Nightfall, 40K novella, updated with final chapter
Posted: Sun Jun 21, 2009 8:16 pm
Nightfall, by Doctor Thunder
Story idea by Manchu
Chapter One
It was well past third bells when Tella was roused from her bed. The insect net had been pulled back, and already a couple of ticks had leapt up onto her as she attempted to rub the sleep from her eyes. The humm coming through the floor felt all wrong to her, sporadic like a hiccup.
“We have to go, child,” a voice called out in dull metallic tones. Tella reached out and her hands found the rough skin of Harks, her family’s Grey Friar. His artificial eye glowed red dimly in the dark as it always did, providing just enough light for her to see his natural eye. Normally his eye was cold as stone, but this time she saw something she had never seen in his eye before. He was afraid.
Tella’s small feet made a patter along the corridor as she struggled to keep up. Brass cables snaking across the bulkhead stubbed her toes and brown puddles of slick oil stained the edges of her nightgown, but she didn’t dare complain. Soldiers and slaves were running in all directions, knocking each other over as they carried armfuls of scrolls and data-slates. Everywhere screams were mixed with prayers. Through the stained glass panels in the ribbed arches above, Tella could make out the beautiful golden command spire. She knew her father was captain of the entire middle belt of that spire, and even though she had never been there, she always thought of it as a safe place. Now that safe place was defiled. Metallic craft were latched onto the spire like ticks, worming and fusing their heads into the feathers of the Imperial Eagle.
Harks yanked even harder on her arm, and she quickened her pace yet again. With his other arm he carried his son Anthon, who was holding his shoulder and whimpering to himself.
They passed through a vaulted junction, which was nearly blocked off by a bonfire of scrolls and data-slates. The serfs would throw their armfuls then run off for another load, while the lexicanums and others with memory augmentation were being thrown in themselves.
Harks turned a corner and they entered the family shrine. Only half the candles were lit, leaving the statue of Saint Agatha awash with dim flickering light.
“Where are umma and oppa?” Tella insisted as she tried to catch her breath.
“Your parents won’t be coming with us,” Harks barked as he set his son down.
Tella coughed, there was something wrong with the air. It stung the back of her throat, and tasted like copper. Anthon began sobbing wildly, and Tella could feel the tears welling up under her own eyes. She scurried over to Anthon and grabbed his shoulders.
“Stop crying, you big nabby, you’re always crying,” she screamed. As she shook him, his hand shifted, and she saw white bone poking out through the black burned flesh on his arm. She screamed in fright and fell backwards, landing in the font and sinking down to her shoulders.
The entire world jerked to the left, as if all of reality has been grabbed and snapped at once. Tella and all the water in the font came out as a bubble and splashed against the wall. For a moment she floated in mid air, surrounded by thousands of wobbly spheres of liquid, then everything snapped back and she fell down, hitting the floor along with the rain of water.
Harks unceremoniously pulled a rack away from the wall, spilling candles and skulls over the floor as he reached into handholds and began lifting. Even through the coarse robes he wore, Tella could see his back strain and hear the servos whirr as a panel in the wall gave way and lifted. Brown and red dust drizzled out of the seams as he hefted the panel and set it aside, revealing a compartment formerly hidden from view.
The rotting torso of a man was there, mounted against the wall. His grey flesh pulled taught over his ribs. Black drippings cables poured out of him like intestines.
“Whom do you serve?” Harks asked formally.
The corpse moved its head, bits of dried flesh falling off its cheeks as it feigned a smile with empty eye sockets.
“The Emperor’s Captain, Lord Duncall,” the corpse whispered hoarsely, a fine dust passing over rotted teeth.
“How long do you serve?” Harks asked again.
“Till my master release me,” the corpse whispered spitefully.
“Prep the family longboat,” Harks ordered, “Fuel and air, rations and water, beacon and vox.”
The corpse hissed, and a necrotic ear came loose and fell to the ground.
“As you say, I serve Duncall, not his pet.”
“You fraggin’ half-breed,” Harks swore. “Duncall is…” Harks caught himself and his natural eye flickered over to Tella. “I am head of Duncall’s household, he sent me here.”
“The command must come from Duncall himself,” the corpse cackled.
From beneath his filthy robes, Harks produced a blade and pressed it against the corpse’s neck. “Grant me this request and I will end your sentence,” he growled.
“The end is already here,” came the hissing reply.
