Short story - Red Snow

This is entirely different from how you might have expected me to start the year. Recently I’ve been diving into the lore and stories behind the Warhammer universe. The amount of material is overwhelming, but it has been interesting to work through what’s going on.

There’s also a competition coming for new writers for their Black Library, so I wanted to practice something.

So - with a BIG warning for violence - here’s my first proper attempt.

There will be more of these over the coming weeks and months, so if you like it please subscribe, and if you don’t, don’t worry I’ll be still doing the silly poems.

Red Snow - A Warhammer 40k Story

That earthquake had a lot to answer for.

First Sergeant Calius pulled his hands into his armpits to try and regain some feeling in his fingertips. This was cold, dangerous work and one of his scouts had already succumbed to the freeze. Two more had refused to move any further, instead preferring to sit in their tent and wait until the squad returned from their mission.

Calius did not intend to return for them. The men and women under his command were not aware of his plans, but he’d worked the options through. The detour on the road back would take time and place the rest of the squad in danger. More would likely die, and that was an unacceptable risk. The two cowards would be left to survive or die on their own.

He thought back to his training. The cowards were lucky. His old commanding officer would have shot them immediately for such insubordination. But this was a new command and Calius knew the squad had been through a lot. Discipline was important, but to order execution would be to invite a mutiny.

There would be time for discipline.

There was always time for discipline.

Standing still was doing no good. He needed to move. The wind whipped around him, throwing ice and snow in tiny tornadoes around them all. Calius looked over at the other men working for him. Some were locals like him, others were recent arrivals. Their body language was the same. Hunched over, they watched the drill, lasguns and autopistols hung around their neck or strapped to their thighs.

Calius had sympathy for them. He was told that compared to others in the Imperium, Hevol-8 was a cold, unforgiving planet. It didn’t bother him. It was his home, and he and his family would serve the Emperor on it until they were no longer able.

The drill continued to cut down into the thick ice.

Calius tapped his engineer, a small sapper called Reeta Kytax, on the shoulder. She stayed staring at the screen that showed the drill’s progress. He hailed her on vox instead.

“How much longer?” he asked.

“Not long,” she replied. “We’re not far from the anomaly now.”

“Can you do it any quicker?”

“Not without breaking the drill head.”

“Do we not have a spare?”

“We barely had the manpower to cart this one here. Especially after Yannis and Moab abandoned us.”

He liked the spit in her voice as she said their names. Kytax wouldn’t have any problem with his upcoming order to abandon the cowards. He wondered what kind of commanding officer she would make.

He looked at the screen and watched the little blue dot moving slowly toward the red.

The anomaly. Ever since Hevol was settled, administrators and librarians and visiting psykers had claimed that the planet had been inhabited before. Yet there had been no proof, no evidence other than a vague feeling that something else was present. Scans of the planet had revealed no construction or remains. Until recently, Calius was convinced it was all rumours, something stirred up by the damned and the unholy in the tunnels to convince mine workers to part with good coin in return for platitudes and trinkets.

Recently though, there had been a chain of events that many believed linked. And the earthquake in the Northern Icefield had shifted something, and all of a sudden a metal that shouldn’t have been there was detected. The worst storm in records moved in across the entire Northern hemisphere of Hevol, limiting movement and pinning most of the population in their homes or their mines. Finally, there were rumours of shapes out on the ice, children being snatched from their homes and noises in the middle of the night.

Calius was not one of those listening to ghost stories in the bars. This wasn’t the first time the bad weather on his icy home had set people panicking. Hevol was a harsh, unforgiving planet, and life on it could be boring. The population needed something to cling to, something to entertain them and distract them.

Finally, the governor had enough of the rumours about the aliens in the Icefield. He’d called Calius into his quarters, given him a promotion and a squad and told him to go out there and investigate. Two days later, they’d started the trek.

“We’re there,” Kytax said.

The others huddled around the vid-screen. The image was difficult to make out. It flickered and faded and eventually settled on a large, dark shape.

“A rock,” Calius said.

“I’m running analysis,” Kytax muttered.

He stepped away from the screen and rolled his head around on his shoulders, feeling the fabric stretch against his neck. His muscles ached in the cold, but it was an ache he was used to. This was all a massive waste of time. One dead soldier, two more likely dead by now, all to discover a rock. He had rocks in his house - his son insisted on bringing them home when he was out playing.

He faced the raging storm and closed his eyes. His job now was to get the rest of his squad back to the nearest shelter alive. After that, a warm shower and a -

Out in the Icefield, something moved. A white shape, but solid, different to the rest of the landscape. And it was getting closer.

“Movement,” he said. His voice was whipped away from him by the wind. Even he barely heard it. He flicked on his vox.

“Movement,” he repeated. “On the ice.”

