Inferno volume 5, p.26
Inferno! Volume 5, page 26
‘Kutrag, I assumed.
‘This slimy green beast was different from the others. A strange device covered Kutrag’s right eye and glowed red as it examined each of us thoroughly, one at a time. On its right arm, a gauntlet, each finger adorned with knives, buzz saws, and instruments of different sizes and ill intent.
‘When it got to me, the greenskin poked at my flesh with one of its instruments, babbling something as if I understood their slobbering language. I had no idea what I was being considered for, but I knew I wouldn’t like it, whatever it was. Clanking as it turned, Kutrag shouted something to the other greenskins, and with its bare left arm, pointed at Veritus.
‘They grabbed our scrawny brother and pulled him from the wall. All of us shouted and pleaded, cursed the greenies, threatened to kill them if they didn’t leave him alone. We were each struck with fists or boots until we’d quieted again. Veritus never said a word. He jerked his chin at Kutrag and called it something I don’t even have the heart to repeat here.
‘On the stage, two greenskins lifted a tarnished rack, where they chained Veritus and removed his shirt. He hung there like a worm on a hook, looking at us all with a sad acceptance, as if he’d been expecting this to happen sooner or later.
‘Kutrag’s wart-ridden hand grabbed two cables that had been lying on the floor, the ends of which were long and sharp, like spears. I then saw these were connected to the large, sparking coils. The greenskin plunged one of the cable ends into Veritus, piercing that fleshy spot where the shoulder and chest meet. We gasped, but dared not retort any louder. Our mate grunted, face twisted in pain, but he was doing his best not to give the greenies the satisfaction of hearing him scream. When Kutrag shoved the other cord into Veritus’ belly, though, he roared like a mad berserker.
‘A greenskin doctor. That’s what I believe this Kutrag was. Don’t believe me, do you? Of course you don’t. I wouldn’t have believed it either. Well, I’m not saying it was anywhere close to the skill level of our medics – Kutrag probably fell more in line with a common butcher – but hear what happened next and decide for yourselves.
‘What sounded to me like lungs coughing up pus was apparently Kutrag ordering one of the greenskins to raise its pistol and fire a bullet into Veritus’ head. One minute, our mate was breathing heavy. The next, he was still as stone, with a hole in his skull. The squad and I lost our restraint then. We shouted and cried and begged the Emperor’s mercy. The greenie scum at our sides didn’t even strike us that time. They laughed, delighting in our misery.
‘I wonder. Do they even grieve for their dead the way we do? Well, I doubt either of you will grieve for me. But… could I close my eyes? Just for a bit? You have my thanks. I… I feel so tired.
‘While we lamented, Kutrag hurried to work. It cut into Veritus’ head, removed the bullet with a pair of dirty tongs attached to its gauntlet and then filled in the wound with a syringe of thick, pink slime. Veritus was still. Dead. The man didn’t breathe, and Kutrag used a hearing device to listen to a heart that held no beat. Nodding, the greenskin shuffled over to a lever near the electrified coil on the right of the stage. It flicked the lever once – forward, then back, as quick as a snap of the fingers.
‘Electricity flooded Veritus’ corpse, shaking him like a dead worm. I didn’t understand it. Why torture a man after you’ve already killed him? But show me someone who says they understand greenskin logic and I’ll show you a filthy liar.
‘The shock from the coils was sudden, and vanished as quickly as it had come. The squad grew silent, myself included, all of us watching Kutrag as the mad butcher watched Veritus’ body with anticipation. What were we waiting for? We didn’t know. The only question that came to me then was who among us would be next?
‘Veritus gasped, as if he’d been under water for a long time and had finally broken the surface. None of us men spoke, we couldn’t believe what we’d just seen and heard. We weren’t sure if we’d imagined it. The greenskins, though, either laughed or grumbled, one handing another a fistful of hard, white objects. Currency? It wasn’t until the ones closest made their exchange that I saw they were teeth.
‘On the platform, Kutrag shined a light in Veritus’ eyes, used the hearing device to listen to the man’s heart. When the greenskin pulled away, our resurrected mate shouted into its face, “I’m back, you ugly pile of rat droppings!”