There was an explosion in the hallway. A perfect sphere of fire forced its way down the corridor, picking up men and women as if they weighed nothing at all. As a flicker of the blast turned the corner into the shrine, Harks dropped down, covering Anthon with his own body as fire washed over them. Tella was hit by a wave of heat that made her shriek in terror. Instinctively she curled up into a ball, the fire steaming though the water around her and searing her back. The pain shot up into her brain and she screamed louder then she had ever screamed before. It seemed to her like the entire world was suddenly made of pain. The edges of her vision became grey and closed in like an iris. A terrible acrid smell entered her nostrils and mouth, and somewhere in the back of her world of torture, she realized that it was the smell of her burning hair and skin.
Tella writhed on the floor. Rolling over she could see, through her collapsing vision, out of the shrine and into the smoldering courtyard beyond. The massive stone of the Forbidden doors lay in ruin, revealing the winding stone staircase that lead up to the command spire. There was a man standing there. Not only a man but a beast also, huge and ferocious, covered from head to toe in impossibly thick black armor. He leapt into the burning courtyard with astounding speed, pouncing onto the burned and writhing soldiers, breaking their skulls between his fingers as if merely popping a grape.
From the far end fresh units of guards ran in. The front rank dropped to one knee, the second rank aiming over the heads of the first. Their commander barked out orders and they opened fire. Red darts of energy hit the beast in black, melting tiny pockmarks into its armor that dribbled down red hot like wax on a candle. The creature roared in anger, and the guards stumbled backwards, dropping their weapons to hold their hands to their ears, blood trickling down between their fingers. The enemy leapt into the formation, tearing the men apart, throwing limbs and organs in all directions in a fountain of death and blood.
In the shrine, Tella sobbed uncontrollably as she crawled along the floor. The burned flesh on her back cracked, trails of blood dripping down and burning as they landed on the red hot floor. She could feel the skin on her knees and palms cooking, but it was distant and vague, her body awash with so much pain that it had overwhelmed the sensation all together into a kind of throbbing numbness. She reached out towards the burning pile that had once been Harks’ body but found no life there. Beneath it Anthon moaned pitifully.
Tella looked up at the corpse, tears streaming down her face and sizzling as they hit the floor.
“Please….please, help me,” she pleaded.
The corpse was burning, tubes bursting and spilling their black icor. Rotting organs fell out as the left half of the ribcage collapsed. In life, he had been a heartless killer, but his expression softened, and he nodded quietly as the fire consumed him.
There was a hiss of air around the statue, and it slid sideways on whining pistons, revealing the entrance to the family longboat. Tella grunted and groaned as she cried, pulling Anton out from under his dead father and dragging him along the floor with her towards the hatch. Suddenly the light coming from outside darkened, and she felt her heart stop beating. Everything grew icy cold as she looked up at the armored beast entering the room. Its breathing was steady and harsh, like standing before a munitorium compressor. It moved slowly now, the servos in it’s armor protesting as the thick plates moved around to accommodate it. Tella screamed in horror, scooting and pulling as best she could to close the final meter between her and the exit, but the black armored figure reached out a massive hand and wrapped his fingers round her ankle.
His head turned inquisitively to one side, then there was a hiss of black air and he removed his helmet with his free hand. His flesh was purple and bloated, his eyelids and mouth sewn shut with thick red thread. Only his warped nostrils remained open, and he brought them in close, so close that they rubbed against her face and head as he took in her scent.
Tella shivered with fear. Her body felt heavy like stone, and cold sweat dripped down her face, mixing with her tears. Looking down at the beast’s belt, she saw her father’s sword tied there. The hilt was covered with blood, and she felt her heart cry out in pain. Everything she loved was dead, and now she was going to die too. Her eyes closed, accepting her fate. It was better this way anyway. What was there to live for?
Then a new feeling began glowing in her heart. It was small at first, like an ember, but quickly grew in heat and intensity. He killed her parents. She held onto that thought like a glowing piece of coal. The anger rose within her, and she felt in that moment like her heart burst into flames.
Her eyes shot open, and she balled her fist and hit the beast on the snout. She balled her other fist and hit it again, then again. She screamed in rage, hitting the creature with all her might, over and over again. She felt indefatigable, like she was drawing upon the power of the sun itself. In her rage she bit with her teeth and clawed with her nails at the man’s bloated face. Finally, her hand found a piece of broken glass and she stabbed it into his snout. The edge of the glass sliced deeply into her fingers, but she pushed all the harder, piercing his thick skin with the tip and drawing a tiny amount of green blood that hardened before it even had a chance to drip.
The beast’s features twisted into a terrible grin, then it began to laugh. A deep bellow that escaped through the seams in the stitches in its lips. He gave her one final sniff, then released her ankle laughing louder and louder as it left the shrine and went into the hall.
Tella wasted no time, she scooted into the longboat, dragging Anthon with her. She could still hear the beast’s laughter long after the hatch closed, long after the longboat fired free from it’s moorings, long after she lost consciousness….she could still hear its laugh.
