endless torments they endured.

Chaos had come to Verialious II, damnation from the shadows now moved freely into the light of day. All the prayers of a faithful world of the Imperiam had fallen upon ears both deaf and uncaring. Void-shields burned bloody-red around the two-hundred-fifty foot murder-monsters as they absorbed the firepower coming at them from the capital city’s all but useless defense platforms.

From their horns they made their intent known to a world that already quaked with mind-numbing abuse. Fire and blood along with cones of smoke fifty meters long erupted from the cannons of the corrupted Titans as they released their ordinance.

In the far distance super-novas bloomed like melting suns as the cursed shells decimated whole quarters of the capital’s cityscape. Buildings that had stood for five-thousand years collapsed in heaps of smoke and ash while their iron skeletons melted with the heat of the screaming blaze.

The Princeps of the Apostate writhed in his amniotic bubble issuing commands to his moderati while blaspheming the Emperor’s name and laughing maniacally with insane abandon. Argon the Mindless watched through mechanical eyes, surveying the battlefield with ten-thousand years experience lending him information and purpose.

‘Death to this world!’’ he shouted through the war-horn. ‘Death to his beloved; to the faithful followers of the corpse-god!’ At his voice the souls bound to the Titan screamed in horror as whips of psychic lightning raked them. Their eyes were open to the spirit realm and they shuttered as they watched the winged shadows pour from the ether.

The sky turned black with smoke and flaming debris as the Titan’s fired their weapons again. Death had come to Verialious II and there could be no escape from the wrath of Chaos.

Planetary Governor Bartos Coble stood behind darkened plate-glass windows shaking with fear and desperation as he watched his world collapsing around him. His oversized body was clothed in purple-red robes that bore rings of sweat that stained the rich fabric.

His voice shook as he called for help that would never come from vox-casters that no longer carried a signal. Governor Bartos fell to the floor as another blast tore a city block asunder before his very eyes. ‘Emperor have mercy on us!’ he wailed, his voice like a child’s rot with all the emotion of a helpless victim.

Around him the air grew stale and feted as rime-frost began to crawl up the plate-glass window. The wallpaper curled like extra long fingernails; blackened and fell away from the walls to lie useless upon the green marble floor.

Around the Governor shadows thickened as webs of smoke began to form in the air and swirl like ink in a glass of water. Through the warp-portal a man walked clad in simple robes of black, head covered in a deep shadowed hood.

He spoke with boldness and held himself in contempt of the Governor’s authority. He was not here to play games, but to offer his services to assure the survival of Verialious II. Outside another blast brought down a skyscraper and tore the air with screams of daemons intent on decimation.

The Governor shook and hid his face, but the man clad in black robes moved without fear to stand before the prostrate fat man on the floor. ‘My name is Tobias Malicar.’ he said. His voice was like fire burning in the Governor’s mind. It burned away everything else except the person standing before him.

‘You have two choices before you. Employ my services or die.’ The Governor looked up from his terror, but could not see the man’s face. He imagined that if he could he would die from fright. Somehow he knew the man before him could bring his world deliverance, but at what cost?

‘Do not tarry. I will bring you deliverance.’ The man said. ‘What price will we pay for your help and how can I know you can deliver us from the hands of Chaos?’ the Governor ventured.

‘Do not put me to the test or I will leave you to your doom! Me or death!’ the cloaked man shouted into the Governor’s mind. Blood fell from his eyes and flowed from his mouth as his teeth shattered. The Governor submitted, ‘You.’ is all he could say.

Tobias Malicar smiled and walked back into the whirling miasma from where he had come. Moments later he emerged from the warp-hole with lightning flashing and a tsunami of energy that shot forth and annihilated the void-shields of the lead Titan.

The Princeps of the Apostate screamed as the psychic feedback slammed him like a hammer within his skull. Blood swirled in his amniotic fluid from the burst blood vessels behind his eyes. Blind, Argon the Mindless screamed, his voice echoing from the war horn. The souls bound to the daemon-engine echoed his voice with screams of their own.

