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Never Give a Yandere a Bolter [A Cliche (Yandere) 40k Romcom] Ch.16
🕑 Added 2023-05-27 23:10:46 +0000 UTCThe effect of the statue’s perverse transformation was immediate and pronounced. Its stone skin cracked and fell away, revealing a crimson hide underneath. Its now-eternally screaming face broke away like a poorly-fitted mask. Great, curved horns grew out of the side of its head. The broken halo around the statue’s neck turned into a wreath of Warpfire.
The… thing that replaced the statue stood straight, shaking off the remaining flecks of stone. The very fabric of reality seemed to Warp around it, bringing with it the screams of the damned. Everything about the… creature was brutal and evil. Bulging muscles rippled all across its body. A great sword, dripping with blood, appeared in its hand with a burst of Warpfire.
It scanned the room with an unnatural sense of calm. Its savage smile stretched wider as it took in all of its soon-to-be victims. Blood and bile leaked from between its teeth. Its sweeping gaze stopped on Sabine and she found herself staring into the eyes of a being composed of pure malice and bloodthirsty rage.
The thing that could only be a fiendish Daemon from the depths of the Warp snarled at Sabine. Its blade cried out for blood, screaming for her soul. It charged her, filling the air with bloodlust and killing intent. And despite all of her training and experience, Sabine froze.
Her life flashed before her eyes and Sabine found herself disappointed. She’d served the Emperor dutifully in all things. And it was only fitting for her to find her end at the edge of a Hellspawn’s blade. Yet… Sabine wasn’t satisfied.
Even a mere month ago, Sabine would have accepted her seeming fate. She would have fought until her last breath, hopefully taking the Hellspawn with her, but she would have accepted it. Now, though… Now she had something to live for besides her service to the Emperor. She would not surrender her life to the Great Enemy. Not while Octus Humblestock was still out of her grasp.
Her chainsword came up to meet the Daemon. But before she could even brace herself for the impact, she felt herself begin to fall backward. She saw her Octus standing in front of her, his arms outstretching in a pushing position and his back to the Daemon. His face was grim and accepting, except for an apologetic smile he saved for her.
Horror grew in Sabine’s gut as she watched Octus close his eyes in acceptance. The very next moment, Sabine watched the beautiful face of her light twist in pain. His head flew, sliced through at the neck, and his body quickly followed it. He landed a few meters away and Sabine didn’t even have the chance to stare in shock.
Her focus, her rage, and her conviction turned onto the Daemon. She was on her feet in an instant, matching blades with the thing she now despised most in the galaxy and shouting right back at its face. For a moment, Octus’ decapitated body lay temporarily ignored but not forgotten.
In a stroke of pure coincidence, Octus’ body had landed perfectly positioned under his head. He looked almost whole if one ignored the seemingly fatal separation at his neck. But Octus’ decapitation wasn’t quite fatal. Octus was only ‘mostly dead’. There’s a big difference between mostly dead and all dead. Mostly dead is still slightly alive… His head rolled just a bit closer until he was ‘whole’ again. His heart started beating as strongly as if he wasn’t clinically dead for a couple of seconds. His flesh regrew. His neurons started to fire with groggy awareness.
Of course, no one else was aware of his ‘slightly alive’ state. To Sabine, Miko, Diana, Sona, and even Violet, they just saw the himbo get decapitated by an honest-to-Emperor Daemon. He was completely dead in their minds. Something that didn’t even have time to set in for most of them. For the ritual’s summoning wasn’t over just yet.
As Sabine clashed with the as-of-yet-unidentified Bloodletter, the portal in the pool of blood widened. Infernal screeches and cackling pierced through the veil of the Immaterium. The next Daemon to come from the Hell of the Warp was a little green guy. This Daemon was already halfway to falling apart and bubbling with disease and decay. And though unidentified by the Humans there like its bigger Khornate brother, this little Nurgling was not alone.
