Space Wolf 01 - Spacewolf by Warhammer

Author:Warhammer [Warhammer]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

74

He could tell that all of them were wondering what they were doing here. All of them were

looking to him for leadership just as they had done on the night the troll had taken Henk. They relied

on his nerve, his courage, his knowledge. And the worst of it was that he had no idea of what to do.

He did not know where they were or how they had got there or even what sort of foe was

approaching. All he was sure of was that some sort of foe was coming, and that it was bearing down

on them with awful speed.

“Be calm,” he told them, hoping that none of them noticed the nervousness and insecurity in his

voice. Once more the bellowing sounded, and a shiver passed up Ragnar’s spine. Whatever made

that noise was big. And there was more than one of it. The sound had come from a different

direction than the other. It was answered by another strange call from the corridor up ahead. A noise

that sounded like the chittering of thousands of rats, or perhaps the clicking of hundreds of chitinous

claws.

The noise was coming closer. He heard Kjel cry out in fear and he fought to control himself, to

stop Kjel’s horror communicating itself to him. In this he was only partially successful. The sight of

what sped towards him down the corridor almost unmanned him.

There were hundreds of the creatures. Monsters bigger than a man. Each with four arms that

ended in massive claws. Nightmare faces of tiny eyes and monstrous jaws. Fast. Much faster than a

man, covering the distance between them almost too quickly for the eye to follow.

“We’re all going to die!” Kjel shouted, and Ragnar was forced to agree with him. Still if he was

going to die, he was going to take a few of the beasts with him. And he was damned well going to

make sure that the others did the same.

“Stand and fight,” he shouted. “Or I’ll kill you myself, you gutless cowards!”

The roar of sorcerous weapons filled the air. The same magic which had killed the dragon began

to take effect on their attackers. Ragnar ducked as bolts of fire passed over his head and raked the

monsters. They were dying but not quickly enough. Heads exploded. Bodies were torn apart. Blood

and nauseating fluids streamed out onto the living carpet. Still their assailants came on, an

unstoppable tide of alien hunger and hate. Despair threatened to overtake Ragnar. What use was

fighting? Why not simply lie down and die?

He refused to give way. Screaming with rage and hatred he leapt forward into the mass of

monsters, lashing left and right with his blades. A few stopped to engage him, more swept past to

get to his comrades. He was surrounded by a whirlwind of jaws and claws that tore through his

armour and his flesh. Still fighting, still trying to kill, he fought the agony that threatened to

overwhelm him as he descended into darkness.

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