Tales of the Amber Vipers Chapter 298

Blood led the way, a slick trail smeared on the decking leading him on. Kazao found the spoor two hours into his hunt, two hours of frantically searching through the bowels of the Serpens Rex. Many times he thought he was following a dead end, but when he ran into the trail it was unmistakably human. A Chattel had been ambushed and dragged bodily along, the killer pulling the dead meat along like a predator concealing its kill before eating.

"Kazao to Reddam," the Aberrant called into his vox-bead, "Signs of life detected in sector 34."

"Re… to. Kaz… can… hear you… repea…." The Vox crackled.

"Kazao to Reddam, Kazao to Reddam," he called to no avail.

Kazao cursed fickle fate. He was skirting the very edge of the habitable zone, sections pressurised but lacking power. The intense cold of space pressed into these corners, making ice crust on walls and floors and his skin prickled with an intense chill. There was marginal light and stale air here, but no vox-net. Kazao had not his armour's enhanced comms, only a passable vox-bead and he was out of range of the rest of the squad. A choice confronted him, to go back and call for reinforcements or press on and face the revenant alone. For a Space Marine that wasn't a choice at all, so Kazao pressed on alone.

As he moved down the corridor he wondered what the Chattel had been doing this far from the hubs of activity that the Nest owned. The lives of their mortal servants were of faint interest to the Amber Vipers, turning up with supplies and ready hands when needed, and disappearing from sight when not. This unfortunate may have been performing some thankless chore, or been skiving off work, either way they had been surprised when a blood-crazed mutant came out of the dark, hungry for warm flesh and pulsing blood. They wouldn't have stood a chance.

Kazao reviewed his status. He was alone, in the dark, with a creature that should never have existed. He had no power armour or his customary grenade launcher. He thanked the Emperor that custom demanded a Space Marine be armed at all times, so had a bolt pistol and his Fang knife, that at least should give him an edge. The revenant had Space Marine strength and speed, but Kazao would surely be it's equal and if not the vial of acid in his knife's hilt should put paid to the fiend.

Weapons in hand Kazao advanced, seeing the blood slick disappear into a dark chamber. He edged inside, Transhuman eyes adapting instantly to the flickering light of the few working lumen orbs. What he found gave him pause. A wide arena stretched away, as broad as it was long. Padded mats lay in sections, parted by narrow bands of polished wood. Bookshelves with ancient scrolls lined the wooden walls and racks of swords, spears, throwing stars and short-flails were held within. The floor was not even, separated into multi-level squares of unique height, some a mere step up, others towering over his head. The whole space spoke of fierce duels and intense teaching, a dojo where recruits would be trained in the arts of war, learning the way of the sword, along with other weapons. Kazao could almost see those ancient souls trading blows, as stern-faced tutors watched keenly for flaws. A vision of power and grace in equal measure.

Kazao shook off the imagined scene as he stepped deeper. His breath rasped in his helmet as he followed the blood-slick, boots crunching as he stepped on frozen mats. He led the way with his bolt pistol, knife held in a clenched fist, Transhuman muscle was tough, he would need a strong grip. Silently he inched around a raised platform, listening for the slightest hint of breathing. He was close, so very close, he could sense eyes out there in the dark, a chill shiver running down his spine that spoke to the primordial race-memories of man, when primitives stalked wild animals and were hunted in turn. Like those cave-dwellers Kazao knew he was as much prey as stalker, and tried to convince himself he was not afraid.

Around the corner Kazao found the body laying strewn across the floor. A woman, with her guts opened up. Her chest had been ripped apart, ribs splayed open to reveal a mess of entrails. Transhuman strength had done this, with bare hands the revenant had peeled her open like a ripe fruit, and given the missing organs within it had feasted well. The sight made Kazao cold, not from dismay but with a clenched stomach and itch to the back of the throat that was most unsettling. He had fought and killed many men, but this sight unnerved him for reasons he could not say. It was troubling, and in his moment of distraction he was attacked.

The first he knew was an immense weight slamming into his back. The revenant struck from above, it had been lurking on top of the platform, laying in ambush when it heard him coming. Kazao had no time to curse his carelessness as he was thrown to the floor, hitting chest first as hands raked his shoulders. Sharp claws tipped the fingers and Kazao snarled as they ripped the bindings off his scout-armour, making the back plate flap loose. He tried to fight it off but the creature sat on his back and dug fingers into his plate and heaved, ripping the carapace clean off.

Kazao's armour was violated but the shift in weight was enough for him to buck hard and throw it off. He spun onto his back, squeezing the trigger on his pistol. The round left the barrel in a flash of light and a crack of noise and flew away, but found no target. The revenant had been cast aside by his move and his aim was off, the bolt round blew past its ear, striking a weapon rack and causing it to topple over, showering icy blades everywhere. Desperately Kazao retracked his aim but the fiend was faster. It jerked at him, mouth opening wide as a snake's to reveal sharp incisors. It buried its razor-sharp teeth into Kazao's wrist and blood sprayed everywhere.

"Aargh!" Kazao roared as his fatigues were shredded and his sinews severed. Blood pumped from his veins, to be swallowed down a hungry gullet, but more importantly his pistol fell from lifeless fingers. The revenant held on, gnawing at his flesh, but Kazao's other hand came up, slashing his knife for its neck. The creature jerked aside at the last second but the edge cut a vicious furrow over its neck and forced it off.