All across the landscape the other twenty-four Titans stumbled as the earth below them rippled for no apparent reason. Before them the Psyker shouted. Unprepared for his power, two smaller engines burst into flames and fell onto their backs, the souls held within, freed from the wards that bound them.

The Psyker thrust forth his hands and the rest of the void-shields protecting the Titans imploded with reverse energy that cracked the hulls of the mighty war-giants. With a final shout Tobias Malicar screamed into the minds of those operating the machines and tore them apart. Clenching his fists he broke their bones and reaved their flesh from them as well.

With a breath slowly escaping from his mouth, he broke the remaining wards and brought deliverance to those who had been bound. The freed souls wept with relief as they escaped their chains. Verialious II had also been delivered, but at what cost? Tobias Malicar smiled as he thought about it.

In the distance fires burned, the smoke billowing in the ancient sky. Blood-red beams of light from Verialious’s sun pressed through alighting upon Tobias Malicar as he thought about the price he would demand. ‘What price can one put on deliverance?’ he said to himself.



1,063 words including title.

A good reputation take a long time to build, but only a moment to destroy. Wow, that's deep! Check out the H.O.E.S. short story competition.
Other stories from Adrian.
Look up Adrian in the "Compendium" to find them. Thanks
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post #6 of 28 (permalink) Old 10-03-11, 10:17 PM
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Deliver us from evil

A story of Deliverance

Word count 1067 excluding title


The coastal village was like any other across the length and breadth of the Empire. Suspicion hung high in the air as the lone rider wearing all black made his way into town on the back of a magnificent black steed.

He did not look at anyone nor did he deign to acknowledge anyone he just kept his eyes front and centre, his destination his own affair.

Kelisan was a fishing town that had fallen on hard times, the fish no longer swam here and when they were did they were foul, inedible and worthless. It had been that way since the wreck of the Manathlans Spear, a boat belonging to the elusive and secretive Sea Elves.

That was three years ago and whilst no one had been brought to trial for such an act the bad luck followed. There were those that wanted the guilty ones named, shamed and hung for murder, whilst there were others that snorted it was Mannan who had brought the wealth the town had lived off and if them there Sea Elves thought they had the right to travel the seas then they had the right for salvage.


The horseman got off his horse at the end of the street, he motioned a stable boy over, paid him some silver and walked into the Inn, the boy lead the horse into the stable and wondered who the stranger was.

There were no makings on his clothes or his saddle to even suggest if he was from the army, navy, or temples. Curiosity struck the youth and he snuck into the back and sat in a corner, making himself look as small as possible so that he would not be seen.

In the corner sat the priest of Mannan and the priest of Sigmar, both the principle deities of this village and on pretty good turns. Beside them sat their enforcers. Gruff brutes that were paid to ‘take care’ of complications aroused by the priests own lusts and actions

The stranger took a seat at the bar and waited until the room had gone silent as always happened when anyone unknown rode into town.

“Tell me, Priests” He almost spat the words in contempt “Why is it that these waters are poison to the fish that would be so bountiful here”

Both Priests looked to each other wondering why this stranger would dare address them in such a manner. Did he have no respect for their positions?

“Tell me good sir who are you to be talking to us in such a manner” The Priest of Mannan snorted in derision.

“I asked you a question did I not?” The stranger picked his tankard up; the youth could make out the pale hand that gripped the tankard, as pale as death. “Perhaps I can answer it for you.” He turned in his seat his hat covering his face like a shroud.

“The vessel wrecked here three years ago was a vessel of the Sea Elves. Their cargo spilled into the ocean like unwanted bauble. Now, why did such a vessel with such an experienced crew wreck themselves?”

The Priest of Sigmar went to answer but was silenced by the strangers raised finger.