More and more of the little green Nurglings spilled out of the Warp. Those loyal and close to Octus didn’t even have time to grieve. Such was the reality of the grimdarkness of the 41st millennium. Though many of them were bordering on broken by Octus’ “death”, they had to fight for the chance to even process their grief. The only reason they were able to keep from collapsing was the belief that Octus would’ve wanted better for them. They fought for their memories — however short — of the blessed himbo.
A veritable green tide of rot and decay fell upon the girls and Zionites. They desperately held their ground against the disgusting Daemons, using lead and hot las to little effect. Miko and her siblings stood at the vanguard of the small army of Zionites. They used their Abhuman physiologies to release monstrous kicks that split Daemons in half and held the tide at bay.
Miko stood as if the keel of a ship that the waves of Nurglings broke themselves against. Her righteous battle spirit was practically visible, inspiring the rest of the gangers behind her to hold their ground. She hadn’t gotten the chance to get to know Octus very well but she vowed that she would avenge Sister Sabine’s himbo.
Diana and Violet were also visible rallying beacons for the Zionites who now found themselves under Daemonic assault. Mostly for Diana’s Amazonian height and her fame within Zion. The fact that she was keeping her dignified and deadly composure in the face of Daemons helped as well. Despite how much she was freaking out on the inside, Diana stood tall, calmly picking off Nurglings from the horde with well-placed shots of her las pistol.
Violet had thrown all caution to the wind. There was a time for subtlety and secrets and a Daemonic incursion was not it. The air around her glowed with golden light. She levitated a couple of feet off the ground so she was level with her much taller friend as a spectral wind whipped at her hair and clothes. Spears of telekinetic force lashed out to obliterate Daemons left and right. She easily had the greatest offensive impact out of all of the Zionites.
No one had any time to consider the sudden reveal that Violet was a witch amongst them. The gangers were too busy fighting for their lives. They were just thankful for the assistance, no matter where it came from. They crowded back to back as the Nurglings were joined by the Horrors of Tzeentch and threatened to overwhelm their defenses.
The revolting tide of green became spotted with blues and pinks so vibrant that it made eyes bleed. Creatures with mutations beyond the pale screeched for blood and Change. Tentacles and teeth and shifting flesh stripped away at the defenses of the Zionites between explosions of pus and decay. The Zionites fought fiercely, spurred on by the unnaturalness of their opponents and the noble ‘sacrifice’ of a himbo. And though they were resistant, these unholy creatures still fell to overwhelming lead and las like everything else.
A loaned bolter could be heard firing in the shadows of the cathedral’s chamber. It was dismissed by everyone, even the Daemons, as ‘normal’. Sona’s power came in clutch to keep her out of the line of fire but still able to contribute.
The former cult leader was torn up inside and pissed beyond belief. The ritual had been kicked off and it wasn’t even her fault! And to top that, her one ticket to an interesting life and the man she was coming to see as a form of redemption had gone and gotten himself killed! So she struck at the horde of Daemons from the shadows, trying to get her own slice of revenge for Octus’ death. She even shot the Bloodletter, though neither it nor Sabine noticed where the explosive bolts were coming from thanks to her ‘normality’.
But the Daemons were never ending as they spilled out of the portal and into the Materium. Slightly removed from the heat of battle, Sona was able to recognize that. She cursed to herself but decided that something had to be done. There was interesting and then there was… this. This was so far past interesting that Sona wasn’t having fun anymore. Especially not without Octus…
Sona’s bolter fire stopped, and she once again cursed the Daemons, the cultists, the Ruinous Powers, and even herself for making and allowing this all to happen. She couldn’t even enjoy firing the fucking bolter now! Not with everything going on… Not with Octus-… No, don’t think about it.
She blinked tears out of her eyes, chuckling in amused disbelief that she even could cry. She’d only been brought to tears twice in her life and the first time was barely an hour ago when Octus had called her out on her bullshit. Sona had thought she was mentally unable to cry for her entire life. She always thought it was something about her admittedly fucked up psyche — yes, Sona was self-aware enough to recognize that she wasn’t quite right in the head.
