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A Necessary Evil - A short story in the 41st Millennium

 Post subject: A Necessary Evil - A short story in the 41st Millennium
PostPosted: Tue Nov 20, 2007 10:17 am 
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Joined: Sat Jul 21, 2007 4:56 am
Posts: 90
Location: England
I wrote this a while ago when I was bored and decided to do a short bit of writing to keep me occupied. Please please let me know what you think so that I can improve my writing style. For your information, a "yankde bird" is a creature native to my Guard regiment's homeworld, Regensus II.

'In the name of the immortal God-Emperor of mankind, with His authority and command I-'
'Give it up Loska, you ass!' interrupted a second voice. 'How can you not see the potential here?'
'- you Excommunicate Hereticus,' Inquisitor Loska continued.
'How can mankind grow stronger if not for conflict and adversity?'
'Fischer Kreutzberg. For the sins of your doing you are sentenced to summary termination.'
'These things are necessary for the continued existence of humanity. Mankind has made its greatest achievements after periods of strife. The Horus Heresy, the Age of Apostasy - these things made the Imperium what it is today. We are far more powerful than we ever were before. How can you not understand this?'
The safety lock of Loska's boltgun clicked loudly in the dark shadows of the Sanctum Imperialis.
'Oh gak you!' Kreutzberg spat and his mind left his body.
Taking the form of a diving yankde bird, Kreutzberg assailed Loska, his psychic strength breaking with ease through the weak psy-barriers that surrounded the Inquisitor. Loska's rushed up to meet him as a bear swiping at him with furred paws. A paw carved scratched on the yankde's body. Kreutzberg became a great spine crab, his fore-pincers closed around the bear's arm.
The two minds engaged in a dance as they clashed, disengaged and reformed above the tiled stone floor of the Sanctum in a storm of psychic power. Kreutzberg was having to use all of his power in dealing with the Inquisitor, but he knew that Loska too was stretched to his limits. Stained-glass windows, depicting images of the God-Emperor and his Primarch sons, were cracked and smashed under the pressure of the psychic build-up in the Sanctum. Pews were torn from the floor and scattered, snapping and breaking apart. The helpless mewing issuing from below the Sanctum turned to desperate cries of terror and pain.
She is coming, Loska, you cannot stop this. She feeds now, gathering her strength. Kreutzberg psy-talked. For the good of the Imperium.
The good of the Imperium? Loska returned. Your kind will destroy us all with your treachery.
Loska's mind reformed into a serpent, wrapping around Kreutzberg in coils, constricting and crushing him. The screaming below had ceased, the victims forever silenced.
Too late, Loska.
Loska released his grip on Kreutzberg and became one with his body once more. Crouching down, the Inquisitor drew an icon from the folds of his greatcoat, hexagrammic wards and runes upon its surface glowing bright. Kreutzberg stayed where he was. He knew what was coming. He knew what it was capable of.
He knew how futile it would be to resist their fate.
A psychic boom hit them, a wave of new born energy that swept them away, consuming their souls. His face contorted into a macabre grin, Kreutzberg collapsed to the floor, dead.
Phang'zulssn, chosen of Tzeentch, swooped past Inquisitor Kreutzberg, its host body still clutching the hexagrammic icon in one hand.

Then there was silence, for a little while.

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