He sensed his squad shaking the snow and ice from their weapons. He dropped to one knee and brought his las rifle up to his chest. His sights were basic, and the wind kept knocking the gun around. Shooting straight was going to be impossible. He needed numbers.

“On my position,” he said.

“Can’t see a thing.” A shuffling as a gruff trooper moved into position to his left, peering into the snow. Calius had served with Nirk Fareen before. He was a strong, confident trooper, but that came with an arrogance that would one day get him killed. Maybe not in a war, or hand-to-hand with a Xenos, but perhaps in a bar fight, or a knife in the back from a jealous lover.

“It’s out there, Fareen,” Calius said. “Hold position.”

The vox crackled. “It’s not just a rock,” said Kytax.

“We have incoming, Kytax,” Calius said, “get in formation.”

There was no response from his tech support. Calius cursed under his breath. Kytax wasn’t technically part of the Imperial Army, but she could hold a pistol and she could shoot. If there was something out there with them, he wanted as many guns as possible to shoot at it. No ghost story ever started with the monster dying quickly.

The shape came into focus as it shuffled closer. Three arms, four legs, a dipping, shuffling form.

Then the vox crackled into life.

“This is trooper Yannis, requesting immediate support. We are under attack from an unknown assailant. We require urgent…”

The voice trailed off.

Calius pushed through the gale toward the shape. The closer he got, the more human it looked. Two humans, in fact. One missing an arm, blood dripping from a ragged dismemberment starting just below the shoulder. The other was covered in blood, one eye burnt out and his face scorched from fire.

“Sergeant?” Yannis yelled through the snow. “Is that you? There’s something in the snow. Moab is hurt bad.”

Calius raced toward the men and lifted Moab from Yannis’ shoulders.

“I’ll take Moab. You fall in, trooper.” He wanted the man within ranks, behind the line. He looked a the empty, vacant face of the man he was carrying. Moab was dead and had been for some time. Ice was forming in his nostrils and around the exposed skin of his face.

Yannis staggered forward, hand over his bad eye. As he half-carried, half-dragged the dead man back, Calius watched as the soldier made it to the others. Two of the squad left the firing line to open an aid kit. Calius clicked on the radio.

“All available guns pointing out, soldiers. Yannis, get patched up and get back on the circle. If there’s something out there, we need to be ready for it. Kytax, radio us in for an emergency evac.”

“Nothing will pick us up here, Sergeant,” Kytax said.

“Do as you’re ordered. Report hostile contact, report that we’re under attack. Request evac.”

Hell of a first mission.

Calius reached the perimeter and threw Moab down. The body sunk into the snow face-down. Blood stained the edge of the impression. Calius looked for Yannis, and found him by the medkit, wrapping his eye with gauze.

“What happened, soldier?”

Yannis just shook his head. Calius tore the gauze from his eye. The guardsman screamed.

“Tell me what happened, soldier.”

Yannis whimpered and held his hand over his eye to try and protect his eyes from the howling wind. But he looked up at his superior officer.

“It was quick.”

“Not human?”

“Too quick to be human.”

“Any idea what kind?”

“Nothing native.” The native animals on Hevol were primitive, although usually well-behaved. Occasionally hunger or desperation would send them into conflict with the human settlers, although few of them got past the settlement’s perimeter defences. Out here, though, in the cold wastelands, part of Calius had been hoping that one had taken their chance for a quick meal.

He put his hands on either side of Yannis’ head and forced the other man to maintain eye contact. “You’re sure?”

“I’m sure.”

Calius cursed. He switched to his vox.

“Kytax, anything from base?”

“They’ve sent a transport to the extraction point.”

“Please tell me they’ve designated a new one.” The current extraction point was on the edge of the ice-field, two full days’ walk away.

“No.”

“CONTACT!”

The shout came from behind him. Calius twirled around, gun rising to his shoulder in an automatic movement. Before he completed the movement, he heard gunfire and saw a muzzle flash.

On the other side of the perimeter to him, the opposite side to where Yannis and Moab had walked from the snow, two of his squad were shooting at something Calius couldn’t make out. He ran across the secure area, vaulting over the equipment that Kytax had been using to investigate the object in the ice, and sliding to a stop on his knees.

The troopers had stopped shooting.

“Trooper Van Doon, report,” Calius ordered.

“Something out there,” the trooper was young, barely out of basic training. She was also terrified, but determined. He could see her eyes beneath her goggles sweeping back and forth across the horizon. She was ready for another go, should the opportunity present itself. Her autogun smoked from the muzzle and steamed where snow was landing on it.

“I need more than that, Van Doon,” Caluis said.

“I couldn’t make out anything. It was a blur.”

“Keep your head down, keep a lookout. We need to make sure…”

“CONTACT!”

