Memoirs Of A Chaos Space Marine

[King Willy]

http://www.bolterandchainsword.com/index.p...=0#entry2214018

 

The DIY Page.

 

Chapter One of unknown story

 

Dust never settles on Millis Prime, this dust-ball rectum of the galaxy sits only a few systems from Draconith, chapter home world of the Star Dragons, This planet isn't even worth spitting on, but the Star Dragons hold this planet above all others they control, it's their one of their finest recruitment planets.

 

Most everyone calls me Brother but my mother called me Julius.

The Chosen have touched down on this planet to prepare for a campaign Lord Mallius has planned, This campaign showed me why the Gods favour him.

 

At this time we are riding in a small freighter 'requisitioned' from a group of traders, their gooey grey-matter now paints a deliciously glorious stain on the wall I lean against, I sit atop their piled corpses the intoxicating smell of fresh blood floods my senses, the only one more enraptured by the scene is the Champion in commander of our squad, Slaanesh gives gifts that turn a beautiful sight into euphoria beyond even the sight of a Daemon Prince as he tears an imperial commander to shreds, tank and all.

 

But I'm off topic now.

 

The ship is only a few meters from the landing point, I don't even need to ask how close we are, with a hundred years of experience in battle you build a sense for things, a battle-brothers posture will change in an instant, and you know, you know, things have begun.

 

I look round at the other five Brothers, each have served for close to three hundred years, each proudly shows the gifts of their glory, the bestial follower of Khorne with an axe for a hand and blood seeping from every crack in his armour, a Nurgle worshipper sits in silent prayer, a stench ungodly grows in power as his profane words of pestilence rise up above the noise of the ship, A Tzeetchian sorcerer stands silent, his armour is ancient and cracked, a strange blue light dancing around his armour as the cracks reform and shift, brief faces form, a look of eternal torment in the split second eyes, I feel the sorcerers gaze shift, even as he continues to face forward, the Slaanesh champion that leads us is by far the most grotesque, his actions during the heresy cover his body, the intricate melding of flesh and armour, the serpentine limbs and waist beguile the strength of a squad of battle brothers, a long disturbingly elegant tongue compliments the twisted horns that grow from his head and the remains of what must have once been his helmet embedded around his head, the vox-grille now fused with his cheeks, split by mutations, while the optics that once lay beneath adamantium shell now pierces his pale olive skin. His entire image odd, feminine and alluring, repulsive and corrupted, but powerful all the same.

 

One other sits across from me, beneath his ancient Mk4 Maximus helmet, I feel a gaze like a lascannon, it bores into me and only when the ship begins to slow does it break, he stands before anyone else and wanders towards the champion, I notice the mark of Khorne that is his shoulder pad, the dark crimson of a hundred bodies worth of blood cover the power fist that hangs heavily from his arm and a chains upon chains of skulls wrap around his body, a mixture of human and xeno, each representing a world he made burn in Khornes name.

 

I see him whisper to the Champion, even with my superhuman hearing I cannot hear, though the champion hears the subvocalized orders.

 

"Arise Brothers, we begin" the champion said as the rear hatch opened out onto the dustbowl that surrounded us.

 

Dust Never Settles on Millis Prime.

[KEEPER]

So far it's pretty interesting. Keep it up, gotta say the Khorne characters seem the most interesting at the moment.

[Terminatorinhell]

I like it, very descriptive and I really wanna read more!

[Dark Apostle Thirst]

Hmm, I like it. It's my type of writing, and people seem to be responding well so far, so I might try something like this.

 

After all, Love and War was an epic fail.

 

 

May your writings attract the attention of the Dark Gods, King Willy.

[King Willy]

Chapter 2

 

The desert is almost as harsh as some of those found on Daemon worlds, though they lack the massive daemonic beasts and mutated animals that can swallow a brother and his squad in one bite. The twin suns ahead of us sink slowly below the horizon, as the shadows of the dunes stretch towards me I see our destination, a small, nondescript building, it's sloping shape jutting out of a sand dune, if one didn't know otherwise they wouldn't notice the rockcrete dune behind it, the light grey covered in a layer of equally grey sand.

 

I think back to my first days in the Black Legion, just prior to the death of Horus, I was a slave then as I am now, though at least then I was eager to please, a century later, this kind of treatment angers me, the lack of respect they show me is unacceptable, I think of all my victories, the thousands of men that I sent screaming into the void, the days I spent summoning daemons, the archeotech I delivered to Abaddon himself, all this is now worth nothing.

