10 Reaper
The last Chaos Marine, fueled by a primal rage that bordered on madness, swung his axe with a deafening roar. The air itself seemed to crackle with the force of the blow. But it was too slow. I moved like a phantom, a whisper of darkness, dodging the attack with inhuman grace.
My retaliation was swift and brutal. With a single, powerful kick aimed at his abdomen, I sent him flying through the air. The sickening crunch of bone and armor echoed as he slammed through the skeletal remains of three buildings before crashing to the ground in a crumpled heap.
I reappeared before him in a blink, reality warping around me. He was clutching his chest, blood bubbling from his lips. His helmet, cracked and leaking crimson, barely clung to his head.
Fear, raw and primal, flickered in his eyes. "W-what… what are you?" he stammered, his voice a strangled rasp.
A cold smile stretched across my lips. "Reaper," I said, my voice a metallic echo in my own ears.
The scythe rose, a blur of darkness against the ravaged cityscape. His scream was cut short, a choked gurgle lost in the wind.
There was no time to revel in the kill. With a surge of power, I rocketed towards the broken city gate, the taste of vengeance a metallic tang on my tongue.
Beyond the crumbling walls, the true horror unfolded. Bodies – Guardsmen, Space Marines, civilians – lay piled high in a macabre monument to the carnage. It was a grotesque pyre, a testament to the relentless hunger of the warp.
A distant scream, sharp and high-pitched, pierced the air. It came from about two clicks west. Without hesitation, I bolted towards the sound, a dark arrow arcing across the battlefield.
The scene that greeted me was a tableau of pure nightmare. Jek, his face etched with terror, held the child close to him, his lasgun barking a desperate challenge against the tide of daemons.
The woman, the mother – no. The sight was too much to process. She lay split in half, her insides spilling onto the scorched earth.
A primal roar erupted from my throat, a sound that echoed with a newfound power. The Bloodletters, grotesque parodies of humanity with razor-sharp claws and thirsting for carnage, turned towards me, their attention drawn by my sudden arrival.
Jek fired again, his shots finding their mark, but more daemons surged forward to replace the fallen. Just as they were about to engulf them, I landed in front of Jek and the child, a whirlwind of darkness and fury.
My scythe sang a deadly song, cleaving through the daemonic horde. Four fell in a single sweep, their corrupted flesh disintegrating into wisps of smoke as they were banished back to the warp.
My roar echoed back at the remaining Bloodletters, a challenge they eagerly accepted. They surged forward, a tide of gnashing teeth and barbed claws. But they were no match for my newfound power. My scythe spun like a whirlwind of darkness, carving a bloody path through their ranks. Lasgun fire from Jek's position added to the carnage, each shot finding its mark with deadly precision.
Jek didn't waste time admiring my handiwork. He knew this respite wouldn't last. He kept his lasgun trained on the remaining daemons, his face a mask of grim determination as he shielded the child with his own body. The child, thankfully, remained oblivious to the horrors around him, clutching Jek's chest with a death grip, his eyes squeezed shut.
Then came the sound that sent a jolt of primal fear through me – a roar that shook the very ground. A Bloodthirster, a towering monstrosity of rage and fury, emerged from behind the daemonic horde. Ten meters of pure muscle and daemonic essence, it charged at me with earth-shattering speed.
The impact of its attack sent me flying backwards, the scythe slipping from my grasp. Pain, a dull throb beneath the layer of newfound resilience, flared in my chest. But I was up in an instant, fueled by a cold fury that mirrored the Bloodthirster's own.
With a snarl that ripped through the air, I charged back at the daemon. It met my attack head-on, its massive axe stopping my scythe dead in its tracks. The clash of our weapons sent shockwaves rippling through the ground, kicking up dust and debris.
We were locked in a brutal dance of death, our blows raining down with inhuman strength. The Bloodthirster was a powerhouse, its every attack a hurricane of fury. But I was faster, more agile. I danced around its blows, the knowledge of countless battles ingrained in my very being.
The clash of my scythe against the Bloodthirster's axe echoed through the ruined city like a death knell. Sparks flew with each clang, the daemon's weapon leaving deep gouges in my scythe despite its newfound resilience. Its blows were relentless, a storm of pure rage that threatened to overwhelm me.
But just as I felt myself falter, a new sensation bloomed within me. A surge of dark power, potent and intoxicating, pulsed through my veins. With a gasp, I felt a pair of raven-black wings erupt from my back, leathery and powerful. The feeling was both exhilarating and terrifying, a foreign power coiling within me.
A guttural roar erupted from my throat, a sound that resonated with the darkness now coursing through me. The Bloodthirster paused for a moment, its single, baleful eye flickering with surprise. That momentary hesitation was all I needed.
With a surge of newfound strength, I ripped my scythe free from the lock and launched a brutal counter-attack. The scythe became a blur, a whirlwind of darkness fueled by the power of the warp. The Bloodthirster roared in defiance, parrying some blows while others left smoking gashes on its hide.
But the tide was turning. Emboldened by the taste of power, I pressed my advantage. The world seemed to slow down, my movements precise and deadly. Each swing of the scythe was laced with a dark energy, a corruption that mirrored the Bloodthirster's own.
