Angels of Death: Ch.2

Chapter 2: Faithful Encounter

Fifteen minutes earlier.

Men, women, children and semi-mechanical forms that would seem inhuman to us were mingled in the crush of the transport building. People rushed where they had to go. Guardsman and Arbites patrolled, providing comfort for those around them, that they were safe from the horrors of space.

Today, however, would be different.

In the middle of it all somewhere was a young, red haired psyker, dressed neatly in her yellow uniform, sitting on a bench. Her commanding officer had told her to wait here while she went to enquire about something to do with transport times and supplies. To be honest, she wasn't concerned by it. She wasn't concerned by much.

She looked across the crowds of people, and very quickly noticed the invisible, subtle radius around her that they seemed unwilling to cross. Even though she was less threatening, both physically and mentally, as most of the people who went around her, they still kept their distance. Children were told not to look at her by their parents, and some passers even tutted or made subtle comments to themselves.

There is little prejudice in the imperium of man between humans. A man is not judged by the colour of his skin, disability or orientation any more, only by his worth to serve the Emperor in his chosen field.

That, and whether they were Psykers.

Even weak Psykers were treated with suspicion and distrust. And with good reason, for they could silently harbour daemons and their powers are unnatural and dangerous. Most of the hatred and fear aimed at them, however, is unjustified. As it was in this case.

Boone was more than used to this now. She had spent many years being treated as simultaneously subhuman and a major threat (two things she certainly was not.) She had grown up on a planet of paradise, and in the space of a few years, had gone from pseudo-princess to the lonely assistant of an imperial commissar. She constantly missed her home, her father, her previous life and her old friends. She could remember these things perfectly due to her powers, which only made the sting hurt more.

These were old pains now, however, and she gave as little thought to them as possible. And besides, she had made new friends, and life wasn't as bad as it could have been. At least she was still alive, something she was forever thankful for.

As she thought to herself, and considered what she could do to pass the time, save make funny faces at passersby to scare them, she neglected to notice that someone had crossed the barrier, and was sitting right next to her.

She noticed that the barrier suddenly seemed to double in size as people took an even bigger detour to get around her. As she looked for a reason why, she noticed the man sitting beside her.

He was, in almost every possible way, the stereotypical psyker that everyone imagines in their biased and prejudiced minds. He wore a tatty brown robe and black waistcoat. His movements were jerky, his skin seemed somehow to be dirty and burnt and his pockets seemed stuffed with random items, from weapons to bits of junk. A psykana mercy blade was in a holster on one side of him, and a revolver on the other. A huge poleaxe was strapped across his back, which was imbued with psychic trinkets and focuses.

Two things did stand out. His hair was so green, it almost looked like it was glowing. So were his eyes. The other thing was his total lack of sanctioning implants. His skull was completely free from mechanical interference. Even Boone had her fair share of implants, but this one was totally free of them.

Literally, in every sense of the word, the two of them were polar opposites.

Realising someone was staring at him, the Psyker turned to look at Boone, raising an eyebrow. He was eating some kind of mushy sandwich that looked highly distasteful and spoke while he ate, which didn't help.

"What? I got something on my face?" he gargled through his food. Boone cringed slightly; even the guardsman she knew had more manners than this. "Oh really? Well excuuuusseee meeee, princess!" He hissed.

Boone recoiled. He had read her mind, and she didn't even feel sense him try.

"Yep, I'm like you, I read minds and shit like that." He chuckled. "Difference being I can do it REAL good."

"Not everyone can be an alpha-level, I guess." She sighed. The green haired Psyker smiled.

"So there is a sense of humour in there. Good, I was scared I'd get bored." He tucked back into whatever he was eating. Boone watched him, fascinated by his animosity. "The name's Tauron, by the way. Don't bother telling me yours, I already know." Suddenly, he stopped and looked up. A child was watching him from a short distance. He smiled at the child, trying to be sweet. Boone had, however, only seen one smile in her whole life that was creepier than his. "Hey kid, want a sandwich or something? If ya hungry I'll get ya one." he enquired in a friendly tone that didn't match his face.

Before the child could reply, his apparent mother stormed through the crowd towards him, and urgently tried to usher him away.

"Leave those two alone dear, you don't want to see them." She whispered loudly to him.

"I think he did, but that's just my opinion, not like that counts for anything." Yelled Tauron at her with distain. As she melted back into the crowd, Tauron slumped in his seat, and stuffed the rest of his sandwich into his face. "Fucking bigots." He growled.

