Relics - A Malum Vigilia Short Story - Chapter 1

[FattyLumpkin]

Chapter 1

 

Eli saw the blood in the streets moving. It had been getting stronger. When he first entered the district, the pools around the victims lay still.  But as he walked further he noticed strange patterns—much of it had long since dried, but in odd tapering channels that all pointed the same way. The further he went, the more bodies he saw, and the thicker these channels became. Some had come together, forming a stronger, less resistant path. With the added mass of blood, Eli could now see the edges of these puddles still wet—and extending, glinting against the world's strange, purple moonlight. It rolled forward as though pressed from a vein, bubbling over itself in a fading, coagulating trail.  Contempt bolstered Eli's spirit.  Sorcery.  Foul magics of the great enemy.  Curiosity as to the intentions of the servants of Chaos was pointless, and laid one's mind bare for corruption.  He cut short any such considerations.  

 

The killing began three days ago.  It started in [the cathedral], [hive city]'s most sacred and valuable treasure.  At the peak of service, with millions of citizens inside and surrounding the chapel, the holy men and women of the Emperor unleashed a slaughter.  Those that escaped with their lives told of horned heads, hoofed legs and forked tongues amongst the murderous.  As the local military mounted a response, more dutiful servants of the imperium became seemingly afflicted, and engaged in the slaughter of those around them.  Once it was established that the effect was spreading, the hive quarantined the entire district.  Billions of souls, locked in, alone with the monsters.

 

As Eli made his way through a cramped alley he could not see or hear the rest of his cell, but he knew they were there. They moved in a staggered approach to the cathedral, each soldier entrusted to keep his presence concealed. The Vigilia were all supremely practiced in the business of staying alive, and were chosen for that reason. As he walked, wind rushing through broken windows of the shattered district drowned out the sound of his footsteps.  Great shadows cast by stacked layers of modest households cloaked him in darkness.  A series of quiet clicks echoed through his vox—a minute-to-minute check-in from the members of his cell. All was well.

 

Eli and his cell saw life signs—an impossible to miss mass of bodies on their scanners. They had noticed them long ago, and surmised it must be cultists with a group of hostages. They had been stationary for some time, and the cell planned simply to advance through the district around them and continue to the objective. On the wind Eli heard bells. Rhythmically, with monotonous precision, they chimed.

 

ting-ting, ting-ting ting-ting, ting ting

 

Eli climbed a set of rickety stairs into a small domed enclosure that connected to a string of homes along a higher tier of the alley. The cultists were on ground level, and the life signs were down the passage now, to his right, where that series of habs ended, opening into a large garden.  Under the light of the moon, everything seemed to glow, edges catching stray violet light.  In the center of the garden, around fifty Imperial citizens stood, utterly motionless and paralyzed by fear.

 

ting-ting, ting-ting ting-ting, ting ting

 

Eli was confident he would not be seen as he proceeded. He was covered by the shadows, and any line of sight the cultists might have was narrow and unlikely. He observed them as he moved past.  Foul, detestable things they were, clothed in bloody rags, wearing trophies of horrific brutality on their bodies. They were preparing the hostages for transport—chaining them by the legs and waists, painting their chests with dark, disturbing runes of blood. Deeply hooded figures circled the crowd, swinging billowing censers of foul, noxious smoke. He did not see where the bells were coming from. He made his way past unknown to them. They were not his mission.

 

ting-ting, ting-ting ting-ting, ting ting

 

Once the district was quarantined the cult revealed itself.  The citizens left abandoned were scattered and separated, forced into hiding by the monsters roaming the streets.  The cult moved with no such trepidation, their wards of bells and smoke protecting them.  There were two entrances to the catacombs outside of the cathedral itself, on opposite ends of the district.  Once utterly forbidden ground, it was now swarmed with doomed processions of hostages.  To what end was unknown.  Foul, reprehensible.  To proliferate beneath a site of such holiness.  Eli felt rage burn bright in his soul at the thought of bringing the man responsible low.  Intelligence told them that Isekander Kayde was near the cathedral. He spent his days and nights performing disgusting rituals in the shadow of its holiness, seemingly reverential and in supplication of a curious object.  Mission protocols stated that Kayde was to be eliminated, and this object destroyed.  

 

The alley opened into a larger boulevard after the garden.  The cultists behind them would not move for some time yet, sparing no effort in the preparation of their quarry.  Eli looked down at the long, empty street.  It was curiously free of the dead.  As Eli continued along the long string of shrine-houses he saw a muted violet light pulse.  Lumen and Olaf had found something.  They alerted him with a pulse of Lumen's vest, matched to the moonlight.  Eli blink-clicked the notification rune away, letting them know he was on his way, and he saw them go to continue their work.

 

Eli made his way down to the street. The signal had come from inside a chapel on the right side of the boulevard. The stained glass windows were shattered, and the stacks of candles long since snuffed out. The tall double doorway had been smashed away.  As Eli entered the chapel his shadow grew long in the moonlight, and the reason for the alert became clear. 

