Warhammer 40K - [Blood Angels 03] - Red Fury by James Swallow (Undead) (v1.0) by me

Author:me
Format: epub

darkening the Bloodchild’s face as it came at him. With a colossal impact, the blades scissored

across his hook sword and broke it along the length with a screech of rendered metal. The torsion of the blow twisted through Rafen’s arm and shocked him backward; for a moment he almost lost his footing.

As fast as it came at him, the clone was roaring into Noxx’s face again. The swords fell flat upon the Flesh Tearer’s shoulders in a V and closed, shifting to sever his head at the neck with a single motion. Noxx’s hands, bloodied and raw, came up to fight against the killing strike. He cried out in pain, his shout warring with the Bloodchild’s snarls and growls. Rafen reacted without thinking, and hurled the broken sword like a throwing knife. His aim was true; the bifurcated blade impacted and set deep into the flesh of the Bloodchild’s back, a couple of centimetres beneath his shoulder blade. The reaction was instant. The clone brayed and spun about, Noxx suddenly knocked aside, the two hook swords falling from its nerveless fingers as it scrambled to reach for the broken weapon, desperate to pull it free.

Bloodchild and Blood Angel locked eyes, clone and Astartes linked by a chain of raging battle- hate. Rafen felt the ebb and flow of the combat rage inside him, metering it by the second as he had been trained to his entire life; but the clone had no such preparation. He saw the shadow of the fury erupt in those lifeless eyes, saw the turn-key of the Red Thirst rising. With a screech, the clone gripped the broken blade and ripped it from its own flesh, bright vitae cascading off the edge. As Noxx struggled to his feet, the Bloodchild opened its mouth and ran Rafen’s makeshift weapon over its tongue, sucking the fluid from its surface. Red stained the white fangs behind its lips.

The clone pivoted and mirrored Rafen’s earlier attack, throwing the blade at Noxx. The Flesh Tearer went down again, the broken sword burying itself in the veteran sergeant’s thigh. Rafen gasped as the Bloodchild’s torso rippled, the muscles moving and shifting beneath the russet surface of his flesh in abhuman coils. The clone threw itself at Noxx, colliding with him as he tried to rise once again.

Noxx screamed as the clone’s mouth opened wide and an arc of teeth clamped into the meat of his shoulder, new blood spitting in rich gushes across the stone floor. A grotesque sucking sounded as the clone-Marine drank deep.

The Blood Angel ran, in a rolling motion ducking low to snatch up one of the discarded hook swords. He leapt into the air and came down sharply; leading with the weapon’s curved point. It found purchase in the clone’s torso, in the same oozing wound where he had struck moments before. The clone’s back arched and it hooted with agony. Noxx was left to bleed upon the floor of the pit as it swept up clawed hands and gurgled through a mouthful of Astartes vitae.

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