LITANY VIII
The knife sunk deep into Gloria's abdomen.
She gasped softly and looked down from Lady Morgana's twisted face to where the Lady's hands were beginning to be covered with red. Her blood. Her life force escaping. Her eyes started to close…
"Holy..!" Stormtroopers were right behind Gloria and they crashed into her from behind, inadvertently driving the knife further into the Sister's expiring body.
"It's the Witch, get her!"
Gloria was falling, feeling nothing.
Bolters opened up on Lady Morgana at close range, furious bolts impacting over her body, doing nothing. The Lady laughed at them, a ringing, pitiless laugh and she stepped back into the room between a pair of standing power armour suits. The firing stopped.
"Want these?" she said teasingly.
"Oh, no! Gloria, Gloria!"
"Sister Superior!"
Seven Sisters crowded around their leader, lying on the ground. Rachael shoved her way through to be by her side and lifted her friend's body in her arms. Gloria's eyes were closed as if she were serenely asleep. The knife was still in her stomach and Rachael pulled it free. Blood, for the first time no hers, fell on her face like tears. She looked up at Lady Morgana, an arm draped over a power suit, smiling victoriously.
"Bitch!" Rachael screamed and rushed at the Lady. Then she was flying through the air, face struck numb, and crashed into a wall and slid down unconscious.
"Impotent fools," Lady Morgana chided. "You cannot harm me, none of you. I am not like my husband, a tool to an alien mind. I have full control, choice, to accept the Powers of Chaos into this failing world. The Emperor is dead Sisters, a husk rotted away on Earth who does not care for any of you. Who does not reward. My Masters reward, giving me gifts and power. They are the future and they will rule over mankind. I will be there with them, leading."
The Lady laughed again, tossing her head back.
And that gave Stormtrooper Jenkins his chance. He had been involved in the Eye of Terror campaign assigned to a special Marine contingent. He had seen Chaos Cultists before, and demons. He had seen them kill and he had seen them been killed by the Marines. He had bee next to one Marine in the process of dismembering a man-sized demon with an ornate halberd. He had heard the Marine repeat a Cant over and over again until the demon was destroyed. Jenkins remembered the words of the Cant. The Sister's power sword was on the ground in front of him. The Cultist was distracted by her own arrogance. He leapt to the sword and picked it up and ran at the Lady and with all his strength, the Cant leaping from his mouth, struck down with the power sword as the Lady just reacted.
The sword cleaved halfway down Lady Morgana's head before it was stopped by her hand gripping around the sharp glowing blade. No blood flowed out from the destructive wound. The separated eyes of the Lady burned with malevolence at the brave Stormtrooper.
"Aspiring Knight?" said she.
Jenkins continued to recite the Cant as had the Marine. And press down as hard as he could on her head.
"I will not…" the Witches voice was beginning to fade, weakened by the Stormtrooper's Will and the power of the Cant.
"Keep it up, Jenkins!" the Stormtrooper's comrades shouted. "Kill the Witch!"
Jenkins had no intention of stopping. The Emperor was with him!
So he thought. Lady Morgana had other intentions. Now was not her time to do. With her free hand she grabbed the top of the troublesome soldier's helmet and gripping it, fingers cracking the ballistic material, she tore off his head.
The body collapsed in a head. Lady Morgana tossed the head aside as if it were nothing. Not anymore. She pulled the power sword out from her head and snapped it in two. Her head remained split and she was unsteady on her feet, which the others noticed.
"Fire!"
Hellguns erupted again all aiming at the head. Bolters chattered noisily as well exploding violently all over the Lady's jerking frame. The Sisters recited one of their own Litanies as the fired, praying for their aim to be true and the potency of their weapons increased to strike down the heretic.
The fire had effect. The Lady's body started to disintegrate, blown apart by the withering gale. Blue and pink flame poured out from the wounds until there was more unnatural fire than Lady left.
"She's going to blow."
The Sisters and Stormtroopers dived for cover behind chairs or couches and furniture. The explosion rocked the room, the building, shattering all the glass and vases. A smouldering hole was all that was left of Lady Morgana.