The shout came from the other side of the perimeter. There was no shooting this time. Fareen was the guardsman who’d shouted. He knew better than to waste ammo on an ethereal target. Calius ran back, but halfway to the soldier he realised that not only had he looked a little foolish running back and forth, he’d also made it obvious to anyone watching that he was the officer in charge.

He threw himself to the ground. Snow billowed up around him.

The las blast cut through the air above him, right where his centre mass would have been if he hadn’t taken evasive action. At that moment, knowing that he was facing something intelligent, that he took stock of the situation.

Two days walk to safety.

A clever, determined foe.

An exposed defensive position.

He clicked on his vox.

“Men, withdraw slowly to my position.”

Soon they were surrounding him in a tight circle. The guns wobbled, the teeth chattered, although whether that was the cold of the adrenaline he wasn’t sure.

“We’re sitting ducks out here,” Caluis said.

“So we head for the transport?” Van Doon asked.

“And if that thing decides to follow us? We don’t stand a chance,” Fareen said.

“Fareen’s right,” Calius said. “We need to make a stand.”

“We don’t have many rations,” Kytax said.

“We have enough.” A present from the dead soldiers, he didn’t need to say.

“And what if it decides to wait us out?”

The wind gusted once more, swirling snow and ice. Each of the guardsmen shivered involuntarily. Calius knew they were worried about spending more time on the Icefield than needed.

“Whatever it is,” he said, “it’s hunting us for a reason. That means it wants something from us.”

“It might just want us dead,” Van Doon said.

“That’s still a want.” He wiped the snow from his goggles. “I want us dug in within ten minutes. A deep cavity around us, and trenches in the snow. If nothing else, it’ll provide shelter.”

The squad said nothing for thirty long seconds.

Then Fareen shouted. “You heard the sergeant. For the Emperor! Digging duty, now.”

They all broke their mini huddle in one go and started to dig. Calius joined in too, hoping that the grouping and the new covering of snow would break the hunter’s line of sight.

Soon they had three rudimentary trenches dug in a tight triangle shape, each side no longer than four men. In an ideal world, they’d have found some kind of structure to guard one of their flanks, but the Icefield afforded no such luxury.

Calius was happy to see that his comment about the shelter they would provide wasn’t misplaced. If he walked along the trench and ducked down, the cold of the wind was that little bit more bearable. He hunched over as he walked, checking on the resolve of the squad. They were cold, and hungry, but ready to fight whatever came at them.

They wanted to go home. Their leader could see it in their eyes. This was not what being an Imperial Guard on Hevol was supposed to be like. Bar fights, trader disputes, the occasional worker’s riot. Those were the duties they were expecting.

The wind died away for a moment.

The snow stopped.

The clouds cleared.

And the attack began.

Calius watched as lasfire struck one of the flanks. He heard a scream as one of the men fell victim, then a sickly noise of a blade on flesh. He spun on the spot and saw, standing in the centre of the triangle, the bringer of doom.

Thin and tall, with jet black armour now stained with the blood of one of his squad, the Drukhari towered over them all. It had no helmet and Calius could see the Xenos white, squalid skin and narrow, sneering grin. Its face was long and stretched more than a human’s, but it was otherwise humanoid.

It held a long, orange sword that glowed against the white of the snow. A black liquid dripped from the end of the blade.

The alien looked around it, surveying the squad, then lowered the weapon.

“We do not need to fight,” it said. “I need not take your lives.”

No one moved.

Calius, biting back his fear, stood.

“What do you want, Aeldari?” he asked.

It turned its gaze to him.

“I am a Drukhari,” it said, spitting the words, “and you will address me as such.”

“You are on an Imperial World. Your presence here is an act of war.”

The creature hissed.

“I go where I please, human.”

Calius raised his weapon. The Xenos laughed.

“You mean to kill me? Without hearing my offer first?”

Calius said nothing.

“I could kill all of you here in a moment. I am a trained, ancient warrior, skilled in dealing death in ways that you humans cannot even comprehend.”

None of the associated Imperial guards moved. Most were sighting the Drukhari down their weapons. The only exception was Yannis, who Calius could see starting to move toward the edge of the triangle. The man meant to run. Calius felt an anger stir within him toward the coward.

“But - I need help retrieving my artefact. It is buried deep within the ice, and while I could reach it myself, I would prefer to enlist your help.”

“And what’s the offer?” Calius asked.

“In exchange, I will not kill you. And, should anyone wish to accompany me on my next voyage, they may. I am in need of a new crew.”

With a shout, Yannis broke from the triangle. Calius kept his eye on the alien.

“Kytax, bring him down,” he said.

“What?”

“Someone shoot the deserter,” Calius said. “That’s an order.”

There was no movement from within the triangle.

The Drukhari smiled. “It seems your soldiers do not respect you, leader.”

