Here is my latest creation! It does not concern the Eldar at all, but I'm confident most you guys will enjoy it. I'm not going to give anything away though.

Cheers, Cal

Outpost IX


The world of Vilathica III was as desolate and unwanted as a single, dull stone amongst thousands. The planet was a black, barren waist of sharp and jagged rocks. Impassible mountain ranges could be found scattered about the large world, and valleys that cut so deep and were so sheer they were like massive claw marks into the planets surface. No life grew on Vilathica. The constant black smog from the pollution, coupled with Vilathica's distant placing from its sun made it a dark and cold world. It was not a welcoming place, rather a living hell that men would have been sent to for torture rather than active service in the Imperial Guard. It was inconceivable why any living creature would want to come here, yet here they were.

Sergeant Richard Abel of the Black Lizards 567th stood in the command room of his outpost with apprehension, and a thumping headache. Why his men had been stationed out here was beyond him, but he did not care for thinking much at the present. The room he stood in was large and square, well lighted with computer monitors and panels covering the low benches that lined every wall. Above the benches were glass panes that looked out over a black and rocky plain, blanketed with a smoke filled sky. Four other guardsmen from Abel's unit sat at these computers with sunken eyes and tired limbs. In one small corner of the room was a metal door that led to a tiny elevator used to get to the lover levels of the outpost.

The equipment in the command room was used for communication with other command posts, as well as the detection of movement in the area. But mostly it was used to measure seismic activity in the vicinity of Sergent Abel's outpost, as well as the movement of underground magma rivers, and gas pockets. These were the hazards that were faced on Vilathica III, for it was a mining world.

Sgt. Abel was in charge of Outpost IX. That was, outpost IX, of section 51. Below the command room were the soldiers quarters, and a small armoury. Both were tiny and cramped rooms, the soldiers having nothing but metal bunks to sleep on and shared lockers to keep their few personal belongings in.

Underneath them however, were the endless twisting corridors of what was once an active mine. No power was sent down there anymore, making it a maze of dark, black passages that tunneled down into the endless rock. They were lonely, desolate and a nightmare in themselves. Hundreds of men had died underneath the suffocating rock, starved or exhausted they were. Dying slowly, trapped and alone. It was rumoured that the ghosts and living corps of the miners or soldiers stalked the mine, dragging those unlucky enough to find them to the same cold grave. The secrets of the mine were not for sane men, but for the dead alone.

Well, at least thats what the ten soldiers of outpost IX believed.



"Sergeant?" Came the voice of Private Vincent Grey.

Sgt. Abel opened his bloodshot eyes, rubbing his temple with his scared fingers to try and sooth his throbbing head. The Sergeant was not a young man anymore, and carried many scars and lasting injuries as proof of his many years of active service. He had fought in countless conflicts, and had witnessed the true terror of what open war did to men. His entire body was probably more scar tissue than it was skin and organs these days. Abel's heart and lungs were no longer his, but his once best friend who had involuntarily donated them after being shot in the head. His entire right arm was mechanical, and the right side of his face nothing but shrivelled burnt flesh as a result of a overheated plasma pistol. Though the rest of him was organic and his own, his legs were so severely injured that he limped everywhere he went with great pain and difficulty, refusing to be reduced to retirement by a wheel chair.

He was considered a true hero of war by his fellow officers and those who served under him, and it was very difficult to shock or scare him these days. The mental scaring he had endured went deeper than any physical scars. Abel would never talk about his service on previous worlds, but would often be heard screaming the names of former peers and friends in his sleep. Some of the time the Sergeant seemed lost in his own thoughts, and his men feared that the many years of war were slowly decaying at their leader's mind. But regardless Sergeant Richard Abel was still a strong and respected leader, and would be in active service to the imperial guard until the day he died.

It was a true shame however that he had been stationed out on this desolate rock for the past five years. He knew it was his superiors way of retiring him without really retiring him.

"Sergeant Abel, sir!" Pvt. Grey repeated. "Are you in there, sir?"

Sgt. Abel blinked, then slowly turned to face Pvt. Grey, who was smiling mockingly at the Sergeant as he came back to the present.

"What is it Grey?" Abel growled through his pain.

"Skinner and Hamilton have been down in the tunnels for two hours now, sir." Grey stated calmly. "They wanted to know if they could come back now?"