“I have been up and down this coastline and can see no possible reason for it, unless the lights on the rocks warning sailors to stay away on dark stormy nights was changed from red to green”

Everyone in the inn lowered their gazes to tables or floors. This Coast was well known for the murderous act of wrecking, deliberately changing the lights on the cliffs from danger to safe.

When the ship was foundered the crew would be murdered one by one and their cargo would be taken and sold on. Everyone knew it was that, no one knew who had done it but they had not been truthful about why such sea born children, as Sea Elves would misjudge the waters they knew so well.

“You are mistaken sir, for that is a crime punishable by death” The innkeeper, a portly man who might have been handsome once until age and too much good living caught up with him, explained to the stranger.

He glanced out the window as the sea fog came in low this night and the eerie light of Moorslieb followed with it.

“You have until midnight to bring those responsible to the beach head where the lights were turned off…. or you all die”

The stranger got to his feet and walked out the inn.


The fog swirled around the stranger as midnight approached and only the stable boy came to the beachhead where the lights had been changed.

“Please sir, I – I don’t want to die”

The hooded stranger looked down at the boy and cocked his head to one side. He asked the boy if he knew who was responsible for murder.

The boy looked around him and told him what he knew, he told him that the Priests, tired of the money the Sea Elves earnt for fishing in waters inaccessible to human fishermen and jealous of their fabulous cargo arranged for the vessel to be wrecked with the Burgomaster and his henchmen.

The stranger listened and told the boy to leave the town and never come back. Later that night the screams started.


The boy watched from his hiding place the stranger sat atop his horse and did nothing as the sea fog brought the drowned back to life and the murdered to extract their revenge against those responsible.

Blood filled the streets and those caught in the tendrils were pulled back into the whirling whips of cloud to be disposed off by the dead.

The boy closed his eyes as the fog moved back towards the sea taking its grisly cargo with it. The stranger looked over to where the boy sat cowering and made his way over.

“The evil was in the town itself” He explained “I have delivered you from a life of sin had you stayed here.”

“Who – Who are you?” The boy asked.

“I am Mannans Deliverance, for murder on his domain I deliver him those responsible” and with that he rode into the ocean and disappeared beneath the waves.

The village was empty and after the boy relayed his story it remained that way as a reminder to those who did not heed Mannans words

Last edited by gothik; 10-04-11 at 04:42 PM.
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post #7 of 28 (permalink) Old 10-04-11, 03:31 AM
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The Thing.


Horatio was coughing and wheezing as he slammed the massive rusty vault door shut behind him, locking it frantically after. It was a selfish move to do to his retinue, but the primal scenario of flight forced him subliminally to forsake any sort of human compassion in the act of saving his own hide. Behind the massive door, he could hear the faint screams of death, sending a shameful shiver down his spine as he listened to the deaths of his servants. He knew he should have waited at least for a moment to let some of his members in on with him. But alas, even an inquisitor can be thoughtless at times of extreme horror and conflict.

When the last of the tormented cries dissipated, Horatio slowly walked over to the corner of the vault and slumped down next to the wall. Without a moment further he began to weep bitterly, the grief of failing to be honorable and courageous in the face of danger was too much to hold back. But then again, how could he be courageous against that… thing. How could one, save for the Emperor, could bring to bear the bravery against such a malicious creature like that? Even Gergan the boastful fled from the scene as well, a man who has shown never to run from the adversary.

As Horatio mentally tried to come up with some shameful reason as to justify his cowardly move and behavior, a large and terrifying clang echoed from behind the door followed by an ear piercing scraping. Horatio’s fears went into overdrive at that horrid sound and began to believe that this was the end of him. He scrambled through his coat and pulled out his dormant inferno pistol and prayer book, deciding that if this was truly the end of the line for him, he might as well redeem himself in front of the Emperor by fighting to the death. Igniting the flame within the pistol, he aimed the ancient weapon at the door, ready to unleash a fury of melta at the thing once it broke through.

“In the blackest day and darkest night…” Horatio began to whisper.