“They respect me fine,” Calius said. “Fareen!”

“I’m not taking my eyes off the monster,” Fareen said.

Calius screamed. “Fine.”

He turned, took aim with his lasrifle, and hit Yannis square in the back. He no longer feared a mutiny caused by cruelty. His old commander would be proud of his strength, of how he now dealt with men like Yannis.

The high-powered round burned through the man’s chest, and as the momentum took him forward, it created a small hole through which Calius could see through. Then Yannis fell to the ground face first. Pink snow puffed around him, marking the spot where he fell.

“The Emperor does not forgive cowardice,” Calius yelled. “He does not allow us to choose when serving him.” He spun around to face the Drukhari. “You would do well to remember that, Xenos.”

With a flick of its wrist, the alien flexed the sword in its hand. Another drip of poison ran from the blade and turned the snow green.

“You’re going to get us killed,” Fareen shouted.

Calius shook his head. “I would rather take my chances against a foe in combat than live in servitude.”

“I do not offer servitude,” it said. “I offer partnership.”

“I…”

Calius felt rough hands on his back. His rifle was forced from his grip and he was pulled back into a seated position. Looking up, he saw Fareen and Kytax standing over him. Calius heard the noise of tape and felt pressure on his hands as he was restrained. Throughout it all, he was silent. The Drukhari watched the scene silently.

Fareen spoke to the creature.

“We accept your terms,” he said. He extended his hand to confirm the deal. “But it is each man’s choice whether he goes with you or not. No more prisoners.”

The alien grinned a horrible, lopsided grin at Calius.

“No more prisoners,” it agreed.

And sliced the sword through Fareen’s wrist.

The trooper screamed as the poisoned blade easily severed his hand. Blood sprayed from the wound, covering Calius and the other Guardsmen. They all watched in horror as Fareen’s skin turned a dark green, then black as the poison took effect. Fareen’s scream only last a few seconds, but the agony and pain behind it stuck in the minds of the soldiers.

For the little time they had left to live.

Calius was helpless as he watched the Xenos dance around the triangle of makeshift trenches. Snow was turned green from poison and red from blood as a bloody rift was torn through his squad.

Kytax died quickly and cleanly as the blade severed her head from her shoulders in one swift movement. She did not even have time to pull the trigger on her autopistol before the alien ended her life.

Others were not so lucky. Firing wildly, Van Doon hit one of the other troopers in the leg with a las round. She stopped in horror at the friendly fire, only to feel a nip of a blade on her neck. The poison shuddered through her bloodstream, reaching her eyes and ears and dripping from them to the snow below her. She died in pain, screaming for help that would never come.

The rest of the squad was taken apart with ease. Limbs were severed and launched into the air with the force of the attack. Rogue gunfire continued, but they were shooting at something they couldn’t hit. The Drukhari was too fast, too strong, and they were too close. Maybe from a distance some of the shots would have landed, but not in such close confines.

Calius watched it all, taking it all in. He was surprised to not feel any fear. Instead, a feeling of hatred grew within him. Whenever he glimpsed the form of the Drukhari moving between his squad, massacring them, there was only a desire for vengeance.

He whispered a prayer to the Emperor that he might be given a chance.

Soon bodies lay around the area, litter to be swallowed by the Icefield. In the centre, splattered with blood and gore, Calius was the only survivor.

The alien stood over him.

“Do you wish to survive?” it asked.

“I wish you dead.”

“There is a darkness within you, leader.”

“Then fight me and find out.”

The Drukhari crouched down. It placed the poisoned blade on its back and instead took out a small dagger. It was more delicate than the larger weapon. With another of the horrible grins, it leant forward and carved something into Calius’ cheek.

“This marks you, human, as someone that interests me.”

It turned around and pressed something hidden in the armour. With a hiss and a gush of steam, something rose from the ice. It settled, hovering above the bodies of Calius’ squad.

“Just kill me,” Calius said.

“Oh no,” the alien muttered. “Then how would you get your revenge?”

“You mean to leave me here?”

It pointed to the sky. “Help is coming, human. You will be here a day at most. Even your pathetic race should be able to survive a day on the ice. When you get free, come and find me.”

“I will kill you.”

“My name is Taldios Rían,” it said, ignoring the threat. “I look forward to meeting you again.”

With that, the Drukhari walked away. Calius moved his head so he could follow the shape against the white of the snow until it faded to nothing. He seethed. What game was this monster playing? Did he mean to fight Calius, kill him, or just tease him with the promise of retribution?

Calius looked at the vacant eyes of Kytax.

“I will avenge you,” he promised her.

The sky clouded over and the snow began to fall again.

Calius closed his eyes and prayed.

Well, there you go - let me know what you think, and do share with anyone who might be interested in reading more!