Chapter 2: Terror

'These passages seem a lot more labyrinthine on the way back than when we came in,' complained Brother Eric as the marines made their way down another set of steel steps. 'Are you sure we're going the right way?'

'By the God-Emperor's holy blood,' Bilius cursed. 'Are you challenging my directions, brother?' His voice was thick with frustration as the squad continued on through the blackness.

'No, Brother-Sergeant. But it just seems like we're taking a lot longer than before.'

'Your worries are noted, Brother Eric.'

Silence reigned cold and bitter as the marines trudged on, navigating their way through the dank, shadow-choked corridors. Last in line was Brother Johnathan. Walking backwards, he trusted in his comrades to clear any debris that might obstruct his path. Eerie shadows jumped out at them from the ceiling and from behind rusting pipes and broken doorways.

'It almost seems like we're going deeper into the complex,' Eric grunted.

'I have to agree with Eric,' Paulos moaned. 'You are sure, Brother-Sergeant, that we are not lost?'

'Silence, battle-brothers.' Bilius held up a gauntleted hand. 'We may have company.'

They had reached a darkened intersection. Three other corridors split off into the gloom, each scattered with splintered glass and shards of plas-steel. The windows that ran all along the corridors were smashed, and there wasn't a single door left intact. Beyond the windows the marines could see rooms full of corpses, lit up by the sparking of live electricity leaping from severed wires. Not surprisingly, the ventilation shafts above were all open.

'I don't recognise this place,' Dene grumbled, his voice muffled from within his helmet. Bilius didn't reply. He lifted his bolter towards the left-hand corridor.

'Just the perfect place for an ambush.' The sergeant waved a hand. 'Back, back up the stairs. We stand a better chance in the narrow defile here.'

Following orders with quick reliability, the five marines retreated up the last set of stairs and formed a defensive formation. Then Bilius raised his bolter and fired.

The shot was ear-piercingly loud in the quiet corridors. The sound bounced off the walls and ricocheted back and forth. Nothing. No ambush, no Tyranids lying in wait around the corners. Nothing. Or maybe they hadn't moved.

Bilius stooped and picked up a shard of plas-steel. Weighing it in his hand, he tossed it down in the direction of the left-hand corridor. It crashed to the floor with a loud thud. Nothing happened. He repeated the action with another piece directed at the right-hand corridor. Still nothing.

'Well, looks like we're clear,' Bilius stated. 'I wouldn't mind having a flamer right now.'

'Or a couple of Terminator suits,' joked Dene.

'This is not the time for humour, brother,' Bilius reprimanded. 'Squad Bilius, move out. We'll take the left passage.'

The squad started spreading out as they descended the steps again.

A sudden chill ran up Eric's spine. Something was coming up the passage behind them. Johnathan knew it too and readied his bolter.

'Brother-Sergeant,' he said slowly. 'It…it's…'

His voice was cut off in a strangled gasp and an inhuman shriek tore through the silence.

'What the hell!' Bilius turned and tried to fight his way back up the stairs. But Dene, Paulos and Eric were in the way, their bulky power armour blocking his path. The boltgun of Brother Eric blazed, lighting up the passage and yelling like a mechanical woodpecker.

'What's going on, brother?' The sergeant tried to make himself heard above the din. Momentarily the gunfire died down and Eric cast about for what was left of his foe.

'It got away,' Eric snapped. He picked up a heavy, rounded object and started back in disgust.

'What is it, Eric?' Paulos said anxiously, hefting his own bolter. The other marines crowded closer.

Eric turned around and revealed the helmeted head of Brother Johnathan. Jagged claws had severed it clean off. The eyepieces had been smashed to expose his eyes. The look in them was one of pure terror.

His lifeless body lay uselessly on the floor, in a spreading crimson pool. There was no sign of the Hormagaunt.

'Damn the Tyranids!' Bilius was furious. 'Another good man lost to these vile spawn! By the God-Emperor, this place will be utterly destroyed.'

'That it will be,' agreed Paulos.

'Be on full alert brothers,' Bilius warned. 'Where before it wasn't necessary to kill all xenos as long as we acquired information, I now order all hostiles exterminated with extreme prejudice.'

'With pleasure, Brother-Sergeant,' Brother Eric spat.