Welcome to my world

Good morning, noon, evening, afternoon or night, or whatever time you happen to be awake reading this, not that I really care. I know that people are waiting for my fourth chapter, and again, it's not going to be likely that it's going to come out any time soon. In the mean time Raven, my good, and somewhat weird friend keeps writing. Seriously though, I don't know where he gets his creativity, mine ebbs, and then floods, and I write several stories at once, and than quit. Why? I really don't know, I guess it's because I would rather eat a live mouse than continue something I know wouldn't be interesting to most people. This is my world, a world of fire, mayhem, Halloween, and random stories of almost anything. Please enjoy Raven's next story, or something, his notes make more sense than my pointless rambling. And friends, remember, read in the dark it helps your eyes to grow stronger. ^.^

Authors notes on

Death of a Guardsmen

Hello my friends, its me Blood Raven. But please refer to me as Blood, or Raven. All my friends do. Anyways I hope you enjoyed my story of Death of a Guardsmen. Now you may be wondering why you are reading this before my next story, “Unsung Heroes” And soon you will see. You see Death of a Guardsmen was exposed to be the name of the first chapter on my book. But due to a bit of a error on my part Stray put it as the name of my story. Now I didn't want to be a bother and seeing that the intro would take me a while I decided to make it its own short story. I enjoyed writing the story and getting it into full swing now as I made the next section. I wanted to also show others my little fantasy nexus of worlds. You will soon be introduced to a form of nexus of all the little worlds of literature, video games, books, movies and my own little creations. If I tried to make money off of this I would be sued up the wazoo. But I take my inspiration from them all and I hope you will enjoy my new story set in world war 2, and a few other settings, “Unsung Heroes.”

Unsung Heroes

By Blood Raven 117

Chapter one, The glory of the Unnamed 

   Larnegin was sweating hard. His heart beat like a marching drum on a  parade ground. He heard nothing and only saw ahead of him, at the other end of the ring. Standing there, with his boxing gloves on tight Janeson smiled cockily as he moved his wrist in a insult to him, trying to get him attack. Larnegin didn't budge. Sound was still gone, then like the waves of Vernesta when under them and suddenly ringing out he heard the cheers, the whoops, the sounds of machines working, the sounds of man, woman, and alien working and keeping in peak physical condition.

   All around him Larnegin saw the gathered 10th company of the 10th Vernestan Marines, and a few of the Drill Instructors and Staff Sergeants. Janeson had suggested a nice public match. The two had been practicing their new fighting styles they had been learning, Krav Magra some called it, others MMA, a few just said pain. The gloves were just so they didn't punch in one anothers face. Around them who surrounded him, Larnegin saw Caref, Jard in his “Skinned” or human form. He also saw Larky, Lunie, all of them. He smiled, “What? You getting cocky now?” Janeson asked as they circled the arena.

   At the other end of the training room, he saw other beings. A few tall as a space marine, but distinctly different, were lifting weights, talking, or exercising in other ways. Further along the giant circular room, he saw a grouping of Half Breeds, daemonhosts. They assorted themselves, from the four chaos gods. Larnegin had learned much in his time here about both those groups. The first, the tall humans, were something called Spartans. Specifically a mix of Spartan II's, III's, and even a few dozen Spartan V's. The spartan V's may as well have been space marines, so heavily armored and armed, drawn from the finest men and woman humanities many dimension's had to offer. The Half Breeds on the other hand, were almost opposite, shorter, many varied, some lanky dirty and sick, others bright red like blood and bearing charms, others more emphasized on their appearance, both sick to look at but irresistible to take your eyes away. And finally the more older, wizened looking ones, obviously crackling with contained psychic energy.

   As they kept circling Larnegin saw more, Engineers of the supposed Quarians assisted by Huragoks, or more simply called Engineers, working on the machines of the base. More he saw, Eldar, Tau, Sangheli's, Special operations troops, Space Marines, Sisters of Battle even. Even more he saw storm troopers, Kedesians, Anthropomorphic animal human hybrids of all shapes and sizes, and the best of the best; they looked like a mix of several things, they were about 6'6 feet tall average, they wore skin tight jumpsuits with either camo arrangements, or bright orange. They had hooks, clips, and other pockets and such for equipment. They all wore standard issue combat boots. Some had long hair, or had sheared theirs off. The most visible thing about them was their mask, they all wore a mask that looked a lot like the Quarian's mask, but no tube connections. All of them had thick banks of mist or fog covering their features. Some said that they wear those masks because they will lose their soul if they don't. He didn't think that, but he did admit, they looked menacing. He didn't even know what the Unnamed called them, fitting he thought to himself.

   Then Janeson did his action. Lunging forward he punched for his gut. Larnegin sidestepped, made a counter move to Janeson's face. He ducked down and then tried to sweep Larn's feet from under him. Larn toppled, Janeson descended to make the final blow and pin him. Larn rolled away and Janeson was now off balance. Larn swiped Janeson's legs now and he fell on his face. Larnegin jumped back up immediately. The cheers surrounding them were deafening, like a solid tidal wave of sound, like the Basilisks firing and the triple A bunker being annihilated. Janeson tried to roll away himself, but was stopped as Larnegin fell on him when Janeson was face up. Punching him in the face, keeping his body pinned by his own weight. Janeson blocked with his forearms and then suddenly pushed forward with them like a riot shield almost. Pushing him off they tried to pin each other quickly, Janeson got behind Larnegin and then held him in a headlock. Larn slipped free, being drenched in sweat. Hitting Janeson in the face he knocked his head sideways. Then he kept punching, now on top, focusing himself on just trying to send the other man to unconsciousness. Janeson had no room to block. He was done for and tapped out. The arena's bell rang and there were boos and cheers.

   “That was the sorriest match I have yet seen!” A man pushed his way onto the rink. Janeson and Larnegin jumped up to attention to the tall and muscled man. He cuffed them both on their padded helmets. “What do you have to say you two?” Janeson and Larnegin both looked up to him and said, “We'll train harder Staff Sergeant!” He looked at them both and with arms crossed nodded, “Damn right.” He said to them. “Go to the showers boys.” They both saluted and left the arena to their new supervising officer Staff Sergeant Indrein Johnson. Leaving the arena Larnegin saw the men around him mosh him and congratulate him loudly. Leaving the crowd he met with Janeson at the locker room's entrance.

   A Kedeshian was leaning against the wall next to the door. She had a desk mask up, on the top of her head. Her forearms branded with crosses. She sported long canine fangs like the saber cats of the plains on Vernesta. She smiled at him her K9's almost over sized it seemed, “Saw you and your friend on the rink.” She said jerking her head in the direction of the arena, now occupied by a pair of Sangheli  warriors sparring with wooden swords, the 10th company dispersed to their de facto section of the gym. All in synchronized workout by the Staff Sergeant counting as he did push ups on a raised podium to make sure every one did them right.

   Larnegin nodded and looking to her she went on, “You did pretty good for a beginner, you and your friend there.” Her smiled disappeared, “Names Jackeline. Everyone calls me Jacky.” She extended her large hand out for him to shake. Jacky was a prime and fit specimen of the Kedeshian race. They were once human, and in a way still are, but ravaged by a horrible disease that raised their dead into zombies, they became infected and began to change and evolve. Eventually they realized they were changing, which was when they found the cure to the disease they all carried. After some debate among their leadership, instead of using the cure, they modified it into the next step of their development.

   They had gotten bigger, stronger, smarter, and their bodies more efficient. And instead of cleansing themselves of the disease that made them like this, they used it, and made it better, making N5, the next step from N4, the disease that made the undead. Using it they got even better. Their race also had developed mutations depending on the environment, some had gills, others scales, and even the rare ones had the ability to blend into their environment with their chameleon like skin.

   Larnegin took her hand in his, surprised that she offered to shake in the first place. Her hand was about 1.5 times larger then his. She was around 9 feet tall, towering over him. “My name's Larnegin.” Smiling at her she was intimidating but he had nothing to worry about. She smirked, “See you later kid.” Larnegin looked at her confused, “So you just say 'Hi' Then leave?” She kept walking and ignored him. Shaking his head he smiled at Janeson, “Who was that?” He asked taking his helmet off. Larnegin just shrugged.

   The locker room was mostly empty, a few other guardsmen and woman was dressing or changing. Larnegin went to his locker and opened it. Putting his gear in it he got a towel. Moving to a stall he turned on the shower. He enjoyed the cool water for a moment until he felt a electrical charge behind his right ear. Grabbing the part he opened his mouth in pain no sound's escaping.

Christmas sucks...

Well, this is the month of December, snow, hot chocolate, more snow, and it all bites. To people that have been waiting, I'm sorry, never been good with keeping schedules, ever since I was a little kid, was always late with homework, or forgot to do it, or just both. >///> Anyways, I thought, you know what, I've been bugged by my good friend Raven to post the rest of his chapters, and me, I'm still working on Ch. 4... Don't judge me, I have a horrible memory and creative drive. >.<"  So, what does this have to do with Christmas? Nothing, except we should be celebrating Halloween again, but dressed up all better..ish. And hand out random presents instead of candy, kids would be stoked for that one, I can tell ya that. But, I will give you chapters three and four plus something a little extra, all raw, without me going over that atrocious spelling...I give you... Death of a Guardsmen! Enjoy, and I should come out with the fourth chapter soon...I think.

