...27...
A blinding flash envelopes the acursed traitor, his claws rending the innards of his wayward brother in a shower of red that coats the once marble white and oceanic blue of his war gear.
...28...
He blocks an overhand swing of a chainaxe so fat with gore and ceramite fragments that it is more club than axe before tearing it and the arms that carried it from its wielder, a berzerker from 12th Company the sigil's on his armor say...he buries the broken axe so deep into his throat that its head sits within his chest cavity.
...29...
...30...
...31...
He breaks the first across his knee, the pathetic son of horus cries his father's name as he is torn in half, his traitorous father cannot hear him as he is butchered... The second is killed with little pomp, a quick swipe of his claws ripping his head from his shoulders and launches it into the third traitor with enough speed to knock him on his back. The preening harpy of Fulgrim raises a hand to defend himself as he is torn limb from limb, wailing for mercy that the bastards in orbit denied his brother's and those few others who had been betrayed...
He roared as he tore the bastards helmet off to see-
"Endymion?..."
no...
No...
NO!!!!
He was no Traitor! Endymion Was No Traitor! He had been fighting at his side but a week ago when...when this...the new nails bit into his brain, telling him to plunge his fists into his oath brothers chest and EAT HIS HEARTS- he fought the urge back, his hands trembling in agony and dispair as he cradled the body of Endymion...his eyes locked in the sting of betrayal that cut him to his core.
He roared to the sky, raging at the bastards in high orbit leaving this accursed world to die. His mouth frothed as he screamed his hatred of The Warmaster, The Phoenician, The Pail King, and finally The Red Angel himself for hours...his ravaged agony filled voice carrying on even as the last sounds of Murder died out around him.
Why!?
WhyWhyWhyWhyWhy?!
Did he not serve as his Father asked of him? did he not carve enough of his brain out to make way for his father's weakness? he wept as the nails dug in, the pain was unfathomable as he laid the brother he murdered down, his fingers twitching as he shut his eyes...
The pain...the pain was too much...he reached up, taking an agony filled bundle of cables in each hand before yanking. the pain was indescribable, he almost let go but continued to yank as his body convulsed...he would be free of his fathers curse even if it killed him, part of him wished it would as the first archeo-tech torture device popped from his skull. Searing agony flowed from the slowly closing wound.
With a terrible yank, the rest came free of his gore caked skull. he seized almost immediately, tears of blood running freely as he...he smiled..the pain was gone, but he knew he had done too much damage...he could not see from his left eye and his jaw would not move, infact he could not recall how to move it.
His movement was sluggish, his body slowly losing sensation in his extremities. it was worth it...he was his Father's slave no more. he could die knowing he defied him in his final moments. Thoughts of regret also coursed through what little was left of his brain matter, he lamented that he wasn't stoped sooner. if he had been, than perhaps those he had butchered could have bled the whore-sons further before they spread their insanity to the rest of the Emperor's domain.
But that was not his concern for now. for now, his only concern was slowly loosing enough bodily function to finally Die as his weakling father should have on Nuceria, face down in the mud.
might do more with this if enough people want it. it was more an idea than a proper work.
Omnissiah Guide You In Your Hours of Need.