"Did they find anything out of the ordinary?" Abel asked, though he didn't really care about the answer.

"No sir." Grey replied. "Said that one of the southern passages had caved in, but nothing else to report."

"Alright." Abel said slowly. "Bring them both back."

Grey nodded and turned back to the vox he'd been using. He spoke the Sergeant's orders into the receiver and waited for the two Guardsmen in the tunnels to reply.

There had been a tremor in the rock to the south of the outpost, which had occurred less than five hours ago. This was not unusual, but it was protocol for all tremors and quakes to be investigated reported back to the Section 51 command post. It was supposed to assess all damage done to the mines, though Sgt. Abel personally doubted that a cave in, in some long forgotten corridor of the mine, would be to much of a problem. He knew it was a waist of time sending his men into those black passages, and hated doing it every time. But at least it would give them something to do for a period of time.

"I repteat again, unit alpha!" Sgt. Abel heard Grey yell into the vox. "Get your fragging arses back here!"

"What's wrong?" Sgt. Abel asked, spotting the obvious concern and annoyance on Pvt. Grey's face.

"Skinner and Hamilton have lost contact it seems sir." Pvt. Grey said agitatedly. "Their not replying."

Sgt. Abel frowned, and rubbed his temple harder. His headache was getting worse.

"Their vox probably went out of range." He said apprehensively. "If they don't make contact in half an hour, than get yourself and Sliver down there to bring them back. I don't need my men screwing about in some Emperor forsaken mines!"

Abel then turned on his heel and walked towards the elevator down to the sleeping quarters. He was becoming desperate for pain killers.


To Be Continued...

wow that is realy good give us more!

Look forward to the next instalement. Once more, like the rest of your stories Cal, this is very promising, anb dhte beauty of your writing is you usually don't disapoint...

Outpost IX: II


The step of two Imperial Guardsmen echoed down the black corridors of the mine. Private Vincent Grey and Private Julius Sliver walked at a slow and wary pace, incapable of seeing two inches in front of them without the use of torch light. The bright beams fastened to the end of their las-guns illuminated the rough ground in front of them, allowing them to see where they were going. But the darkness still pressed in around them, making them both uneasy and claustrophobic. One never got used to going into these mines, no matter how many times they had in the past.

Private Vincent Grey had been serving in the Imperial Guard for 11 years now. He was the youngest marine posted at Outpost IX, and though it was only by two years, that seemed like a life time in war. The only active service he'd ever seen was when his reserves camp was raided by the Xenos Eldar, during which he was commemorated for his bravery, and good arm, when his grenade downed one of their horrid gliders. But he had not been where the fighting was fiercest, and had not seen his brothers and comrades tortured and murdered the way they had been. Though he had heard their screams of terror and agony, he was still to witness the true horrors of war like his brothers at Outpost IX had.

Pvt. Grey was also shorter than most other marines, and though he had thin limbs they were still quite strong. His bright green eyes and shaved head gave him the comical appearance of still being a young lad, and much to his annoyance his squad mates would call him Junior.

"What do think those Fragging idiots got themselves into, huh?" Pvt. Sliver fumed, referring to Skinner and Hamilton. He didn't want to have to come down into the mine any more than Grey did. "Just how far did they go?"

"They said the cave in was in one of the tunnels to the far south." Grey answered. "I'm guessing it was one of those ones we shoved dynamite down that time. Must of loosened the rock up better than what we thought."

"You mean the dynamite you and Blake threw down there that time." Sliver corrected him with raised eyebrows. "I swear the two of you will get yourselves blown up one day."

The dynamite that Grey and Blake had put down the tunnel had been meant to cave it in so they wouldn't have to go down there again. But the rock had proved harder than they thought, and both the marines had to take an earfull from Sgt. Abel as a result. The seismic activity in the area went off the charts for about a week, but still failed to collapse any of the main southern tunnels.