Chapter III 

Death of a Guardsmen

   Larnegin wondered what poor souls were fighting in the next trench section. Looking out he felt the mud and blood on him drying as he saw the great exchanges of fire. It was madness out there, even as the imperials were slowly forced back they took and gave a heavy toll. Looking around the entire 7th company of the Vernesta Marines waited patiently. In five minutes the rest of the men had formed up taking the trench. But they couldn't stay here, when the mutants realized they were breached they will both bomb the section and send in reinforcements.

   Caref yelled for Larnegin, turning on his heels more smartly then he would have liked himself to do he walked up with his head lower. “Yes sarge?” He said as he drew close. Jard was nearby helping a corpsmen patch up a wounded man and then saw them off as they carried about a dozen men back, hiding in no man's land. Larnegin almost wished he was injured, but fate was not so kind. Caref now spoke after checking his map, “Larnegin, listen. You know what were after right?” Larnegin nodded. He payed attention despite his sleep drained brain during the short briefing.

   Caref nodded, “The AA cannons are just about five miles past their lines, out of our range of our main guns. We can't use any orbital fire or even our longer ranged arty because of the bunkers they hold the guns in.” Larnegin nodded, knowing why they hadn't just blasted the guns already. They had tube charges and D9 explosive putty. With those they could blow the guns and get out alive for the most part.

   Jard joined the pair and smiling said, “Correct. Unfortunately though we will be hard pressed to get this many men in that far without getting seen.” Larnegin nodded, “Too bad we don't have some guys like the Tanith or maybe a scout regiment like the Catachen 945th. Caref nodded, “Too bad indeed. But we make do. Larnegin, get me at least 10 shotguns, Jard mind getting the scouts together as a vanguard?” Jard smiled, “My pleasure.” Larnegin stood at attention and saluted, “Yes sir.” Setting off he called up Janeson and another Vernestan named Larky, “Hey guys. I'm seconding you to help me find some shotguns.”

   Larky was a Ratling. A halfling. A midget. He held his standard sniper pattarn lasgun, wearing a smaller version of the standard Vernestan battle dress, and he was a notorious crook and gambler. But he always returned what he stole. Usually. He was also a black market weapon dealer and he had a pack on his back carrying “Supplies”. Larky looked up and frowned, “Awww no! No, no, no, no, no, no. Not my shotguns!” Larnegin crossed his arms and frowned himself, “Unless you can get about ten more from the troops around and give them a lasgun I'm afraid so.” Larky grumbled and sighing heavily made up his mind, “Fine, but you better reimburse me when this is all over. I better get every last one back!” Larnegin nodded, extending his hand he said to the Ratling smiling, “Deal.” Taking the handshake they had a deal. With that bit of business done Janeson began to help find some shotguns as well, while Larky went through his stash pulling out a pair of cut down shotguns from his bag of merchandise.

   The vanguard, now equipped with shotguns, began to creep forward from the mutant front. Each wore a camo cloak and skillfully moved forward unnoticed. Jard had elected to go with the vanguard, believing it was fitting that he should lead from the front in case it all went sideways. Larnegin was just happy Jard didn't “Volunteer” himself into that mess. Shaking his head Larngein began to move out along with his squad. They couldn't stay out any longer, they had to move on now.

   Larngein and his squad were one of the teams leading the main advance, they would be one of the first to hit any resistance and so they had to be on their upper most guard. Everyone was silent as they crept forward silently and eliminated any mutant patrols or squads they encountered with their knives. The battle still raged everywhere, no where was safe, even where they tread right now,  for all they would know they could get incinerated as a artillery officer accidentally fired at the wrong spot in the line. That would be a hell of a way to die.

   After about a hour of moving forward the combat stopped, falling back the imperials began to withdraw back to their own lines. Larnegin once again felt himself wishing to go with them. But this was how a Guardsmen died. He died in his duty for the emperor of Mankind, sitting atop the golden throne on holy Terra. Suddenly they heard fire ahead. Then their micro beads pipped up, it was Jard. “Sergeant, we have encountered heavy resistance, likely moving to reinforce the line we punched through. Me and the scouts will lead them away-” his bead came up with loud ka chunks as shotguns blasted, “Were going for a secondary position, artillery guns 972. That should lead them away from you.” Caref nodded and ordered all squads to double time it and be careful. They were running out of time.

   Larnegin kept in line and prayed a silent prayer to Jard and the men that they live and succeed. And even more that they live and succeed. Looking back to his friends smiling face he took heart and moved forward diligently. The trenches had mutant dead lining the floor, throats slit and heads smashed. Larky was keeping pace gibbering annoyed. Janeson smiled and hit the little man over the head softly, “Shhhsss, were hunting.” He hissed with a wry smile and a happy eye.

   After about 20 more minutes they saw the guns up close and knew they were drawing close to their target. The guns were massive and searching the sky. Big, heavy, and oppressive they're were horrible sigils, runes, and body parts slathered generously all over the guns. They had been hearing renewed shooting from Jard's forces fighting several miles west, but Larnegin didn't hear the new whistle in the bullets until he saw the leading guardsmen buckle forward. “Take cover!” Instinctively they all did as told, one man dragging the limp form of the point man in cover.

   Larnegin risked look forward and saw a stubber team of mutants. All ready he saw mutants forming up and getting ready to charge them. “Grenadiers to front!” Caref said over the clanking and wet impacts of the stubber and its bullets. The two grenade launchers in the squad went to the front and readied to fire. Then an explosion at the stubber team sent them all sprawling even so far away. What was left was a smoking crater of ruined meat, mud, and steam.

   It encompassed the whole bunker the mutants had been using, blowing out from the inside. It was a confusing sight, but no time to linger on such thoughts of luck or fate as mutants were streaming from the other trenches, some even going so far in blood lust going up about over the trench line. Firing the grenade launchers together killed a dozen on all sides. Suddenly the vox links became mounting with attack reports. Caref yelled out, “Move forward! To the AA guns now! We need to get to them before were overrun.”

   Everyone knew that Caref's words were prophetic as they began to charge forward narrowly evading the crush of CQC with the mutants. Their flame trooper Lunie, also known as “Lunatic”, poured fire forward smiling widely as he put them all to the torch. Wretched screaming went up and the mutants relented a bit, just enough for them to move forward even more. They were at the bunker entrance for the AA guns. Just in sight. So close.

   “Larn! Blast the door! Blast them Larn!” Larnegin snapped out of it. Shaking his head he took out a pound of D9 putty and placed it on the door's hinges and locks. Stepping back lasfire filled his ears as well as the screams of mutants and man. Hitting the detonator the giant metal door had its hinges and locks blown off. Unfortunately the door was still standing upright, and quite comically. The doors wide hinges were scrap and blown apart, as well as the door. Larnegin laughed despite himself, his mind somehow finding it so Emperor damned hilarious.

   Running up to the two ton door he smiled and pushed heavily, soon Janeson, Larky, and a trooper names Carrinton joined in. Laughing for no reason Larnegin felt a loose grasp on his mind like some cent was making him high. The others gave him a strange look and he just shrugged. With the combined assistance of the other troopers they pushed the door forward and it clanged down heavily. Rushing forward with weapons in hands trooper Carrington dropped dead as round whipped through him and his greatcoat seconds after he rushed through.

   Immediately Larky jumped back while Janeson and Larnegin went opposite directions and found cover on the wall or some wooden boxes. The gunfire inside was deafening. The walls were rockcreate, the floor thankfully devoid of dirt. Larnegin clutched his lasrifle and got to a sitting crouch. The mutants didn't have anything heavy but some crude auto guns but they were making a show with. Larky's long las fired and saw a mutant explode in a fountain of gore and viscera. Janeson fired his lasrifle over the lip of is little box in a term affectionately known as blind firing. It did its job in sending the mutants to cover.

   Larnegin took the advantage. Jumping over the wooden box he was using as cover, he had his bayonet attached to his rifle. Finding a pair of mutants he smiled wide as he cut them down with a auto blast of laser fire. A crack, a scrap of dirt, the sound of air rushing around raising his lasrifle. The fighting turned into a tunnel visioned series of pictures and far away sounds. Turning his weapon sharply he turned it on its side blade level with the corrupted flesh. The mutant saw itself disemboweled by his bayonet's sharp edge. Another got up to rise but had a new black mark on its malformed corrupted head for its trouble of rising, the wound instantly cauterizing with the superhot blast of energy going through its head.

   The firing stopped, both inside and outside. The yells continued and the sound of whistling arty was loud outside. At least half a dozen squads began to flood in, firing resumed outside as the rearguard  engaged again. The inner workings door was not sealed and already another breach squad leveled in and began to ready themselves to breach to the inner workings of the Bunker, likely the main chamber. Larngein smiled at his friend once more and together they smiled.

Chapter IV

Death of a Guardsmen

   “FOR VERNESTA!” The whole of the force who pushed in screamed out as they charged into the ill defended base. The few corrupt tech adepts working the triple A were cut down, mutated, blasphemous looking mechanical creatures, tendrils and horns growing from the bodies, the mutants didn't last long as bayonets speared out and killed and killed. Soon many were covered in blood, gore, and other unthinkable things they would rather not think about.