 

Suspended from the rafters in a great tangle of chains was one of the monstrosities. Eli could feel bile rise in his throat. It had been human once. What was left of the uniform marked him as PDF. He was suited in fully enclosed tactical gear that had been ruptured from the inside out—sharp, irregular horns spearing through his helmet. The armor split at the seams, strained by an unnatural change in height and muscle mass. The thing’s skin was the color of a raging flame, stretched thin over too much bulk.  Its mouth was a lipless, gaping wound, riddled with long, strong teeth. On the floor below lay the severed remnants of what had become of its hands—long, wicked blades, snapped short.

 

The locals had trapped it here and finished it. Eli thought of the captives he had passed earlier, and offered a silent prayer to The Emperor. They had fought bravely. Below the monster was a large bloodstain where its throat had been slit. Eli's eyes followed the trail of blood.  It was still liquid, moving in the direction of the cathedral, though the chapel wall was in the way. It bubbled and roiled at its base, ever expanding in search of a way forward. He had seen enough, and turned back towards the entrance.

 

When he exited, he was greeted by Lumen and Olaf sitting patiently by the door, having determined that Eli had paused his advance. He gave Lumen a gentle pat on the head and whispered “Good boys,”

To be a member of the Malum Vigilia was to meet horror face to face, with mind-numbing regularity. The souls of its mortal members had been tempered, and their minds filled with the Emperor’s truth. Every member of the Vigilia was a specialist of one kind or another—comms, wards, suppression, recon, infiltration, political liaison.

 

Eli was a hound handler, and he chose Olaf and Lumen for their specific augmentations.  Olaf had received extensive augmentation to his olfactory sensors to sharpen an already prodigious tracking gift. Lumen was outfitted for pursuit, and equipped with a prototype light-vest—subdermal housings that could pulse varying degrees and colors of light, strong enough to blind. Both hounds were subject to routine augments improving speed, durability, and inter-cell communication. Together they worked exceptionally well, and aided in the success of many missions.

Eli was leading the cell on the ground.  Of the ten mortals, Eli, at 73 years of age and 50 years of service to the Vigilia, was the most experienced.  He drew near the great spires surrounding the cathedral now.  The fortifying steel towers were as wide as an entire hab block, and packed together tightly, leaving no gap but small gated access tunnels, and the main processional road.  The boulevard he was traveling down opened into a large, empty street, encircling the spires.  Lumen and Olaf were already at the access gate they were meant to use, examining a thin current of blood that was trickling inside.

One by one, from the alleys and houses, nine mortals emerged in silence to join Eli. Clad in black and grey, faces covered, each soldier bore the Chapter’s insignia on their left shoulder: a three-leafed apple in white.  They had all received extensive juvenate treatments and augmentations designed to reduce their need for sleep or nutrients. They utilized bionics to increase speed, endurance, and situational awareness, and they had spent years training with mankind’s greatest defenders. They would not sell their lives cheaply, for the investment in them was extensive. 

“Spire Cell, report,” Eli voxed quietly.

 

“The guns are ready to go down. We’ve taken up positions to assist in the assault.  The cathedral itself is empty.  Kayde is on the steps with the relic, surrounded by his cult.  We have three angles on him, but he's moving and visibility is… Extremely bad.  There is… a lot going on in the courtyard. The cultists have been funneling in hostages for the fiends to feed on. Some hostages have turned on the innocent and… begun to change.”

 

Eli heard the man spit.

 

“Vile heresy,” the voice said.  

 

“Your approach is clear at the moment, but the highway and the plaza are full of them.”

“Maintain position.”

 

Assassination from the sky had been ruled out. The chance of a miss was unacceptable, and even a hit risked the relic falling into his cultists hands and disappearing into the hive. The best they could do was shoot all their shots at once and hope to devastate any sense of organized resistance. 

“Armor cell report,”

“We found a couple of nice ones to take with us, rigged the rest of the big ones, and we'll take out the small ones on the way.  We'll drag a tail but they'll be slow.  After drop we can be there in six or seven minutes.”

Eli sighed.

“Maintain position.”  Eli said and cut the channel.

 

The shrine district had been host to a large array of the hive’s military assets in order to protect the priceless cathedral. Tanks and other armored vehicles were scattered along its massive highway, traveled by millions every day. The spires were integrated into the hive’s orbital defenses and mounted great skyfire batteries. Mission protocol dictated Spire Cell was to neutralize the skyfire targeting systems, and Armor Cell was to disable enemy ground vehicles, in order for the local PDF to make an organized push towards the cathedral, and to seal the two entrances to the catacombs. Spire Cell was in position to provide recon inside the courtyard, and long-range support during the assault. Armor Cell was to commandeer three vehicles and make for the cathedral as soon as operations went loud, in order to hold the cathedral entrance.

Eli turned to his auspex specialist, Livia Serrin, callsign Altan.

“How many are in the access?”

“Fifteen, just regular life signs.  The closest is about fifty meters down.  They have a few fires.”

Eli signed for them to get into position on either side of the gate.  It was open.  The cult did not have much of a mind for security.  His cell had already guessed the call he was about to make and were adjusting their visors to prepare.  Temur and Batu took the point, being the most heavily armored.  Eli took the rear on the right hand side of the tunnel entrance.  Eli looked down at his hounds, always ready to serve.  He raised his fist in the familiar sign.

Lumen – breach.

Edited March 7 by FattyLumpkin