You know how they always say that there is a silent before a storm a great breath before the plunge. Well its true. The light around the solider was dim and heavy with fear, terror, and an acceptance of death. The ship was small and the container he was In was even smaller. The plan was to drop in the middle of the battle field as a small group of crack reinforcements. Who the hell thought this stuff up? As the silence pounded on his head he could hear someone behind him throw up. Then the storm hit. It started with a faint din and then the pilot screamed something about a huge las beam. You couldn't see the giant energy lance of death but more along the lines of feel the heat as it passed by. Then the guns o god the guns the sound of round after round firing into god knows what was enough to destroy a man on the spot. Then the pilot shouted as loud as he could "30 SECONDS" then something about machinegun nests. The sweat on his palms made the gun feel awkward in his hands all a sudden he felt like a target just something for the enemy to shoot at for fun. The ship hit the ground with a bone jarring smash. The door to the compartment opened. And it opened onto a wall of lead. The first row was mowed down riddled with bullet holes before they could take a dying breath. before the rest could be mowed down he grabbed the dead man in front by the belt and shouldered into his back running out into the field of death. bullets continued to hit the body shaking him as blood and chunks of flesh flew from the dead marine showering the ground in a crimson sheet like sprayed on silk. The impacting bullets had a sick rhythm the sound of death seemed so quiet when you hear about it but when you are carrying it on your shoulder its loud like the devil roaring in your ear trying to drag you down trying to pull you down into the eternal fire. But he could not be dragged down. Then he saw what he needed to the inner hate that pushed any man to kill in cold blood the hate that only the chaos seem to have but his was controlled flowed to his killing instinct his eyes felt sharper his hand steadier. And now he felt total self abandonment. Death was not a concern but more living past this battle living for more than war. with a final burst of speed he sent the body onto the muzzle of the chaos heavy bolter whirling around the body with the tip of his rifle he came face to face with evil itself the face seemed twisted. It was a pleasure to pull the trigger. The head sizzled down to a smoking stump on top of a heavily armored body. Right behind the body was another chaos with a sick grin on his face. The new twisted face of evil brought up a pistol to bear. The muzzle looked like a skull screaming in agony. Could skeletons feel? swinging hard he plowed the bayonet on the end of is rifle into the side of the things neck. Only to make it angry. Pulling the rifel out the chaos marine back handed the puny human down. But what the chaos forget is that even the smallest animal can fight back kicking hard the marine planted the heel of his boot into the less protected belly of the beast. Stumbling backwards like a behemoth that just got bit by a tick the marine grabbed his chance. Taking his gun by the barrel he lunged upward smashing it into the chaos un armored chin only to be met with the sound of cracking bone and a spray of blood then with power he did not know he had he spun bringing the but of the gun into the small of the neck sinking deep snapping the foul thing making it crumple and twitch. Where are your dark gods now?