 

"Yes" the Tzeethcian Marine, mumbles as he walks through the sand beside me, I would like to say he was not talking to me, but I know the followers of the changer of ways, they a gifted sorcerers, I know he is scanning my mind, hearing all my little complaints, something to do as he scans the area for any traces of hostile intent.

 

Though way out here, walking through one of the most dangerous deserts on the planet, I doubt anybody is alive.

 

"Who's looking after it" The Khornate marine growls, he's talking about me, I want to tear his throat out, "I will" says the nurgle follower, his speech raspy, harsh to the ears, I pick up a low gurgle as well, most likely some disease or equally disgusting fluid sits in his insides.

"Keep it in the entrance, your on the optics, we'll head inside and wait for contacts from the Cults" The Champion hisses through the Vox-Caster, the unnamed Khorne Champion stepping beside him.

 

The small door of the hut appears to be made of simple steel, but this is only a thin layer, as the door slides open I see the creamite underneath, the inside is also quite massive, the initial ramp opens into a large bunker, possibly an old spaceport in times past, I am stopped as I step down the ramp, the adamantium teeth of a chainaxe whirring in front of me, "You stay with Brother Kisa" the Khornate marine barks. Our eyes lock for the first time, I despise him with every inch of my being, a low growl escapes my vox-grille, a large fang ridden smile stretches across his face, "Cute" he says as he turns to walk away.

 

The Nurgle marine grabs me before I can follow, "He'll chop you before you raise a fist" he gurgles. "mount the bolters and listen for my orders" he adds as walks across the room to a small monitor, I follow orders like a good little dog and move to stand behind the Twin linked Heavy Bolter Turret.

 

I'll taste Khornate flesh by the end of the day.

[King Willy]

Chapter 3

 

As I grip the triggers of the Bolters, my hearts quicken, even without the thrill of combat, adrenaline kicks in, I know that brother Kisa can hear me breathing, even his rotting ears pick up the deep breathing through the Vox.

I look at the monitor above the triggers, I see the image of the desert outside, it's sand shifting slowly, I just want to fire of bolts into the sand, watch the small bubbles of yellow burst in the wind.

 

"Kisa, we got help approaching, Miyra and his squad" I hear over the Vox, not sure who is talking.

"Yes, I see them, Opening outer doors" Kisa replies, pressing a few buttons on the keypad and pulling a lever.

 

I pivot the bolters camera to view our allies, they pick up the pace to a slow jog, the robes they wear over their power armour whip out to the side as they run. "As they move closer I can make out their armour. The robes are pale yellow, the colour of the sand, but the armour underneath clashes, a dark blue, almost black but you can see the slight change of colour at the ridges of their armour. I zoom the camera closer and look over the markings quickly, the Eye of Horus, but with the Signature of Mallius, a large stylised M stretching out in place of wings.

 

"Get off the gun" Kisa barks.

I quickly hit the button to disengage the bolter triggers, cutting the camera feed as well.

 

"This is Kisa to Miyra, doors open, we still waiting for Misla but Michan is with the cultists" Kisa coughs into his Vox, a sharp, strangely high pitched voice replies, "Yep we got the call from Misla, they waiting for the Portals to open, teleporting in so they can guide the walkers".

"Tell it to Michan" Kisa gurgled.

 

I sit quite still, I remember when I was in charge like this Michan, it will be the same as before.

 

"Come we done our job" Kisa said, stepping down from the control booth, "Follow and stay close" he orders, I listen.

 

The path deeper into the facility is old, abandoned for hundreds of years, the walls a rusted through in some places, large chunks of sharp black rock juts out of the holes and ground, it's an odd material, I catch a glimpse of swirling, like the inside of the rock is alive, or something is beneath the outer layers, but Kisa trudges on and I must follow.

I also notice the black rock has collapsed most of the side tunnels. As we walk deeper the rock seems to become darker, more purple seeps in from it's edges, I feel a strange attraction towards it, I want to touch it, with my bare hands, not the glove that denies me the pleasure touching would bring.

 

"We are nearly there, keep walking" Kisa whispers over the Vox, Does he also read minds.

[King Willy]

Chapter 4

 

Kisa and I enter in to a large antechamber, different from the rockcrete bunker that was the entrance, this room is huge, able to fit a small squadron of land raiders, maybe a titan if it were to lay down flat, the centre of the room has been dug out into a large amphitheatre, 5 rows of seats circle around the main stage in the middle, the entire thing must be no more then 10 meters across but a good 20 meters down. The stage in the centre is a dark red, clearly blood, in the middle stands gathered squads, my new brothers and the robed guests.