But that just brought her back to Octus and her will resolidified. She would close that portal. And she would do it for him. So she could properly grieve that amazingly interesting man who briefly graced her life with light. So everyone he’d touched in his life could grieve…
Sona disappeared even further into the shadows. Her ‘normality’ allowed her to fade and become even more unremarkable than the normal background around her. She then began to move around the cathedral to spots she’d already been, collecting the explosives that she and Octus had placed and relocating them around the portal. So powerful was her ‘normality’ that Sona was even able to slip past the hordes of Daemons without a single infernal eye turning her way.
And through this all, Sabine dueled the Bloodletter with rage and fury that matched the Daemon’s own. A blade of Imperial faith and yandere devotion clashed again and again with a blade of pure malice. Sabine slashed upward at the towering beast, even forcing it back a step. Her chainsword revved, locking with the Bloodletter’s Hellblade.
She popped off a shot with her bolt pistol that vaporized the Daemon’s footing. The unholy creature only laughed, barely stumbling as it reveled in the heat of combat. The noise curdled in Sabine’s ears like everything rotten and wrong with the world. Sabine screamed her rage and pain in reply, uncaring of how the Daemon seemed to feed off her suffering.
Everything in Sabine’s world narrowed down to her opponent. The… thing that had taken her Octus from her. The thing that murdered everything she had come to care for and threatened to do even more. Blood pumped in her veins. Rage clouded her vision. And Sabine slipped further and further into a bloodthirsty fugue.
The Daemon just laughed some more. It goaded Sabine into the embrace of Chaotic influences, waiting for the moment she Fell. This puny Human woman would make a wonderful champion for its god. Maybe it would even be able to claim a Juggernaut mount for itself with her contribution.
Battles raged all around them and within Sabine’s heart. She was fighting for her life and her very soul with the ‘death’ of her light. Her mind rebelled at the idea that Octus could be truly gone. Her faith flickered and roared within her breast, under assault from the corruptive madness of combat. But Sabine remained strong. She’d be damned if she sullied Octus’ memory by falling to Chaos the moment he was gone…
Her chainsword cleaved through the air to meet a screaming Hellblade. Her body moved with every ounce of desperation, pain, faith, and skill that she had. She put everything into every swing of her sword. And yet… she still found herself only barely matching the Daemon.
A strange acceptance rose in her breast. If the Great Enemy was too much for her, so be it. She would break herself upon it and make sure her death meant something. She would provide her comrades and dare she say… friends a chance. The Ruinous Powers would not get a foothold this day. They would not gain a victory.
And when she inevitably fell, she would rejoin her Octus in the Emperor’s arms. Her afterlife would be one of peace and contentment. One where she knew she made a difference even with her dying breath. And maybe… she would finally find the courage to tell Octus how she felt about him…
Sabine squeezed her eyes closed to quench hot tears. Her body moved on autopilot, still evading the Daemon’s attacks and striking back. Her faith, her conviction guided her. As sure as a beacon in the dark, the Emperor’s light stood behind her. Almost as if apologizing for her pain and letting her know everything would be okay.
But Sabine was still only Human. Her fatigue began to mount. Terrific gouges were carved into her power armor by the Daemon’s blade. Her body strained and pushed itself to her limits and beyond. The only thing that remained strong and whole was Sabine’s faith. The Emperor had a plan and if she and Octus had to die for that plan to come to fruition… So be it.
In the end, it all happened so quickly. Something so simple — a misstep and slight stumble — would be Sabine’s downfall. Her follow-up block was just a tad out of position. The Hellblade slid down the flat of her blade, seemingly in slow motion. She could practically see the end result already. In her mind’s eye, her arm flew off at an angle, severed at the elbow, and she was run through by the Daemonic sword. Sabine could’ve sighed. In relief, in acceptance, in disappointment? She didn’t even know anymore.
But before Sabine could taste the sting of Hellfired Daemon metal, the entrance to the cathedral was busted open. A battle-ready Leman Russ Main Battle Tank emerged from the resulting hole. The vehicle bucked and a tank round the size of a small person was spat out. Sabine could’ve sworn she saw the round as it approached, tracking the supersonic projectile as it streaked toward her faster than a bullet.