The southern tunnels were the most hated part of the mine, the area that the Guardsmen dreaded going into more than anywhere else in this forsaken place. The walls were not rough, or cluttered with the sharp jagged rocks that protruded from all surfaces in the northern end of the mine. Nor did they get narrow and cramped like the deep pits of the mine, causing men to get claustrophobic and trapped. Instead the walls were almost as smooth as if they were metal, and the corridors were high enough for men to stand up straight, and walk three abreast. The air here was not as thick or stiffling as it was elsewhere, but cold and fresh, as if the tunnels would eventually open up to the surface of the planet, or some long forgotten underground facility. But nothing had ever been found down here but darkness and more never ending tunnels. No one knew where they came from, nor who made them. It seamed unlikely to the soldiers of Outpost IX, that these corridors were created by the miners. They were to perfect, as if they had been made deliberately to lead somewhere.

It was of course rumoured that these mines were haunted. Many miners had gone missing here when the mine had been active, and Grey had even been told stories of other soldiers disappearing before he had been stationed here. He was certain that it was just his older squad mates trying to make him uneasy though...he was pretty sure.

"They certainly meant a 'far south' tunnel didn't they?" Sliver grumbled again at length. His voice echoed down the long tunnels down, bouncing off of the smooth surfaces. "Whats the fragging bet their back at the outpost right now sipping hot chocolate and smoking a cigar while where stuck down here!"

Sliver's voice was rising with every word, and it was beginning to make Pvt. Grey feel uneasy.

"Keep your voice down." Grey said quietly.

"Or what?" Sliver asked. "Something will here me? There's nothing down here your moron!"

Sliver had always seemed to hate coming down into the tunnels more than anyone else, and he always showed it with a foul mood. Grey and Sliver did not have a particular dislike for each other, but Sliver's attitude annoyed the young Pvt. so much he felt like punch the moron in the jaw. He never dared though, because he knew that Sliver was both bigger and stronger than him, and he didn't want to punch his only hope of finding his way back to the surface.

"Echo!" Sliver yelled down the tunnel they were in. "Any one out there?"

Grey froze as Sliver's reverberating voice carried itself some distance down the tunnel, fearing that someone, or something would hear them. But of course nothing happened, and Sliver's voice soon died back into an still silence.

"Shall we?" Grey whispered at length.

Sliver just smiled at him before continuing down the tunnel. Here the smooth floor began to slope down violently, causing both the marines to almost lose their footing in the darkness. But they righted themselves without to much difficulty and continued on at a brisk pace. Neither spoke as they descended further into the darkness, and the pressing silence started to become more and more unnerving. Before long the two Guardsmen found they had slowed their pace considerably, and Grey had to fight the urge to look back over his shoulder lest his squad mate laugh at him.

The dead silence, the stillness, the darkness. These things soon became more than Grey could stand, and he was about ready to scream simply to make something happened. The Pvt. almost jumped out of his skin when Sliver heaved a gentle sigh behind him, and began to speak.

"That must be the cave in." He said softly. Grey followed his torch beam and saw not to far bellow them, a large pile of rocks completely filled the tunnel.

The two Guardsmen slowly began to relax, knowing that they would be able to turn back soon. All they had to do was find Skinner and Hamilton and the four of them would be on their way back up to the outpost. They did not find Skinner of Hamilton.

"Where the hell did those flamming idiots go?" Sliver exploded when they reached the end of the tunnel, finding it completely empty.

"Calm down." Grey tried to reason. "They can't be far, we might have passed them on the way down."

"Passed them on the way down!" Screamed Sliver. "We only came down one tunnel! There were no others that branched off that I saw!"

Suddenly a sound from back up the tunnel made both Sliver and Grey stop dead. They both turned their heads slowly to look back in the direction they had just come, and raised their torches sharply. But the two beams of light fell on nothing but smooth rock and dirt. Another moment passed and they slowly lowered their guns, convinced it had been nothing.

"Alright." Sliver said at length. "Vox the Sergeant. Tell him we can't find them, so they must be on their way back."

But Grey was not listening to Sliver, instead he was staring at his shoulder with a look of dread fixed upon his face.

"What?" Sliver asked agitatedly. He looked down at his shoulder, and his stomach suddenly lurched with fear. His shoulder was drenched in red blood, which glistened freshly in the torchlight.

Both the Guardsmen looked into each others dreading eyes. Then, slowly, they raised their heads and looked up. Fixed into the ceiling was a metal grate, and from it dripped the red liquid, one small drop at a time.



To Be Continued...

And so it begins continues... Mwahaha!

Nice work. Keep it up.

so umm... Cal to you plan on posting the rest? i know ive read up to around part VIII

Cal's having a few computer issues at the moment. He can get online, occasionally though, so he should post pretty soon.

