| Extremis Diabolus
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| Part IV: The Diseased Machine As the Phthisis began to develop into the retching stage, the traitor Marines still had not attacked the capital of Pandema. It had been three weeks since the Cultor Pestilus arrived in orbit. The people that lived away from the slums, away from the filth and decay of the city had no notion of the events that were unfolding except for what they heard through rumour. They believed the situation was under control and that the plague was receding. The people soon began to see otherwise. Until this time, shipments of goods had always come to Pandema. The other cities on the planet were, like Pandema, quite industrious. Food, construction materials, weapons, ammunition and many other supplies arrived daily to prepare Pandema for the apparently imminent attack. The supplies were not absolutely necessary, as the city had its own manufacturing sector and farming centres. But more than bullets were included with the shipments. Hope, confidence, and fighting spirit were instilled with every piece of bread, every ton of plasteel, every lasgun. But after the third week, the shipments started to wane. Penicalica fruit juice was no longer shipped from Meningus, las-packs no longer received from Teberslis, and fresh ceramite no longer arrived from Fluri. From some routes came great caravans of people, fleeing across the desert to Pandema. With them came stories of woe, of great heaving, hideous armoured men from whom an aura of disease, decay and death permeated. These abominations swept over their defences, bombarding through walls, breaking down barricades, and even dropping from the skies. The gruesome armoured monsters unleashed a storm of blazing death with their guns, mowing down great numbers with their never-ending gunfire. The stories painted an ugly picture for the masses who assumed that all was still well. With them, the refugees brought hopelessness, desperation and despair. The city became sullen and crowded, and supplies were in short supply. Then the supplies began to become harmful to the citizens. Bread was found mouldy in the containers, plasteel weak and brittle, and lasguns broken and battered. The shipments were burned upon arrival for fear they would spread the phthisis anew. After several dock and gate workers became ill, full environmental suits were required, and eventually, all shipments were not even allowed to enter the city. This was at first of no concern as the city industry, while it had slowed because of the reduction of labourers, was still booming. Supplies continued to flow from the industrial areas, and the citizens rested, assured in the knowledge that their city had the plague under control. In the fourth week, after the massive smokestacks of the foundries and manufactoria slowly began to belch great plumes of sickly green-gray smoke, covering large parts of the city in a choking smog that smothered the slums and ghettoes of the city. Mucus, bile and pus began to flow from the drain pipes of the great industrial sector into the soil and streets of the city. Dark red blood began to drip from the very walls of the furnaces, pooling in vast quantities on the floors. Supplies from the industrial sector were no longer safe to consume, and they unleashed a new wave of phthisis on the city. Soon no supplies came at all, and no word came from the factory foremen. Mutants and degenerates began to flow from the beating heart of the rot and oozed into the city. They attacked anyone they saw, dripping with the blood, mucus and smile that poured from the factories they once worked in. The Arbites and PDF were once again called upon to quell the uprising. This resistance was stiffer even that any previous attack or revolt. In some places the horrendous rabble pushed the policing forces back into the city, forcing them to evacuate the citizens as they gave ground. All the while the Cultor Pestilus remained in orbit, silent as the grave. __________________________________________________ ___________
By the way guys, you are free to post or PM me if you think my writing has deteriorated. I think some of it may have (Pt. III of this story in particular), which is why I say this. Cheers!
__________________ Lord of Fluff and Blood Angels Herald of Nurgle "I wield my power with the Emperor's Authority. Those who would say that I am 'radical' merely have minds too small and impotent to realize all the weapons at their disposal. Do not question my methods on account of these so-called 'Puritans'." -Inquisitor Mathias Rosenadel |