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The engine began to roar as the revs built, gathering speed across the ash wastes. The bike pitched violently to the left as a wheel caught a rock exposed from the plains. Golgath quickly threw his weight over the right side of his machine and wrenched back on the throttle. The front wheel bucked up briefly and Golgotha let out a massive roar, picked up by his vox and broadcast to his brothers in his squad. As his helmet picked up the scurrying shapes of the enemy he ripped it off. He wanted to feel every drop of blood wet his skin.
The gap between the bikers and the deep line of guardsmen closed. Golgath pulled his chain-axe from its mounting on the plating of the bike and held it high letting it pick up speed and begin to whine. The axe bucked backwards in his hand as it revved begging him to let it taste blood and bone between its teeth. Let it serve Khorne it begged. Golgoth had no choice but to agree.
The wedge of bikes picked up speed Golgath gunning his bike to the front, with the last meters closing las-fire started to tickle his armour. He let out a great shriek of pleasure and bellowed at the puny guardsmen as they met. The first seconds of battle filled him with a shuddering pleasure as his bike crushed bones under its massive weight. He swung his axe in a wild arc feeling it bite through flesh and armour. With this gap cleared he rammed is armoured fist against the glowing button on the tank of his bike and dismounted. The bike revved frantically as Golgath pushed his way into the swirl of bodies ripping and tearing with his hands and axe. A wound screamed between his massive armour plates as a officer of the guard attempted to push his blade into the hulking marine. Golgath’s hand wrapped around the mans throat and swung round holding the writhing body between himself and the over revving bike. As the bike reached a crescendo the bike dropped a small charge into the flailing pistons. This pushed out causing the bike to shred itself in a ball of flame filling the bodies of all nearby with cursed shards of metal.
Guardsmen shrieked and stumbled grabbing bleeding wounds, as the hulking marines strode amongst them tearing them apart. Golgath wrenched the head off the demolished body of the officer and rammed it onto the spikes emerging from his armour. He licked his lips, savouring the taste of sweet blood. He threw his head back and roared his allegiance to Khorne. Hearing the echoes of his cry from his squad who were pushing deeper into the mass of panicking guardsmen. They rejoiced in every wound, both on themselves and on their enemies. All blood pleases the Blood God. Golgath watched with ecstasy as his brother Loki fell under a mass of las-fire. Loki’s helm still grinned manically as his body was shredded. Golgath strode forwards planting his massive boot into the stomach of the lone guardsman standing over the body of the destroyed marine. A rib cracked and the air blew out of its body. Golgath dropped to one knee pulling the head of the now screaming warrior back.
“Serve the Blood God, serve Khorne!” the marine commanded as las-fire pinged off his huge shoulder plates. The small man screamed in defiance praising his false corpse emperor to the last. Normally Golgath would have kept him to play with for hours but this was no time for acquiring a new toy. He slowly drew a long flickering knife from his belt, its surface danced as the thirsting soul contained within tried to escape to feed endlessly. Golgath bent low over the man and slid the knife down into his chest. The man shuddered and screamed as Golgath laughed.
“We all serve Khorne, your blood is his wine!”
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