Then, with a final, desperate roar, I channeled all my power into one last attack. The scythe arced through the air, a reaper's crescent of darkness. The Bloodthirster raised its axe in a desperate attempt to block, but it was too late. The scythe cleaved through the axe handle, then continued its deadly path, carving a deep gash across the daemon's chest.
A shriek of pure agony ripped from the Bloodthirster's maw. It stumbled back, its massive form wavering for a moment. I seized the opportunity. With a surge of will, I ripped open a tear in the fabric of reality, a raw gash in the sky that pulsed with unholy energy.
From the gaping maw emerged a horrifying entity – a winged angel, but twisted by the dark power of the warp. Its form was skeletal, its wings tattered shrouds draped in decay. In its skeletal hands, it clutched a massive scythe, its blade a swirling vortex of shadow and bone.
The daemonic angel let out a soul-chilling shriek that seemed to rip at the very fabric of reality. Then, with a single, powerful beat of its tattered wings, it launched itself into the fray. The Bloodthirster, momentarily stunned by my attack, was caught off guard as the daemonic angel slammed into it.
They grappled, a monstrous whirlwind of claws, teeth, and scythes. The smaller daemons, sensing the shift in power, hesitated for a moment. Then, in a desperate bid for survival, they turned their attention to the newcomers.
A savage grin split my face. Let them fight. The Bloodthirster had its hands full, and the daemonic horde was about to learn the true meaning of annihilation. With a dark laugh that echoed through the battlefield, I joined the fray, my black wings propelling me towards the nearest group of daemons.
My scythe, fueled by the warp's dark power, became a reaper's instrument of death. Each swing carved a bloody path through the daemonic horde, their screams a symphony of terror and pain. The daemonic angel, a whirlwind of darkness, tore through their ranks with a terrifying efficiency. It was a dance of death, a macabre ballet of slaughter under the blood-red sky.
The battlefield became a scene of utter carnage. The stench of blood and burning flesh hung heavy in the air, a grim testament to the fury unleashed. But amidst the chaos, a single thought echoed in my mind – this was just the beginning. The taste of power was intoxicating, and I craved more.
The Bloodthirster roared in fury, its single eye blazing with hatred as it grappled with the daemonic angel. Claws raked across tattered wings, scythes clashed in a storm of sparks, and the very ground trembled under the weight of their titanic struggle. But I wouldn't let it be a stalemate.
With a flex of my will, I tightened my grip on the connection between me and the monstrous entity. Images flooded my mind – visions of battlefield triumphs, of reaping countless souls, of the power that flowed freely in the warp. I channeled that dark yearning, that insatiable hunger, into the creature, empowering it further.
The daemonic angel responded with a bone-chilling shriek that seemed to rip the very air from my lungs. Its skeletal form pulsed with renewed energy, and its attacks gained a terrifying ferocity. A single swing of its scythe cleaved through the Bloodthirster's leg, sending the monstrous daemon crashing to its knee.
The Bloodthirster bellowed in pain, a sound that shook the ruins around us. It lashed out with its remaining arm, but the daemonic angel was faster. It dodged the blow with an inhuman grace and returned the favor with a brutal sweep of its scythe.
This time, the blade didn't merely wound. It carved a deep gash across the Bloodthirster's chest, exposing the daemon's pulsating, corrupted heart. A horrifying stench, a cocktail of brimstone and decay, filled the air.
The Bloodthirster roared, a sound of pure, primal rage. But its defiance was short-lived. With a final, agonizing scream, the daemonic angel plunged its scythe deep into the exposed heart. Darkness erupted from the wound, tendrils of pure warp energy lashing out in all directions.
The Bloodthirster convulsed, its massive form wracked with pain. Then, in a shower of gore and bone, it dissolved into nothingness, leaving behind only an echoing silence.
Victory. A primal surge of satisfaction washed over me, mingled with a chilling sense of power. The daemonic horde, leaderless and demoralized, broke ranks. They scattered in all directions, their pathetic shrieks echoing across the battlefield.
But I wouldn't let them escape. With a dark chuckle that sent shivers down my own spine, I unleashed the daemonic angel upon them. It became a whirlwind of death, its scythe a macabre reaper, cutting down the fleeing daemons with horrifying efficiency.
The slaughter was swift and brutal. Lasgun fire from Jek's position added to the carnage, his face etched with a mixture of horror and awe as he witnessed the spectacle before him.
The child, mercifully oblivious to the carnage, finally stirred in his arms. Jek quickly cupped his hand over the child's ears, shielding him from the cacophony of violence.
Through the haze of battle, I locked eyes with Jek. A silent message passed between us – a shared understanding of the price of this victory.
But for now, the battle was won. The city, a monument to destruction, was finally quiet. Only the stench of death and the mournful cries of distant sirens hung heavy in the air.
With a mental command, I severed the connection between myself and the daemonic angel. The creature let out a final, ear-splitting shriek before dissolving back into the warp, leaving behind only a lingering sense of dread.
My black wings, their power spent, vanished with a soft rustle. I landed heavily on the ground, feeling a strange sense of exhaustion despite my newfound resilience.
The taste of power lingered on my tongue, a dark promise of what was to come. This was just the beginning. The path I had chosen was shrouded in darkness, but I would walk it. For the Emperor? Perhaps not anymore. But for survival, for vengeance, for something far more…primordial.