Never fear! My computer is fixed and here is the next edition.

Any feedback you guys could give me would be fantastic.

Cheers, Cal


Outpost IX: III


Grey now sat on Sliver's shoulders, reaching up to touch the grate above his head. He did not know what he was planning to do, he couldn't even see it inches above his head because their torches were on the ground. But Sliver had told him to hop up and try and open the grate, so thats just what he was going to do. He reached out for it with his fingertips. Touching the cold hard metal was like touching solid ice, and Grey's entire body felt as if it was freezing up. He had to stop himself from panicing when his right hand was placed on a patch of wet fluid, because he knew it was the blood. taking a moment to calm himself, he pushed against the grate with the palm of his hands, trying to force it upwards. But it was fixed in place as if it were apart of the rock ceiling, and would not budge.

"I can't lift it." Grey said, as he strained one last time.

He heard Sliver curse, and then was dropped from the Pvt. shoulders so unexpectedly he ended up as a heap on the ground. Sliver then took up his las-gun, pointed it at the grate, and with a flash of red light blew it open. Parts of the metal grate fell into the tunnel with a loud clatter that echoed against the dark walls, and one particularly sharp piece landed inches from Grey's hand as he pulled himself to his feet.

"Right." Said Sliver, slinging his gun onto his back. This was particularly effective seeming the guns torch now pointed upwards towards the gaping hole in the tunnels ceiling. The edges of the grate had remained intact, and the crimson blood still dripped from the edge of the hole, making it seem like some kind of horrid wound in the tunnel ceiling.

"Lift me up." Sliver said.

Grey walked forward and gave Sliver a boost onto his shoulders, and then unsteadily stood upright to lift him towards the hole. Sliver then lifted himself up through the opening into the darkness. Grey looked up, expecting Sliver to turn around and give him a hand up, but he didn't. Sliver did not re-emerge at all, leaving Grey alone in the silent darkness to stare up at the gaping hole.

"Sliver?" Grey shouted at the hole uneasily. "Sliver whats up there? What do you see?"

But there was no answer, and Grey stood in uneasy silence for what seemed hours. Suddenly he was met with a sickening sound of someone throwing up, and his uneasiness grew almost into panic.

"Sliver!" Grey screamed, fighting to keep his voice level. "Sliver what the frag is up there?"

Still no answer came. Another unbearable moment passed before something heavy dropped out of the gap and landed on the stone floor with a solid thud. Grey could not see exactly what it was at first, needing to dodge aside to avoid being hit by it. But when he turned and shone his torch light directly on it, he had to fight back the urge to scream and run. What he saw made his insides convulse so violently with revulsion and shock he felt as if he would throw up his own heart and lungs. He had to put a hand on a wall to stop himself from collapsing, and was forced to look away as he vomited everything he had in him, and then vomited again.

What lay before him was a corps, one which had been so brutally disembodied that it was barely recognisable as human. The entire thing had been torn of its skin, leaving nothing but a grotesque mass of ripped organs, and muscles that were still attached to the bone by the tendons. The head had been broken off at an odd angle, and the skull broken open like a shell that held within it a repulsive white mass. The eyeballs were still in the sockets, and the jaw was slightly open as if the body still emitting long silent scream of agony. Blood had splattered in every direction when the corps had his the floor, and to his horror Grey found that he was covered in it.

Desperately looking for something else to look at, Grey looked back up to the dark hole in the ceiling, taking his torch light of the mangled body. He saw Sliver staring down at him, covered in the blood from the body. The Pvt.'s eyes bulged in mindless dread, and though Sliver as staring straight at Grey he did not seem to notice him anymore. It was then that Grey realised that three long knives appeared to be piecring Sliver right through the back, red blood drooling from the deep gashes and drenching Sliver's uniform and armour.

Grey could not move. He did not know what to do. He was so drenched in blind horror that he was edging on madness, his legs frozen in place and yet threatening to give way.

The long knives withdrew from Pvt. Sliver's chest, and his body fell out through the gap in the ceiling, hitting the ground at Grey's feet with a sickening crunch. But Grey did not look down, his gaze was still fixed on the gapping hole above. Another hunched figure loomed in the darkness of the cavern above, just out of the torch light. But then it came forth, and Grey saw something out of some long forgotten child's nightmare take form.