Kazao rolled to his feet as he spun to face the fiend. For the first time he got a good look at it, and it was sight of beauty and horror in equal measure. Strong, transhuman limbs, bulked with muscle and a face of perfect angelic grace, that otherwise would have been the subject of sculpture and painting. That perfect countenance was ruined by a mouth of needle-fangs, stained with blood and set in a jaw that stretched too wide. The brow bore a crest of nascent horns, reaching up like a crown and the ears were tufted bowels, like a night-stalker that hunted by echolocation. It was more than a mutant, it was a mockery of the perfection of the Astartes, the last twisted by-blow of the Blood Talons, corrupted by the touch of the Warp.

Kazao's determination to end this travesty tightened and his thumb found the trigger rune of the knife. One thrust to the heart and the creature's life was over, but he needed a clean hit. The revenant hung low to the ground, clawed fingertips pawing at the frozen mats and ready for the final exchange. Kazao waited a heartbeat, then flung himself forward, driving his knife for the centre mass as his thumb pressed down.

What happened next shocked him, the revenant rose to its feet, hands slamming into his wrist and elbow. It blocked his strike a millimetre from its breast, then redirected, sending his knife into the mass of a raised platform. The gas-compression blew, spraying acid into the metal, causing it to corrode in seconds, but that was not what stunned Kazao. The block had been a precision move, one practised by Astartes across the galaxy. Only years of intense training could allow one to act so, but the creature was mere hours old. Could it be that some gene-imprinted memory was impressed on its nerves, was such a thing possible, he never got to find out.

A slam to the flank sent him flying, as a clawed hand racked his neck. Kazao flew away and crashed into a bookshelf, causing scrolls detailing martial skills to shatter. Frozen in vacuum for millennia the parchment was brittle as a reed and shattered as he crashed into the wooden shelves. Kazao's blood flowed down his neck as bits of hardened paper pinged off his helmet, sticking fast to the glassic and blinding him.

Desperately he wrenched off his helmet, revealing his scaled features and short fangs. He expected the revenant to jump him but to his surprise it held back, pawing the ground as he rose to his feet. Unarmed, bleeding and off-balance Kazao set his feet and prepared to fight to the death. His hearts beat fast but steady, his breath was solid and his wrist knitted itself back together, he was ready to beat this abomination to death with his bare hands if he had to.

The Revenant slunk to the side, low and feral but from its mouth breathed a word, "Horussssss."

"You can speak?!" Kazao blinked in shock.

"Horus!" the creature screamed as it launched itself at him.

Kazao had been expecting it but the speed of the assault was unstoppable. Kazao was the strongest and fastest of his squad, it was unarguable, but the fiend was beyond him still. They crashed together and Kazao fell backwards, pinned to the floor by the flailing creature. He punched and he kicked but the fiend didn't seem to notice. It was blind to pain, unable to feel anything but blood-thirst and rage, and in its madness it found strength no Space Marine should know.

Kazao was battered most cruelly, cheekbones breaking, shoulder snapping, ribs crunching in his chest. He had never been struck so, every blow breaking something within him and in seconds he realised he could not beat this revenant. It was strong, it was fast, it was mad and he was not its equal. His arms fell limp as he felt bone and sinew breaking and the fiend reared high, mouth opening to finish what it had started. Faced with the prospect of doom Kazao felt denial rise within him, he was broken, he was bleeding but he would not die like this, he refused to die to this mockery. So Kazao did the only thing he could do, he opened his mouth and went for the throat, sinking his fangs into its neck first.

Sharp fangs found jugular arteries and Kazao's mouth filled with tainted blood. It coated his tongue with hot-iron, it clung to his gums like tar and poured down his throat in a torrent. Blood hit his stomach and exploded into his veins, filling his body with potency he had never dreamt of. Strength coursed through him, knitting his sinews back together and swelling muscle with ungodly might. Life, the hot beating power of raw life poured through Kazao, and he exulted in it. It was like tasting something craved but never articulated, a forgotten flavour remembered only when experienced once more. Throne, it was glorious and he wanted more, no, he needed more.

The Revenant jerked back but Kazao didn't let it go. He flung himself forward, gnashing and tearing at the throat. Blood filled his mouth and he drank deep, letting twin heartbeats spray vitae into his throat from severed jugulars. The need for blood consumed his mind and all thought disappeared into a red mist. He did not notice the revenant's thrashing grow weak, he did not notice it cease to struggle, nor the moment it stop breathing. He could only worry at the neck, till the blood stopped flowing.

"No!" Kazao cried, "More! I need more!" it was no use, the fiend was dead. The last spark of the Blood Talons snuffed out forever. Kazo dropped the body in disgust, feeling the vital rush of life fading from his being. His strength returned to normal and his breath stilled, a feeling of weakness after the heady rush of moments ago, but with the chill came clarity.

Kazao threw himself backwards, horrified at the sight before him. The revenant lay sprawled on the mats, gory as if a wild animal had been harrowing the corpse. Kazao wiped his chin with a gloved hand and felt the blood painting his jaw and chest. Cold horror rushed through him as he realised what he had done, and remembered the heady rush that had filled him as he did it. Filled with dismay Kazao looked upon his handiwork and breathed, "Emperor preserve me…. What am I become?!"