This is a brand freakin' new field for me, so deal with it. Or ELSE. Be kind in your reviews ya'll. Special thanks to the writer Alboc, who helped me come up with names for the weapons. N. Kage
Silent like a shadow, the figure dropped out of the pipe to land with a slight thud. Two figures showed up on his infra-red vision like torches, eager to be snuffed out by the telgh'tho, the weapon of those who hunt. His glistening claws slid out of his armored bracelets like well-oiled knives. Running down the corridor, his shadow-suit rippling as it kept him invisible, he closed with the two figures.
Jenks exhaled slowly, blowing out the smoke in rings. He and his buddy, Johnny, had been told by their gang boss, Debaney, to guard this entrance with their lives. Something had been stalking and killing all kinds of folks in the Underhive lately, and Debaney wanted him, or it, dead. A noise, like knives being drawn, came from the corridor behind them. Turning, Jenks saw nothing. Then, something about one-hundred meters down the hall moved, like a big mans shape shimmering in the heat. Then, nothing again. He dropped his iho stick and raised his auto-rifle, covering the corridor. Johnny nodded at him, he had seen it too. The other ganger racked his shotgun and stalked down the corridor, Jenks at his side.
Interest passed through his mind. The prey-beasts had seen him. Running down the center of the corridor, the entity once known on ancient Earth as a Predator, sliced through the mid-sections of the gangers with his claws, disemboweling them instantly, their flak armor no defense against the unnatural metal of the Predators claws. He didn't bother taking a trophy from these two beasts; they didn't even offer mild sport. A strange odor came from beyond, from somewhere beyond the great metal edifice that housed so many of the prey-beasts. That smell was death, the death of millions, even more then the veteran Predator, known to his people as Jarrett, had killed. Whoever exuded that smell would offer him some sport. Jarrett set off, towards where he thought the smell was coming from. It was coming from above.
Inquisitor Thomas Kincade stepped off the shuttle, his long storm-coat billowing out behind from the venting gases. Behind him, his retinue of followers fanned out behind him, taking in the sights of the Main Spire of Hive Barbus. He was there because something had come to the Underhive and was killing the Emperors citizens. Whether it be a daemon, cultists, or something darker, was up to him to find out. Because of the graphic nature of the murders, he had hired on extra guns and brought along something special for emergencies. This thing would not be leaving the hive unless Kincade was dead.
Jarrett fired his jor'enth, translated roughly as Deaths Wave, into the three prey beasts closing with him. The mass of barbed darts thudded into the three humans, killing the front two instantly, the one following was wounded horribly, several darts punching deep into the mans gut, causing him to scream pitifully and loudly.
Aldus clamped his hands on his stomach, the…the… thing they had found had killed his two buddies without a problem, even though they were ex-PDF guardsmen. They had been patrolling a sewer pipe, when footsteps in the water told them that whatever had been killing the Underhivers was there. A cascade of water from a pipe above the thing had shorted out its holo-field or whatever it was using to conceal itself and it was scarier than a spryer from up-hive. Massively armored, with long dreadlock style hair, and an intimidating helmet, the thing made Aldus piss his pants in fear. Hands shaking, he pulled his blood-stained pistol out, and firing at the thing, a lucky bullet causing freakish green blood to leak from a crack in its armor.
The damn prey-beast had shot him! Even though Jarrett could see its life-blood pouring out of it, it had drawn a pistol and shot him. He drew his compact der'a'ta, the long spear expanding out. He closed with the beast, his boots splashing great gouts of water, and plunged the spear into the beast's neck. He extended one claw from his gauntlet and cut off the beast's skull and hung it from a chain attached to the roof. His first trophy from the new prey.
Inquisitor Kincade crouched down in front of the three mutilated bodies. They had been shot dozens of times by razor-edged darts, one of which he played with in his hands. It was perfectly balanced, and made of something he had never seen before. The underhivers had apparently been ex-PDF troopers, but they had been killed also with a struggle being given. He suddenly noticed a green blob in the stagnant sewer water, it looked like glowing blood. Quickly, he carefully scooped the water up into a bag and handed it to his Zenologist. The man could tell from the blood what the damn creature was. Kincade stood up, truly shadows were hunting.