Post by Rolling Thunder on Sept 6, 2011 0:08:14 GMT -5
A crash broke the morning silence, the sound of a high explosive charge punching half a tonne of armoured door from it's adamant hinges, the strangled death-cry of the joygirl behind it lost amidst chemical fury. Through the smoke and red mist, two carapace-armoured figures came, long-muzzled death sweeping the darkness for any hint of resistance. An autopistol strobed in the murk, soft-nosed ball ammo carving it's signature across the walls before a single, final noise, half cold sabre-steel against flint, half the organic sound of a human body being shredded into unrecognisable pulp, and ended it.
War chuckled from behind his brazen mask, the scimitars delineating metallic cheeks, blood-red lenses for eyes and the fangs torn from an ancient monster, a gleeful, too-human sound from so unholy a feature.
"You need to lay off the 'Slaught" says his companion, surveying the mess of the slaughtered ganger and the crushed joygirl, her blood sticking to the soles of his boots even as he gestured to the remaining gangers to line themselves against the wall. "It makes you enjoy this waaayy too much."
"Can it, Chaos" rasped War, head cocked to make it clear to the terrified, near-naked joygirls (and boys) that yes, this monster was leering at you, and Emperor help you if he got off his leash. "I enjoy this. The drugs just make it better."
Chaos sighed, the ever-swirling, dark fabric swathing his features in a blackened flux, night and twilight warping and twisting itself in inscrutable fashion.
"If you insist, War" he said. "Come on you tossers, do not make me go in there and get you!" he said, yelling into the wide, open spaces of the joyhouse as the regular Arbites swept past, sweeping the corridors and balustrades for anyone stupid enough to hide, even as Death swept in, the trained shadow of his robe trailing a footfall behind him, the sheer, sharp and perfect skull etched into the blackness of his face.
"All accounted for, Death" said War, nodding his head in deference to his master, as the Arbites filed away to their Rhinos. "Six gangers, minus one, and eighteen joygirls, minus one again."
"One agai...ah" whispered Death, noting the freshly-pulped morass that oozed beneath the armoured door, pallid, death-white arm protruding from the otherwise unrecognisable mess that had once been a rather expensive hooker. "Elegantly done."
"Why, thank you" said War. Chaos merely nodded, hellgun trained on the cowering suspects as Death strode across to them, ivory hands empty as he knelt before the leader, a swarthy, heavyset man approaching middle age, hopped up on bluster and mad, desperate bravado as he stared into Death's inky eyes.
"So... Dalirv. We have to have this little chat again" whispered Death, soft and cold as the mechanical "click" of a hammer being cocked.
"I don't know...don't know what you mean" said Dalirv, swallowing down the choking grip of terror that pinched his throat so tightly it ached just to breathe. "I told you what you wanted. I told you where to find the ps-"
"What you told me, Dalirv, was where the psykers were being held. I asked, Dalirv, where they are being held - and indeed, where they are going to be held. Information, Dalirv" said Death, tones hard as the point of a bullet, "that is relevant to finding them, preferably before they are shipped off-world and I have to waste many, many years of my life chasing them around this subsector. Information, Dalirv" continued Death, lightly gripping the man's fleshy cheek in a gentle, icy touch, "that gives me a reason not to wipe you and your little operation here from the face of the earth."
"I-I told you" whimpered Dalirv, as his eyes filled with liquid desperation. "I told you where they were. I don't know- I don't know anything else!"
Death paused for a moment, as if contemplative.
"Very well then" he said, nodding.
It was at that moment that the dawn raid turned to a charnel house. In a slow, easy manner, War shouldered his shotgun, reaching to his thigh to draw out a long, heavy-bladed falchion, and stepped forward.
The first blow landed on the joygirl's back, cleaving a deep, longitudanal slice into her flesh, rib bone white and stark against the bloody tissue. The second blow knocked her to her knees, her howling, rending screams of pain filling the room in secondhand agony, clawing in the walls in a futile, desperate attempt to live, to escape, to break away from this crushing, life-ending suffering crashing down upon her body, hacking open vast, hideous wounds and pouring out her blood to soak the luxuriant carpet, as War systematically butchered her. Eventually, the screaming died away, replaced for only a moment by a grotesque, soft, fleshy gurgle of an opened-up windpipe, before she finally expired.
War stepped back, bloody to the elbows and flushed with his kill-pleasure, and Death turned back to Dalirv, cold black orbs meeting ones so bloodshot in terror they were little more than an animal caught in a trap.
"So...you were saying you had no idea where they might be?"
"I......I do...please" begged Dalirv, sobbing as he grovelled at Death's feet. "Please....I only know they...they sometimes would meet at an abandoned warehouse block, CC-17-9722....please, dear God-Emperor don't-"
"Can it" snorted Chaos, even as Death stood and gestured for them to leave. "We'll be back if this doesn't turn up anything. Don't even think about running" he finished, as he turned to catch War and Death as they ran for the Valkyrie.
