Summary/disclaimer: Time for another chapter of Chaotic Comrades. Enjoy the 900-word chapter. I don't own Warhammer; Games worship and a few others do.
The whitish sliver armor of Grissom's chapter started to darken as their blood stained it.
"Hold the line!" One of the marines yelled. Their bolters blasted out at the waves of Orks. "Hold the damned line! Where the hell is our support!?" The Marine yelled before he was sent flying by a rocket.
Grissom cursed and continued to fire his bolter. The gun clicked empty for a moment, then again.
"Damn this!" Grissom cursed as he tossed his rifle at a Ork in front of him. "We need to pull back!" Grissom yelled before drawing his Chainsword from his belt.
Another wave of Orks charged out at Grissom and the line. Grissom had lost count of how many of the creatures had been slain in combat.
"We can't retreat!" Another marine yelled before a massive explosion rocked the battlefield. A huge part of the line went with it.
Grissom and his unit were sent flying backwards despite how strong they were normally. Grissom felt his back smash into a rock before he then slammed into a rock pile. The Space Marine then rolled off the boulders and slammed into the ground hundreds of meters below, barely missing the flaming inferno below.
He slammed into the ground, unmoving. His armor protected him, but the force of the explosion had sent him and his group to the ground hard.
"Stupid Space Marines." One of the Orks stated as the massive wave of green skinned monsters walked away. They knew the marines would die soon, there was almost no way off the planet.
(With Grissom)
Grissom grunted in pain, his body barely moving under his power. Grissom grunted in pain and looked around.
Many of his group laid dead around him. Grissom could hear the hisses of pain of more Imperial Soldiers as they expired.
"Damn it… Damn it all." Grissom muttered and slowly looked to the sky before the voice from before appeared.
"Poor Space Marine… Left to rot as I said." Grissom heard before the voice made itself apparent. "Did you men even question why they were left to die?" Grissom heard before the voice revealed itself.
It was a figure that looked more avian then being, it laid surrounded by monsters of many limbs and rows of teeth… Grissom would come to know it as Tzeentch, the Chaos God of Change.
"Why are you even speaking to me?" Grissom questioned; he was too weakened to draw his weapon… And even if he was? There would be nothing it would do to the being.
"Because unlike your slaughtered brothers, fools as they were?" Tzeentch questioned before shaking his feathered head. "You are smart enough to know that Yaeter is lost to the false emperor… But not to me, and it can also not be for you." Tzeentch said before looking around.
"What are you suggesting?" Grissom questioned as he tried to struggle to his feet. "This planet is lost." Grissom stated before Tzeentch rolled his eyes and tapped the dying space marine.
"I know you, Grissom." Tzeentch stated before fading away. "Claim this planet for me… And I will tell you more then you can imagine… Or die, as a broken failure. I do not care which." Tzeentch stated before Grissom slowly struggled to his feet.
His wounds faded, and his normally silverish white armor started to darken with shades of blue and black. The space Marine looked at his new armor.
Grissom looked at the corpses of his fellow Space Marines and then at the Imperial Guards around him. So many wasted lives.
"If they will not listen to my words?" Grissom asked before grabbing his sword. "Then they will listen to my fury… The emperor left us to die, and they didn't believe me." Grissom hissed and grabbed a bolter from one of his dead brothers.
The reborn marine looked at his fallen brothers. He cared for them, but not his ruler.
The newly christened Chaos Space Marine began to climb up the path. His first order of business would be to avenge his comrades by slaying the Orks… Then he would find the idiotic officer who had ordered he and his men to hold their ground.
"I will not rest until I have my fill of blood." Grissom hissed to himself while ascending the cliff. "And then? Then I'll gather a new Legion willing to do more then simply follow blind loyalty to the emperor." Grissom stated as he continued to climb.
What Grissom didn't know was this would be the start of his climb from lowly Chaos Marine… To Primarch of the Obsidian Stalkers. A band of Chaos Marines who would out plan any who stood in their way.
Grissom continued his climb. Neither the fires below, nor the previous burning of tendons he had felt stopped him.
He wanted the blood of the people who had thrown him and his group to the wind. He would get it, even if he had to kill every Ork in his way.
Author Notes
Phew. Another chapter done! I want to point out that Grissom's hated for the Imperialism will be expanded on soon. Next chapter will be in 2-10 weeks or so. It will show Grissom and the Forces of Chaos fighting to rip through the defenders of the planet. Until then, Lighting Wolf out!
P.S: Next chapter should be 1200 words or so.