Well here's the next story within Tales of Heresy. I will be switching up each new chapter between planets. Alternating between Isstvan III and Isstvan V but other than that I have nothing else to say. Enjoy!
The whip tightened around the legionnaire's throat. Barbs digging into the flesh, drawing blood. The warrior clad in power armour of a midnight black struggled, gripping onto the extended whip, tugging in an attempts to pry himself free. Vels licked his lips, an eerie smile forming beneath his helm. Ohhhhhh~ How he loved it when they struggled. ~ The days since the initial massacre had been paradise for him and his brothers. For they got the chance to torment the greatest prey of all. Adeptus Astartes. Space Marines. The Angels of Death as they were called.
Ones who had no fear…or so was said until the Night Lords proved that rumor false. Hunting down the survivors of the ambush had proved that much true. The torture! The terror! Their screams! He relished in each and every moment. The fear and agony powering him even further. Vels allowed his grip on the whip to lax, giving the son of the raven the notion that his actions were successful. The moment he believed himself free, moving to draw his pistol from his hip, Vels fired off three rounds from his boltgun. Two for each kneecap, shattering both completely, and another for his left hand, goring it completely.
The warrior crumpled to the ground with a cry of pure agony. He approached the downed legionary, each step following the tune of his pained voice. Upon closing in he brought his boot down with a hard stomp upon the warrior's breastplate, pinning him. He aimed his weapon right at the center of the marine's battered helm, fingertip pressed against the trigger.
"Go on you traitorous filth!" spat the Raven Guard. "End me!" he yelled in defiance. Vels' smile only grew wider, hidden by the skull etched onto his faceplate. How many times had he heard these words in the last hours? Word choice may have been altered a bit but still the same charge. This wasn't the version he wanted…He wasn't pleading enough yet. "Oh..no.. ..my dear cousin.~" cooed the Night Lord. "I have grander plans for you…As my newest plaything!" Exclaimed Vels in childish glee. Though his expression was hidden; he was quite certain the look on dread on the legionnaire's face was priceless. Ohhhh how he couldn't wait to see it contorted into a sweet mixture of fear and agony.
Excruciating sounds of agony resounded throughout the ruins of the Xenos city. A ragtag band of Salamanders of Salamanders froze. Barely escaping the initial slaughter, the four happened upon each other, and had been close ever since. Their power armor was ravaged by days of conflict. Dented, cracked sporting gashes and cracks. The once vibrant green of the legion slowly faded and dead in color. Seemingly they were speaking to each other within their own vox channel for a few moments, before the lead warrior motioned for them to follow him, leading his comrades towards the source of the sound. The sight which greeted was grisly indeed.
A space marine hung strung up, bound by barbed wire wound to two poles which held him in place. His pale skin was covered in fresh lacerations the blood from the wounds covering his body. There were various patches of flesh missing from him, crude and jagged pieces torn off. His pale skin and raven black hair identified him as one of the Ravenlord's legion.
Brother Kor'shan approached him first, checking him. "Still breathing." Voiced the squad leader over the vox. The warrior stirred, attempting to face his "savior". His face was badly swollen, showing he had been beaten badly during captivity. "T-t-trap..." he murmured and as if on Que the four warriors hear a dark voice resound throughout the minds. +" Ave Dominus Nox" +whispered the voice This single chant sent chills down the spines of the sons of Nocturne.
They readied their bolters, forming up, eyes scanning frantically for any contact. Brother Tyrion was the first to fall. His cry truly alerting them to the impending danger. He had been shot, the bolt round smashing through armor and shattering his spine, immobilizing him. He lay on the ground paralyzed, blood pooling from the impact area. They closed the gap, firing into the direction from which the round was fired. Rounds flying off into the night. He loved it when they struggled. Fighting back like the cornered rats they were. The benevolence of Vulkan's sons knew no bounds, even in the direst of situations. Thus this made them the easiest targets, tied down by their compassion. Another went down, his head exploding into a mass of blood, gore and ceramite. His headless body dropping to the ground. The last two broke off into a run, fleeing deeper into the city. He sent two of his squad to retrieve the downed salamander and broken Raven. He, brother Rathos, and the librarian who delivered their eerie message, would hunt down the final two….
Kors'shan ran, the servos of his armor groaning with each stride he took. He heard brother Pythos release a bloodcurdling scream, paired with the sound of a revving chainblade…. He was truly on his own now. He found his self at a dead end, a mass of rubble blocking the path. He brought his back to the wall, bolter aimed at the path from whence he had just come.
"Ave Dominus Nox" he heard, no longer trapped within the confines of his mind. The speaker was here approaching him. The words lingered around him, as if being carried by the night winds. His fingers twitched against the trigger of his bolter. He heard the loud bark of a bolter followed by sheering pain as he dropped down to one leg, his right kne destroyed by Bolt fire. He fired into the darkness, hoping to hit something. His enhanced hears heard no noise. No sounds of impact. Another round fired, smashing into the joint of his right arm, nearly tearing his forearm from him, if it were not saved by a loose tendril of sinew which hung, causing the limb to hang off him. Kor'shan gritted his teeth, biting back the pain. He refused to give his pursuers what they wanted. The Night Lords fed off fear and he would no longer give it to them. He was a Space Marine. The Emperor's Angel of Death. Fear was a foreign concept to them. He felt yet another mental intrusion. His mind filled with countless images. Warriors being dissected .His still living brothers being cut into as they screamed, struggling against the holds of the men holding them. Countless gruesome scenes forced themselves into his head…Kor'Shun found his self-trembling, not even of his own volition.
Beads of sweat formed on his forehead. His twin hearts beating repeatedly in tantrum, their rhythm slightly faster than normal. It was then as his fear began to take hold of him that he saw it. A skull pattern etched into a helm of a midnight blue hue. The helm had two bat wings attached to it, with the red of the eye lenses piercing through the darkness. He raised his bolter, aiming to gun down the traitor that stood in front of him. Before he could fire, a crimson whip shot out the darkness, gripping the barrel of his weapon and wrenching it free of his grasp. The wielder stepped closer, granting Kor'Shan a better view. His armour was covered by multiple specks of blood. He had kilt, seemingly made of human flesh, hanging from his shoulders like a cape. He stepped closer, and then he heard his voice.
"Oh…how I can't wait to make you scream. ~" said the figure closing in on the broken marine.
END
And thus another loyalist meets his end. Continue to let me know what you all think in the reviews or my inbox...but before we go on..No I do not favor the traitor legions I am a devout fan of the Raven Guard legion..I just find alot of interest in the stories of Isstvan...but alas until we meet again!