A Stormtrooper stuck his head over the hole. "It goes all the way down," he said. He didn't notice that his face was covered in the same kind of green light that had killed Inquisitor Feordervich.
"Get back!"
But it was too late for the Stormtrooper. A whirling scream of green light solidified rushed up the hole and vapourised the upper half of his body. The legs, neatly severed, remained by the hole undisturbed.
"Suit up!" Sister Verona shouted over the screaming noise. The Sisters ran to their suits. Verona remained with Gloria but her experienced eye saw that there was nothing she could do for Gloria. Tearing away the cloth revealed that the wound was infected already. Nor did Gloria breath. Reluctantly she had to leave her and went to Rachael. She was alive but unconscious. Verona slung her over her shoulder and carried her back to where her suit lay.
The remaining Stormtroopers covered the doorway and windows, taking whatever cover they could. The commander collected hand grenades and putting them in a bag, threw it down the hole. He didn't think it would do any good. The explosion was stifled by the distance and light. The wind had stopped.
The Sisters went through their activation sequences faster than any training drill. The suits enclosed about them, closing airtight. Verona was the last to don her power armour, standing over Rachael.
"Time to get out of here," Verona said, assuming command of the small force. No one disagreed with her and the Stormtrooper commander was more than happy not to have to take responsibility. The Sister picked up Rachael. "Someone get Sister Superior Gloria too."
A step was taken and then the building was shaking again and the howling green light threw up and shattered the ceiling. Debris rained down and they all scattered for cover. Cracks tore the floor open. One Sister and a Stormtrooper slid down in the yawning abyss, screaming as the green light came over them, melting away their flesh.
Everyone else ran or leapt through the windows. Holding onto Rachael tightly Verona kicked a hole through the crumbling wall and shoved herself through. Others followed behind with haste and the room was left empty.
Until through the widened cavern a feathered winged beast rose. Its two bony arms ended with large clawed hands and its head was long and carrion, a bleached beak croaking mocking laughter.
"I shall eat you first, Sister Gloria," the Daemon said in human mimicry. Nails as long as a man's arm flipped over furniture in search of the Sister's body. It was not found. "Where are you? You can't have crawled away. You were dead." The mocking tone was gone. "You didn't fall, I would have gobbled you up if you did. I'll find the one that has taken you."
The blood Gloria had shed lay outside the collapsed floor. No Sister or Stormtrooper had escaped the room by the door.
The Daemon sniffed the air and croaked. It's long head looked at the hole in a wall and what passed as a smile crossed over it. The beady eyes, black, narrowed. The morsels that had gone through the windows would be hunted down and flayed by the horrors that roamed the grounds outside.
"Emperor's Mercy, who could do such a thing?" Sister Emily cried.
Hanging from the ceiling by their tendons and bowels were the stripped bodies of Sister Marie and Helen. An eight-pointed star had been sliced into their foreheads. Between the two hung the Inquisitor's Psyker. He was still alive, barely. A platoon of Stormtrooper heads outlined a pentagram joined by arm and shinbones.
In the middle of the pentagram, covered red by dripping blood, was the Comte. He was naked. His open-chest cadaver held no organs.
"Join me in unending service, Soldiers," the Comte, or rather what he had been turned into by the corrupt forces of Chaos, said.
The Stormtrooper commander stepped out of the small band of survivors that included three Sisters and another trooper. "In the name of the Emperor of Mankind, Supreme Justice above All Else, I judge you and find you guilty of Heresy. The sentence is Death."
The commander raised a bolter and fired a dozen of the high-explosive rounds into his former commander. The cadaver exploded apart leaving just piles of mess in the midst of the greater mess.
"I hope you find some peace in that Hell," the commander said quietly for the soul of the Comte.
"This world needs to be incinerated. That's the only way it can be purified," Sister Verona said.
"And how are we going to do that?" the commander asked.
"The ship, they can bombard us."
No one liked the way she had said 'us', confirming that they had all come to realise: that there was going to be no survival.