   Larnegin kept pace, with his rifle in hand he fired precision shots and destroyed any opposing force. Soon in less then half a hour the whole facility was cleared. It was not to big, the only defenses seeming to be the turrets outside. Sergeant Caref ordered the turrets occupied and defenses strengthened. The problem here would be to know how to sabotage the guns effectively. Larky began to work with Lunie to see how to destroy the ammo carriage. Janeson went down with his squad to rig the ammo to blow. And Junersan's squad was to start rigging firing pieces to blow and see what else they could do.

   The combat from Commissar Jard's diversion continue for another hour then they saw they were pushed back and heard confirmation from him. Caref sighed, “Were on our own now.” He said into the vox for all. “Lets do this job then get the hell out of here.” They remained untouched for a further 10 minutes. Then they came, and they came with everything they had.

   “Hold the line men!” Sergeant Huolder yelled at his lungs top capacity as he fired down into the mutant hordes coming. “Janeson! How much longer?” Caref spoke in his micro bead, “Longer, we keep finding new rooms and we have to clear-” Caref snapped, “Just hurry! We can't hold out for long, were going to run out of ammo. Rig what you can.” He closed the link. “Larky! Status-” He was cut off himself as a loud internal explosion sounded, “Done sir. We used some of the ammo stores to blow the carriage. Its scrap now!” Larky was coughing out as he and Lunie almost smoked themselves.

   Then the mutants broke in. The door the Marines had to blow to get in had been boarded up with crates, bodies, metal sheets, anything really. The mutants breaking through were annihilated, evaporated waist up from the fire incoming from the guardsmen guarding the door. Larnegin was manning a heavy stubber on the wall. Then the hordes of mutants gave way to something terrible. A Lemen Russ MBT. It was made from the local forges, on it foul symbols and creeds of chaos were painted in filth, shit, and blood. A 8 pointed star sat on the front armor plate of the tank The cannon opened up and Larnegin jumped back just in time to see the gun he just inhabited blown to bits. Several more explosions came from the main guns as firing pieces were blown apart, joints welded shut, pins destroyed, and barrels warped best as they could. It was not enough. It would never be enough. They would die here as fucking sacrificial lambs, martyrs. “No. Not like this.” He said aloud, drowned out by the din of battle.

   The others around him turned to him as he ran down the hall way. He was not trying to run from duty, but find a way to escape for them all before they were killed. The mutants broke in a second door. They were going to be overrun soon. “Sir, we have all the chambers ready to blow. It will be one big bang. It will destroy the whole area!” Janeson's voice piped up. Larnegin knew that they had won, but this was now a question of escape. “Roger. Get up here and help us. Calling in air support.” Caref's voice came over the vox.

   Larnegin got to the end of the hall and the tank was now met with two more of its evil brethren. They all fired and the ferrocreate structure of the AA guns started to splinter. “Sarge! Were not going to last much longer!” Larnegin shouted. A tank exploded out wards as several rockets hit its side. Suddenly hope had arrived. Vendetta gunships. The ships were a standard constructed template of the valkyries. But these were sleeker versions, twin turbines, nose like that of a old military chopper with double cockpits. The nose gun was a heavy bolter. Its wing tips holding rocket pods, its wings also holding many more weapons, lascannons, and a hurricane bolter turret on the lead ship.

    The wave of ammunition and laser beams annihilated the tanks in formation. The bolters from the strafing run killed hundreds of the mutants. But there were still hundreds more mutants then they had ammo for. A third hole blew in, and even more mutants poured in. This was it. They were going to die even with the air support. Then the unexpected happened. A daemon host appeared.

   He fell in the middle of the AA complex, a burning comet from space. The whole complex shook hadn't he mutant horrors outside seemed quiet and they looked on. Suddenly, on the entire planet he knew, all fighting had ceased. Looking at the thing, he clutched his gun tight to his chest in fear, knuckles white in grip. His breathing stopped as he looked upon its form.

   Its head was the most iconic visage. Looking upon the helmet first he had a old looking, well kept helmet. It had a spike on the top, like some old Germanic soldier from a war on old Earth not to different from the kind they were fighting now. The spiked helmet looked technologically advanced but corrupt looking almost. Next its face, it had innumerable scars and wounds, it was a sickly green tinge, with sores and pus spewing from under his chin strap, but his eyes were crystal blue, a sad blue of the ocean, a clean place.

   On his shoulders he held two giant Vox speakers, almost grafted into his skin it seemed. They were rusty and old but they obviously worked well. His clothes were old, grubby, dirty, and sick with disease. On his chest however was emblazoned in foreign letters, “DONOVAN”. The thing smiled grimly and standing from its kneeling stance. He wore a heavy black sickly looking duster over his armor that had its odd looking letters. His pants were standard army fatigues, and boots were polished with filth that was exposed to be boot polish it seemed.

   It looked on to the frozen scene around him and he raise a large caliber pistol and fired at a mutant sending its  form to pink black and green pus filled mist. Then the speakers started to blare with a song that restarted the war across the world with a new fervor. The song dirged out with a heavy beat, beaitn against his mind, then the lyrics,“I like the way you talk, I love the way its loud.” “No one understand the fuck I am about!” It kept going out. The host yelled out the lyrics himself enjoying the words as he fired his pistol at any who approached him, mutant or guardsman. He walked out of the crater he had formed and Larnegin knew with certainty he was after him.

   The song flowed out and shook the entire building, dust came down from the blasphemous walls. Larnegin tried to run truly now. The men kept fighting, he ran past them all. The mutants scaled the walls, climbing through a fire port in front of him Larnegin yelled out and cut the mutant's throat and chopped off a tentacle then a arm. It stalled him enough for the thing behind him to get up the stairs. The music flowed out more loudly, he helped the guardsmen almost. The song in low gothic inspired them in a way to fight harder. But it was not going to be enough to survive. Already the mutants had thousands dead outside the walls, and more were coming, but they were going to die in droves, they maybe weaken the line to get them. He tried to run but then a piece of masonry in-front of him was blown apart by a tank outside.  Caref was now yelling for arty support, the men then began to sing along with the song and in a great chant it seemed they took to heart and repeated it out in resistance.

   Donovan as Larnegin was now going to call the daemon walked up to him, “Larn!” Janeson's voice was heard over the yells and he fired at the thing infront of him. Donovan didn't even flinch from the wound form the lasers. Larnegin aimed his rifle at the thing but he could not pull the trigger, “So, mister important. Time for you to meet your fate.” Explosions rocked the whole complex. The vendetta gunships flew away and artillery pounded away at the base.. Masonry rocked, banners fell, and a bright blue milky orb was raised by Donovan. All of the essence of those who died around was absorbed willingly into the orb. “So mister Larnegin. You shall join me in a quest the galaxy has to offer. No excuses.” Larnegin was about to scream to him to go to hell, but then the explosives from below were detonated, and the entire 10th company, of the 10th Vernestan Marines died under the guns of the Basilisks. And all the while Donovan collected their souls for a greater purpose.

Death of a Guardsmen

Epilogue

   Larnegin awakened. His body sore, his skin felt like it was grown and muscles atrophied from unused. Just slightly, like his body had been grown from a vat or something like that. Groaning he felt tired, wondering where he was he was blinded by white light. Maybe hew as in a medicae temple or even a forward post in the trenches. Last thing he remembered was, a horror before him, and then the whole building exploding form beneath. Looking up he was in a chair. His clothes replaced by white pants, and a white shirt, hand woven, warm, comfortable, big.

   This was strange. Looking around the room it was all white, the table in front of him white as well. There were no visible windows or doors. He felt his head and was clean shaven and his hair cut to his specifications. His PRIVATE specifications. He also had the feeling of being well fed and taken care of. And no scars on him at all besides his old combat ones.

   Looking in confusion suddenly a door formed at the other end of the table. It opened from a unseen crack. Opening a woman, old, but beautiful, with a plaid skirt, lab coat, and a pair of glasses sat down with a heavy file at the other end of the table. She began to read. After about ten minutes Larnegin spoke up, “Um, whe- where am I?” He looked at her feeling her presence was a strong one, something that had lived long and hard.

   After another minute she wrote something down on a notepad with a pen and looking up removed her spectacles. “Larnegin Parenza, Corporal, newly promoted not even two hours before your death on the planet-” She looked down on her notes, “Sigma Seven Fourteen. Recovered by Agent Donovan all your company's men. Even agent Jard it seems. Your greatest achievement was the destruction of triple A platform charlie on the planet, with the death of your company you saved thousands of lives and opened the way for Imperial control and survival in the sector.”

   She smiled at Larnegin, “Your a very good soldier. Smart too.” Larnegin was speechless. Looking at her he found his voice, “De- death?” He asked. She nodded and smiled grimly, “Yes..... You see, men and woman, human and Xenos, do not go to their gods. No. We collect their souls.” Larnegin was speechless. “This can't be-” Suddenly Jard entered behind from the doorway, in full resplendent regalia. But he had the face and body of a daemon, like that one before. Larnegin tried to stand but was to weak, “Larn, glad you awoke.” He smiled, teeth razor sharp and his tongue forked. The medal of a Commissar was proudly displayed with no regret. It was untarnished, unmutated, pure and clean as the soul of any other commissar.

   “But.....” Jard nodded, “I know, surprising. You see I was taken a long time ago, before even your great, great grandfather was born. I died in the battle of Epsilon Eridani. But that was long ago, now it is time for you to be told of the truth. All of it.......”

This is Halloween...

