!B2bSxiuNtM 10/16/09(Fri)02:27 No.6293162|
>Fuck Daemons, Get Props
You bring your Storm Bolter to bear as you slowly chant out litanies against daemonic forces through your vox, advancing towards the noise ahead of you in the corridor. The piercing cry of another human screaming out in terror drives you forwards faster, your legs pumping into the bulkhead as you burst through a doorway to see small winged creatures dragging off a flailing human crewman, the air about the room MUCH colder, so much so that a thin veil of frost coats the room. A sidewards glance shows a sickening pile of viscera, the remains of human bodies, horribly maimed, with limbs and pieces missing. The creatures turn to face you, dropping the human to the bulkhead.
They begin to giggle with laughter.
"Think that this one will have more meat?" one says.
"He sure is bigger than the rest. Get him!" another orders.
Five of the small creatures fly at you. Two bolts blast them out of the air as the other three slip passed your fire. They're nimble enough to dodge your Thunder Hammer as they latch onto your armour. They bite and pull trying to get into your suit, but are unable to. Dropping your hammer, you grab them one by one, crushing them each in turn with your fist.
You retrieve your hammer as you see the human run away in sheer terror.