Horatio jumped a bit as the vault door bent inward, the creature on the other side making a forceful blow to come in. The cacophony of scratching claws and gnashing teeth sung horrendously on the other side as the creature braced itself for another attempt.

“None can withstand the Emperor’s light…”

Another slam against the vault door and the main lock blew off, only the emergency lock still standing strong. The thing behind the door began to growl even more fiercely and Horatio heard it.

“For it is the Emperor’s light protecting us…”

At last the door exploded off, the monstrosity from the other side proving that no barrier could hold it back. Horatio screamed once his eyes laid upon the… thing. A gibbering mass of amorphous flesh and gnashing limbs, it was a monster of unnatural and abominable construction. Horatio pressed down on the trigger and a torrent of sub atomic heat exploded out.

“And is shall deliver us!” Horatio screamed fanatically.

The pistol did its damage as it was designed, burning away at most of the monsters flesh and mass. While it did scream out in wild pain and agony, the damage that Horatio dealt really did nothing at all. Instead the creature’s wounds morphed into mouths of wicked nature and grew into weaponized appendages of both boney and lucid build. The thing flailed and kicked with these limbs as it slowly moved towards Horatio.

The Inquisitor grabbed his holy book and threw it at the monster and sprinted off behind it as a last minute attempt for survival. While the action with the book did nothing, Horatio’s flight did. He managed miraculously to pass by this nightmarish thing and sprinted down the hall back towards where he and his crew made fall upon the hulk. But the thing pursued Horatio, growing grotesque limbs from its fleshy body and sprinting after him. Horatio could hear the beast up from behind and ran faster. But it too picked up the pace. Horatio could see at the very end of the hall their boarding ship, invigorating him even more as to escape. But as he was only ten paces away, a fleshy tentacle grabbed his foot and dragged him towards the beast.

Horatio looked up and saw that the entrance of the boarding pod growing smaller and smaller as he dragged screaming. He kicked and flailed as to break the thing’s grasp, but its clench was too strong. The abomination then lifted the inquisitor high off the ground and dangled him above it as if to tease him. Horatio looked below and could see the mass coughing up some hideous pillar of flesh from its exposed bowels. Horatio was absolutely speechless at the sight of this mutation, for when the bubbling pillar of flesh reached to his eye level, it split in half to reveal a mimicked head of Gergan.

“Pray all you want organism… for it will do nothing to save you from my appetite.” It spoke emotionlessly.

The parody head then exploded into clawed feelers and devoured the inquisitor wholly, shredding his body into a bloody mess save for the cloths. Once the servant of the Emperor was finished, the thing compressed itself and transformed to appear exactly like his recent meal, taking the form and shape of the inquisitor. The mimicked Horatio then stood up and dressed himself in the former’s cloths and whistled to itself as it headed off towards the boarding ship, eager to leave this empty hulk in search of new food with the help of this… new disguise.

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Barry's Last Broadcast
1100 words excluding title

----------------------


[Last Known Records from Stygies IV]
:: Innocence Proves Nothing::

=Begin Transcript=


++...Da-n machine spi---[total static], quit toying around an-[static continues] Ah! Haha, it’s like a little holiday ++

++ This is sergeant Tarin Shebast of the 193rd regiment of the Iron Wings…What’s left of it, that is.++

++Got a better look up there? If that’s not enough to give you an idea of what I’m shooting for, I’ll spell it out++

++ We are fucked. ++

++I’m dead either way, so I’m just gonna go ahead and take a few liberties to properly lay the facts straight.++

[Static briefly returns as Tarin goes offscreen, sounds of heavy lifting as the camera appears to be hoisted up]

++ Yeah… I’m carrying around the remains of communications officer Barry and his vox gear like a camera… Just a torso and head- I call him Torso boy! Guess duty doesn't end with death after all. ++

++[Heavy static interference, sounds of a storm raging in the background]-nids showed up like we expected++

