Dudruk’s War

My body aches, my mind wrenches, my body is spewing blood from

every corner, but somehow I feel more alive and well than I ever have. I
leapt from my perch, a burning heap of metal and oil, and drove my choppa
deep into something soft. Blood sprayed like a mist as the hulking marine
fell to the bloodstained ground, his body separated down his chest. He
wasn’t dead yet, but he wasn’t getting back up. I quickly drew my attention
to a small, floating skull. It simply lay in suspension, its dark metallic gaze
searching me up and down. As the sound of war whizzed and exploded
around me, one thing stood out: a clicking sound. “Shit…” I immediately
dove for the cover of the gravel and debris below, but this didn’t save me, or
my back, from the blast that came. My body went numb, save my arms,
which were safely under my body, and my ears emanated a loud, shrill noise
throughout my skull, wrenching at it as if to attempt to escape its
imprisonment. I jolted back up, a burst of energy overtaking me, and drove
my choppa up just in time to meet the fleshy jaw of a scout. His neck
snapped, his gun shattered, and his body crumpled as the force overtook
him. This is heaven; nothing else mattered now, not my wounds, nor the
orks around me, or even our warboss, this is war. I screamed out hoarsely,
but with vigor, “WAAGHH!!” and was treated by countless more screams,
soon becoming a chant, clinging to our hearts and pushing us forward,
bloodthirsty and energized. Body after body fell to the ground, decorating
the battlefield in their entrails. Despite this, the morale of the orks only got
stronger, so that even the fearless space marines started to doubt their
resolve. This was our battle; this was my battle.
 The battlefield was near silent now, the occasional bout breaking the
monotony of victory. As the last marine fell, our Warboss, Gargauntz,
bellowed a victory cry. We came shortly after, making the voices of
hundreds of boyz heard for miles. My feeling of victory was short-lived
though, as something crashed into my back. Tinz, one of the nobs of our
warband, was frenzied, his bloodlust unquenched by the war. I recoiled in
time to dodge his second blow, but I was now feeling light and weak. He
quickly clambered up from his miss and charged forward at me. With a near
impossible combination of reflex and strength, I slid around him and dug my
choppa deep into his skull. His bloodlust died as quickly as he did, and he
slumped to the ground, his corpse bathing in the blood of himself and the
casualties of war alike. I came to a realization of what had just occurred,
and quickly shifted glances with the surrounding orks, looking for
retaliation, but only found admiration. Gargauntz broke into laughter, with
the rest of the nobz soon joining in, finding Tinz’s unfortunate demise
entertaining. “Hahaha, Tinz gotz wut he desurved! One bolt short’a bein’
one of ‘dem mad boyz, he was. Now, c’mon ladz! Weze gonna do sum
lootin’ or are weze gonna let ‘dem lootas do it for us?” Gargauntz saw what
he was looking for, and quickly bent to grab it. “Dudruk, dat’s yur name
right? Git over ‘ere,” I edged slowly toward where he was standing, just as
he lifted himself up. He had Tinz’s personal clan insignia, and was
adjusting a prod stick to it, “We needz a burna boy over ‘ere. NOW!” As
quickly as it took Gargauntz to speak, a tall ork with a metal mask and a
skorcha aproached. Garguantz spoke a few words to the boy, and the
skorcha nozzle erupted into a blue flame. The makeshift brander lit up at the
end, and before my legs could sweep me away, he stuck the metal brander
onto my chest. Heat seered through my body as skin burnt onto steel, and
my body went from under me, dropping me to my knees.