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Demonslayer Chronicles by flood grunta
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Demonslayer Chapter 1: Shaking All Over
Date: 30 August 2005, 11:14 am
Celius O'namee walked up a long purple ramp towards a meeting point for chosen recruits to be sent up for a very "special" mission, as the prophet of knowledge had said. He walked up to his partner for the mission, Otax L'otamee.
L'otamee was his chosen partner for many missions, as was he O'namee's dearest friend. They had saved each-other's lives on the field of battle many times.
"O'namee," said l'otamee in his polished golden armour. "You made it, I wasn't expecting that."
"YOU never expected that ambush assault on halo though, did you?" O'namee replied in a smug voice. The golden elite then chuckled in a low "wort, wort, wort"
"I didn't know that YOU knew about those new human tanks on reach! You were running away before your grunts!"
"Ok, so if you try to board a tank again I won't get a medikit for you then?"
"Oh come on! When that thing turned it's turret you were away like this!" The elite snapped his fingers. A sudden jolt of pain rose though O'namee's body. he let out a roar of agony and clutched his head. L'otamee jumped in surprise.
"I am sorry my brother, I don't think you should not go on this mission if you still have this illness."
"no," O'namee replied in a voice through clenched mandibles "I will do this, ill or not, I will do this, starving or not,. I ill do this, dying or not. I will do always what the prophets command."
O'namee had an unknown illness in which somehow, if exposed to sudden loud noises, would send a shock of pain storming quickly from head to hoof. He had been infected for around five months, and his commander, Sante Talius, had forbidden from going on any mission until the illness had died down. Sante had to disobey strict orders from the prophet of wisdom to send him up to them. No-one knew, not even the honour guards, why they wanted him up so badly. O'namee had a slight suspicion that he might find out today, and that it might have something to do with the illness.
They came to a very long tubular grav-lift in which the soldiers were propelled upwards at high speeds. This particular lift went to the very top of the cruise ship. Most other lifts had been closed off due to "grunt rebellion" action. O'namee stepped into the lift and, in a split second, was hurtling upwards with seven elites following behind. Sante shouted from behind
"it's going to be a long trip, at least fourty five minutes, so you can take a rest on the way." O'namee needed no sleep as he had virtually been asleep for four months.
When they had almost reached the top and everybody was awake L'otamee said to O'namee
"why are you going through this any way, jut because you are allowed doesn't mean you have to go through with this." O'namee turned back to face the way he was going "fair enough" sighed L'otamee. Suddenly, a high pitched humming started up O'namee felt a sharp pain surge through his body again, he tried to pull a straight face until it went away, but something was different, it kept on coming, getting higher and higher, louder and louder until he was forced to let out cry of pain and curl up in a ball and scream in agony. Something landed on the top of L'otamee's head, he looked up to see that O'namee was crying, but it wasn't tears he was crying, it was blood. He looked all over O'namee's body, blood seemed to be leaking from every where, even from under his armour
"O'namee," he shouted tugging his leg "O'namee, O'namee! O'NAMEE!" but it was no use, through his own wails and the sound no-one else could hear, he was utterly deaf to others. O'namee looked at his fingers the claws were getting longer and were retracting at the same time, he felt the back of his head, where a spiny bone seemed to be jutting out. Spines then penetrated from the front to back of his head, more spines were coming out of the elbows, shoulders and chest. Something was forming at the end of the spine, going into a long pointed tail. The pain was intense; his hearts were pounding at what seemed to be fifty times a second which pumped out more and more blood. He looked down to see every elite staring in shock at him, he could also see that the tube he had been passing through had been drenched in purple blood, as were the spattered elites that were just as powerless as he was to stop it. The humming was at the highest note an elite can hear and was probably at over five hundred decibels he felt something pushing against his back. He knew something was going to come out. He gave a huge scream as his chest plate came shooting off him, ripped in two parts down the middle, the glass shattered as two wings burst out of his back like a bullet ripping trough an orange peel. they were then smacked behind him again as he entered an unbroken part of the tube. The engine on the grav-lift failed and small ledges flicked out for the elites to hold on to, but O'namee was too weak to hold on. He began falling back through the now coloured tube, when L'otamee grabbed his hand and started hauling him up to the top and put him down on the floor. O'namee went down on his hands and knees to watch blood trickle onto the ground. He saw his reflection. He looked like a monster. One of the facts he hadn't noticed earlier was his eyes were turned to a bright shade of yellow. Then he started wheezing and coughing until a drenched, purple heart hung by threads from his mandibles. He looked up to see L'otamee's figure fading away and managed to cough the words:
"thank you." He then looked at the ground and fainted.
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