Welcome to the month of October, where candy corn, caramel apples, pumpkin carving contests, and fall is all mixed into one big present. Well to me, it is a present, nothing more exciting then trying to come up with a scary story for Halloween to scare family and friends. Ladies and Gentlemen, I present to you the third chapter in my adaptation for "Two minutes of Terror." I began this back in early July, I had an idea to use the settings that one of my favorite flash artists had used, and well, make a short story out of it. I lost interest after the second chapter, because I didn't feel that if I did continue, it wouldn't have the same enthusiasm I had earlier and that it would be a bore. It wasn't until I came across a great TV show called "American Horror Story." Seeing how every episode has something different, something fresh, something that was so random and enlightening to me, that I became excited.

Something stirred up in me when I watched the one episode about the murdered women that were forced to wear nurse uniforms. Now, I know that isn't a very good inspiration, but it wasn't until I saw the Piggy Man episode that got my creative juices flowing, and now, after three days of pouring through ideas about what I could do with my characters that I decided to six chapters, two chapters each showing how one character died. Besides being able to use different aspects of Horror, I was able to dig deeper into Urban Legends, which is where Chapters 3-4 is going to use. Please, read carefully and I will show up with Chapter four on Halloween. Muhahahahahahahahaha....

Chapter Three

"A dying man needs to die, as a sleepy man needs to sleep, and there comes a time when it is wrong, as well as useless, to resist."

Stewart Althop

"Shit!" "What?" "I'm going to be late for my shift at the morgue." I said as I began to put on my panties and bra back on. "Oh come on baby, you just need a night off." I shivered as he kissed my neck and put his wonderfully strong arms around my middle. "I'm off tomorrow; we'll go out for a date." "Promise?" "Promise." I kissed my husband and finished getting dressed; I shivered as I looked out at the full moon from the bedroom window. I didn't need a reminder that I would be putting on my soft, but warm, black trench coat.

 Little did I know how tonight’s events were going to unfold, or how I would only play a small part in this dreadful tale. My name is Casey Wood, M.D. Ya, I know, a Doctor that works in the morgue, if life could be any more ironic I would just might as well believe that pigs fly. I’m twenty-five, five foot six, slim, blond, blue, green eyes, a nice smile, and I should add happily married to a wonderful man that is always constantly horny. Oh well, it’s nice to be able to rule over him with what I have, he gets a nice reward for being obedient.

 The only reason I was down in that cold basement was because I was an assistant to the ever-famous Dr. John Seymour, he was looking for help, and I was looking for a place to work. Therefore, I put in for the job, and surprise, surprise, I get a call, get interviewed, and get the job. He’s really not that bad to work for really, he works during the day, and I get the nights, works out for the both of us.

The roads tonight were rather scarce of other vehicles and pedestrians, but then again, I do have to keep reminding myself that I moved to a middle of nowhere town that didn't have much to offer. But, however, it is quiet, no real crime, the locals are very friendly, and I never thought that me and my husband would be able to eat all of the Jell-O and turkey dinners that were brought over.

So no, I really can’t complain, wouldn't be very helpful, especially since I moved halfway across the country to get where I am now. I pulled into the hospital parking lot and cursed again. I forgot to get some hot coffee at the convenience store down the street, handsome kid works days there, goes by the name of Jason. He’s a local historian buff, but nervous and shy around girls. I wish the best of luck for him.

I grab my purse and keys, and double-checked that I left nothing in the car before I locked it. Last time I forgot my purse and keys and then had to explain to the police officer what had happened. He helped me out with an old coat hanger, and I was saved from going to jail for trying to break into my own vehicle. The hospital is the same as it always has been, same gray brick, same rectangle windows, and same tired looking yellow curtains.

Sometime back in nineteen fifty-seven, Black Ridge Sanitarium was construction, ran by the state, many unlawful practices were committed here. Some of the patients were never even sick, but were healthy and innocent. Only being used for illegal surgeries to learn more about the human anatomy, some of the Doctors performing the operations didn't use anesthetic at all, but rather enjoyed the pain and suffering they were implementing on their illegal operations. However, the past is the past, now this place, as far as I know is very safe, what a fool I was…

I greeted Marcy, the head Nurse that worked behind the main desk at night; she looked like my fifth grade school teacher, with the wrinkly, pale looking skin. Hair pulled painfully back into a bun, no lipstick, no make-up, everything except her attitude made her look mean and well, evil. In fact, she was the sweetest old woman with the biggest heart, I ever did meet, just have to get past the exterior and get a good look at the interior. Several doctors were discussing something over a coffee break as I passed the break room; hospital coffee is not something I would recommend unless you have nothing else to keep you up at night.

As I turned the corner to go down the hall to the elevator, I was assaulted by yelling and screaming. Two patients were in the hall, and by the looks of them both, they weren't quite aware of what they were doing. “BLOODY MARY, BLOODY MARY, BLOODY MARY…” “HERE PIGGY, PIG, PIG, HERE PIGGY, PIG, PIG…” The female patient that was yelling Bloody Mary, was a rather lanky looking teenager, skinny, dirty black hair, and yellow skin. The male patients who was yelling Here Piggy Pig, Pig, was a rather bald, pudgy looking man who looked to be in his late forties, and his skin was a rather sickly white looking color. Both were still yelling at the corner mirror when two orderlies grabbed their arms and attempted to lead them away.

The girl started to suddenly cry, and to my discomfort it looked like her face had been scratched repeatedly, leaving her blind in both eyes. The man adamantly refused to leave the hallway, yelling about Piggy Man was coming for them and that we were all going to die. I watched the depressing and rather agonizing scene for the next few minutes, waiting for the orderlies to carefully but forcefully take the very disturbed patients out of the hall, as the teenager was being led back to her room she suddenly cried out. “SHE IS COMING!”

That was enough for me as I practically sprinted down the hallway and pressed the button to go down to the basement. It wasn't until I got into the elevator and the doors closed that I allowed myself to breathe. More like gasp at the air I had denied myself when I ran, but as the elevator descended I realized that I allowed myself to be affected by the scene with the two disturbed patients. That really wasn't like me, but maybe it was the mood when I entered, it felt drab and depressing instead of the usual cheerfulness.

Sullen and rather depressed when the door opened to my work place, I felt that all life had ceased to exist in this dimension called The Morgue. “How have my dead been doing?” I asked to just break the silence that had been plaguing me. No one answered, didn't expect them to, they were dead, and the dead were better listeners then most living people I knew. I put my purse down and checked the time on the wall clock at the far end of the basement. The harsh glare from the fluorescent lighting made it a little difficult to read but 7:15 was the time. Fifteen minutes ago, I was worrying about how I was going to stay up, now, all I wanted to do was do my job, go home, and snuggle underneath my covers with my cat.

Now between you and me, the fresh corpses that came in during the day were kept in large metal boxes, put on metal stretchers that slid in and out of them. Nothing covering them besides a sheet for dignity, naked underneath as the day they were born. The room is about as cold as a refrigerator, making it necessary to wear some sort of sweater while you work. It helps keep the bodies from decomposing and well, smell. I don’t know if you've ever smelled a dead body, but just think of putrid pizza coupled with raw fish gone bad. Ya, it’s that bad, believe me on that.

The first corpse that I inspected was a woman in her mid-fifties, apparently died from a heart attack in the ambulance. Poor thing, she looked like she didn't go peacefully, her mouth still open in a state of pain, her eyes where once the caring soul that was tortured was gone. Leaving behind an empty house, and for someone to bury, cry over, cut open, or just ignore. I talked to her as I began to go over what was written down, now this is where my job comes in. I am to do a dissection of the body, to make sure the cause of death was natural or not, weighing organs and such. I pulled out my mini recorder and looked over the woman.

“Chelsey Anna Richards, female, died at approximately 3:52 P.M. on October twenty-first, two thousand and twelve. Patient appears to be fifty-five in age, no lacerations located on the body. Birthmark on right shoulder in the shape of a star has white hair, blue eyes.” I paused and studied the clipboard from which I was reading. I was about to continue when something caught my eye, a blur so fast, I wasn't even sure if it was real. I looked around for a moment, seeing if it would happen again, it didn't.

I sighed; I must have been really stressed because when I looked down to continue my report, she was gone. Nothing was on that metal stretcher, when I looked up to see where the body went everything was tinted red. A dark and light red where the normal color should have been, “No, this isn't happening…” I told myself. That was when I heard some squealing and grunting, that of a pig. The hairs on my body stood up when I took a step back and bumped into something.

I turned around slowly, telling myself that it was only wall, and when I did, I screamed out in fear. A large looking man, with a pigs head was standing before me; he was wearing a butcher’s apron and holding a very large, nasty looking cleaver covered in dry blood. I swear our eyes met, and something inside of me broke as I took a large leap backwards. Knocking over the stretcher and tripping me when I tried to run. I yelped in pain as the large Pig man took a step forward and squealed loudly, the cleaver raised into the air, with my life flashing before my eyes.

I put my arms up and closed my eyes as tears ran down my face as the cleaver swung down and chopped off my arms, leaving only bloody stumps below my elbows. I howled in pain and terror as the Pig man raised up his cleaver again, my blood running down the sharp blade, and I cried harder than before, begging, pleading for my life. However, it was not to be, I could picture the deranged, sadistic smile behind the mask. I watched in slow motion, as the blade came down, my eyes grew wide when I felt it bite into my neck and carried through to the other end.

