Disclaimer I don't own Warhammer 40k. Warhammer 40k belongs to Games Workshop.

I opened my eyes just to be greeted by the same place I had seen the last time I had been out.

And yep, there he was daemon me.

''So.'' He said ''how do you feel? Scared or maybe frustrated?''

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes to get calm. ''Deep inside me there is the desire to close my hands around your neck and choke you to death. Nice. And. Slow.''

He nodded. ''Honestly, I can't blame you if I could I would kill me too but here we are.'' We both were silent.

''So...'' I tried to keep the conversation going. ''Am I, ore better we dead? I mean I am pretty sure that we got killed by those guardsmen.''

He nodded. ''Well, that is a possibility but I'm sure that this isn't the case. I mean if you were dead than I'm sure that at least I would know.''

''I hope that we are dead. Because if we are not, we will be soon. As soon as the rest of the soldiers find me, they will shoot me. And do you know why? Because I look exactly like you.''

He nodded ''Yess. That is indeed a problem. Alright I think it is time to wake up for you now have fun!'' He waved goodbye.

''HEY wait we are not done here asshole! what do you mean change appearance?!'' I tried to reach him bit before that everything turned white again and I opened my eyes.

Pain. Lots of pain.

That was what I felt. And a lot of it on top. But I also was a bit confused after all if you are surrounded by a bunch of people who all want you dead then the last thing you would expect to happen is that everything comes crashing down on you.

I mean literally. right now, I was buried under a lot of rubble. And I was pissed. First, I survive a massive suicidal charge of brainfucked idiots, then the general, his whole stuff and the soldiers I SAVED try to kill me. And right then when I actually accept my death and being at peace with this sick world I get buried under a giant bunch of concrete.

So here I was, lying on the ground. Covered in dirt, dust, and the gory remains of Bratar who was unlucky enough to be crushed right behind me. My outfit was also not in the best condition one glass of my gas mask was cracked and my coat was torn.

But my biggest problem was that a very heavy piece of concrete was laying on my chest and the only thing that prevented it from turning me into paste was my chest plate.

I grabbed the piece and began to push with all my straight and slowly the concrete moved. After that I just laid there out of breath. I really had to solve the problem with my aperiance and that fast.

But what now I was trapped under maybe tons of concrete and steel. I sighed, quite ironic, isn't it? I survived this whole shit and now was trapped again. Ciaphas Cain would be proud.

While I was lying there, I began to hear something. It was, I don't know sniffing, scratching and then barking and voices.

''The dog found something! Come on and help me here!''

Joren! For fucks sake I swear I never had been happier to hear the voice of the young PDF soldier. But my fear returned quickly if they would see me, they would most likely kill me after all my mask and coat were damaged and wouldn't be able to hide my features.

But then I had I idea but it wasn't a good one. I took one of my cloves of and put it between my teeth. Then I unsheathed my power sword and took a deep breath. Then I activated the blade and went to work.

Joren stood on the pile of rubble that once was the command center. The dog was by his side and after some time they had finally found a trace. Now they were digging. The situation was bad the only thing he got to see was the rocket roaring above his head and ramming directly into the command center. The front was holding, but for how long.

They hoped to find at least one person of the command and now they had a lead. After something that felt like hours the last rubble was put aside and made way to a small cavity.

But nobody was prepared for what came next.

A blood covered hand reached out of the hole and quickly the rest of the person followed.

Joren had once heard stories about commissars from his drill sergeant. How they stood there right behind you pistol in one hand and sword in the other often being more terrifying than the actual enemy. First after seeing Steger the first commissar, he had actually seen he was sceptic aside from his mask and weird cap he just seemed so normal.

But now his opinion had changed because the thing. No, the person that stood in front of him was just as terrifying as he had imagined a commissar by his former sergeants' stories.

Commissar Steger was covered in blood it seemed to flow out of two wounds left and right of his head and also from under his coat. A cracked glass of the gasmask showed a light violet eye staring right into his sole.

''PDF soldier Joren.'' His voice sent chills down his spine and even the dog began to whimper. ''What the fuck happened and what is the current situation. I want answers. Now.''

Joren swalloed. ''Yes sir.''

Well ladies and gentlemen,

that was my eight chapter of ''Stuck in Warhammer'' I hope you liked it, and again if you found any mistakes please point them out and I will see if and how I can correct them in future chapters. I am also sorry that this took me so long.

Farewell Dealer Van Wolfenstein