Deathwatch: Unpublished Fiction (FUNNY VERSION)
Disclaimer: Warhammer 40,000 / Deathwatch and all races belongs to Games Workshop.
Note: This a fiction for the contest New Story Contest on Sofurry.
Copyrighted characters and items belongs to their respective owners.
FUNNY VERSION - See ending
DEATHWATCH
It was the witching hour, nothing so crude as midnight of course. Anyone can be a witch at midnight under a full moon. It was past 3 am and he had been awoken by a hand on his shoulder, shaking him urgently. His eyes opened to an unfamiliar ceiling and the usual questions of "Who am I?" "Where am I?" "Am I wearing clothes?" filled his head and were promptly banished. A finger pressed against his lips and words were whispered into his ear barely above the threshold of hearing, the voice one of a distant memory his sleep addled brain could not yet recollect.
"I want to tell you a secret."
A secret. A damn secret. Anybody can be a heretical witch tonight and whispering things unknown into an open mind. The hand is still shaking me, urging me to come awake. I hear distant muffled booming and strikes of metal on hard rock from far away.
The ground is ... shaking? Dull thumps vibrating through my body.
The finger is still at my lips and the words of a secret thrumming in my ears.
I can feel my heart thudding in my chest. Thumping hard, strongly, out of control.
"I want to tell you a secret," the figure says. He blinks his eyes. The face is ... swirling? What in all that is holy...?
It is now a muffled whisper in my head. My ears have ringing bells in them. Every time I am breathing out it is as if searing hot air is huffing from my nose.
I now can see the mouth, but the head is turning, churning, swirling. My eyes hurt and I squeeze them shut. Hearing whatever that swirling, twisted head is whispering to me.
"I want to tell you a secret."
"I want to tell you a secret."
"I want to tell you a secret."
My eyes shot open as I open my mouth to scream at it to be silent.
But...
Wait. Why is it gaping open and closing? Is it... shouting?
The finger at my lips lifts away and the palm it is on touches my face. But why is my head rolling to the side slowly? Why such a soft touch can sway my head? Than it touches the other side of my face and my head turns again, rolling to face the other direction. Than again, than again, than again. Every time it touches my head, I can feel my skull vibrating. Vibrations going pleasantly through my head and mind. My jaw jerks and my cheeks feeling warmer with every open palmed touch.
I was... enjoying it. And feeling...
Sleepy again.
Rest.
No, it I must stay awake. I can feel my eyelids flutter. Trying to close, but the mouth keeps moving as my head rolls like a broken toy. Jawing up and down, the voice whispering, "I want to tell you a secret."
A hard rumble goes through my body and the soft palming ceases and the figure seems to fly gracefully away from me. My arm sluggishly lifts up to grab it, but flops down roughly as something, with a loud muffled 'CLONG' strikes hard at it. Vibrations thrum up my arm as small sandy pellets brush on my face and muffled clattering of stone rings in my ears. I see small chunks of flying glowing ... rocks? Flying with the soft figure. Than raining down.
Its' whispers stopping midway, "I want to tell... you..."
Than a loud dull 'BROOoooooooomm'. My ears feel like I'm underwater and I hear a high pitch wailing. Sharp and high. Drills through my skull. I clench and groan and squeeze my eyes shut again. Throbbing pain goes through my head, but...
Where am I? Than the heavy rumbling is gone. I open my eyes and the ceiling is no longer there. I can see the sky and it is grey. Raining sandy pellets on my face, making me shut my eyes again. The soft pattering on my face wakens me further and my hearing starts to get sharper. My head clearer.
It is cloudy. The sky. Wait. It's not midnight. It's not 3am. I think it was but it is not. It is always the time I wake up in the strike cruiser in space.
I was in a room. My full moon was a bright lamp light. Now a broken bulb.
And I was not asleep.
I am not naked.
I am inside something.
My hands scrap on the rough surface of the ground. It's hard and rocky. My heart stabilizes itself and I hear loud thumping noises around me and continuous sharp cracks, like someone squeezing on a plastic bottle. My head throbs dully and I can hear around me are soft whining as I move. Whining from a machine.
It is when I lift my right hand up and it feels heavy, only to see it in a metal glove with a chain dangling at the wrist. My eyes follow the metal line to take in the round ball attach to it.