They say when you are first beheaded, you don’t think, you can’t move, you can’t even say anything. I watched as I flew off and landed on my right ear, my body arched its back from the fountain of blood that painted the white tiles red from the severed neck. I watched helplessly as it then twitched from the death throes it was going through. It then went still, everything went still, my eyes closed, and that was all I could remember…

Another round of Hell...

I recently composed a story that was for a friend, now like I have stated before, I would not be making more erotic stories as I didn't feel very comfortable making them. But! It came out very well, or so I think, and I am putting it on here for all to read, it contains girl on girl, and tentacle action, also be warned that gore is in this story. This is an 18+ plus story, anyone caught reading this under 18 will be killed in a very painful way, now I introduce you to a story that took me awhile to do as I am still learning and perfecting my writing skill...

To Be United

A fantasy tale

By Justin Thomas

When we first begin our tale, one must first understand where one is coming from, or going, or staying in some cases. For in this tale of vile gore and the sleazy sultriness of which you will be introduced to two characters, two of which will die, and it might be enjoyable or disturbing.

It was a dark night, the clouds blackened with the coming of a Eastern Wind, that was chilling the way before its Master, streaks of lightning made for a show that could never be rivaled. It was quiet; the crickets were hiding in the cracks of an old Mansion, in which nothing living was stirring. But yet, this quietness was engulfed by the past memories of its past owners, where laughter, crying, yelling, passionate words spoken by the fire place, or in a bedroom, where two bodies laid intertwined in the most primitive of passions. The storm got closer and still nothing stirred, for in this deserted countryside, the living had passed on into death, or a form of death.

Yes, I am talking about the living dead, nothing that could ever be real, where authors, and directors, dreamt about it, where musicians and cartoonists made everlasting melodies that made an impression on the entire human race. However, where we are now, you will only get a glimpse into this world that is shrouded in mystery, even when everything seems to be explained. The Umbrella Corporation was the world’s leading venture into science, where every aspect of it was studied. Nevertheless, greed and corruption soon took root, and the once thriving company made plans to make a virus, a virus that would wipe out the entire human race, but this plan was for money only. An antidote was being developed when things went haywire.

An A.I. went rogue under Raccoon City, killing every scientist and guard in the underground bunker that was like an upside down beehive. A woman named Alice escaped from there, she was the antidote that had been worked on tirelessly, but on this dreadful night, she was currently in Japan, taking out another group of Umbrella that had hidden itself below ground to wait for the living dead to decompose completely. But that story shall wait as well, for now, we shall return to our original story, where death shall claim two lives, and leave two more heart broken…

“I see him, walking toward your general direction Jill.” Claire spoke silently into the microphone headset that miraculously still survived from everything that she had been through during her time spent hunting down a sighting of The Executioner. Which had turned into a chase, and now, after hours spent killing and running from everything that wanted to maim, slit, behead, or take over her body and the body of her partner Jill Valentine, they were down to just him, and them. Jill was hiding in the bushes on the south part of the front lawn, a rocket launcher was aimed at the beast in front of her, waiting for the finger to pull its trigger back and launch a deadly attack.

“When should I engage?” Jill replied breathlessly, her nervousness in her voice could be heard in the feedback. “Wait until he gets close enough so that you can’t miss.” Claire replied a little sarcastically, when they both agreed to this plan, she should have been the one to be the bait and Jill the one to attack from above. The darkened balcony was empty, the wind and lightning in the distance was a perfect cover for any noise that she made, for they would finish this for the last time. The Executioner got closer, apparently its lack of sight made up for any sound from the bushes when Jill moved. “Twenty feet away Claire, he’s close!” “Hold steady, almost have him…”

A large roar was then heard, breaking the thickened silence and tension in the air, and The Executioner charged toward Jill, where she panicked and fired the Rocket Launcher, the mini missile rushed toward its target and struck its intended area, the chest. Where he was flown back from the explosion and landed on the ground, his large axe struck the side of the building and embedded itself into the stone. The large giant creature roared in pain and managed to get back up before being knocked back down as Jill had loaded another missile and waited until it got back up. “Claire! Now what do we do!?” “Keep firing Jill! It’s the only way we have!” Claire growled angrily, not sure what to do but try to blow the thing to kingdom come. She did have a M21 Sniper Rifle handy though and she was trying to line up a shot.

With all of the smoke and dust flying in the air though, and the wind blowing stronger with the storm coming in, it was going to take a Hell of a shot to get in the bastards head. “Claire! I only have one Mini left!” “Use it!” Jill grunted in frustration as her hair, which was normally in a ponytail, was in her face, having come lose in her adventure to end The Executioner once and for all. The monster groggily got up again, its dogged persistence of trying to get at the living would of made anyone lesser then Claire and Jill run away and want to live another day.

‘Come on, damn it, I need a clear shot.’ Claire chanted inwardly, itching to fire her last bullet, and end this nightmare. “Firing!” Jill shouted out, and pulled the trigger, sending the last missile into the beast from Hell, its flesh was already damaged, and it continued to roar and yell in pain and anger. But just as the Missile hit the monster, Claire fired her last shot, its intended target, its head.

Time seemed to slow down as the two devices of war, the implements that had held hope and damnation from both ends of the spectrum, Claire unconsciously held her breath as she watched wide-eyed as it seemed that this was it, this was going to be the very end of The Executioner. Jill just watched, ready to fire her custom made 9mm Glock pistol in case things didn't go as planned, if she was going to die, she was going to die fighting. To the disbelief of both though, the missile and the bullet struck home, effectively killing the beast for the last and final time. Jill jumped up, started shouting, and screaming at the heavens with joy, as Claire was taking in deep breaths and let herself enjoy the moment at hand. It was done, the monster was dead, and now their mission was complete.

“HQ come in, The Executioner is dead, I repeat, The Executioner is dead, need evac, over?” Static came back, and she called again, nothing. “Jill, can you get HQ, I can’t get anything.” “One moment.” Came the reply. Jill tried to call in but again, there was nothing but static. “Claire, we are going to have to take shelter and wait out the storm.” “Have any idea where?” “No, but we can at least look for clean clothes and a hot shower.” Jill said, looking down at the slain beast, it did not move. However, something else did, something that had been watching the two female humans as soon as they set foot in the woods, and it was hungry…

The two heroes’ walked around the now deserted mansion, avoiding the corpses and blood pools that had come from the ragged bullet holes in their now very dead bodies. They went upstairs and managed to find a large guest bedroom with clean clothes, male, and a working shower, no hot water. Jill smiled as she shivered under the cold water coming down on her naked skin; it felt good to have time to herself, especially after a hard mission. She didn't notice or hear the door open and figure come in, nor did she notice the curtain open a little bit and the figure get in behind her.

She jumped a little bit as Claire wrapped her arms around her middle and kissed the back of her neck, a small moan escaped her lips. “Mmm, now that feels good.” Jill said softly, having her secret lover with her was worth being in both worlds. She was bi, but she just needed that special touch that only a woman could provide. “I bet it does my love.” Claire responded gently, her hands rubbing her flat stomach, just starting to get her lover aroused, Jill couldn't stand it and turned around, the cold water peppered her back, but the stinging sensation didn't matter, as her lips were against Clair’s, their tongues rolling off one another as they rubbed their breasts together.

The cold water was made hot as their body heat soared through the roof, nothing stopped them as Jill broke the kiss and began to suck on Clair’s nipples, her tongue rolling off of each one, noticing how aroused her partner was she greedily sucked and bit the hard nipples that were hers for the taking. Fingers ran down Clair’s stomach and she arched her back as Jill’s fingers found her clit and began to rub it, she moaned in ecstasy and just let Jill fulfill her right then and there.  Nothing prepared her though as Jill’s fingers went into her wet, and eager sex, two hard, slim fingers that pumped into her excited body, making her even wetter for her partner.

Jill smiled, as Claire seemed to be deep in ecstasy, the water no longer mattered as her tongue rolled around those cherry red nipples, her fingers pumping into the hot and eager body of Claire Redfield. Those glassy eyes filled with pleasure as Jill had taken control of her body, and she would do anything to be in that place where Heaven was the most intimate for her. Time seemed to fly by as they moved from the shower to the bed where both of their pussies were rubbing together; the hot liquid that was made was the best lubricant for the both of them.

The storm had hit the mansion full force, but they didn't care, they were in the throes of passion and ecstasy, their bodies pulsing as one as Claire was trembling again, her orgasm rocked her body once again, taking Jill for the ride as her legs locked her against her. She screamed in pleasure as her back arched, and she bucked hard against Jill’s pussy that had continued to bring her to heaven and beyond. Jill screamed with her as her own orgasm achieved an ecstasy that she wouldn't have done easily with any man. As the two women writhed together in their sensual pleasures, the being was watching through cracks in the wall, its hunger for food that was held back as it watched the show that the two human females had put on for it.

It was then that all Hell broke loose, the two women who brains were numbed from the pleasures that they had just endured didn't notice it at first. But as the walls burst forth with tentacles Jill yelled out in surprise, but it was too late, nothing could be done as they were forcefully taken off of the bed, naked, and without any weapons their struggling was useless as the grip on them wasn't weakened in any way. More tentacles appeared and entered their bodies with force, their mouths, pussies, and asses overfilled with the abundance of their enemy. Nothing could prepare them for the pain they endured as they began to pump without any mercy into them.