"The Inquisitor is the only one who could have ordered Exterminatus, and he is dead. They won't believe us."
"If the see daemons they will."
And at that moment the wall behind them crashed down and through it came the carrion Daemon. It croaked at them and flexed its powerful deadly claws.
"More to add to my collection," it said. "I enjoy carving up the 'faithful'."
The survivors ran. With great strides the Daemon was in the middle and swatted a Sister into the wall. Its other hand picked up a Stormtrooper and the soldier valiantly fired into the Daemon before his head was torn off in the beast's maw and spat back to know Verona down, dropping Rachael who rolled to the taloned feet of the Daemon.
"I will eat her whole and savour the soul for aeons."
"I shall not let you," rang a clear, pure voice from behind the Daemon.
The Daemon turned, as did Verona and the others and there, to their amazement stood Gloria completely unharmed. Her eyes shone.
"Then I will eat you first!" the Daemon growled and drawing in a great breath, expelled it out as sulphurous blue fire.
Gloria did not move. The fire consumed her and from the sight of others she vanished in the shaking flames and they felt dismayed. The Daemon laughed and tossed its head and began to turn back to its waiting meal as the flames died.
But Behold! Gloria stood their still, hair that had once been white now gold and long flowing about a peaceful but firm face, marked with a red fleur-de-lis on one cheek, and in armour as silver as her soul was she clad, rimmed with the finest gold, all except for her corset which was of the brightest scarlet, the same colour of her beauteous mouth. In her hand she held a sword.
"Sacred Martyr!" Sister Verona breathed in awe.
"Faith, Sister," no longer Sister Superior Gloria said. Now she was something more, purer, sanctified. Chosen. As the deathly grip of Chaos had bit into her and the light was fading from her eyes, Gloria's thoughts had only been on her friends and that they might survive. She felt herself giving away, letting go of life as the blood ran from her. Her light and faith was a distant point, shrinking.
'Will you forsake me?' a voice echoing across light years said in her mind. 'Will you forsake your companions and let them fall into darkness?'
'I am dying' she said, 'I cannot do more for them.'
'Then you have sealed their fate and millions more will die because of it.' Gloria was told coldly.
'What can I do to help them? I feel cold and cannot see…'
'Get up.'
"I can't.'
"Remember your Faith, Sister.'
'Mine is broken.'
'That of your friends! That of your Emperor!'
'He will persevere without me.'
'That is the voice of Heresy. Are you not tasked with ridding the Imperium of Heresy?'
'I am dying, I can do no more. I wish I could, but I can't.'
'You can, get up!'
'How? My body is dead.'
'Get up! Rise!'
'Why is the light so strong?'
'Rise, Sister, or be eternally damned!'
'So bright, is this paradise?'
'Rise Martyr! Rise for your Emperor. Rise for me!'
And her eyes opened and she was no longer where she had been. And she felt whole and vigorous. The Emperor's Will burned within her hotter than any fire of man or hell.
The Daemon's flames did not consume her. Her habit was burnt away revealing the shining armour beneath, a radiance matched in her eyes. She pointed her sword at the Daemon that stood thrice her height.
The Daemon swiped its claws at her, catching only air as the Martyr soared into the air, a pair of angelic wings folding out from her back. Velvet scrolls unwound down her bare feet; her skirt rippled. Clarions called forth from the Heavens.
A golden halo burst into existence behind her head.
The last Sisters fell to their knees in reverence.
Flames burst along the length of the blade she held.
Gloria pointed the tip at the Daemon. "Burn in the flames of righteous purity, foul carrion." And the flames raced down the blade and through the air and struck the Daemon.
The Daemon recoiled back, shielding its face with a mighty claw. As the flames poured around it, it began to laugh and withdrew its hand, only slightly singed. "No mortal light can harm me," it said.
"No mortal am I. Have at thee!"
