The Dark Crusade
Disclaimer: I own nothing!
Planet Cyrus, for two month it bared the burden of the 13th Dark Crusade. The forces of chaos descended upon the small world without mercy. They arrived on their ancient ships, able to fly only though the dark energies of Chaos. What attracted them to this world is questionable; perhaps the blood of 13 million citizens' which colonized the planet was too tempting to turn away. Within 1 week, the planetary defense failed under the might of the enemy. Cadian 122nd stationed on the surface had failed to hold 3 out of 4 major space port. In the next month, a massacre followed, 39 of entire population was destroyed and over a quarter of guardsmen succumbed to madness. In a last ditch effort to starve Chaos of its victory, the entire population was evacuated to fortress "Vires Parietis"
An attachment of 8th Cadian for their experienced with the Thirteenth Black Crusade was called into action; they are to lend support to the flailing guardsmen in the final defense. Should the blockade be breached, blood would consume the entire planet.
Day 49;
The sound of the artillery beat a steady rhythm in the background. The troops have became so familiar with the sound they would tell each individual machine apart.
General Stubbs strolled through the underground bunker; dust would rain from the ceiling with each artillery shell. The casualties of the war are mounting each day, so rapidly in fact, that the medical wing have reported full capacity, so the wounded were lined in hallways and walk path.
Stubbed looked at the men as he passed, most are unconscious with wounds that would claim their life.
Sergeant Williams hurried alongside Stubbs, his nose twitched at the smell of blood.
"Battle report sir," he grasped between heavy breathing. "We have lost another chokepoint. There… there is nothing holding the chaos forces back."
"Casualties?" Stubbs asked. He was not afraid of the enemy, when the time comes he will face the foes of the emperor and he will stand proud.
"99 percent sir, there is only 2 survivors."
Stubbs stopped in his path, "Take me to them."
Stubbs stood outside the medical facility, the stench of decay and death lingered in the air, the once white walls now enclosed with blood which cascaded down to create a paddle on the floor. The sight made the imperial bunker look like a torture chamber
Surgeons can be seen digging shrapnel out of screaming guardsmen, their arms and legs thrashing wildly in air. Morphine supplie had long ran dry.
The medical officer scanned through his notes, his fingers flicking through hundreds of pages.
"#129,594 and # 134,958" he muttered under his breath. "Here we are, they are in the temporary cell, and reports confirmed they have sustained fatal injury to 89 percent of their bodies. They won't survive the night."
"I need to speak to them." Stubbs demanded.
"Very well, follow me general."
Stubbs followed the doctor to a small room; inside he could near machines helping the soldiers' with inhalation. A nurse stood between several patients, she was extracting the blood from the dead, to refill the bodies of the wounded.
As Stubbs entered, the nurse gave him a quick salute before hurrying out of the door.
"Private Jonson, can you hear my solider." Stubbs asked a pale man lying in front of him. His injuries were indeed horrendous. His skins are boiled and puss oozed from wounds, a classic symptom of severe burn. His left cheek had lost so much flesh that his lower chew bones threaten to fall off any moment. A deep gash descended from his chest down, cutting through ribs and splitting open stomach. It was by pure luck that the wound missed all his vital organs.
The young man looked up, and tried to speak, but only a mummer came out.
"What did you see, how big were the chaos forces, tell me." Stubbs pressed on.
The young solider slowly lifted his right hand, of which all fingers were missing. With his bloody stump, the solider began to draw on the walls in his own blood.
With his last strength, the young man looked at the general with tear filled eyes before passing away.
General Stubbs looked at the drawing, trying to make most sense out of it. A large figure was in the center of the picture, a long stick emerged from his left hand, a sword perhaps? Behind him, large blot of blood, with what looked like wings behind them.
A daemon? Stubbs thought, however the blood is slowly trickling down the walls making the painting loose all meaning.
"The second survivor?" Stubbs asked the medic.
"Already passed away, only 15 minutes ago, his injuries were most horrifying, the chaos tried to skin him alive. His upper bloody was cut and skins pulled from his face down to the waist."
Stubbs re-emerged from the bunker; another officer handed him some notes. The 8th Cadian had just arrived on the planet as support. They have landed 150KM south of the initial target, for them to reach Stubbs's fortification; it would take a few good days of trek through the thick forest. Meanwhile, dark shadows loomed in the horizon. Chaos is coming.