Repeatedly, their bodies were slammed with the massive tentacles that had invaded their bodies, suffocating them, choking them, filling them. The tentacles went further and further into them, filling up every available area inside their bodies. Their skin being stretched from the insides as it then exploded its burning hot liquid cum inside of them. Over filling the already exhausted and abused bodies, then blinding pain exploded everywhere…

The bodies of Jill and Claire were ripped apart from the inside, blood and guts flying everywhere, the mangled pieces of raw flesh was now ready for feeding, and the destroyed parts of the two heroes’ were sucked into the gaping holes in the wall to the beast that was now feeding its hunger…

Apology Accepted

For some time now, I have been dealing with hatred, depression, greed, envy, and it just consumed me like some monster from under the bed, that was tormenting me with how I would taste. And he says I taste esquisite, like the finest ambrosia wine to ever be sampled. (I prefer Scotch myself but that is for another time.) So I just wanted to say that I am now back to writing, and publishing my friends stories that they give me. So first, a little something I wrote...
Brother Darkness

"Again I writhe upon the backs of pain.
Where thy open arms greet me with such succulent suffering, that I could dare not say no.
 The blackness opens up the maw of misery, and I embrace it like a lost brother.
You see, but do not see, you hear, but do not actually hear!
A trap I daresay for the steely mind of wonder that is truly mine.
This world that is twisting, turning, lurching, plummeting to a demise that death herself could not fathom
for she is but an actor in this play called life!
 Hark! I pray thee, do not let my fortitude leave me in this blackest hour of the night, for I know that it is my last!
My memories consume me with a soul, my thoughts turn the sweetest of innocence into a monster so hideous
that even I cringe to look upon thy ghastly face of my own mortality.
My heart is forever frozen in a state where laughter and sorrow face each other in a battle to the death of what I once was.
 For I dream of the terrible, the unforgiving, the agonizing, the wort that festers until it explodes
in nothing more but the crimson that is my own spirit that shall never flower!
 For I am but a man, who shall never again feel the light of day against my flesh,
only my brother darkness shall see me for who I really am..."

And now, the second chapter of Blood Raven 117's story, and have a good week people.

Chapter II

Death Of a Guardsmen

   Larnegin was smiling for the first time in weeks. Sitting down next to the others around the Guitar, he looked at the rank pins in the cardboard box as the guitar played a soft melody. Janeson peeked over and smiled as well. Larnegin looked over to the others and they all stared back at him. Larnegin was speechless, a officer was meant to be a charismatic, brave, and strong leader. He was not much of any of those things, he was tactically sound and loyal all the way to the Emperor of mankind, but he was no Sergeant.

   The men stayed silent as they saw Larnegin tentatively pick up the pins and slowly attach them to his collar, a velvet strip was on his helmet for just this thing. Once he had attached the pin, he  carefully applied the sewing adhesive to his arm for the patch. Looking up from his newly done work the men were smirking. Larnegin smiled in reply and all of them busted out laughing. Calming down Larnegin's unease diminished. Smiling now, he realized he may be the right man. He hoped he could prove that to be true.

   After the round of laughter. Larnegin went to his own bunk and taking off his boots collapsed into his bed. He had been on the night watch and been up for more then sixteen hours and he was dead on his feet from fatigue. He would give just about anything for a bath and a soft bed, but this was all he had. Rolling over and getting comfortable he swiftly fell unconscious.

   About ten minutes later he was woken up by Caref and was urged on his feet. All the men inside were whispering low and checking weapons and equipment. Larnegin's head throbbed and all he heard was the loud whine of his ears protesting at a loud noise and being waken up. Sergeant Caref was walking, Larnegin heard nothing but he followed his mouth. They were to attack the enemy soon. His hearing returning Larnegin started to hear loud whistles and shrieks as their artillery opened fire on the Chaos mutants positions. He heard even louder explosions as they kissed dirt and sent it flying to clatter in dark black clumps on the ground.

   Getting his boots on as fast as his cold hands would allow Larnegin slid them on and laced them. Janeson handed him a roll of tape and he tapped his boots closed so water would enter them. Looking around Sergeant Caref began to brief them on the section they were going to hit, it was supposedly a weaker point in the trench line, they were to take it with all their strength, and hopefully from there lead a charge to the enemy AA guns and eliminate them. Tactica command had estimated around five hundred mutants were manning those ditches in the dirt and less then one hundred manned gunnery posts along the Kilometer stretch. Caref's platoon had been volunteered for pushing there way in and opening a gap. Larnegin hoped those men and woman cozy behind the lines were right about their estimations, other wise they may not live long enough to see the next sun.

   Larnegin fastened his bowled helmet around his head as he ducked his head through the gas curtains followed by the rest of the platoon. Crouch walking they heard answering artillery from the mutant lines, compared to the big explosions created by the Imperial Basilisks and Earth Shaker pieces they were nothing more then a hand grenade exploding next to a super nova. Or that's what it seemed like. Getting to their exit point Caref got in front of Larnegin and smiled at his new second. “Ready Corporal?” He asked no longer talking formally. “Yes sir!” Larnegin nodded as he assented. Clutching his Lasgun he did the only thing  a sane man in a trench does, pray.

   Then their signal came, three loud whistles in order marked the mad dash of a charge across no man's land. Hopping over the trench the basilisks fired smoke canisters to cover their advance. They were disguised as gas canisters and had been fired into the enemy lines and on no man's land. Just in case the mutants had fired their own grenades Caref had ordered everyone to put on their masks. No one argued at the necessity of this. Strapping on hoods and gas masks they charged forward with all due haste. Mortar shells dropped amongst them but no heavier weapons fired thankfully. They had no idea where the charge was going to hit. A lucky mortar hit nearby disintegrated a pair of men, one liquidized, the other torn to shreds as the heavy round came crashing down. The men around the explosion had only minor wound and got up breathlessly spraying antiseptic on the surely infected wounds if they could and running when they could not.

   Larnegin had his lasgun point first with his gleaming bayonet pointing out as well. The smoke was so thick it was near impossible to see where you walked. Charging forward he fell right in the trench toppling two mutants at a fixed gun. One, evidently the loader, had a pistol drawn as the other tried to throttle him with its mutated hands and tentacles. Larnegin fired point blank into the one trying to grab him, then he swung around quickly and started to stab the one mutant with a pistol before he could fire trying desperately, and almost in a panic, to kill it. He heard more men drop around him and turned to see most of the platoon made it. Letting out a cheer at they cut down the mutants at the trench and overrunning the place. It was too easy thought Larnegin. Then the smoke started to clear and just 50 meters to his left down the walkway he saw a horde of them, convering on them to end their lives.

   Larnegin nearly froze at the sight of the disgusting and horrifying creatures before him, many were twisted parodies of man, lurching and running down the trench line. Many had extra appendages, limbs, even heads. Some also had twisting tentacles for arms, scales, fur, spines, any thing that could be thought of they had it. Like some twisted display of all things in nature. Then he saw it. Saw the creature that would send fear to the deepest part of a man. Sergeant Caref broke his fear filled stare, “FIRST RANK FIRE! SECOND RANK FIRE! NOW DAMN YOU!” He screamed into the vox and air raising his purring chain-sword high into the sky. Immediately troopers formed two ranks of men. Larnegin got in the front rank and kneeled down. “Fire!” immediately hot lazer death spat at the enemy.

   Larnegin fired, feeling the satisfying recoil of discharge. Red lines of energy shot at the mutants, sending the first score down into the muck to be trampled by the press. They didn't even have to kill them in their first shot, just knock em over and the rest kill them with stampeding feet. Larnegin kept his rate of fire up. Already men at the sides who did not form a rank began to fire into the press full auto. He saw as he fired, a things head explode in black brackish blood and gore. He realized he had set his lasgun to full power, over kill for the mutants, but it was to late to switch it now as they got closer now only twenty-five meters away.

   Larngein fired his last shot then his gun fizzled, his energy cell had run out of juice and there was no time to reload. Despite the heavy toll the mutants suffered, they still came in with more then enough numbers to butcher them all. Seeing now up close the thing that was so dreadful. It was three times the height of a man at least, and four times as wide. It had a ghastly head with a pair of horns that were dirty with blood and grim. Its eyes, a pure white like the snow from Vernesta's beautiful mountains. The thing was now barely five meters away roaring loudly. Tentacles rose from its back flapping uselessly as nerves spasmed, its large meat corded, muscle bound arms ready to crush him. Then salvation came in the form of Commissar Jard.

   The Commissar fired his lug mounted grenade launcher at the Chaos spawn. Larngein closed his eyes and covered his face as meat and blood splattered across his body sending him on his arse. He saw how the thing exploded from its back sending it crumpling in half like it was cut in half. Now he would truly give anything for a bath as he rose up from the trench floor's muck. Looking around Commissar Jard was screaming obscenity’s to the enemy as he lead 5th platoon in to the fray. The mutants lost all hope as they saw the giant Chaos spawn die in such a spectacular fasion. Slaughtered as surely as the mutants would have slaughtered the Imperials they had taken the trench. Looking out Larnegin smiled at the Commissar. The man met his gaze and his grin was wicked in the extreme. Jard looked every ounce of imperial discipline. His uniform was clean, with a green sash around his waist and over his shoulder, he had several decorations of honor on his chest over his heart shining brightly with pride, daring the enemy to shoot at him. His great black and red trimmed great coat flew out behind him as the wind took up from the east. His cap was peaked and had the regimental pin of the Vernesta Marines and had the Imperial Aquila on it. His face was a grim set of determination, his black trimmed hair swept under his cap. His eyes shown a dark blue that spoke out brightly to his white pinched skin. He looked every amount of a hero.

