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I will update the Daemon Blade tomorrow or the day after tomorrow. That being said, I feel like writing this right now. Also, klik and shyth are swear words on the planet Varin is from.

Varin's eyes opened. He felt the cold, blood drenched ceramite below him. The soldier groaned and rolled onto his back. His arm was wrapped in bloodstained bandages. It felt like someone was hitting it was a sledge hammer over and over. Varin groaned again. His shirt was gone. Part of his chest was wrapped in bloodstained bandages. His chest stung and was twitching strangely. Varin forced himself to bend upright. "Where am I?" he asked. There was no answer. Suddenly Varin screamed and leapt to his feet, grabbing the wall for support. He was surrounded by corpses. The bodies had been badly mauled and partially eaten. Portions of the wall had been scorched by gunfire. Varin vomited and collapsed, falling onto the remains of Officer Cyril. Cyril's intestines were hanging out from his slit belly amidst a puddle of gore.

The soldier vomited again and forced himself to crawl off the corpse. As soon as he was off of Cyril he fell limp on the floor and whimpered. For sometime Varin lay there, stained with vomit and gore. After several minutes he finally calmed down and stood up, surveying the massacre. There were at least ten corpses here, maybe eleven or twelve. Most of them were ripped apart with chunks of them missing and massive claw marks. Varin grabbed a flamer lying on the floor and ran away from the corpses as fast as he could. He had no clear direction, instead simply running anywhere away from the massacre. Varin went down two hallways, up three flights of stairs, down one hallway, through a kitchen and finally up one more flight of stairs until he collapsed in some office room, sitting down in front of a steel desk decorated with Imperial Icons.

He heard a noise. Without hesitation Varin slammed the door and readied his flamer. The noise grew louder; foot steps clanging on metal. Varin rubbed some of the sweat off his forehead and checked the flamer's ammo, just to make sure. It was half full. The foot steps were louder now. Varin realized how shaky he was; it was a good thing he had a flamer because with any other weapon he wouldn't be able to aim. His bandages were soaked with sweat. The footsteps were right outside of the door. They stopped. Varin rubbed the sweat off of his forehead again. His bandages were itching furiously. He couldn't stop shaking. He could still smell the gore and vomit. That was when the doorknob began to turn.

It was turning slowly and completely silently. "STOP!" yelled Varin. "STOP!" he screamed again. "I have a flamer you klik faced Wulfren shyth Daemon!"

"Wait!" said a deep voice. "I'm not a Daemon! Don't shoot!"

The door popped open, revealing a tall man with a rugged beard and a small nose. "Its okay," he said, dropping a lasgun and putting his hands up. "I'm not a Daemon."

Varin put his flamer down. "Thank the Emperor," he said, exhaling and sitting down. "You okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine. What about you? You don't look so good," answered the Guardsmen. "I'm Sark."

"I'm Varin. Do you know what happened here?" he asked.

Sark sat down at a chair and replied, "I was hoping you'd know. I was in the hanger cleaning. An alarm went off so I ran up only to find everyone dead. I heard a fight in the cockpit and went over there, but by the time I reached it everyone was dead as well and something had turned off the alarm. I didn't know how to turn the alarm back on or what to do, so I just went hunting for it. And I found you. Also, have you seen a tall, bald woman in a medical uniform?"

"No. In fact, I don't remember anything at all from the last few hours. It, whatever did this, must've knocked me unconscious," said Varin. "I woke up in a pile of corpses with these bandages on and I have no idea what happened. I think I got the injuries before, because why else would they be bandaged up? Life in the PDF."

"Yeah. What are we going to do?"

"We should search for whatever did this and other survivors. After its dead we'll think of what to do next," answered Varin.

"Let's go," Sark said, picking up his lasgun.

There were many more hallways and rooms with corpses. Each one with corpses and even some without indicated a struggle. Overheated plasma guns, empty clips and broken lasguns were scattered across the floor alongside the bodies. Every corpse was unique; some had torn faces and missing eyes while others had broken limbs and torn organs. One notable corpse had his severed forearm shoved down his throat. Varin shivered and tried to ignore it. This ship was small considering that it was meant for warp travel and a had a crew of only one hundred and six men and woman. It looked like they had all been slaughtered. Throughout the search, Varin's injuries hurt more and more. He was afraid to look under the bandages and see exposed bones or pulsating organs.