Story idea by Manchu
Chapter One
It was well past third bells when Tella was roused from her bed. The insect net had been pulled back, and already a couple of ticks had leapt up onto her as she attempted to rub the sleep from her eyes. The humm coming through the floor felt all wrong to her, sporadic like a hiccup.
“We have to go, child,” a voice called out in dull metallic tones. Tella reached out and her hands found the rough skin of Harks, her family’s Grey Friar. His artificial eye glowed red dimly in the dark as it always did, providing just enough light for her to see his natural eye. Normally his eye was cold as stone, but this time she saw something she had never seen in his eye before. He was afraid.
Tella’s small feet made a patter along the corridor as she struggled to keep up. Brass cables snaking across the bulkhead stubbed her toes and brown puddles of slick oil stained the edges of her nightgown, but she didn’t dare complain. Soldiers and slaves were running in all directions, knocking each other over as they carried armfuls of scrolls and data-slates. Everywhere screams were mixed with prayers. Through the stained glass panels in the ribbed arches above, Tella could make out the beautiful golden command spire. She knew her father was captain of the entire middle belt of that spire, and even though she had never been there, she always thought of it as a safe place. Now that safe place was defiled. Metallic craft were latched onto the spire like ticks, worming and fusing their heads into the feathers of the Imperial Eagle.
Harks yanked even harder on her arm, and she quickened her pace yet again. With his other arm he carried his son Anthon, who was holding his shoulder and whimpering to himself.
They passed through a vaulted junction, which was nearly blocked off by a bonfire of scrolls and data-slates. The serfs would throw their armfuls then run off for another load, while the lexicanums and others with memory augmentation were being thrown in themselves.
Harks turned a corner and they entered the family shrine. Only half the candles were lit, leaving the statue of Saint Agatha awash with dim flickering light.
“Where are umma and oppa?” Tella insisted as she tried to catch her breath.
“Your parents won’t be coming with us,” Harks barked as he set his son down.
Tella coughed, there was something wrong with the air. It stung the back of her throat, and tasted like copper. Anthon began sobbing wildly, and Tella could feel the tears welling up under her own eyes. She scurried over to Anthon and grabbed his shoulders.
“Stop crying, you big nabby, you’re always crying,” she screamed. As she shook him, his hand shifted, and she saw white bone poking out through the black burned flesh on his arm. She screamed in fright and fell backwards, landing in the font and sinking down to her shoulders.
The entire world jerked to the left, as if all of reality has been grabbed and snapped at once. Tella and all the water in the font came out as a bubble and splashed against the wall. For a moment she floated in mid air, surrounded by thousands of wobbly spheres of liquid, then everything snapped back and she fell down, hitting the floor along with the rain of water.
Harks unceremoniously pulled a rack away from the wall, spilling candles and skulls over the floor as he reached into handholds and began lifting. Even through the coarse robes he wore, Tella could see his back strain and hear the servos whirr as a panel in the wall gave way and lifted. Brown and red dust drizzled out of the seams as he hefted the panel and set it aside, revealing a compartment formerly hidden from view.
The rotting torso of a man was there, mounted against the wall. His grey flesh pulled taught over his ribs. Black drippings cables poured out of him like intestines.
“Whom do you serve?” Harks asked formally.
The corpse moved its head, bits of dried flesh falling off its cheeks as it feigned a smile with empty eye sockets.
“The Emperor’s Captain, Lord Duncall,” the corpse whispered hoarsely, a fine dust passing over rotted teeth.
“How long do you serve?” Harks asked again.
“Till my master release me,” the corpse whispered spitefully.
“Prep the family longboat,” Harks ordered, “Fuel and air, rations and water, beacon and vox.”
The corpse hissed, and a necrotic ear came loose and fell to the ground.
“As you say, I serve Duncall, not his pet.”
“You fraggin’ half-breed,” Harks swore. “Duncall is…” Harks caught himself and his natural eye flickered over to Tella. “I am head of Duncall’s household, he sent me here.”
“The command must come from Duncall himself,” the corpse cackled.
From beneath his filthy robes, Harks produced a blade and pressed it against the corpse’s neck. “Grant me this request and I will end your sentence,” he growled.
“The end is already here,” came the hissing reply.
There was an explosion in the hallway. A perfect sphere of fire forced its way down the corridor, picking up men and women as if they weighed nothing at all. As a flicker of the blast turned the corner into the shrine, Harks dropped down, covering Anthon with his own body as fire washed over them. Tella was hit by a wave of heat that made her shriek in terror. Instinctively she curled up into a ball, the fire steaming though the water around her and searing her back. The pain shot up into her brain and she screamed louder then she had ever screamed before. It seemed to her like the entire world was suddenly made of pain. The edges of her vision became grey and closed in like an iris. A terrible acrid smell entered her nostrils and mouth, and somewhere in the back of her world of torture, she realized that it was the smell of her burning hair and skin.
