Post by Paradill on Jan 28, 2011 11:57:17 GMT -5
So I have a house full of sleeping people and while I get the dinner on, I will write up this little bit of alternate fluff I've had in my head for a while..
Aftermath and Consequence
The battle was over now. The dead of both sides littered the rubble strewn streets as streams of festering blood flowed through the gutters, the thick of spilt viscera pouring into the sewers with a sickening stench. It was the stench of death that brought him from his comatose state into hell.
As he opened his eyes and struggled to focus on his surroundings he realised he was pinned, the command bunker had been under bombardment from a contingent of vindicators to the east, he could recall that much. The bunker must have been levelled, he found his lower body wedged between the ground and a large piece of thick ferrocrete siege wall. He was no medic, but he knew that the debris was the only thing keeping him from bleeding out. It was now when he would die, not if.
Letting his eyes settle on the distance, he took in the true extent of the carnage. The city was in ruins, dark and evil smoke seemed to be coming from every district, and the howls of indescribable monsters pervaded the air, chilling him to the bone. The setting sun cast the broken shadows of the Emperor's statues and temples in long, terrifying lines across the blast site, like darkened fingers sent to grasp and pull at his soul.
Turning to see if any of the numerous bodies that surrounded the area were in fact survivors, his eyes came to rest on the body next to him. He knew this man, the body was that of his closest friend, the sergeant. He had been in charge here, it was his plans that had been so totally wiped aside by the despoilers' hordes, he and the sergeant who had led their men unto ruin. Now it was he had killed his closest and oldest friend.
Taking two cigars from his breast pocket, he put them both in his mouth, lit them with an archaic, Terra style lighter and then put one in the partially open mouth of his dead friend. "Here's to you, old friend." he said.
Unholstering his pistol, he checked the charge, 2%, enough for one shot. Not much use against anything that chose to attack him, but use enough on himself. He sat there amongst the rubble and ruin of his life, with the body of his friend and his men, watching the sun set, watching the Emperor's light leave them all. As night fell and the pulsing sickness in the sky bathed everything in perfidious light, he heard shuffling on the outskirts of his vision.
From the darkness, a lumbering thing, still clad in the vestiges of Astartes armour came shambling forth, it's many limbs and mouths twisting and contorting to give it motion. No eyes remained in it's sunken and numerous eye sockets, which surrounded a gaping maw flanked with razor sharp, barbed mandibles. He was sure it was looking at him.
Shuffling to lie down and play dead, he dislodged some small rocks with his elbow and in an instant, the creature let out an ear splitting scream and charged forward, for a moment he put his pistol to his head rather than face death at the claws of this creature of chaos. Then something caught the corner of his eye and with one smooth motion he took aim with his pistol and fired his last shot directly through the beasts' maw, killing it outright.
Letting out a sigh he threw his pistol at the spawns' twitching corpse and turned his head once more towards his friends' body. The image of courage and honour as always, the colour sergeant still clung to the standard of his regiment. Letting himself smile ever so slightly, he let the sight of the regimental banner fill him with pride, he would die not as a coward, but as a man of the Imperial Guard, as an Officer. As Ursurkar E. Creed of the Cadian 8th...
Aftermath and Consequence
The battle was over now. The dead of both sides littered the rubble strewn streets as streams of festering blood flowed through the gutters, the thick of spilt viscera pouring into the sewers with a sickening stench. It was the stench of death that brought him from his comatose state into hell.
As he opened his eyes and struggled to focus on his surroundings he realised he was pinned, the command bunker had been under bombardment from a contingent of vindicators to the east, he could recall that much. The bunker must have been levelled, he found his lower body wedged between the ground and a large piece of thick ferrocrete siege wall. He was no medic, but he knew that the debris was the only thing keeping him from bleeding out. It was now when he would die, not if.
Letting his eyes settle on the distance, he took in the true extent of the carnage. The city was in ruins, dark and evil smoke seemed to be coming from every district, and the howls of indescribable monsters pervaded the air, chilling him to the bone. The setting sun cast the broken shadows of the Emperor's statues and temples in long, terrifying lines across the blast site, like darkened fingers sent to grasp and pull at his soul.
Turning to see if any of the numerous bodies that surrounded the area were in fact survivors, his eyes came to rest on the body next to him. He knew this man, the body was that of his closest friend, the sergeant. He had been in charge here, it was his plans that had been so totally wiped aside by the despoilers' hordes, he and the sergeant who had led their men unto ruin. Now it was he had killed his closest and oldest friend.
Taking two cigars from his breast pocket, he put them both in his mouth, lit them with an archaic, Terra style lighter and then put one in the partially open mouth of his dead friend. "Here's to you, old friend." he said.
Unholstering his pistol, he checked the charge, 2%, enough for one shot. Not much use against anything that chose to attack him, but use enough on himself. He sat there amongst the rubble and ruin of his life, with the body of his friend and his men, watching the sun set, watching the Emperor's light leave them all. As night fell and the pulsing sickness in the sky bathed everything in perfidious light, he heard shuffling on the outskirts of his vision.
From the darkness, a lumbering thing, still clad in the vestiges of Astartes armour came shambling forth, it's many limbs and mouths twisting and contorting to give it motion. No eyes remained in it's sunken and numerous eye sockets, which surrounded a gaping maw flanked with razor sharp, barbed mandibles. He was sure it was looking at him.
Shuffling to lie down and play dead, he dislodged some small rocks with his elbow and in an instant, the creature let out an ear splitting scream and charged forward, for a moment he put his pistol to his head rather than face death at the claws of this creature of chaos. Then something caught the corner of his eye and with one smooth motion he took aim with his pistol and fired his last shot directly through the beasts' maw, killing it outright.
Letting out a sigh he threw his pistol at the spawns' twitching corpse and turned his head once more towards his friends' body. The image of courage and honour as always, the colour sergeant still clung to the standard of his regiment. Letting himself smile ever so slightly, he let the sight of the regimental banner fill him with pride, he would die not as a coward, but as a man of the Imperial Guard, as an Officer. As Ursurkar E. Creed of the Cadian 8th...