"Excuse me?" said Boone with confusion.

"Oh come now, my dear, don't tell me you haven't heard language like that before, because I know you have. No, seriously, I do." He chuckled while looking in the opposite direction. Boone started to get a little agitated and worried.

"Will you please stop reading my mind all the time, it's not polite." She pleaded. Tauron turned to look at her again.

"What's the matter, got something to hide?" He smiled wickedly, but could see that she was genuinely worried now, so it weakened a little. "Sorry, I'm just so used to being able to mess with people; didn't mean to scare you."

"It's...it's ok." She sighed. "Actually...I just wanted to know what you meant."

"Huh? Meant what?" asked Tauron as he took out a scrap of rag from a pocket and cleaned his face with it.

"Bigot. What do you mean by that?" she elaborated. Tauron understood now.

"They all are. All these people who walk around us. Freakin hypocritical bigots. They fear us psykers like they fear disease, yet they want to exploit our powers to their own means." Tauron twitched, and turned to a passing man. Standing up, he suddenly roared at him. "Fool! You all have psychic potential you know! Mine's just bigger than yours, but aside that, you're no different from me!" The man recoiled with surprise, but kept on walking, trying to ignore the rants of the psyker. "Yeah, that's right, keep on walking before I deep fry your hypothalamus, you..." he never finished his sentence; he just sat back down and sulked. All the while, Boone watched, astounded and shocked by what he just did.

"Don't you think that was a little...excessive?" Boone asked with a little uncertainty as what to say.

"Nah, I could scream at him with a megaphone. I could freakin mind-talk to him. Wouldn't make a difference. We're all scum to them." He sighed.

"I don't think so. I know lots of good people!" she replied, somewhat disappointed with his attitude.

"So do I. I know many, many, many more bigots though." He hissed in reply. "But none of this matters in the long run though. See, there's a reason I'm able to be here, having this conversation with you." Suddenly, he edged along the bench, until he was sitting right next to her. Then, making sure no one was paying too much attention, he whispered into her ear. "I'm hunting heretics!"

Boone turned to him sharply with shock.

"Oh don't worry, my dear, you're far too cute to be a heret-wait...daemonette...baaaad analogy." He slapped his own forehead and looked back at her. "Whatever, I'm pretty sure you're clean, but..." he got even closer again. "Someone in this building is a heretic."

"Wait...how can you be sure?" said Boone, flapping her hands and shaking her head with confusion and disbelief. Tauron's grin widened, and he pointed to his forehead.

"Up here, it may be a mess, but I can read minds better than most others, even without people knowing, and I know that someone here is thinking naughty things!" he almost giggled like a wicked child. "Problem is I don't know who."

"So...why are you sitting here?" she asked, still unsure, but wise enough not to question the apparently semi-mad man who sat next to her.

"Good position to be, lots of people around, lots of minds to probe at once. If he pops into view now, I'll get him!" he clapped his hands together and rubbed them intently. He stared directly at various passersby, who instantly noticed this and looked the other way.

"Well...how do you know the heretic hasn't just left?" replied Boone, looking with him at the people he looked at.

"Because...this time...he's close. I can smell him...her?" he sniffed the air with confusion. "Smells of cheap perfume and bacon. I'm thinking Slaanesh follower." Boone twitched as he said the last sentence, partly in fear and partly in shock of the word he said.

"Should you really say that?" she suggested tentatively.

"The truth can't hurt ya much. Truth is there's a heretic here, who worships the daemonic entity of "having one too many sexy parties" known as Slaanesh, and I intend to track em down and turn their lungs inside out!" He replied. Boone seemed a little hurt whenever he used the name of that wicked being. Suddenly, his eyes lit up as he looked through the crowd towards a particular person. No one noticed him looking this time, save Boone. "Ah-ha, got ya!"

Boone looked where he was looking, and through the crowd he saw a lonely looking women in clothes that were even tattier than most. At first, she almost felt sorry for the person, but after looking for long enough, something in the back of her mind began telling her that something was wrong. Something about the way she walked and the way she looked seemed out of place.

"Now I have em, you want to tag along while I reel her in? Might be good experience for you!" chuckled Tauron in one of his friendly voices again.

"I'm not so sure. This could be dangerous." Said Boone, looking very scared and unsure.

"Hey, you wouldn't say that to a commissar, would you?" he asked, turning to look directly at her, lowering his eyebrows.

"Actually, you'd be surprised..." she whispered to herself. Regardless, Tauron took this as her answer.

