[4-12] The Mines

[Okor]

Gears ground against each other, the shriek of metal on metal adding to the cacophony produced by the dying abomination, boneless limbs flailing as whatever remained of the minds trapped within its bulk struggled to realize their current situation. What few ravening abysses remained intact upon its exterior gibbered unintelligibly, torment and a rage that defied death itself streaming forth from its broken-toothed maws. Unable to accept its death and final failure, the beast continued to struggle, every fiber of its being bent towards inflicting death, each individual appendage hungering for blood.

Okor stepped over a flailing tentacle, his bolter barking as a shell detonated within the amalgamated flesh, spraying blood and fermented meat over the area, eliciting another cry of pain from the crippled creation. A titan-sized foot came down on the twitching remnants, pulping it beneath his mass as he pressed forward, crushing the dying beast beneath his tread. The metallic mesh grille that served as a barrier upon the lift was prevented from closing, the now-calloused fingers of Fiara holding it apart, the spasming aberration beneath the lift barely missing her delectable young flesh with its appendages.

”Move.” Spat the Plague Marine, warped and atrophied claws scrabbling at his warplate as he trampled over the remnants of the rampaging beast, his eye set upon the abandoned lift’s doorway, his four ravaged lungs greedily sucking in the lethal gasses within his air supply. His mythical companion stepped out of the way, the doors slamming shut and severing a half-decomposed tendril as, with no small amount of effort, Nurgle’s Chosen took flight. His decomposing arms crossed in front of him, an ingrained reflex that would nonetheless be ineffective, given his durability.

The grid gave way with a shriek, a pale imitation of the cry of rage and frustration issuing forth from beneath, the flesh-heap’s prey finally enacting their escape. Their method of ascension slowly began to rise, the maimed monstrosity’s many limbs failing to hold them in place, the sound of tearing flesh akin to a sweet melody, the creations of man overcoming the brute strength of the Daemonspawn.

Slowly, Okor forced himself to his feet, shards of steel embedded within his dessicated flesh. He felt the redistribution of weight upon the platform as Fiara moved to assist, only to think better of approaching the opaque, parasite-infested fluid slowly seeping from his open wounds. The horror still howled beneath them, the otherworldly screams echoing through the shaft.

A gear seared itself into his vision, the sigil emblazoning itself upon his corrupted heads-up-display, the crimson symbol clearly evident in the sea of static and warp-tainted stains through which Okor perceived the world. “Oko-” the clear and clipped tones of Colonel came across the vox, the hungering stone surrounding them consuming the conversation, denying them the luxury of communication, replacing it with naught but the ever-echoing reminders of their failures.

“Okor, this is Colonel. Do you read?”

The message forced his maw into a grin, sepulchral sabres of broken fangs dripping with toxins as he responded. He should have known the false-man would survive. He would not have thrown his lot in with the Institute if they were as weak a breed as the other Primes upon this damned Island. ”Ah, Colonel. You yet remain...alive, on this island?” He spoke, prying a spear of steel from his arm as they continued their ascension. ”What do you have to report?”

“In the company of another prime and a secondary. Survivors from the crash. Made it to a town, encountered difficulties. Undead, deformed and mutated people. Likely the town’s residents. Currently making an escape, headed toward possible escape from the island… What….what is your location?”

The Leprous Legionnaire snarled as he fired, driving a bullet into the beast below, the explosive rounds causing it to spasm as the pinnacle of destructive technology tore it apart, piece by piece. “We have encountered our own... mutations. We are in a mine of some sort... below the island’s surface. Heading to the surface on an elevator now.”

A thin tendril wrapped itself around the grille of the lift, pulses of flesh rippling along its length, adding to its girth as it attempted to drag the mechanism and its passengers down into the darkness down below, down into the Tartarus they had damned it to.

“Affirmative. Should we divert course to the mines, and join with you?”

”I will contact you again when we reach the...surface.” A heavy kick to the wiring demolished the structural integrity of the barrier, sending metal and meat alike spiralling down into the abyssal depths beneath. “We have...a nuisance to dispose of.” He snarled, taking stock of his ammunition. Far too low for his liking. A magazine and a half to expend against an entire island of prey.

Almost unfair to the mutant bastards.

“Understood.”

Okor turned to Fiara, watching the curious secondary sever another appendage, levering her superhuman strength to rip it bodily from its host. ”We need more… force to end this accursed thing.” He gestured to the winch above them, the grinding gears bringing them closer to the apex. ”When we reach our destination, destroy that. Let’s send this thing to hell as… carpeting.”

901 Words. 1806/2400 used.