Born on her wings Gloria flew at the Daemon and sliced it with her sword, rose petals drifting in her wake. The Daemon tried to grab the sword but the Holy blade cut through the spawn's hand, severing three talons. The Daemon screeched and retreated and Gloria pursued harrying the tainted monster. It snapped its jaws at her, lashed with the other claw. Gloria deftly avoided the assault and cut the Daemon's stomach. It groaned and drew back on itself and Gloria readied herself for the final stroke that would send the daemon back into the tormented void.
At that moment the coiled Daemon sprang and its strong beak clamped down on Gloria's shoulder and sword arm. Armour dented and buckled under the strain and the Martyr's face twinged with agony. The Daemon's eye, not far from her own burned with laughter and hate.
That eye Gloria plucked out with her other hand and the Daemon screamed terribly, letting go of her. The black orb Gloria crushed, rancid liquid squirting out of the ruptured sight. The Daemon howled and croaked in rage and pain.
"Enemy of Mankind, begone!" Gloria shouted, her voice ringing like a death knell in the Daemon's small ears. The shining woman raised the sword high above her head and with both delicate hands wrapt around the silk corded hilt, she smote down on top the Daemon's skull and split it wide open. Flames leapt from the blade and incinerated the mockery of intelligence.
Wailing its last the Daemon cried for succour from its masters but none came. There was no forgiving Master to save it. The Daemon's own fire consumed it leaving not even ash.
Lightly Gloria landed and the wings folded around her. She knelt down by Rachael's side and lifted the Sister in her kind arms. Rachael's eyes fluttered open. "Are you an angel?" she said, before they closed again.
Gloria cradled Rachael's sleeping body, a tear falling for each Sister that had been lost. Outside the stalking horrors vanished back to Chaos with the destruction of their Lord. Verona and Emily, the only surviving Sisters, fell to their knees before the Living Martyr and clasped their hands in prayer. The Stormtrooper captain barely comprehending what had just happened found a chair to sit in, and against his Doctor's orders, lit up a cigarette.
Marines in silver power armour swept through the Residence like barely remembered dreams.
Rachael woke to overhead lights passing her one after the other. Looking down at her, glowing, was Gloria. She was smiling at her and saying something she could not hear. And there was a Marine with a very thick neck.
Black armoured Stormtoopers with silver eagles circled around the seated commander. "Want a smoke?" he asked them before passing out. They carried him away like a fallen hero.
An elegantly dressed woman with long strawberry gold tresses presented herself to Verona and Emily with a soft cough. A fleur-de-lis was on her cheek. She held an Ikon of the Inquisition. "May I have a word?" she said.
An ordinary looking Gloria sat in a dark office. The only light was a small desk lamp between her and the rather large Grey Knight Chaplain who was seated on the other side of the desk.
The Chaplain smiled at her, which Gloria did not think Marines of any Chapter could do. It was a kind, grandfatherly smile. Studs in the Marine's forehead gave her clue as to his age, more than enough to be her grandfather.
"The tests returned no trace of Chaos taint to you or any of your comrades. You are no longer under quarantine and can travel about the Hammer of Ego," the Grey Knights warship "as you please, according to your security clearance. Of course the Chapel is available for use."
"That is good news, Chaplain."
"Yes something seems to be troubling you?" the Chaplain said, folding his hands.
"Yes. I have dreams."
"Go on,"
"It is the Daemon that I banished, and Lady Morgana's face…"
"She was possessed by the Daemon."
"They call my name and say that they are going to kill me."
The Chaplain laughed, a deep laughter that made Gloria frown. "Do not worry too much, Sister Gloria. Daemons are not permanently destroyed, not as long as there are fools who accept their false lures of power. This Daemon can invade your dreams, we will teach you how to block them or turn them to your advantage. And it is only one."
"One?"
"I have three," the Chaplain said, holding up three meaty fingers.
fin
A/N: A Litany a night to finish GLORIA. Having picked up the GK codex I would like to add a squad of these guys to my Witch Hunters force. I hope you like the story and it's ending. Before anyone goes nuts, Gloria hasn't joined the Grey Knights (was some other story with a femme becoming a Marine), they're all part of another Inquisitor's retinue now. I forgot to write how Rasputin died, he did though, surrounded by horrors while he was gardening.
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