She didn’t have time to throw herself to the side though. The tank round hurtled past her close enough that she felt the Ceramite of her power armor heat up. It slammed into the Bloodletter, piercing through its infernal hide and detonating. The Daemon disappeared into bloody mist and Sabine was thrown away by the explosion.
Sabine tumbled across the cracked porcelain floor of the cathedral until she eventually came to a stop. She just lay there where she landed in shock. She… She was still alive? Was it over?
She lay frozen as her mind tried to catch up with everything that had happened. Her eyes absently traced the vaulted ceiling high above. A quiet thump sounded from her side and something impossible leaned into her vision.
‘Octus?’ Sabine thought. ‘Oh… I guess I am dead after all… What a shame… At least Octus is here with me… We must be in the Emperor’s light… Which means…’
Sabine’s arm reached up slowly. Octus took her hand in his own and pressed it to his cheek. She felt the tactile sensation of his touch through her power armor. Suddenly, her hand shifted, grabbing the back of his neck and pulling his head down to meet hers.
She put everything she had, everything she was, everything she felt into the kiss. Octus’ mouth opened in shock and Sabine slipped her tongue past his lips. Sabine’s eyes closed lazily, simply enjoying the physical sensations and the fluttering in her chest. Eventually, his body started to respond to her embrace. Sabine was sure his mind hadn’t caught up and his kissing her back was just an automatic reflex. Even in death, Octus was almost painfully dense.
She liked that part of him though. Something she tried her best to convey with her kiss. How much she liked his dense naivety, his stupid gorgeous features, his wholehearted trust and belief in her, and so much more. No… not just liked. She loved those things about him. She loved Octus. Sabine Hallow loved Octus Humblestock and she did everything she could to tell him that with actions instead of words. Words could come later…
It seemed even Octus’ density had a limit. And all it took to get through his thick skull was a woman he admired, idolized, and found attractive kissing him like the world was ending. Oh, and his ‘death’. He didn’t know what was up with that but he was just happy to be alive for this kiss. The kiss was quite literally life-changing and world-shaking.
Reality itself shook around them from the weight of the moment. Two of Humanity’s chosen had finally gotten off their asses and seen what everyone else saw between them. Far away at the center of the Imperium, a golden skeletal god ‘breathed’ an exasperated sigh of “‘Bout fuckin’ time!”
His blessing readily descended upon the pair. They began to glow golden with His light. The light was soft and comforting to every Human there yet corrosive and deadly to the Daemons who still remained in the Materium. Pained profane screeches were heard and ignored by the couple as Daemons evaporated with the golden fire of the Anathema. With the Daemonic threat curbed, the source of the glow and fire did not go unnoticed by those in the cathedral, neither the Zionites nor the recently-arrived Guard regiment.
A certain day-saving Commissar poked her head out of the lead Leman Russ and cheered Sabine on, “Whooooo! Get it, girl!”
Eventually, Sabine and Octus parted but still stayed close enough that their lips brushed when they spoke.
“W-What… uh, what was that about?” Octus asked, his voice thick with emotion and desire.
Sabine shrugged with a content smile on her face, “It was a long time coming now. I realize that this isn’t the ideal moment to make you aware of my feelings… After all, we’re dead, aren’t we? But still… better late than never…”
“Uhm… We ain’t dead, Sabine.”
Sabine started as the physical sensations she shouldn’t be feeling caught up to her mind but otherwise kept up a cool outer facade, “Well, all the better then… I do not regret my actions, no matter how hasty they may have been. And though I may be innocent in matters of love like these… I do not believe you regret them either.”
Sabine’s last sentence was said almost coyly like she was dreading rejection and putting up a strong front as if she wasn’t. Her eyes stared into Octus’ intensely, trying to divine his true feelings for her. Octus found himself so hypnotized by the intensity and her beauty that he forgot to respond.
“No!…” Octus denied hastily. “Err, I mean… No, I don’t regret kissing ya either.”
Sabine’s smile could have brought the dead back to life — ironic considering what she and Octus had just gone through — but her verbal reply was understated, simple, and sincere, “How fortuitous. Then I shall entrust my heart to you. Please take care of me, Octus Humblestock.”
