Mikes40k

The overhead lumens buzzed in and out, casting the corridor in stuttering frames of light and dark. Every few seconds the compound plunged into shadow as if the walls themselves were holding their breath. The smell of machine oil hung heavy in the air, mingled with something wetter, meatier. Trooper Halvek’s boots scuffed on the rockrete as he followed the squad, lasgun clammy in his grip. The others moved in quietly, each man waiting for the next flicker as though the light itself might betray what lay ahead. When it came, it revealed a body. Juras. Or what had once been Juras. The corpse was splayed in the centre of the corridor like a grotesque offering. His ribcage had been cracked apart and pulled wide, ribs splintered into jagged prongs. The organs within had been arranged with sickening deliberation: lungs draped across his shoulders like a shawl, heart resting in cupped hands of bone. The head was gone, wrenched away at the neck in a spray of sinew. The squad froze....