Tella writhed on the floor. Rolling over she could see, through her collapsing vision, out of the shrine and into the smoldering courtyard beyond. The massive stone of the Forbidden doors lay in ruin, revealing the winding stone staircase that lead up to the command spire. There was a man standing there. Not only a man but a beast also, huge and ferocious, covered from head to toe in impossibly thick black armor. He leapt into the burning courtyard with astounding speed, pouncing onto the burned and writhing soldiers, breaking their skulls between his fingers as if merely popping a grape.
From the far end fresh units of guards ran in. The front rank dropped to one knee, the second rank aiming over the heads of the first. Their commander barked out orders and they opened fire. Red darts of energy hit the beast in black, melting tiny pockmarks into its armor that dribbled down red hot like wax on a candle. The creature roared in anger, and the guards stumbled backwards, dropping their weapons to hold their hands to their ears, blood trickling down between their fingers. The enemy leapt into the formation, tearing the men apart, throwing limbs and organs in all directions in a fountain of death and blood.
In the shrine, Tella sobbed uncontrollably as she crawled along the floor. The burned flesh on her back cracked, trails of blood dripping down and burning as they landed on the red hot floor. She could feel the skin on her knees and palms cooking, but it was distant and vague, her body awash with so much pain that it had overwhelmed the sensation all together into a kind of throbbing numbness. She reached out towards the burning pile that had once been Harks’ body but found no life there. Beneath it Anthon moaned pitifully.
Tella looked up at the corpse, tears streaming down her face and sizzling as they hit the floor.
“Please….please, help me,” she pleaded.
The corpse was burning, tubes bursting and spilling their black icor. Rotting organs fell out as the left half of the ribcage collapsed. In life, he had been a heartless killer, but his expression softened, and he nodded quietly as the fire consumed him.
There was a hiss of air around the statue, and it slid sideways on whining pistons, revealing the entrance to the family longboat. Tella grunted and groaned as she cried, pulling Anton out from under his dead father and dragging him along the floor with her towards the hatch. Suddenly the light coming from outside darkened, and she felt her heart stop beating. Everything grew icy cold as she looked up at the armored beast entering the room. Its breathing was steady and harsh, like standing before a munitorium compressor. It moved slowly now, the servos in it’s armor protesting as the thick plates moved around to accommodate it. Tella screamed in horror, scooting and pulling as best she could to close the final meter between her and the exit, but the black armored figure reached out a massive hand and wrapped his fingers round her ankle.
His head turned inquisitively to one side, then there was a hiss of black air and he removed his helmet with his free hand. His flesh was purple and bloated, his eyelids and mouth sewn shut with thick red thread. Only his warped nostrils remained open, and he brought them in close, so close that they rubbed against her face and head as he took in her scent.
Tella shivered with fear. Her body felt heavy like stone, and cold sweat dripped down her face, mixing with her tears. Looking down at the beast’s belt, she saw her father’s sword tied there. The hilt was covered with blood, and she felt her heart cry out in pain. Everything she loved was dead, and now she was going to die too. Her eyes closed, accepting her fate. It was better this way anyway. What was there to live for?
Then a new feeling began glowing in her heart. It was small at first, like an ember, but quickly grew in heat and intensity. He killed her parents. She held onto that thought like a glowing piece of coal. The anger rose within her, and she felt in that moment like her heart burst into flames.
Her eyes shot open, and she balled her fist and hit the beast on the snout. She balled her other fist and hit it again, then again. She screamed in rage, hitting the creature with all her might, over and over again. She felt indefatigable, like she was drawing upon the power of the sun itself. In her rage she bit with her teeth and clawed with her nails at the man’s bloated face. Finally, her hand found a piece of broken glass and she stabbed it into his snout. The edge of the glass sliced deeply into her fingers, but she pushed all the harder, piercing his thick skin with the tip and drawing a tiny amount of green blood that hardened before it even had a chance to drip.
The beast’s features twisted into a terrible grin, then it began to laugh. A deep bellow that escaped through the seams in the stitches in its lips. He gave her one final sniff, then released her ankle laughing louder and louder as it left the shrine and went into the hall.
Tella wasted no time, she scooted into the longboat, dragging Anthon with her. She could still hear the beast’s laughter long after the hatch closed, long after the longboat fired free from it’s moorings, long after she lost consciousness….she could still hear its laugh.