It was Pvt. Skinner. Only it was not Pvt. Skinner at all, but some gruesome mockery of him. Grey could see Skinner's flayed and still wet skin wrapped around the limps of this Xenos creature like they were robed. The flesh of Skinner's face was worn like some heinous halloween mask, the eyes appearing sunken and the mouth flopping open to show a row of skeletal, metal teeth. It was as if Skinner's corps had come back from the grave. As if his body was re-animated on this Xenos, who's own limbs seemed to be made out some kind of black metal. It's hands were more like disfigured talons, each finger a long blade. Each as thin and sharp as a surgical scalpel, yet as long and sturdy as a dagger.

Pvt. Grey stared at the creature in wordless horror, minutes ticking by and all this creature did was stare back with a horrid and ghoulish face. The skull underneath the loose flesh looked in the darkness, as if it were smiling wickedly at the frightened Pvt. It then made a movement, as if to drop into the tunnel below with Grey.

But the Pvt. suddenly found he was capable of moving, and out of panic fired his las-gun at the creature with with a bright flash of light. He continued to fire up into the gaping wound in the ceiling, each shot loosening more and more rock. When his clip ran out he changed it as fast as he could and continued to fire, screaming with every shot. When that clip ran out Grey could no longer see the creature above him. A deep rumbling sounded from below him, and Grey knew that the seismic area was picking up again in the area.

The young Pvt. turned as fast as he could and ran, not looking over his shoulder to see the dark figure drop like a shadow into the tunnel. He ran as hard and fast as he could, not stopping though his legs threatened to collaps on him. He did not know where he was running, the confusion and horror of the situation clouding his judgement and sense of direction. All he knew was that he had to get back to the outpost some how. And as he ran, the images of his squadmate's dismembered corps, Sliver's bulging eyes, and the ghoulish creature kept running through his mind.

The rumbling behind him got worse, and it was followed by a great crack as if lightning had struck inside the mines. as he ran, Grey realised there must have been another cave in.


To Be Continued...

more more more!



..... please?

Outpost IX: IV

"What in the name of Holy Terra is happening down there?" Sgt. Abel barked irritably. He'd laid down for was seemed like only a moment before he had been called back up to the command room, and his headache was no better. His face was twisted into a grimace, making the burnt side of his head look even worse as it creased about his mouth and eye.

"Not...not entirely sure sir." Private Harris McGregor replied. "I think there was another movement in the rock at the south end of the mines. I'm trying to contact Pvt. Grey, but his not answering his vox."

"What's Junior gotten himself into this time?" Private Tim Blake asked as he entered the command room.

Pvt. Timothy Blake was probably the most decorated soldier stationed at Outpose IX, besides the Sergeant himself. He was brave, headstrong and arrogant, which was exactly what Sergeant's and Commissar's looked for in their soldiers. To his superiors he was the perfect soldier, willing to execute any command given with ambition and integrity. Sgt. Abel often wondered how the poor lad had ended up on a pointless rock like Vilathica III, and thought he'd be better suited to the excitement and adventure some Ptv.'s saw in war.

However, to his peers Blake was ****y and a smart arse. It was impossible not to admire the man, but many of his squad mates disliked his often self absorbed and hooligan attitude. He was quick witted and funny, though his practical jokes and stupid ideas often got him into a lot of trouble. It was his idea to throw the dynamite down the southern tunnels, hoping to blow the cursed things to hell, but of course it did not work. Luckily for him, Blake's charming nature and silver tongue got him out of a lot of tight spots with his superiors.

"You're up early." McGregor commented when he saw Blake.

"I would have slept longer, had I not been woken up by the Sergeant's yelling." Blake smiled, displaying his perfect white teeth. "Could of woken the dead from a mellenia long dormancy."

"Shut up, Blake." Sgt. Abel commented. He liked Blake, but was not int the mood for his smart mouth at the present. "Get back to work McGregor! Have you made contact with anyone down there?"

"Who's down there?" Blake asked, still wiping the sleep out of his eyes."

"Nearly the entire fragging unit!" McGregor said, now avoiding Abel's glare. "I think I've got something."

The four Guardsmen all went quiet as static began to come from the large vox unit. This carried on for a few moments before a high pitched voice could be heard from the speakers, shouting out words in what sounded like hysteria. They all recognised it as Grey's voice immediately, though what he was saying was impossible to tell. He was speaking to fast to be heard properly.