 

As we start down the steps that lead to the stage, one of the robed marines is talking to the Khorne Champion with the chains of skulls, he's shaking his head, turning around and walking on the spot, he's obviously being punished for something. Half-way down I can hear them.

 

"I didn't do it, OK" the robed marine said, "I was just doing what they told me" he added, "And what they told you to do just so happened to lead to your execution" the champion said, "Now tell me who the other one was" he added, his hand touching the activation rune on the wrist of his power fist.

"If I talk, you won't kill me" the robbed one whispered almost a squeak, "I won't" the Champion said, we now step down to the bottom step, Kisa stops, so I do to.

 

"It was Brother Marisal, he told us when Avalis was being deployed, who he was with and that Mallius was not going to be in the Field"

"but the Pale One was with him wasn't he" The champion said, a slight chuckle in his voice, he deactivated the powerfist and crossed his arms.

"Yes, exactly, and that thing killed Marisal, so you see I'm not to blame, he's already dead, and you don't have to kill me" the Robed marine said.

 

Kisa then walked past me, the dragon mouthed bolt pistol in his hand belched fire at the robed marine, who stumbled and fell.

 

I counted eight shots enter the marine and 8 small bursts as his armour was cracked from within.

 

Kisa stood over the body for a second, looking as the marines arms twitched, one final shot going through the chest plastron of the marines armour and a final spurt of blood spat up at Kisa, splattering across his dark green, rusted and pustulent armour.

 

"Now down to business" the Champion said, gathering us all around a small stone table I hadn't noticed before.

 

As I stepped over the dead marines body, I looked at his helmet, the lights of his eyes now dark, and a small smile crossed my face.

I will enjoy being a chosen.

[King Willy]

Chapter 5

 

The plan was a simple one.

 

Using the old tunnels in this bunker we'd sneak into the capital, we would be meters from the governors palace.

We were tasked with aiding a group of cultists with opening a warp portal, one that would allow a the Chosen to deploy right into the heart of the palace, along with a host of daemon spawn.

 

As I said a simple plan.

The Simple ones always go wrong.

 

I noticed it going wrong when we reached the Cultists, three of whom were already flailing about as their sanity was torn apart by the voices of Daemons, I saw one kneel, a smile crossed my lips, he began to tear his robes off and we could see the blue glyphs form across his body, a pulsing glow of daemon fire, I heard the Khornate marine with the Axe for a hand start barking, scrapping his axe across the ground, maniacal laughter echoing through the cavernous chamber.

 

Soon the Glyphs fused on the Cultists chest, I heard a deep otherworldly laughter, it came from every were. The cultist then split in two, floating up off the ground as he did, his rib cage tore out of his chest, limbs began to tear away from his body, long tendrils of flesh, muscle and bone snaked out of the stumps and created a large circular gateway, the arms and legs of the cultist became supports for the gate while the cultists head flailed atop the gate, spitting daemonic curses, his mind stripped bear and replaced by some unfathomable warp entity.

Soon blood poured out of the gateway, creating a puddle around the base, the liquid seeming to reach out at the people in the room, the sweet and familiar copper taste hung heavy in the air now, an unnatural heat building as the smell became more intense.

 

Despite the spectacle, this was not what was intended.

The cultists were supposed to wait for us to give them the orders to begin the rituals, not to mention without the knowledge Champion Michan held the cultists would not be able to open a gate directly to Lord Mallius and the Units that would attack.

"What is the meaning of this" Michan said, his power fist crackling with red energy as he strode over to the leader of the cultists, an elderly looking man, his eyes white with blindness and his hands gnarled and claw tipped.

"The Gods demanded we open now" the old man snarled, his voice sharp and snake-like.

"Well Lord Mallius demanded otherwise" Michan said, the power fist grasping the old man by the arm, a heavy thud could be heard as the a stump dropped from the elbow down.

"This is for your failure" Michan added as he begun to wrap the crackling gauntlet around the leg, it popping of in a torrent of blood.

"This one is for Khrone" he added as the old man dropped to the ground, twitching in pain as Michan lifted the fist high above his head, the weapon came crashing down onto the old mans head, a satisfying pop was drowned out by the loud cracking of rockcrete.

 

"Were is the portal leading to" Michan said, his question aimed at the Tzeentchian Marine.

"It travels through Khornes realm obviously, it opens within the Field, within The Red Mauler" he replied, "But the trip is unreliable, if Khorne wants slaves he will be able to take them", he added turning to face us.

 

"Damn Cultists" Michan said.

[King Willy]

Chapter Six.

 

We stood in front of the gate for what seemed like hours, though my chronometer read only ten minutes, but in that time I was able to put names to faces, Information picked up by a wandering ear.