‘We men cheered then, rattling our bindings since we couldn’t pump our fists or stamp our feet. Veritus smiled proudly, drinking in the praise.
‘I… I am numb. I’ll have to hurry if I’m to reach this story’s end. Where was I? Oh, yes.
‘Kutrag couldn’t have understood what Veritus had said, but our reaction made it obvious that it’d been the butt of a joke, and for all the crudeness I’d seen in greenskin humour, this upset the doctor a considerable amount. It jumped up and down, swinging its oversized gauntlet of terror through the air. A vein throbbed at the side of Kutrag’s temple as it screamed a short sentence of babble.
‘Its rage reaching a climax, the greenskin raised its arms, as if daring us to challenge it further. Kutrag took a step but missed the top stair and tumbled forward, knocking over a cart of supplies. Bits and bobs bounced down the stairs after Kutrag, who landed in a heap under its heavy metal arm.
‘I’ve never laughed so hard in all my life, but it was due to exhaustion, and I was also trying my best to annoy the beast. Everyone in the squad was in tears from a fit of giggles of course, but so were the greenskins who’d captured us. And Veritus, he was up there, dangling from the rack and making each of his laughs cut through the air towards Kutrag like a thrown dagger.
‘The greenskin doctor groaned as it struggled to its feet, several smaller green creatures rushing in to help lift it. We continued laughing as Kutrag climbed its way back to Veritus. We didn’t stop when it raised the gauntlet’s middle finger, the one capped with a knife so sharp it could bisect a whisper. With this, Kutrag cut off our mate’s left arm.
‘Well, that shut us up. The greenskins that’d been laughing with us suddenly remembered themselves and cuffed us across the jaw or socked us in the gut. For whatever reason, I received both.
‘Veritus was surely in pain, but I reckon dying had somehow taken the sting out of life, and our mate refused to yowl. Instead, he shouted angry defiance at his torturer. “Kill me again, you walking bogie! I got more lives than an alley cat. And I’d give them all for my brothers!”
‘Now, as someone who’s recently lost an appendage, I can tell you the only thing you want to do when it happens is scream or die to escape the physical agony and the pain of losing a part of yourself forever. So, it was really something when Veritus gave Kutrag what for.
‘The whole of the squad shouted together thrice, almost in chant, a deep “Ve-ri-tus! Ve-ri-tus! Ve-rit-us!”
‘The greenies at our sides stepped away. I’d like to say it was fear that made them do it, but what’s more likely is they didn’t know what to make of us. Veritus’ stump steadily poured blood onto the platform. Scrawny lad couldn’t have had much to spare. But as I said, he had more than enough mettle.
‘Kutrag snarled and shot flames from a gauntleted finger, cauterising Veritus’ gory shoulder. Sound didn’t escape Veritus’ throat, but his face begged for an end to the suffering. Unfortunately, our brother had a long way yet to go.
‘They brought in a metal tub full of dirty liquid. I’d say it was water, but I’ve never seen water that black. The greenies turned the rack over and plunged Veritus’ head in, all the way up to his neck. Bubbles thrashed the surface and our brother battered against the contraption as hard as any man could.
‘None of us said a thing. This life we’ve been thrown into, the life of a Guardsman, it promises a likely end by blade or bullet. You accept the possibility – welcome it, in a way. But no one, not one soul birthed out of the deepest pit in the Imperium, would ever welcome a death by drowning.
‘When Veritus was dead – again – they dried him off and Kutrag barked something at one of the bigger orks. This oaf grunted and began pounding a fist against Veritus’ chest, as if sounding a war drum. It looked as though the big greenskin was pounding out the water trapped in our mate’s lungs. Kutrag hobbled over to the lever by the electrified coil, and once again gave it a sharp flick.
‘The one who’d been pounding Veritus’ chest flew from the spot, landing hard against the floor in front of me. Tendrils of smoke rose from its neck and armpits, smelling of burned grox-meat. Its fellows surrounded the body, and after a snap of Kutrag’s jaws, dragged the dead greenie away.