++ -ould- -th just the Ne- Work, dammit![Sounds of bashing] Much better. Tyranids aren’t a problem anymore… [static as pict screen is readjusted, revealing a landscape of dozens upon dozens of dead tyranid rippers and gaunts].++

++ -was that Earthshaker bombardment they did awhile back when the whole fleet showed up. Blew a hole so big surprised even the bombardiers- figured we’d scared them silly at that point.++

++ Nonononooooh noo we didn’t.++

[Tarin shows up onscreen, battered and bloodstained]

++ [static surge]-gured they were charging, had all sorts of giants, some four stories tall. Dunno if you have any of them logged in your Ordo Xenos Book of Weird Shit or whatever.++

[Image clears up a little- Tarin’s covered in bruises and blood]

++-lmost there now, don’t wor--- Damn throne! Not a----++

[Picture resumes at a new location, the remains of what appears to be a barracks with corrupt geometry not endorsed in any standard construction template]

++ Get this. They were charging alright, all of them, deathleapers, screechers and all. But not at us, nono. ++

[Tarin props the vox and remains of Barry against a nearby structure, revealing even more bodies, including guardsmen]

++ They charged past us. That’s right. Even the critters they shoot out of their guns ignored us. Ever heard of that caliber of BS anywhere except this?!++

[Tarin pulls out his Imperial Guardsman’s Uplifting Primer and spits on it]

[Tarin hurls it at the screen, causing a surge of static and the vox, presumably Barry’s helmet still fastened to his head, to tilt]

++Bugs don’t run. Never run. At least we thought. Remember that unidentified object directing the Hivefleet’s movement? Codenamed the Dyson Sphere? Yeah, I know about that- and it definitely wasn’t Tyranid.++

[Slinging the voxcaster’s remains over his shoulder, the pict shows Tarin’s legs stepping over bodies, Tyranid and Guardsmen alike, all with agape mouths and anguished poses]

++-- pent a good afternoon working on this just for you++

[Vox drops to the floor and is propped against a hallway wall, revealing a pile of decorated bodies]

++The bugs were running from something, hot on their scuttling heels. Guess what? It showed up too! What we did was stumble between a predator and its prey. Now guess who was the prey…++

[A dead hormagaunt’s head is dragged onscreen, taking up most of the pict space, Tarin’s hands moving its jaw up and down, laughing]

++That’s right! Big bad bugs oughta been called the jitterbugs! HA.HA. Sorry Torso Boy, gonna have to manhandle you a little more… Nnnggh++

++You’re gonna love this part++

[pict feed focuses in on the bodies, revealing them to be Commissariat Officers]

++That’s riiight! Take a gander! We got a whole Legion’s worth of dead commissars! Cause of death?++

++No, not Tyranids.++

++ Nope! Not traitors… They did it themselves. [Tarin holds up the arm of one body confirmed to be Commissar Fenris, pistol in hand] That’s right- death grip so tight I can’t get his laspistol out of his fucking hand! A commissar commits suicide! But not just one… All of ‘em! I compiled a whole mound of bodies- hangmen who needed deliverance from the sight of this nightmare so badly that they checked themselves out prematurely. That’s how FUCKED we are!++

++…Can’t pretend to know what it looked like- got lucky and managed to close my eyes long enough when we all heard it coming. Oh man, the sound of that thing… My brain can’t handle it. I can’t begin to describe it. Howling… But not. Howling and talking, talking from all angles. Crying, laughing, roaring… I’d say ask the others for clarification, but they’re all dead. I just kept reciting prayers over and over to drown it out, and kept doing it after it was gone and still kept at it until the prayers meant nothing. Then I hid++

++ Those that did get a good peep either butchered each other screaming or went so crazy they made out with their own flashlights instead++

++It’s just me now, and I’ve seen enough to be labeled a heretic twice over. Ever stop to think what could ever make a Commissar kill himself just because he saw what it was?... Oh, yeah- failed to mention that part. It didn’t even attack us. It just glided right on past us after the bugs. This? All of this? Just from LOOKING AT THE GODDAMN THING!++

