The Cycle Interrupted by Games Workshop LTD

Author:Games Workshop LTD
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Games Workshop LTD
Published: 2017-12-01T13:12:56+00:00

Horticulous ground his crumbled molars, his choler souring with every passing moment. He took a greenclay urn from Mulch’s shell, the one containing his most prized plague flies, and cracked it open with his lopping shears to release a cloud of fat-bodied insects. ‘Swarm ’em, little ’uns!’ he cried out, but the insects just buzzed around him, not trespassing so much as a foot onto the cracked lands.

‘He can’t touch us,’ came the call from up ahead. One of them took out a shortbow, and a moment later an arrow struck Horticulous right in the chest. It caused a momentary flicker of pain as it pierced his heart. The daemon plucked out the arrow and snapped it, his anger rising up to consume all reason. He slid off Mulch’s shell, took up his shears, and stepped out onto the flatlands, grimacing at the stinging pain he felt in the soles of his feet.

The cracked earth shivered and shook as if revulsed, and a hundred skeletal hands thrust upwards from the earth with a noise like a thousand earthenware jars shattering at once. Those closest were grabbing at Horticulous but could not quite reach him, for they were repelled by the spore-seeds scattered on the ground. ‘Huh,’ he grunted, slashing one of the hands with a backhand swipe of his shears. It came apart in a scattering of bones.

Those hands bursting out nearest the human survivors experienced no such obstacle. They clawed at Zintalis’ survivors in ever-greater numbers, the earth around them crumbling away to reveal an entire layer of juddering skeletons beneath. Bony fingers sank into soft skin and ripped away chunks of pink flesh as the townspeople were dragged screaming into their graves.

Horticulous raised his eyebrow, drinking in the spectacle with a mixture of satisfaction and disquiet. ‘Strange times indeed,’ he muttered, climbing slowly back into Mulch’s saddle-shell. ‘But this old dog has plenty of tricks yet. Come on, my fine little lads, back to the garden with you. We have work to do.’

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