"Go go go go!" screamed Death into his comm-set. "Warehouse block CC-17-9722, and by the Emperor hurry, they may still be alive!" he said, desperation ringing in his voice as he dashed up the rear ramp. "We've got to stop those bastards before they escape again!"
War chuckled from behind his brazen mask, the scimitars delineating metallic cheeks, blood-red lenses for eyes and the fangs torn from an ancient monster, a gleeful, too-human sound from so unholy a feature.
"You need to lay off the 'Slaught" says his companion, surveying the mess of the slaughtered ganger and the crushed joygirl, her blood sticking to the soles of his boots even as he gestured to the remaining gangers to line themselves against the wall. "It makes you enjoy this waaayy too much."
"Can it, Chaos" rasped War, head cocked to make it clear to the terrified, near-naked joygirls (and boys) that yes, this monster was leering at you, and Emperor help you if he got off his leash. "I enjoy this. The drugs just make it better."
Chaos sighed, the ever-swirling, dark fabric swathing his features in a blackened flux, night and twilight warping and twisting itself in inscrutable fashion.
"If you insist, War" he said. "Come on you tossers, do not make me go in there and get you!" he said, yelling into the wide, open spaces of the joyhouse as the regular Arbites swept past, sweeping the corridors and balustrades for anyone stupid enough to hide, even as Death swept in, the trained shadow of his robe trailing a footfall behind him, the sheer, sharp and perfect skull etched into the blackness of his face.
"All accounted for, Death" said War, nodding his head in deference to his master, as the Arbites filed away to their Rhinos. "Six gangers, minus one, and eighteen joygirls, minus one again."
"One agai...ah" whispered Death, noting the freshly-pulped morass that oozed beneath the armoured door, pallid, death-white arm protruding from the otherwise unrecognisable mess that had once been a rather expensive hooker. "Elegantly done."
"Why, thank you" said War. Chaos merely nodded, hellgun trained on the cowering suspects as Death strode across to them, ivory hands empty as he knelt before the leader, a swarthy, heavyset man approaching middle age, hopped up on bluster and mad, desperate bravado as he stared into Death's inky eyes.
"So... Dalirv. We have to have this little chat again" whispered Death, soft and cold as the mechanical "click" of a hammer being cocked.
"I don't know...don't know what you mean" said Dalirv, swallowing down the choking grip of terror that pinched his throat so tightly it ached just to breathe. "I told you what you wanted. I told you where to find the ps-"
"What you told me, Dalirv, was where the psykers were being held. I asked, Dalirv, where they are being held - and indeed, where they are going to be held. Information, Dalirv" said Death, tones hard as the point of a bullet, "that is relevant to finding them, preferably before they are shipped off-world and I have to waste many, many years of my life chasing them around this subsector. Information, Dalirv" continued Death, lightly gripping the man's fleshy cheek in a gentle, icy touch, "that gives me a reason not to wipe you and your little operation here from the face of the earth."
"I-I told you" whimpered Dalirv, as his eyes filled with liquid desperation. "I told you where they were. I don't know- I don't know anything else!"
Death paused for a moment, as if contemplative.
"Very well then" he said, nodding.
It was at that moment that the dawn raid turned to a charnel house. In a slow, easy manner, War shouldered his shotgun, reaching to his thigh to draw out a long, heavy-bladed falchion, and stepped forward.
The first blow landed on the joygirl's back, cleaving a deep, longitudanal slice into her flesh, rib bone white and stark against the bloody tissue. The second blow knocked her to her knees, her howling, rending screams of pain filling the room in secondhand agony, clawing in the walls in a futile, desperate attempt to live, to escape, to break away from this crushing, life-ending suffering crashing down upon her body, hacking open vast, hideous wounds and pouring out her blood to soak the luxuriant carpet, as War systematically butchered her. Eventually, the screaming died away, replaced for only a moment by a grotesque, soft, fleshy gurgle of an opened-up windpipe, before she finally expired.
War stepped back, bloody to the elbows and flushed with his kill-pleasure, and Death turned back to Dalirv, cold black orbs meeting ones so bloodshot in terror they were little more than an animal caught in a trap.
"So...you were saying you had no idea where they might be?"
"I......I do...please" begged Dalirv, sobbing as he grovelled at Death's feet. "Please....I only know they...they sometimes would meet at an abandoned warehouse block, CC-17-9722....please, dear God-Emperor don't-"
"Can it" snorted Chaos, even as Death stood and gestured for them to leave. "We'll be back if this doesn't turn up anything. Don't even think about running" he finished, as he turned to catch War and Death as they ran for the Valkyrie.
"Go go go go!" screamed Death into his comm-set. "Warehouse block CC-17-9722, and by the Emperor hurry, they may still be alive!" he said, desperation ringing in his voice as he dashed up the rear ramp. "We've got to stop those bastards before they escape again!"