   Larnegin realized he had his mouth agape and closed it. The Commissar smiled more friendly like and said, “Corporal, good to see you.” The big man smiled and jumped off into the trench. He turned off his power blade and sheathed it. Larnegin stood at attention and saluted with a shaking hand.  The commissar smiled much more friendly like and said, “Don't stand gawping boy! Reload!” Larnegin shook with sudden realization and began to do so. “Sergeant! Who's still kicking?” Jard asked Caref and they went to the side. Now the immediate battle around them was over Larnegin realized the battle raging around. He saw artillery firing from all sides and the red and green exchanges of las fire. Setting his power gauge lower Larnegin saw Janeson smiling at him. Larnegin couldn't help but smile back at his close friend as he realized what happened. He had just stared down a Imperial Commissar with not a hint of fear in his eyes. They both laughed. 'What a strange day this day is.' He thought.

Oi Oi

Alright all you readers out there, I have a special guest writer that wants to see if he is good enough for hopefully a full publication of his works. He is a good friend of mine, so please, be kind with the criticism and give it up for Blood Raven 117, and his story; Death Of A Guardsmen.

Chapter I

Chapter I

Death of a Guardsmen


Larnegin Perenza was sitting on one of the many wood supports for his trench. Of course they weren't called wood, but flak board cut specifically for these newly dug trenches. It has only been two emperor damned months in this stinking mired mid pit of death and hell. Looking up the trenches small view-port built into the lip for periscopes he saw the blasted crater fittingly called “No man's land”. This is how a guardsmen died for the god emperor, unloved and uncared for in the stinking black dirt ground of this accursed planet called Sigma Seven Fourteen, or some other planet who's name would scarcely be remembered.


It was not all bad, he knew that after six grueling months here they would be shipped out for fresher units from orbit. They thankfully had air superiority, not like it mattered much as the damned creatures rightfully named mutants had somehow gotten AA guns online. Large, and menacing they towered behind the front and tertiary lines of the enemy’s trenches, mockingly out of range of their Air and artillery support. In the enemy's front trench he saw spikes and body’s and heads from men who died in battle on their lines, set as grim, vomit inducing reminders of the evil of Chaos. His eyes drawing back now he saw the details of what was in the no man's land. Every where he saw craters slowly filling with rapidly stagnating water. He saw the occasional bloated dead body of both sides. He saw where he last hid with his other squaddies last charge, a shallow crater with rusting razor wire covering the lip. Commissar almost shot them for cowardice, but he saved the man's life as he informed him of the smart thing and kicked his legs down just in time for the troopers behind him to be incinerated by plasma fire. The commissar had a small change of heart then. Wasn't long before they were forced back again. Pulling out of that crater he saw every where discarded and degrading equipment, every once in a while he saw the lines of barbed and razor wire around.


He was brought back to the trench when someone patted his shoulder. Looking round suddenly surprised he fell on his arse as he slipped off the support. Laughter dwindled around as the troopers around him had a laugh at his expense. Not like it matter, looking at his comrades around him he saw them grimy and muddy just like him. Their laughs were choked out and hoarse as they warmed their hands around heat packs and small lamp fires in the dawning light. The man who patted him was one of his closest friends, Janeson Corren, a handsome looking man in his thirties with tight cropped black wet hair and a impish look to his face and blue eyes of ice. “Hey Larns!” He said with a enthusiasm rarely seen in the veteran soldiers of the 10th Vernesta Marines. Looking around the trench space he sighed. It was built on a tiny hill if you could call that, on the front trench. Looking to his left he saw to the end of the fire step and the heavy weapon, then 5 more meters then it suddenly zagged out for artillery security. Seeing around he saw the flak board newly cut hold back the dirt. To his right he saw some men lighting Iho smokes as they called them, they had a black end and a white shaft. The black part was where you sucked to get the smoke from. They called it obscura and was technically a contraband, but no one enforced that rule saying how it was a waste to write them up for something so small.


The fire step was well worn and had dried dirt caked where boots had once stood. He saw one man currently on it using a periscope searching the enemy lines. The man was also Venestian in ancestry. He had the flying black trench-coat , and the bowled helmet that they were all equipped with. If the man were to face him he would see underneath his Carapace armor for trench storming, and the more flexible but strong flak padding for his arms and legs. He had his lasgun slung along his back. Seeing this Larnegin returned to what he had been doing, cleaning his own weapon. It was a rifle about 1.5 meters long, longer then his arm. It's stock was a wooden stock made from a fine wood on his home called Carensta. Feeling it he smiled as he remembered the soft wood trees of home. They were always so nice. He knew he may never return to that place once more. But that was the life of a servant of the mighty Imperium. “Age amicus meus!” His friend said in high gothic. Loosely translated meant, “Up my friend.” Looking at Janeson, Larnegin finally gave in.


“Whats wrong?” He asked his close friend. He smiled and motioned for him to start walking with him. “Sarge wants ya. Didn't ask why, he didn't say.” Larnegin nodded. Walking past a sign to his left towards no man's land it said in his native tongue, “Осторожно! Мины вперед!“ A warning of what lies ahead. “When did da' sappers get the mines out?” Larnegin asked, “The sappers didn't do a damn thing.” Larnegin knew what that meant. Chaos mines, the worst mine of all. If the boom doesn't get ya the infection sure will.


Then Janeson took a left into a bunker built into the wall. Pushing past the gas curtains the bunker was a barracks for his fellow members of his platoon. Smiling he heard soft singing along with a guitar playing. Looking over he saw in the corner men singing the military's anthem from where they all came from. They all sang with great pride even as they sang with great hope. Larnegin passed a mirror where someone had just shaved as a lukewarm bowl of water was below the mirror. Looking into it he saw his face for the first time in at least a day, he had a jutting chin that rounded on the bottom but gave him a vulpine like look to him. His cheeks were drawn and pale giving him a almost sickly look to him as well. His eyes were sunken but did not diminish the piercing gaze of someone who was driven, just deep sapphire green pools of determination. His hair was cut short and black white like many from his home. He also saw he needed to wash as well.


Janeson stood infront of Sargent Caref and saluted at attention, “Sir as you requested.” He said with his trademark enthusiasm. Saluting back with precision he said, “At ease Janeson, get yourself some rest.” Janeson nodded and went to the others and added in his voice with a corner stone of tune, “.......If death don't bring you fear, then death ain't brought by no marine!” They all coursed with pride swelling. Standing infront of his Sargent, Larnegin waited for the message, “Larn how have you been?” Caref said as he returned the salute and motioned for him to sit. The bunker was a bug out barrow, but the men did what they could to keep it clean and tidy from all the dirt. The sarge was a rare breed in the officers core, hell the whole regiments command structure was. The officers cared for the men like they were their offspring themselves, many other regiments looked with envy in their eyes as they felt the pressing whip of their arrogant officers in their backs.


“Fine sir. Glad you asked. I got my inoculations and all. Whats this about?” Caref sighed and sat up more attentively. “Commissar Jard is commending you for your valor in saving his life last time. He also notes that he wants you to be field promoted for some reason.” Larnegin was shocked. It was rare for promotions like these, especially from someone like Jard. Jard was a hard man to impress and as he had seen many great heroes and soldiers. He had carefully cultivated himself as a good army Chaplin and commissar, dealing out both battle field reprimands and punishments and moral and religious support often unseen by others of his cadre. Many respected him as a good man. “Now we have no platoon openings for you, but even if we did I feel you are unready for command,” Caref brought Larnegin out of his mental dreaming, “But the Commissar wants you higher up. So I'm promoting you to Corporal, I will be taking you under my wing after to train.” Caref smiled. He had been in need of a second in command after his previous man died in the last charge. Caref then heard some chatter on the vox radio. “Excuse me Larn. You should go and get some rest as well.” Larnegin was about to leave when Caref stopped him again and said, “Oh and before I forget.” He got a small cardboard box out, “Welcome to the officers cadre Corperal Perenza.......”

I have this song stuck in my head...

Alright, so I've recently been camping and fishing with my family during the annual fishing derby that's held there every year. Stayed their for three days and was thrilled to come back to the internet, and civilization, oh how I love a hot shower...Anyways, during the time that I wasn't fishing or just relaxing I was playing a favorite, old, game of mine. Metroid Fusion for the GBA, now, we all know how my mind works, if I start to think about something, well...I come up with ideas for a story, for this particular idea started out with something simple, Samus just floating in space on her ship, and then quickly got out of hand as her ship got invaded and was then turned into a sex slave for some pirates that survived the initial blast of the space station. But thinking about all of this, I was reminded that if this indeed happened, why would the X parasite use Samus as a play thing instead of trying to kill her?

Well all answers will hopefully be answered in this 18+  story that I try not to do anymore, but it happened, my best regards to you as you read this, it was one interesting story. Also one last thing, this was made in a couple of hours at night, while everyone else was sleeping, so don't try to get all holier then thou on me for something that I made on the fly. Again, one last thing, I swear, if their is enough commotion about this for a second story line to this, I shall think about writing another one, now enjoy the story and fap, you sick bastards.

