Shades of Night - Part 3

An ash-laden wind howled through desolate and debris-choked passageways of the abandoned Imperial outpost in response to the roar of weapons fire and unbridled bloodshed taking place within the long neglected military structures. The ominous sound heralded the arrival of terror and mayhem on this world. Not even the destruction of the Imperium’s traitorous enemies would allow for peace to ever return. The taint of Chaos had gripped the planet and it would not be denied.

It was that sweet sound which broke the reverie of Furnex as he lay stunned on his back. Quickly collecting his thoughts and focusing on the present, he recalled the reason for his prone position. A pair of Ultramarines had rushed the rooftop position of his Havoc squad and systemically reduced his squadmates to charred chunks of roasted meat and scorched metal. Furnex himself had sustained a number of bolter hits to the chest and had been knocked down, awaiting the inevitable shot that would terminate his existence. The optical display in his helmet was having difficulty assessing the remaining integrity of his armour, however extensive the damage was, it was severe indeed.

The keen sound of tearing metal and a muffled gurgle emitted from a blood drowned throat could just be heard by Furnex’s superhuman ears above the tumultuous wind rampaging around him. Slowly lifting his helmeted head, the torn remains of a decorative crimson wing dangling dangerously on a broken pinion only to be snatched away by a passing gust, he attempted to locate the source of the sound. Tendrils of ash cloyed around the torn rents in his armour and foul-looking smoked rose lazily from deep within his chest. His entire unmoving form was covered in the dark oily sheen of ash. Looking past his own broken body, Furnex’s eyes focused upon the dark figures standing before him.

Five points of razor edged metal glistened wetly with a thick gloss of vermillion. Visible sparks of electrical current ran the length of them, causing the spilled blood to sizzle and pop. The energized fingers jutted out from the fractured image of the Imperial Aquila, the twin-headed eagle no longer gold but stained red from the blood seeping out a multitude of fissures.

Struggling vainly and impaled upon five sword-like fingers, was one of Furnex’s Ultramarine assailants. The marine’s bolter had clattered to the ground from nerveless fingers and he was failing his arms ineffectually in an attempt to be free of the talons’ murderous grip. Standing behind the loyalist was Morax, Aspiring-Champion and Chosen of Chaos, a contemptuous sneer etched on his hateful features. The champion’s eyes narrowed fractionally as he ground together the talons of his lightning claw, pulverizing bones and organs with ease. Becoming bored with this sport, Morax brought his fist together in a swift crushing motion and the Ultramarine’s body collapsed to the ground in six burning segments of unrecognizable offal.

Slightly behind Morax, the other Chosen had assembled around the lone Ultramarine who now brandished a flamer. The blue-armoured figure looked diminutive surrounded by the ring of towering Terminators. There would be no escape, for they formed a living wall of metal and hate. Their millennia old armour was encrusted with cruel spikes and blades, evil looking sigils daubed upon their protective hides squirmed and twisted in anticipation for the violence to come.  Power fists crackled with malign energies and energy weapons glowed with deadly intent. Unlike their leader who had grown bored of the Ultramarines, his followers were not going to rush their entertainment. So rarely could they release their fury upon the servants of the false-emperor, they would take their time and savour the agony like the finest of wines.

Furnex saw the briefest flicker of orange light as the Terminators closed in on their prey. Unperturbed by the licking flames of burning promethium, the hulking warriors set to their grizzly task with relish. Feeling the ground shudder beneath him, Furnex’s attention snapped back to the terrible Chosen before him, watching the Terminator clip his combi-bolter to his belt as he approached. Quick and purposeful strides brought Morax’s armour-shod feet within an inch of stepping on his fellow Night Lord. Furnex stared a challenge into the endlessly dark eyes of the Chosen, upon doing so a rare smile formed on the mighty warrior’s scarred lips as he found the futile act of defiance humorous.

Without warning the Chosen’s gauntleted hand shot forward. Taken aback, but gratefully for the assistance, Furnex eased himself forward to grab hold of the outstretched hand. A powerful grip grasped his forearm and he started to feel himself lifted up. Suddenly his course reversed and he was slammed into the ground so hard that cracks erupted all over his armour from the impact. Bones that had begun to re-knit due to his superhuman constitution broke again. A tormented snarl exploded from his mouth and he gasped in ragged breaths as his internal organs suffered catastrophic damage from multiple contusions and bone-fragment punctures. Beyond him, as if in answer to his own, another strangled cry of pain rent the newfound silence on the rooftop. His mind weakly registering that the last Ultramarine was still suffering the indelicate ministrations of the elite warriors.

“Pathetic!” the insult was hurled as is fired from a bolter. It was promptly accompanied by a gobbet of acid saliva, which began burning idly through Furnex’s breastplate. With his mind whirling in hate and anguish, he did not even register the pain of its acidic kiss on the flesh beneath. The sheer fact that Furnex was still alive was a testament to the incredible endurance of his body and the power of Chaos flowing through the Chaos Marine’s veins. As if the strength of a Chaos Marine was not enough, the exo-skeleton inside of a suit of Terminator armour would have increased the Aspiring-Champion’s strength ten-fold. The force behind the push had been unbelievable and Furnex was surprised that he had not been liquefied inside his armour by the jarring blow.

“Worthless cur! Disgrace to the eight-pointed star!” the torrent of disparaging remarks continued unabated. The sound of snapping cartilage, bone and metal was audible to all on the roof as the Aspiring-Champions brought his monstrous armoured foot down upon the stricken Night Lord’s right leg. “I knew you would fail! The simplest of tasks are beyond your abilities once again!” The terminator deftly brought his foot down again, this time on his victim’s left leg. “I knew that your spinelessness and imprudence would be your demise on this mission!” it was becoming difficult for Furnex to hear the Terminator’s outrage as a dark fog of pain settled over his senses. Furnex vaguely felt the sticky wetness of blood seep into the back of his armour from the bloody pool surrounding the wreckage of his legs.

Leaning in as close as his bulky armour would allow, Morax hissed into the face of Furnex. “You were to take out those damned loyalists vehicles, not engaged some pup of a scout in target practice.” The Terminator gripped Furnex’s helmeted head savagely. “I do not believe I recall the order being given to surrender!” Morax was trembling with fury. “That is the only explanation for you being overcome by a pair of inept Ultramarines! You are now relieved of your command!” Pain blossomed in Furnex’s neck and he knew no more.

With a quick flick of his wrist Morax disdainfully tossed the helmet of the former Havoc champion over the lip of the roof where it plummeted towards the swirling melee below. A thick arcing trail of blood pursued the piece of ruined headgear, indicating the owner’s head was still inside.

Turning sharply, the aspiring-champion faced his loyal Chosen and addressed them. “Glory shall only be for the worthy this day.” Morax nodded appreciatively as he noted the new pieces of blue armour adorning the trophy racks of his comrades. “True warriors of Chaos! Advance and slaughter!” As one the Terminators turned and began their descent to the battlefield below.

There would be plenty of glory for all this coming day and many souls will be sent screaming into in the Immaterium to suffer the eternal embrace of Chaos. Having already forgotten about the incident on the rooftop, Morax fell in line behind his warriors and trudged down the ramp in quiet contemplation. The heavy footfalls of the Terminators resounding loudly over the din of battle. With each step the loyalist warriors of the Imperium knew their doom was approaching.