Kisa was a Brother from the Angels Of Redemption, now on the path of the plague marine. The Khornate Marine was Brother Agamenos, once Lorasia of the Imperial Fists. The Tzeentchian follower was one of the oldest of us, a member of the Thousand Son expelled shortly after the Hersey, The Champion leading us had fought alongside Horus himself before the hersey, he called himself The Cleaver.

 

They looked at me carefully, I could not sit like they do now and pace the room in anticipation, Kisa continues to eye Agamenos, either he's looking out for me, or doesn't want to be between us. The gate continues to spit and curse, the eyes in the cultists head dart around, occasionally spin back into the head, I watch it with a smile, a beautiful edifice of blood and sinew.

I feel the bend in space pull me in, a small ripple passes across the room from the three gates, the others stand up quickly.

 

The familiar silhouette of power armour phases through the blood red gate, droping down into the puddle of blood. They walk by us quickly, off towards the main tunnel, a few nod at the others behind me, I had heard of the dealings among the warband but still knew little about them.

 

The last one through is a scrawny human, I'm about to laugh before the Cleaver steps up to the man, holding out a claw tipped hand.

The man wears old flack armour, I see the black paint chipping off and the bits of human face streatched across the shoulderpads, the bits of both alien and human pinned to his chest, macabre medels of honour, his face is flawless though, almost feminine, to pale and untouched to be a warrior.

I want to cut his face.

 

"It is good to see you Champion Poc" I hear the Cleaver say, It can't be Misla Poc, I think to myself.

"Once more Slaanesh demands we fight, Cleaver" the Champion replies, his voice otherworldly and haunting.

"Were is Champion Frisden?" Poc asks. "He should be here soon, he went out to contact the other squads" Cleaver said.

"Do not worry Poc, I am back" Michan said as he walked out of the darkness of the tunnel behind us.

 

"Ah Michan, You did well, as usual" Poc said, a snakes smile across his face, a blinding white of teeth with an unearthly glow.

"Who else is coming through?, The Pale One or Avalice?" Michan asked calmly.

"We shall see" the snake smile got wider still, his face seemed to be larger then even an orcs now.

[King Willy]

Chapter Seven

 

The attack began at first light the next day.

Explosions rocked the city as the suns rose over the crests of the dunes, a pale pink and orange spread out from behind them. The pillars of smoke that rose from the cities main spires was a signal to the Marines hiding out in the desert. Though I never saw, I still imagine the glorious charge they must have had, a hundred marines charging out of the desert, a wall of shilouttes in front of the sun, behind them a defiler would burst forth from the dunes, a roar and explosion would cause the sand that lay upon it to leap into the air as a battlecannon began it's song of death.

They would charge at the edge of the city, chainswords roaring in unison with the rattling cries of bolters, Havocs standing on the dunes would lay down fire with their autocannons, tearing through building and human with equal ferocity.

I want to be their to taste the righteous, god blessed anger that must have hung heavy in that freezing cold mourning, to hear the crunch of human skull as Marines lept onto the few guardsmen that were on the Eastern wall that mourning, to feel no pain or fear as the lasguns spat harmless heat on my armour.

 

Instead I sit in the filth of the city.

Waiting for our time to strike, my brothers a now ready, Kisa crouched next to me, a pair of filth encrusted claws extended from his arms and pulsed with a faint green glow, strangely comforting in it's rhythm.

"You stay near me and you won't get an axe in the back, we'll talk about how you shall repay me when we finish here.

I nod, I don't trust him, but I know he sees me as useful, and that will stop him from betraying me now.

 

5 minutes.

I know that the attack has broken through, I'm sure the Defiler has entered the city and now tears buildings apart as the marines advance deeper into the city, a gash of black and fire cutting deeper into the white rockcrete of the city.

 

10 minutes.

The Raptors will be attacking from the south now, their faces painted pale white and patterned like a skull, they will screech and cry like beasts in a blood frenzy.

I loathe their freedom as we move closer to our target, I wish to join them up there, darting from building to building, sending any soul unfortunate enough to be caught in my talons to the chaos gods.

I wish to kill one and take his armour.

 

12 minutes.

As planed we arrive at our target, a tiny tunnel beneath one of the bunkers surrounding the governors palace, one of four that would be attacked in the same way, I watch as Agamenos gleefully attaches the melta bomb, he kneels beside one of the marines that came through the portal, pulling a pistol out and twitchly caressing the trigger.

 

12 minutes 30 seconds.