‘Veritus hacked up black liquid, spitting towards the mad butcher. I was convinced this was not some defiant insult, but a means to evacuate as much of the dark water from his body as possible. He gasped at air like a starving man tearing into a loaf of bread.
‘Weakly, he winked at us and smiled. “One more life for the Emperor.”
‘We cheered. Tears filled my eyes. I have never, not before that day or since, been so… proud or inspired. Veritus represented everything virtuous and decent. He gave us all a… reason to live, to keep fighting.
‘The greenskins became hurried in their movements, as if they were searching… for a form of death our brother could not return from. They brought a hammer and crushed his chest. Kutrag operated and shocked him back into being. Next came the… next came….’
‘Consus?’ Regula crawled over to him, knees smearing his blood across the floor. She shook him. ‘Consus!’
He’d closed his eyes, and would not open them. Regula checked Consus’ throat for a pulse but found none.
‘Has he gone?’ Amulius asked.
Regula nodded.
Something heavy pounded against the door, causing them both to turn and look. Unlike the times before, when the tyranids would heft their weight or claws against the barracks and move on, this came repetitively, like a battering ram that wouldn’t stop until the door had ripped open. Similar sounds attacked the walls and roof.
‘The game is over.’ Amulius stood and opened one of the boxes filled with bombs. ‘Come now. You’re a breacher. Set one of these to go off. If there’s time, and you’d prefer a shot to the head, I’d be more than happy to oblige.’
Getting to her feet, Regula brushed at her knees, but stopped when she realised they were covered in Consus’ blood. ‘I will not.’
‘We have no time for your misguided sense of honour!’ Amulius threw the box to the floor, watching the explosives bounce and roll away.
Regula wondered if the old man had been hoping the impact would cause the quick death he wouldn’t be able to get from her. A layer of sadness covered his face now. ‘If you want me to detonate one of the charges, you have to win the game. Tell me the best story. Best death wins, right?’
Amulius kicked at the empty container. ‘Consus is dead, and we’re at a stalemate. You hear that sound at the door? Our time has run out.’
‘If you didn’t have a worthy death to recount,’ Regula said, ‘then you shouldn’t have suggested the game.’
Amulius’ jaw twitched. ‘You want a story? I’ll tell you a story!’
AMULIUS’ STORY
‘It started like any other day. Another planet, another day trudging through blood and muck as you hold the line against endless waves of enemy troops. We were entrenched and barely holding back a group of xenos-worshipping cultists. But I soon noticed what made this day different – I could look at the sky without shielding my eyes.
‘Countless dark objects swarmed above, nearly blotting out the day. A woman in my squad wondered if these were our reinforcements, perhaps Astartes drop pods. But I knew different, not because I was sure of what was to come, but because I could feel it in my gut. When the objects in the sky began plummeting into the ground, showing themselves to be large fleshy pods, destroying whatever and whoever crossed their path, it confirmed my intuition. We would never leave.
‘I’d thought I’d known fear. Sergeants had told me that bravery is not the lack of fear, but the strength to push through it and do what needs to be done. I held onto that belief my entire career as a Guardsman. But what I saw in the sky that day, it wasn’t something you could push through. It pushed back. Where before I’d felt a heat that motivated me into battle, this day I felt only cold streams flooding my veins.
‘I ran, ran as fast as my feet would take me.
‘“Follow Amulius!” someone in the squad shouted.
‘I hadn’t wanted them to follow. I was propelled by a deep sense of fear and self-preservation, but I was also too focused on the ground ahead to look back and tell them to find their own path of retreat.
‘The war sirens sounded, calling everyone to arms. Guardsmen stormed from their barracks, hefting their weapons, a horde of sacrificial meat driven by duty. What a word. What a lie. I’d given most of my life to duty, to the Imperium. And after all that, I was to die in this swarm of monsters? No. I was going to survive. That was my duty.
‘Avoiding the pods became harder the further I ran. One landed right on top of the commissary as I was heading for it. I could have lasted a long time in there. Food for ages. But I didn’t slow, didn’t grieve the wreckage of a lost refuge. Those who do that have very short lives.