[Tarin storms off screen, cursing profusely]

++ Nuke this place.++

[Tarin comes back into view, tears rolling down his bloodshot eyes, biting into his lip so hard that blood is drawn]

++I’m not crazy. No I’m not. Had to dismember Barry’s corpse to make it movable, yeah, but I’m not nuts. Not like those guys. You couldn’t tell now since they’re all quiet, but they all died screaming…Barking…Begging. Commissars handed out the Emperor’s mercy left and right until even they cracked too.++

++ Annihilate it. Even the bugs wanted deliverance. The freaking bugs!++

++If you’ve got any access to the HQ’s vital stats, you should see me on there. Look my location up on a satellite and drop the bombs right on top of my head. Everything’s quiet now, but it’s still out there…that thing is still out there somewhere, oh throne…++

++ I-[static from audibly growing storm]care---luable these forgeworlds are and you won’t either if that thing comes knocking...++

++-ree birds with one stone----- [More static discharges]a hive fleet… a cosmic monstrosity AND a heret---++

++Turn this whole goddamn system into space dust++

[Deafening thunder]

++Nuke it.++


=End Transcript=


---------------------------

Oooh man, that felt cathartic after weeks of academic writing. Figured I'd do something spooky since the results come in just around the time of Halloween, no?

Anyway, back into the meatgrinder!

Last edited by C'Tan Chimera; 10-04-11 at 12:16 PM.
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The Emperor Protects
1075 words


“Why do you continue with this charade?”
“Ceesay, Corporal….”
“Open your mind Corporal Ceesay”
“Two-four-six…”
“Yes, yes… Army number two-four-six-one-one-nine-seven-nine. Four-thirty-first Norcium Rangers.
Corporal Ceesay, your resilience is a credit to you, but you can save yourself the trouble. We know all about you and the unit you are in’ the interrogator paused for several seconds ‘your comrades have already told us everything”
“Ceesay, Corporal…”

The interrogator glanced to his left and the machine began to hum again.
“Save yourself the agony Corporal, open your mind, and release yourself to the embrace of the true God. We will enlighten you; show you another way, another life. Just relax and let us in. Become one of us”
“Spell this out pox head. Go-and-fuc….”

Pain. Raw, undiluted pain. Burning, scolding, incredible….

Ceesay passed out.

* * *


Germinus Obscura
Day one hundred and sixty two

Main Entrance, Green Street Bastion


It had been three hours since the last attack. That was unheard of. The enemy had always attacked on the hour.
Corporal Ceesay lifted his magnoculars and swept the open streets in front of him. For as far as the eye could see, the ground was an anarchic tangle of blasted rockcrete, smashed vehicles and the detritus of a battlefield hotly contested.
The enemy were consistent, he would give them that. The hundreds of red-armoured bodies that littered the field showed their determination to take the fight to the Imperials. Their rank, decaying corpses, looked like beetles laid out in the sun. Only their shape would tell you that they were actually human.

Human?

Ceesay used the word loosely. Perhaps they were once, but now? When they sold their souls for the price of immortality, they lost the right to the title ‘human’. Now they were anything but, mere shadows of what once was.
Ceesay remembered the first encounter he had with them, the day he killed the first of them.
The Arbites compound had been overrun and their bodies had been skinned and hung from the Precinct walls. There were frantic calls from help coming in from all over the district, people were dying everywhere and the local PDF locked themselves up in their barracks and screamed at the regulars to do something about it.

Ceesay and his men…
We were on leave for Thrones sake.

They had just started a well-earned stretch of R and R after six months of chasing Eldar reavers all over the system.
We had earned a break. And now this.