The blast tears out a chunk of the pipe a head of us and we leap out into the bunkers lowest level, a vehicle depot, one of the marines that came through the portal opens up with his meltagun, a wide arching sweep along the upper walkways, bringing them and a number of guardsmen squads crashing down to the floor, he then turns the beam of heat and radiation onto the tanks that sit unattended.

The rest of us charge the squad nearest to us, break off from the gun marines with the bolters.

 

I leap on one of the men, my powersword cleaves him in two with a single upward slash, I practiclly step through his body as it spilts in half, i follow through with a slash across another mans chest, finishing him off by running him through.

As I hold him on my blade I feel the warm blood hit my helmet as he coughs, time stands still all around me, I hear his boiling blood on my blades power field, his whimpers of pain, I see the tear run down his cheek, "Don't cry, Your family will join you" I whisper into his ear, his eyes filled with pain snap shut, I twist the blade and blood spurts out from his chest to cover my armour, I push him down in time to see my brothers at work.

 

Kisa holds two engineers aloft by his claws, maniacal laughter roars forth from his vox, blood raining down from the bodies to coat his armour.

Agamenos seperates the upper torso of two men in a single slash of his massive chain axe hand, his bolt pistol flaring as he fires through the blood filled entrails at a line of guardsmen behind them.

The Tzeenthcian Marine lets loose with bolts of warp energy that tear reality apart as they impact a group of fleeing engineers, their flesh seperating from the muscle which seemed to spread out into the cracks in reality before falling to the ground, large spiked effigies to the chaos gods.

The Cleaver seemed to destroy a squad all by himself, dancing about in a grace only Slaanesh could grant, his blade only clipping the men for a second as he spun and darted around the room, seconds later massive fountains of blood woudl pour forth from necks, stomachs and other vulnerable points, an artists performance to the chaos gods.

Beneath my helmet I smile like I once did as a child.

A smile I would get when I was beating another boy to death.

[DarKnight]

dust-ball rectum, perhaps the greatest phrase in the history of written word

[King Willy]

The censor actually gave me something good :)

[King Willy]

Chapter Eight

 

We leave the Hanger slowly, the bitter, coppery smell of freshly piled corpses filters out behind us as we walk down the corridor. A brother with a flamer walks a head of us, a tongue of flame leaps out down the side corridors, as we walk by we put bolts into the man shaped conflagrations left in his wake.

I look out of one of the veiw-ports at the city below. Pillars of smoke snake up into the air, blocking out the sun, I see the Defiler in the distance, a blossom of fire leaps out at a building, a low rumble passes over me a second later as I watch the spire collapse towards the ground.

Small flashes of bolter fire appear all over the city as the Brothers advance slowly through the city, the guardsmen filtering out of the command complexes courtyard and into the city.

Each one that leaves means one less to defend the Commander, even with the klaxons going insane in our ears I sense the commander sending his bodyguards out to defend the ungrateful masses.

 

I think back over the information on this particular man.

 

Commander Hacatin Von Straslin, Born on Planet Millis Beta, Son of Captain Rasptuin Von Straslin of the Millis 32nd Infantry, Earned his title when he and his Infantry Platoon distracted a small Ork Waaagh long enough for Planetary Governor Regan and an estimated three million civilians to escape the planet, then holding the Capital Hive for three weeks, re consolidating the scattered remains of the PDF and then pushing the Orks back, all the while waiting for a strike force from the Astral Dragons Chapter to reach the system.

Upon their arrival only a measly 142 Orks remained in a single camp that was already being shelled by Hacatins remaining Lemen Russ Squadron and a lone Basilisk.

Let us see him stand for a second without an Army behind him.

 

"He will die soon, calm yourself pup" the Tzeentchian Marine whispers into the Vox as he strides past me, crackling Warp energy leaps off his finger tips, distorting reality as I look into the colours. He points his hand at the large metal door at the end of the hallway. The Colours leap out at the metal, it glows with a white and blue heat before flying back into the large antechamber of the Commanders throne room.

Las fire streaks through the doorway towards us, we return fire with boltguns as we charge out into the ornate throne room.

 

We take cover behind a line of large gold and ivory pillars.

I turn to face Kisa, who stands out in the open, laughing off the las fire. "Is that all the Emperor can bring to bear" he roars. "Watch what my Grandfather brings us" he adds, ripping a small lump of pulsating flesh from his waist and holding it aloft, he whispers something unintelligible, I hear it feint over the voxcaster.

 

Suddenly the edges of the room burst into flame, Green, corrupting fires that burn nothing but give off a heat that reaches into you and makes you feel cold.

I sense that we are all smiling at the thought of what comes next .