The two stopped outside of a medical room, peering inside. The lights were flickering, making the room even more ominous than the majority of the ships. In the entrance was Doctor Cuvier. His back was broken and mangled spine exposed. Suddenly Sark ran inside the room and started going through all the corpses. "What is it?" asked Varin, knowing full well he was just wasting time.

"Priss!" he yelled, throwing one corpse aside and continuing to dig through them. "My girlfriend! She was a Surgeon! Priss!"

"That's who you were talking about. Throne," said Varin, putting his head down.

Sark threw one more corpse aside and saw her. She was tall and thin, with a slightly crooked nose and a buzzcut. In her hand was a lasgun. Her throat had been torn out. "Priss," he whimpered. "I'll leave you alone," Varin said, stepping out of the room and into a dank hallway.

After five minutes, Sark emerged. "We're going to find that thing," stammered the soldier, tightening the grip on his lasgun. "And we're going to kill it."

The search continued for about an hour. There were always more bodies to be found, but the thing was missed. It had evidently gone into hiding following its rampage. "What do you think did this?" asked Varin, as he opened a closet door before moving on. "Its obviously not human."

"Probably a warp creature," snarled Sark, kicking a corpse aside. "They sometimes mess with stuff during warp travel. But I never heard of something this bad. Usually can't have too much influence in this world."

"Can we even kill it? All of those soldiers couldn't," pointed out Varin. "And what if it left? We've been searching for what feels like hours and its not anywhere."

"Shut the klik up," hissed the enraged Soldier. "I'm going to track that thing down and I'm going to kill it. I don't care if I have to go in the warp."

Suddenly Varin was wracked by unimaginable pain. He screamed and sobbed, falling to his knees and clutching his wounds. The bandage tore open on his hand, revealing a massive, bony, seven digit-ed claw covered in scales. Bandages on his chest tore open as well and a cluster of spikes ripped free from his flesh. Screaming further, his head began to warp and a bull like horn formed on the side of his head. A spike jutted from his knee and ripped through his pants. His toes twisted into hideous claws. "You're the kliking Daemon!" exclaimed Sark, firing into Varin's chest. The PDF Soldier tumbled over backwards and clutched the burnt wound. "No, wait!" he stammered. His teeth were forming into fangs. "Wait!"

His normal arm lost shape and turned into a strange mass of extended flesh before forming into a muscular tentacle. "You're the kliking Daemon!" Sark shouted again, shooting Varin once more in the chest. "Wait!" cried out Varin. "Please! Don't shoot!" His eyes began to glow brightly and Varin casually stood up. The expression of terror was gone from his face. "I took much pleasure from the soul of Priss," he purred, taking a step forward. "Her agony fed me for quite sometime." Sark fired again, burning a hole in the Daemon's neck. It didn't seem to care. "Yet I hope yours will feed me even further."

The Daemon was upon him at once. Within seconds Sark had been disarmed and brought to his knees, his mangled form wracked with pain. Each pathetic attempt to fight back ended in further injuries. He attempted to crawl away, to the Daemon's amusement, and was finally slain. Afterwards the Daemon went to the medical center and cleaned and bandaged the mutations, knowing that any rescuers couldn't seem them. Afterall, this was a brand new plaything and he didn't want to lose it too quickly. Some mutations, such as his jutting horn, were too large to hide. Thus it calmly sawed them away and bandaged the gory stumps.

Varin's eyes opened. He was wracked with pain and too weak to move. The soldier moaned and tried to remember what happened. His mind went blank, save a blurry mental picture of dozens of PDF Soldiers being slaughtered by some unseen entity. "Where am I?" he asked as he pulled himself off the floor. He was surrounded by corpses.

So yeah. Just a short horror story about bad things happening when you go through the Warp. C&C is appreciated.

Love it. I always like a good Horror story.