Seraphim Blades - Fire in the Blood

“This is it. This is where we make our last stand.”

The cultists had us pinned in an Imperial Church. Who knows how long they had been undermining and infiltrating every organisation on the planet. With an effigy of the Golden Thrown bearing down on us from above the massive alter we prepared to give our lives as dearly as possible.

Then the roof exploded in a shower of dust and rockcrete. Las and auto fire halted for one moment as both sides looked up at the hole a series of Krak grenades had just made. A beam of light burnt its way through the debris and then a huge shadow came barreling through, followed by several others.

Before they had even landed the unmistakable sound of bolter rounds thundered into the enemy. “Thank the Throne” I thought to myself with the realisation that reinforcements had arrived.

The ground shook as the giants clad in power armour hit the ground then began to tear into the foe with an inhuman ferocity that left me feeling uneasy. I had never seen a Space Marine before but had heard tales and stories told 3rd and 4th hand. None of it prepared me for what I was witnessing.

I had been told of Space Marines striking with unmatched speed, precision and efficiency. Though accurate this is not what I would describe from what I witnessed. Adorned in a jarring combination of ornate white armour adorned with unsettling drilled skulls hanging from chains, these Astartes appeared frenzied.

Chainswords and blades hacked and slashed at the cultists with wild abandon. I saw one cut through at the waist before his assailant arced another giant swing tearing him in half once more before hitting the floor. One Astartes had forgone the use of his weapons entirely and ripped the head of a cultist clean from his shoulders with his armoured hand, dragging a section of his spinal column with it before tossing the headless corpse to one side like a rag doll.

I stood open mouthed at the horrific scene. Looking around at my men I could see that any initial relief the reinforcements had bestowed was now replaced with uncertainty and fear. Never had we witnessed such carnage from Imperial allies. 

An Astartes, igniting his jump pack slammed into an oncoming group of traitors with lightning claws searing and parting flesh in clouds of gore and viscera. The once white armour of the Space Marine now slick with blood which only seemed to further excite him.

None of them wore helmets. All of them appeared to be enjoying the slaughter. I got a glimpse of one among the havoc and I’m certain his face was contorted into a hideous rictus grin, such was his bloodlust. Then he tore out a man’s throat… with his teeth…

“Throne help us.”

My stomach turned and my grasp on my senses slipped. I could feel myself trembling as the last of the enemy fell. The Space Marines seemed to revel in the carnage they had just wrought. The enemy now existed in little more than blood soaked walls and dismembered corpses.

As the last fell one of their number spun with super-human speed and hoisted one of my Guardsmen up by his throat. Before any of us even had time to react a deafening voice roared from across the room.

“Enough!”

A single command halted the lesser ranked immediately. My heart was pounding in my ears, my breath almost uncontrollable as I struggled with all my might to retain some semblance of composure in front of my men. The Guardsman was still struggling for breath several feet in the air with a look of sheer terror on his face and his bowels uncontrollably evacuating themselves. The Space Marine, almost grudgingly, dropped him to the ground.

Their leader, the giant who barked the order, turned and began to slowly stride in my direction. Such was his size he strode across the room in fewer steps than I was prepared for. My stomach sank and my knees nearly gave way as his footsteps shook the very ground. He stood in front of me, bringing his full, monstrous height to bare. After a beat the giant leaned down so his face was so close I swear I could smell a strange stale coppery smell on his breath that I fought hard not to place.

His lip curled in an angry snarl and I heard what resembled a low, gutteral growl. The sound of disappointment, distain and a warning. No words were necessary. The sound touched something primal deep within my psyche and is now etched in my very soul.

The Sergeant took several paces backwards and ignited his jump pack. The entire squad thundered away an earsplitting scream of jets and smoke.

Turning to the alter my knees finally gave way and I vomited on the steps. I looked up at the image of the Throne, grateful to the Emperor I still drew breath.