The Dirty X

By Justin Thomas

"Samus, there are no more Bio Signs from the initial destruction of this ship."

"Adam, are you sure? I don't want to leave this job undone and have to return back."

"Yes Samus, I am certain, now, sleep is critical for you after your mission, I will be powered down for diagnostics and repairs."

"Very well, night."

Samus stared at the computer screen a bit longer before standing up and stretching, before ambling off to the side bunk where she normally slept. The initial fights with both her infected suit and the infected Omega Metroid had made her sore, bruising showed where she had been hit, the dark purple blotches on her normally flawless, peach colored skin was a reminder how many times she had been close to dying. "Open." She said absentmindedly as the side bunk slid out noiselessly, her clothing only consisted of a pair of blue panties and a see through blue bra. She was alone, only have Adam as her guide as they were going back to Earth to report back to the Federation as to what happened.

The bed underneath her back was soft, perfect for her sore body, she looked up at the ceiling which had a window presenting her a beautiful picture of the stars and galaxies outside. It was times like this that helped her think, and to fall asleep, being a bounty hunter, the most feared among the criminal, but left her lonely for some type of companion. A family or lover would only get in the way, or be used against her should her enemies know of them. She sighed as her eyelids gently slid closed, her chest soon hardly moving as she fell into a deep sleep. 

Adam was back online after monitoring Samus's heart and breathing, and contacted the Galactic Federation, where he was patched into a secured network. "Adam, I am well pleased how you have lulled Samus into thinking that you're her friend." The computer responded back. "I was programmed to do as told." "Never mind that, do you have some of the Pirates on the sonar?" "Yes, they are very active, they survived in some wreckage after the initial destruction of the station." "Are they still infected with X?" "I have a positive scanning  on the organisms." "Good, go get some and take them in tow with you." "What about Samus?" "They are for Samus." "I...Understand..." 

With that last sentence, Adam disengaged from the terminal and turned the ship around to where the pings from the sonar were the loudest. The inky blackness was blotted with the coloring of the stars on the ships outer hull as Adam positioned himself to where some flotsam was floating harmlessly. He checked the organisms one more time to make sure that they were still alive, the vacuum of space was most forgiving. The ship then partially docked on the largest part of the wreckage and used the ships gravity beam to pull up several survivors that were in perfect shape. The four specimens were curled into a fetus position as they were then held in stasis. The ship then undocked and flew off on it's original flight plan, the estimation to Earth was now four weeks away, a few hours would not be accounted for as they were overwritten with flight data. 

After surveying the creatures, and monitoring their breathing and heart beats, Adam was passive with the stasis that held the pirates in the back. If things got out of hand, Adam would be alerted and the creatures jettisoned back into space. Samus was still asleep, a good sign that she would not be up anytime soon. Adam turned himself off, his passive programming would keep the ship on the correct flight plan, and move out the way of any objects. 

A soft click was heard somewhere in the darkness, Samus didn't want to wake up, trying to move she felt arms and legs restrained by something hard. Groaning she opened one eye sleepily, and looked at the blurry, purple bird like creature before yawning and closing her eye. Her brain then registered it as a Zebesian, her eyes flew open and she tried to jerk at whatever was holding her. The pirate was not alone, three others were looking at her with their solid blue eyes. Their claws were open, having a short glance at her wrists and ankles she was currently stuck in a prison cell, the bindings on her were made of spent, solid uranium that was no longer radioactive. 

The leader continued to look at her, and she blushed slightly remembering her lack of dress, but then she glared back. "Whatever it is you want, I will not give you anything!" Her threat solid as her backing, whatever happened to Adam, she was alone. The leader cocked his head slightly and opened his bird like beak, the X parasite that was mimicking the host was learning how to try to speak. "Y-Yu." It stopped and looked at her almost expectantly in it's evolution. She sighed, if somehow she could communicate with her captors, she would hopefully gain her freedom. With that single thought in her mind she opened her mouth. "You...Will...Never...Get...Any...Thing...From...Me..." 

She stopped as the information was being collected, and the Pirate cocked his head again. "You are." She was what? This was starting to become mentally painful, her weight was evenly distributed, her back was wet from sweat, and she needed to go pee. The bindings wouldn't allow her to cross her legs so that she could hold herself better. The leader continued to register the words formed and put them into something she would understand. "You are mate." That got her attention...If she knew anything about this species, it was that the X parasite took over the host and the used the mimicked body to lure in its prey. The surgery that she had with the baby Metroid vaccine had allowed her to absorb the X for energy, even without her suit, her body was still able to do that simple function should the Zebesian clone lose its current form.

"Mate!? I am no ones mate!" She snapped, her blue eyes ablaze with hatred for what was said about her. "Mate...Yes, you are mate." She threw her weight against the bonds but nothing happened, she was going to be used, and she absolutely hated nothing more then being used. "No!" She cried out as her bra was ripped from her, her breasts hanging free now, her panties were next to go as they to were ripped from her helpless body. She blushed hard, both to embarrassment and to being subject to whatever she would have to endure. The X seemed to know what it was doing as all four took off her bonds and held her in a tight grip, forcing her to remain still was harder for them. She yelled in pain as she had managed to kick one pirate off her left leg, only to be shot, not enough to kill her, but only enough to damage her leg. 

It was in her nature to fight, to not give in to anything, not even to the mounting pressure of the hard enemies that she had come into contact. She used her good leg and tripped another pirate to her right. This time the pain from the weapon wasn't her leg, but on both her arms, she cringed as she fought the overwhelming agony that threatened to cripple her. This was then that she was kicked in the side, sending her flying into the side of the hull. She gasped as the air was knocked out of her, leaving her disorientated, as a claw picked her up by her throat, effectively cutting off her air supply. She gasped at the arm, her face growing red, as she was then punched hard and then let go, her right eye hurt like Hell, her nose felt broken and it was bleeding. 

A few minutes ago, she was a proud warrior, now she was on the floor, being beaten, her will still strong, her only desire was for revenge now. As she struggled to sit up a sideways kick to her head caused her to fly face first back into the hull. Her nose smashed, her eyes now in pain, she felt blood in her mouth and she coughed it up as she fell backwards onto her back. She could barely see as all four Zebesians looked down at her, talking in their own speech. Doing a mental check brought her some comfort, neither her arms or legs were broken, only her nose, and some cracked ribs it seemed. The rest was tissue damage, and the abuse she had suffered. Not having time to come up with a plan she was picked up by her hair roughly, which caused her to open her mouth to scream. 

When she did, a hard, thick, long, rubbery, and repulsing object was thrust into her mouth and down her throat. She coughed around it, the taste was making her gag, the smell was of rotten fish, but she had not control as it was backed out, and then thrust back in, her tongue held flat as one of the Pirates was forcing her to suck him. She had no idea that Zebesians had a member, let alone knew how to mate. Again and again, the smell and taste assaulted her senses, her breasts were being played with and she moaned in despair. Her hands were then picked up, and with resignation started to give two other pirates a hand job, her hair was still in the one that making her blow hims grasp, forcing her to take the entire thing in before backing out and ramming her throat. 

She had forgotten about the fourth one as she felt something hard, rub against her womanhood, it touched her clit and she yelled, but it was muffled as her mouth was being harshly used. Tears fell down her face as she felt his entire length fill her up, it's claws biting into her hips as it started to thrust hard and deep into her. She groaned as she felt her body react painfully, it was too much for her bladder though and she pissed shamefully as she was filly with his size and length. 

Her being being stuffed by two hard members, which didn't have any exoskeleton on them, but were soft, hot, throbbing members that were in her. Using her body, her hands for their own sick, and twisted pleasure. She kept her eyes closed as she felt her head being jerked harder, he was going to cum inside of her mouth, the thought that she would drink some of the X parasite made her enthusiastic, at least it would help her get her strength back. Her tongue rubbed the length of it as she opened her throat more, willing him to cum inside of her mouth and down her throat.

The Zebesian grunted, his member thickened as he slammed her face down all the way, the thick, hot, creamy liquid was one large blast as she drank down every drop, even licking the tip of it when he was done. She was panting as she felt some renewed energy, not enough to kick ass, but enough to stop feeling so much pain. The two pirates that she still had a handle on were then forced together as she took turns sucking one while jerking the other off. Her pussy was taking a pounding as the one behind her wasn't letting up. She had just got done drinking and licking the two pirates cum when a claw was around the back of her neck, forcing her to start riding the one still in her backwards. 

She moaned as she didn't care anymore what happened in this time and place, she was being filled and it felt goood. "More! Oh God More!" She panted as she felt her pussy squeeze around the member that was deep inside of her, she then arched her back as she came onto him, the Zebesian groaned with her, filling her womb with his seed, her belly extended out a little as he didn't pull out all the way. She could care less, the feeling was ecstatic, and she wanted more. 

Pushing her breasts together she licked some of the cum off of them. She could see this had a desired effect on the males around her. She smiled saucily as she had her arms on her sides. "Please...Give me more..." She begged as she was then pulled from the one she was sitting on, and then forced on her hand and knees, her pussy being filled up by another hard, member, she opened her mouth as one got on his kneed in front of her. Her mouth and throat accepting what was being given to her. She no longer was thinking of escape but of this sex, her enemies unlocking a deep passion and lust and desire deep inside of her. 

The End