But... it is not a round ball. It is a pommel. My eyes shot wide open and my breath quickens. Oxygen giving more life to my brain to function, waking up. With effort, I heave to my side, more machine whining sounds and to a chain sword.
Than it all rushes back to me.
Hekrie XI. A habitat planet. System fringe world. Populace under raid. Revelar diverted. Deathwatch rush in. Drop pod.
Drop pod.
The drop pod. I was in a drop pod. My battle brothers. My brothers.
I turn on my chest and lift myself up. Servos whine and strain as it got me on my knees. I huff loudly as my power armour compensates my weight. I got on my feet only to slump down on my rump with a loud metallic clang vibrating throughout my body. I grip the hilt of the chainsword in my right hand as I look around. The broken husk of a drop pod is beside me a few meters away. I must have been flung out when the doors open. It must have been a big explosion on the drop pod to throw me out when we reach the ground as the doors open to deploy us. Just as we are coming out.
Damnation. They knew where we are dropping down
Dull thumping noises ring out far from me. I can hear them. Loud, muffled but consistent.
My helmet is just in front of me and I lean forward to get it. My armoured left leg scrape against another metallic object under it. I grab my helmet and put it on. Immediately, readouts from my power armour greet my eyes, telling me of my body's status. I am wounded and had taken a rough pounding. Heavy bruising, but no broken bones. Some bleeding on my head.
Reaching under my left leg with my left hand, I drag out the offending object. I sigh in thanks to all that is Holy as my hand rests in the familiar grip of my bolt pistol. It was under my body all along as I am on my back on the ground. Garbled words greet my ears as my suit tries to connect communications to my Captain.
I check my pistol and shakes the dust off it. It is badly scraped in many areas, but the massive bulk of the weapon shows no sign of extreme damage. I unload the clip and mutter a prayer to the machine spirit of the pistol, as I check it. Satisfied and with a prayer to the Father, I holster my bolt pistol.
I check myself with a glance, glad nothing is out of place, but many scorched areas on my power armour. When I return, I will have to placate the machine spirit of my sacred power armour and give it a good paint job. The golden eagle, the Aquila on my chest piece is a mess. I curse whatever that deface the icon on my armour will pay dearly for this slight. With a heave and using my chainsword to lift myself up, I get back to my feet and walk towards the pod that ejected me roughly, the sword revving in ready.
My helmet telling me the area is currently clear, but that may change any minute. The whisper of telling me a secret filters through my mind. I shake my head, clearing it to focus and be ready for anything. Living or ...
Dead.
Corpses litter the ground at the opposite side of the drop pod. My scorched armoured hand grips the burned metal side of the pod as I step over one the corpses. The metal boots crunching bones and charred flesh under it with every step I take. My vox unit garbles words as it tries to establish the connection again with my Captain and any members of my squad.
Sounds of bolter fire and a muzzle flash from ahead of me attract my attention. My helm zooms in to the situation in front of me. A hulking figure of space marine is dodging enemy fire in and out of cover in the streets. Rays of light from the sun pierce through the clouds, giving me a clear view of the marine's chapter symbol at his right pauldron on his shoulder. The image of a black bird with a tear drop of blood identifies him as Battle Brother Althair from the Blood Raven Chapter.
He jumps through a doorway and is now holding his position in a burned out one story building.where our objective is located within its' cold underground basements. Bolts of gunfire from another building in the opposite direction smash into the charred construct as his fellow brother respond in kind. Puffs of smoke show enemy fire hitting the area around him, pinning him down.
That voice. That whisper from whatever it is that was over me. "I want to tell you a secret."
As I stalk over to my Battle Brother carefully, I now know what is. The secret...
I am still alive.
And so are my fellow battle brothers from other chapter monasteries.
And I, ready, to dispense holy righteous wrath on the enemies of the Emperor of Mankind.
Courtesy of an Ultramarine from the Inquisition's Deathwatch.
And our sacred and secret objective...
To secure the confectionery required by the Inquisitor for future exploits. Simply put, a box of, deemed in the eyes of the Inquisitor as rare, Austrian chocolates to bribe the Planetary Governess of Hekrie VII to let him return and visit her regarding 'matters of Inquisitorial Importance and Commitment'.
Even though the planet is Hekrie System's primary exporter for five systems of high quality finished agricultural products... mainly chocolates.