"Grey...Gre-.....Grey!" McGregor struggled to say into the vox. "Grey!.....Grey, fragging calm down! We can't hear a word you are saying!"

Sgt. Abel and Blake exchanged puzzled looks as McGregor tried to calm their squad mate. Something had happened down in those mines.

"Grey shut the frag up!" McGregor shouted finally. "Start from the start! What the hell happened down there?"

"Something....something in the mines!" Grey's strangled voice said. "There's something down here in the mine! We found Skinner and Hamilton....they were...they were dead!....Their skin torn off!....Something killed them! Then killed Sliver!......I swear.....There is something down here!"

It was evident from Grey's voice that he was out of breath, and that something had really spooked him. Sgt. Abel's grimace worsened, giving him the the look of something ghastly. He turned his head to find Blake frowning as well, concern showing in the Pvt.'s expression. Grey and Blake were good friends, Blake treating him like he was a younger brother more than a squad mate.

"Bah!" Blake spat, standing up from where he had seated himself. "I'll bet it was those three clowns playing a prank on the poor kid! I'll go down and get him."

"Take Blithe with you!" Sgt. Abel instructed angrily.

"What for?" Blake said, trying to smile again. "I can take those three on by myself. A good flash light up the butt and they won't be playing ghosts in the mine for months."

Blake then exited the command station with a long stride.

"Get Grey to tell you where he is." The Sergeant barked at McGregor. "And be quick about it! I want him up here to tell me exactly what happened down there from start to finish."

Sergeant Abel was silently praying that Blake was right, and that it was just the other marines playing a practical joke on the young lad. But something inside him had dropped at the sound of Pvt. Grey's voice, and he had a horrid feeling about this situation. The sort of feeling he got every time before stepping out onto the field of battle.



To Be Continued...

Sorry, its been a while since I posted this here. I got a bit sidetracked..anywho, here is the next part.

Outpost IX: V



Pvt. Blake and Pvt. Blithe now walked along the black corridors of the mine, searching for their squad mate. They were both armoured up in their regiments, something they had rarely done these days despite protocol. Flash lights shone from their helmets as well as their las-guns, and Pvt. Blake had his goggles pulled over his eyes.

Unlike the other soldiers at Outpost IX, Pvt. Blake had cast personal grooming to the wind. He chin and prominent cheeks were always covered in dark stubble, and his hair was most often long and untamed. His thick eyebrows and hard jaw gave him quite an intimidating appearance when he was angry, though his smile was relaxed and arogant, like he had the universe at his feet.

"...He's just under you Blake. There should be a ladder near by that you can drop down onto him from..." Came the voice of Pvt. McGregor over the vox.

"Righto." Blake replied. "We'll give you a shout when we have him."

Blake and Blithe walked on in silence, the darkness pressing in as always, though neither of the older guardsmen were overly bothered by it. The sound of their boots crunched on the gravel of the tunnel floor as they slowly walked onwards, Blake flashing his torches on uneven ground looking for a man hole or trap door. They were quite deep into the mine. However they had been going straight down, and so were essentially right under the outpost. Here was where most of the mining had been done, and a lot of tools and equipment had been left behind as evidence. Shovels, picks and wheelbarrows all apart of this collection, as well as deliberate trap doors into other tunnels above and below. The rock walls were marked with scratches from the mining equipment, and hollowed out in places to give it both smooth and rough textures.

"What do you think they did to the poor kid?" Blithe asked, his hushed voice echoing in the tunnel's and making Blake jump.

"Keep your voice down!" Blake hissed before answering. "I don't know. But when I find them I'm going to shove the Sarge's fake eye down their throats, and make 'em cr*p it back out in one piece as punishment!"

Blithe smiled, though he was used to Blake's jokes by now.

"That looks like that's it over there." Blithe said, shining his torchlight on a
round break in the cavern floor. An iron ladder descended into the tunnel below, and the darkness of the man hole seemed to beckon to the soldiers.

"After you." Blake said cheerfully, looking into the blackness under them. He then looked up to find Blithe wasn't smiling, grunted, and began climbing onto the ladder. "Gents first I guess."