Ceesay and his section had found a muster point and confiscated weapons from the ill-trained PDF troopers, before commandeering a transport bound for the Space Port.
The planet had gone mad with gangs of doped-up civilians attacking anything that moved and the rule of law crushed under the weight of a million iron-shod boots.
They had got to the Port just as the first enemy transports landed, disgorging their cargo of the red-armoured troops.
Chaos troops. Servants of a corrupt God, bound to the destruction of Humanity

Ceesay’s driver had accelerated and then ploughed through a throng of the enemy, its eight wheels crushing them easily, and scattering the rest. They had reached the main gates and Ceesay could see some of the defenders frantically signalling to them to move.
The Corporal jumped down from the cab, just as one of the red-armoured enemy stepped in front of him.
This was very wrong. It was a man, but not a man. Where once was a face there was now a bulging open wound that was not caused by injury, but for a purpose.
Chaos.
His enemy bellowed through sutured lips and brought up a long-barrelled lasgun with a wicked curved bayonet attached.

Ceesay was quicker.
He had fought Reavers and had won, beating them at their own game in hand-to-hand combat, using only his boot knife and lots of raw, unadulterated aggression. He struck low and hard into his enemy’s groin, opening up the femoral artery and castrating it in one swift move.
He twisted the blade and struck again, coming in an arc and digging deep into the soft area below its left ear. It dropped, barely making a sound.
And they ran.

And now, over five months later, he was standing, defending the last place of resistance on the planet.

Help was coming they said. Hold out they had said, and they fought the red Chaos troops. Matching their bestial fury with a ferocity borne out of desperation.
Then the tanks had come, and line upon line of robotic monstrosities that screeched obscenities at the defenders before the defences finally collapsed. His men died, he lived.
That was the way of things.

* * *

Ceesay could hear firing outside and the dull thumps of explosions. The atmosphere in the cell immediately changed. He felt a deep dread come over him and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up.

He was about to die.

Suddenly his interrogator slumped forward, his twisted face, now a gaping hole. Ceesay was covered with gore and brain matter, but despite it all, he suddenly felt elated.
The gigantic form of a Space Marine stood at the entrance to the cell with a smoking Stormbolter in his right fist and a large rectangular shield in his left.

“Thanks be to the Emperor” Ceesay muttered through cracked teeth. The marine stepped inside and surveyed the interior.
“Are you alone?” came a metallic voice. Ceesay grinned.
“Not any more. A Space Marine? You are the last thing that I expected to see”.
Ceesay could tell that the marine was communicating with the others outside. He sat back and laughed aloud. He had made it, he had beaten them all, he had prevailed, and now he had been saved.

“Soldier?” asked the Marine. Ceesay grinned.
“Yeah, Corporal Ceesay, Jack Ceesay, Norcium Rangers”
“Do you see me?”
Ceesay blinked rapidly, his eyes suddenly focussing.
“An Astartes?”
The huge figure moved closer and bent down. A rugged face, scared from countless battles, and with eyes that had seen too much, was studying him closely.
“I am your deliverance”
“A rescue?”
“Deliverance. Your pain and suffering is at an end”
“But, I don’t understand”, Ceesay was frantic now.
“You have seen too much, things that should not be seen”
“Them?”, he nodded at the dead creature that lay at his feet.
“Yes”
“You are a brave man Corporal. Now be at peace”

The Emperor Protects

"Death occurs when a lethal projectile comes together in time and space with a suitable target, in the absence of appropriate armour or protection”


Check out my 40K 'Epic' about the Hunted verses the Inquisition: https://www.heresy-online.net/forums/...98#post2184698


Last edited by Brother Emund; 10-11-11 at 09:50 AM. Reason: Adrian's advice!
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post #10 of 28 (permalink) Old 10-04-11, 07:22 PM
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Default Wow

Great stories so far. Real great reads.

A good reputation take a long time to build, but only a moment to destroy. Wow, that's deep! Check out the H.O.E.S. short story competition.
Other stories from Adrian.
Look up Adrian in the "Compendium" to find them. Thanks
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