"Hah, you won't last long in the field, I'll tell you that much!" he laughed. "Ya worthless brains'll be all over the floor in no time!"

Boone is very hard to anger. She is relatively easy to upset, and equally can be made happy with very token gifts of kindness, but even she couldn't remember how long it has been since she got angry. However, that last comment struck a nerve deep down within her.

"Oh really?" she replied, with little drops of verbal venom on her tongue. "Fine, I'll go with you, and I'll even kill the heretic!" Tauron stopped laughing and looked at her closely.

"Big words, my little friend. However, actions speak louder than words!" he grinned and shoved his revolver into her hands. "Catch her with this, and she won't get up, but we can't get her out in the open or the guards might get the wrong end of the stick. We gotta find somewhere quiet to do this..."

*****

Boone was already starting to regret this.

Tauron and her had followed the heretic through many, many sets of corridors, and past many, many people. The two psykers remained as stealthy as possible, trying to keep out of sight from their target as she conversed with others and went about her deceptively normal business.

Finally, when she believed no one was looking, the apparent heretic ducked into a back-room which lead to the underground generators powering the station.

"Check, and mate." Hissed Tauron as he poked his head around the corner, watching her go. Boone looked around with him, her heart racing inside her chest.

Tauron was perfectly calm, but Boone was highly apprehensive. She'd only ever read about daemons and the horrors of heresy. This was the first time she'd ever been close to the reality of it before, and the prospect scared her. At the same time, the prospect of killing a heretic was enticing. She imagined telling Raege, and seeing her with a proud smile on her face. Maybe Raege would treat her with more trust or even give her a promotion!

Little did she know that these thoughts were not her own.

Before she knew where she was, she found herself tip-toeing down the stairs behind the door the heretic had ducked behind. With every step they descended, the lighting got darker and darker.

Soon, a malevolent sound started to fill the air. Faint screams and low hums shivered through the two of them. With every step down, it felt like they were descending a step further into hell.

By the time they reached the bottom, the walls were wet, the air was thick and hot and the hums of the generators were intertwined with the daemonic sounds around them. Boone put on a brave face, but underneath that fragile shell she was utterly terrified.

They came up to a door. From behind it, pink light shone brightly, and voices could be heard.

"This is it...you ready?" whispered Tauron. Boone took a deep breath, and nodded slowly. Tauron approached the door, braced himself, and shouldered into it.

It came crashing open with such violence that Boone flinched, and almost forgot to rush forwards with him.

"Lo, and behold, vile heathens! For the wrath of the Emperor has come to..." Tauron began, but was unable to finish his sentence. What he saw choked his voice and silenced him. When Boone saw too, she could do little but scream.

The woman they had been stalking was suspended by chains between two daemonic pillars. A look of sheer agony was on her face, yet she was smiling. All the flesh around her waist was stripped open, and her rib-cage was unfolded and exposed. Her entrails hung from her shredded lower torso, writhing as if they were alive, even though she seemed to be dead. Below her was a mound of dead bodies, each one more mangled than the rest, each one with a twisted smile upon its face. Atop the pile stood a robed figure, the obvious leader of the now dead heretics.

"The wrath of your carrion god does not inspire fear in me! You shall be the one to fear today!" called out the voice of the figure. He lifted his arms into the air, as the bloodied entrails of the woman above him dripped onto his face and hands. "Come forth, oh dreadful beauty! Mighty Illidian; rend these fools, and this world, asunder!"

Upon speaking these words, the body of the woman above the heretic began to convulse violently, before promptly exploding into a vast wall of pink fire and writhing flesh. The dead bodies below began to rise up and fuse with the formless mess of fire and flesh that grew between the pillars. As each body was added, it grew larger and larger, until a defined form began to take shape from it. Both Tauron and Boone could only watch as the nightmarish creature began to take form before them.

It stood some thirty feet tall. Its form was vaguely humanoid in shape, but with four arms, double jointed legs and a long tail. As more detail began to arise, it became apparent that the beast had a feminine figure and some six breasts. The second pair of arms were in fact vast, crab like pincers, which shattered the pillars as they closed around them. The face of the creature was painfully beautiful, but writhing tendrils and vast horns replaced the hair and fangs filled its mouth. The beast roared out triumphantly, spraying pink flames all around it, and began to make its way towards them.

Tauron turned to Boone, and she turned to him. In unison, they thought exactly the same thing, and with all their human might, turned tail and ran for their lives.