The ladder was not very long, and Blake soon touched solid ground again. When he had dismounted the iron rungs, he swung his torchlight around to find himself in a tunnel not dissimilar from the one above. However this cavern was narrower and more cramped. Blake had to duck to avoid hitting his head on the stone ceiling, and he would now have to go forward with Blithe behind him instead of next to him.

"Coming ma'am?" Blake asked as Blithe dismounted the ladder, though he was no longer in a joking mood at all. Something about this tunnel had unsettled him, though perhaps it was just his slight claustrophobia. Stalegmites and stalactites lined the ceiling and floor of the cavern, and cast shadows where they blocked the torchlight. This tunnel did not seem like it was mined, and looked almost natural though it felt nothing of the sort.

Blake chose a direction and began advancing at a slow pace down the cavern, trying to make as little noise as possible. Blithe was silent behind him, and Blake kept looking over his shoulder to make sure that his squad mate was still with him. The air felt cold but strangely moist, and as he hunched forward through the darkness Blake could swear he could smell something foul. He grimaced trying to ignore it despite that it was getting stronger. Soon the horrid stench curled so thickly in the air that it made Blake want to vomit, though he had no idea what it was.

"Hey, Blithe." Blake whispered behind him, still trying to see into the darkness ahead of him. "You let one of partner?"

"I was just thinking the same thing." Blithe replied in a hushed voice. "What in the world is that smell?"

Both the soldier's forheads were drenched in sweat as they continued their advance, each step taking them closer to the hideous stink. Their mouths and throats became dry making it painful to swallow, and the sweat got in their eyes making it even more difficult to see ahead of them. But then, in the gloom ahead of them Blake spotted something.

He could not make it out yet, but as he steadily advanced he kept his torch light deadcentred on the object. He signalled for Blithe to stick close behind him before move forward to get a better look at the object, his gun trained carefully on it. Then, he realised what it was.

"Sweet merciful hell!" He breathed.

They had found the source of the foul stench. They had found Private Grey.



To Be Continued...

Outpost IX: VI


Pvt. Timothy Blake stood in the dark tunnel, his brain numb with shock. He looked down at the mutilated corps of Pvt. Grey, disgust and and anger beginning to slowly build inside his chest as his senses returned. He no longer noticed Blithe, standing behind him in a similar state, or the dark tunnel he stood in. Grey's corps filled his entire vision, the splintered bones and raw organs and muscles tattooing themselves into Blake's mind. The sheer terror of finding his younger comrade defiled in such a state was enough to send Pvt. Blake spiraling into a fit of rage and despair. Yet his limbs felt weak and clumsy as the shock died and was replaced slowly by sorrow and hopelessness, and Blake wanted to cry.

At that moment Blake heard a sound behind him, and turned sharply to stare in the eyes of Pvt. Blithe. Blithe had not moved however, and stood staring back at Blake with wide, terrified eyes. Blake could see the shock in his squad mate's expression rivaling his own, and could see the dryness of Blithe's open mouth, and the red veins that snaked through the corners of his wide eyes. But then Blake saw something move behind Blithe, like the shadows of the tunnel themselves had stirred.

Blake raised his gun, piercing through the darkness with his torchlight. Blithe's eyes went wider and he dodged aside thinking that Blake was aiming at him, but he was aiming at something far more dreadful. The creature that stood in the tunnel before the two marines was both horrifying and repulsive to look upon. Its wiry limbs were made of what looked like black metal, however they did not gleam in the torchlight but rather appeared as one with the shadows. The creatures face was that of a gaunt human skull, glaring sinisterly out of empty sockets and twisted into an inhuman grin. The creatures hands were replaced with gruesome and cruel looking talons, capable of tearing flesh from bone with surgical precision. The rest of its skeletal body was draped in the torn, still wet skin of Pvt. Vincent Grey. They hung from the creatures limbs like it had once been its own skin, and had decayed over time like that of a some long dead corps.

Blake wanted to scream at the site of the creature. He wanted to run down the tunnel as fast as he could and escape up the ladder into the corridor above. But his pride would not allow it, and he felt the flame of hatred and revenge burning defiantly inside of him. Pvt. Blake stood his ground and raised his las-gun, a steely expression was fixed upon his face. Pvt. Blithe stood beside him, trying his best not to flee. But his moral was boosted by the raw determination in his squad mate's face.