‘My squad, still running after me, kept shouting that I stop. I refused. It was about this time the pods opened and things inside them ripped their way out. I fired my gun, saw how useless it was against them, how fast they were, how much damage their armoured bodies could endure.
‘What slowed me, forced me to look back into the maw of certain death, was a scream. Lucia was her name. She’d been trying like mad to reach me, but she’d fallen to the ground and the creatures, not so mindless to turn down an easy meal, leapt upon her. The sounds of tearing flesh and twisted bone, the sight of blood and innards scattered across the sand, that’s what got me to running again.
‘The others in my squad diverted course to stay away from the feeding horde, but continued to follow me. When I saw a barracks ahead, a building more fortified than your standard issue, I locked myself inside. You think the monsters out there are slamming these walls? It’s nothing compared to how hard my old squadmates pounded their fists to be let in.
‘I never told them to follow me. Why did I have to let them in? If I let them in, then those things would be right behind and I couldn’t allow that. My fellow Guardsmen screamed, calling me every name under the stars. But, as is the nature of humans, their rage quickly turned to supplication when the beasts were near.
‘They begged to be let in. “Amulius, please!”
‘They did that for a long time. Well, it felt like a long time. Their cries were cut short soon enough, but replaced with the shrieks of monsters. As the massacre raged out there, I was in here, looking through what I had at my disposal. Imagine my disgust at the unfairness of it. Bombs. Explosives. I took it as a sign, though. I’d tried to hide from death, and this was my punishment. That’s when I dared a peek outside and saw a young woman dragging a legless man across the sand.’
Regula wished more than anything to raise her gun and end the miserable life of Amulius Vespan. But she didn’t. ‘You dare threaten me for what I did to my sergeant? You? After what you did? I saved lives that day on the bridge. You are nothing but a coward.’
Amulius threw down his lasgun. ‘Then allow me to enact my own sentence. Please, Regula. Tell me how to detonate the charges. You can escape and die however you want. I realised too late that none of us will survive this. I was wrong. If you won’t allow me the death I want, then shoot me.’
Regula shook her head. ‘Shoot yourself, Amulius.’ She walked towards the door, now barely hanging on its hinges. A claw slid through the crack and scratched at the wall.
‘I can’t!’ The terror in his voice caused Regula to look back. The old man was on his knees, tears in his eyes. ‘You’re right. After all my years, I’ve become a coward. I can’t even take my own life. I’ve got by this long on the courage and sacrifices of others. But don’t let these monsters have me. Please, Regula.’
‘That’s why you let us in,’ Regula said, nodding with realisation. ‘You needed someone else to give you the best death you could hope for. You reckoned one of us could detonate the charge. Save you the trouble. And now you’d settle for a shot to the head. Amulius, I’m sorry to say, but yours wasn’t the better story. Your squadmates’ deaths–’
‘The story wasn’t about them.’ Amulius shook his head, slobbering over himself as he shouted. ‘It’s about us. Our deaths. Our story.’
‘In that case,’ Regula said, ‘I’m going to choose the ending.’
A thunderous groaning filled the barracks as the roof was peeled away. A large claw dropped down and impaled Amulius through his centre. The tyranid lifted its claw, dangling Amulius there like a limp piece of meat at the end of a stick. A dumb, surprised expression across the old man’s face was the last Regula saw of him before his body was pulled into the sky.
She levelled her sights on the door. As the monsters tore into the barracks, dropping from the ceiling, slithering through the walls, charging her from all sides, Regula Morrison ran towards her death, lasgun blazing, and the Emperor’s name on her lips.
TRAIL OF ASH
Graeme Lyon
With this intense story of redemption Graeme Lyon returns to the pages of Inferno!, leaving behind the Blood Bowl gridiron for the wilds of Ghur.
Jaqlyn Kouslo is in pursuit. Through a catastrophic magical mishap, she has unwittingly unleashed something horrible upon the Realm of Beasts, and now it is her responsibility to banish it. As she tracks the dire entity across the realm with a regiment of Freeguild in tow, we learn of Jaqlyn’s guilt and her burning desire to atone for her failure. This thrilling tale explores the wildness and unpredictability of magic in the post-Necroquake Age of Sigmar.