Blake opened fire with his las-gun, the red bolts pounding into the nightmarish creature like they were driven by the Pvt's own rage. They burned the loose flesh producing of a vulgar smell, and slowly melted the thing's black metallic skin. Eventually one bolt of red light struck the creature right between the ribs, causing it to crumple to its knees and collapse back against the cavern wall.

"Come on!" Blake cried, taking the opportunity to escape. He bolted up the tunnel as fast as he could, leaving both the corps of Grey, and his murderer, behind. He expected Blithe to be right behind, but he wasn't.

"Look!" He heard Blithe scream from over his shoulder, and Blake turned to see his
comrade pointing to the creature's body. It was moving. Slowly it struggled to its feet, and Blake watched in wonder, and dread, as its melted limbs corrected themselves. The metal skin flowed into the wounds like liquid, filling them and then reshaping to reform the skin as it had been before. Soon the creature was fully repaired, and lumbered down the tunnel towards the stunned Guardsmen.

Blithe and Blake both raised their las-guns and started firing hysterically at the horrid thing, while still trying to advance backwards down the tunnel. The combination of both their weapons was enough to fell the creature again. But the pit of Blake's stomach dropped when another appeared out of the gloom behind the first, coming from the direction of Grey's corps. The guardsmen were almost hysterical, firing inaccurately at the second creature while the first rose once again. They both stalked towards the guardsmen like horrid, walking corps. And though the guardsmen were almost running, these creatures seemed to keep up with them effortlessly despite their lumbersome steps. This time neither Blake nor Blithe could fell the grotesque creatures, and so they both turned and ran up the tunnel at full speed. begging the ladder to come into site.

But the creatures were on them within seconds, the first one raising his taloned hand and slicing down on Blithe's back. The soldier screamed as his spin was severed, and blood sprayed out his back, all over his attacker and the cave walls. He tripped and fell to the dusty floor, his head striking a rock and knocking him senseless. His head swam desperately, yet the pain pierced through his mind as the skin on his legs were torn from the muscle. He tried to stretch out his arms and claw himself free, but he couldn't get his thoughts straight or coordinate himself. The pain was unbearable, like senseless torture. He couldn't think clearly, or see or hear properly. He couldn't even hear the sound of his own screaming, the blades of the creatures hands slicing through flesh and bone causing excruciating amounts of pain. Eventually those twisted claws pierced his chest, and Blithe tasted his own blood in the back of his mouth as his lungs were punctured.

Blake however had not stopped running, despite the haunting screams of his comrade chasing behind him. He knew that if he had hesitated for a moment he would suffer the same fate as all his squad mates, and that will to live and adrenaline coursed through his veins giving him strength. His feet pounded the stone floor as he ran, dodging through the stalagmites and stalactites, desperately searching for the ladder ahead.

That adrenaline was overtaken by dread however, when the torchlight of Blake's gun shone on a third of the metallic creatures in front of him. This one was skin free, lumbering forward and barely visible in the dark tunnels. Blake was about ready to surrender, to stab himself through the chest rather than undergo the torture of being skinned alive. But he did not stab himself. He spotted the slight gleam of the metal ladder ahead in his torchlight, and a last speck of hope began burning in his heart. He darted down the tunnel as fast as his legs would take him, and reached the ladder before his nemesis in front of him. He darted up the rungs as fast as humanly possible, and when he was in the tunnel above he kept running in the direction of the outpost.

He had to get back to the surface and warn Sgt. Abel that there really was something down here. He had to warn Abel before he sent more men down. Men that would be slaughtered like those who had been already.

Pvt. Timothy Blake darted up the black tunnel of the mine, leaving both Grey and Blithe behind.



To Be Continued...

Very good! I want more!

cheers! :)


It has been a while since I updated this story actually.....and since I finished it too. If I get around to it I'll post up some more for you all to read.

Cal

Nice Read. I'm looking forward to the next part

another good read, thanks Cal.
all your stories are definately making my night shifts a lot more enjoyable now i have something decent to read.

so lets get the next instalment, were waiting

WOW. Cal. just finished reading it. fantastic. flayed ones always prompt a good scare in me when intwined fabulusly into an amazing story, and ive read a few of them. this tops it, by far, well done.

you deserve a pulitzer for that no joke.


Cant wait for the next installment

P_F