1. #1
    SeggyGetsHyphy
    Guest

    Kaustic Rohypnol

    A mist of blood speckled an ornate mask as injectors receded into internally grafted shafts. No other blood was spilt from the holes at the base of his jaw and neck. The peasant barely had time to process the screams of his wife and daughters being eaten alive. The look of fear in his eyes washed over red. As blood drained from his eyes and ears, he began to retch. The bile that had filled his empty stomach spattered against his attacker

  2. #2
    That's great! Excellent capture of a Kaustic mind-set. LOL

  3. #3
    SeggyGetsHyphy
    Guest
    ~Continuation: This story is based on true events 275pt

    Rohypnol knew the fires would draw attention,but there was not much to be done about them. Water was precious. Besides, if the house and barn burned long enough they would provide a fine cooking pit for the meals they would attract. As the sun began to set six shadows rose over the hill and where cast into the valley of the massacred farm.

    The Kaustic was not new to these raids. He understood they would not send more than a squad to defend a single farm. He also knew they would approach from the hill. The Forsaken loved their ranged weaponry, and they would not pass up taking advantage of that hill. Rohypnol and his Buzzblades would simply keep their heads down until the enemy was closer.

    The Coils began to descend the hill. A slow steady pace that was pompous in it's essence. The Skarrd were well hidden, yet at the bottom of the hill one Coil raised his hand in a fist to halt their march. He noticed the body of the farmer's child. The Skarrd would never pass up a free meal. The leader of the Coil squad understood this was an ambush. "Men, ready your launchers. The enemy is upon us." The Coils loaded Death Discs into their weapons and aimed for locations the enemy may have taken cover. "Come forth, you cannibalistic swine. Let us send up your souls so that God may deal with them." Rohypnol heard this, and was infuriated. Not by the cannibal part. That was true. Their 'god', on the other hand, was as make-believe as the 'space ships' the children are told of before bed. It was time for these religious salesmen to eat their words.

    Rohypnol had nine Buzzblade warriors under his immediate command. He knew there was probably half a brain between all of them, so he decided the best course of action was to have them think as little as possible. "Kill the Forsaken!" Rohypnol's scream was enough to produce the reaction he was looking for. The Buzzblades lept forth from their hiding places and rushed toward the Coil's position.

    The Coil Launchers released their discs with a loud thud that gave the impression of very shoddy craftsmanship. Four of the discs flew nearly strait up into the air proving how unreliable these weapons where. One Buzzblade saw the discs approaching and managed to raise her shield in time. The Disc embedded itself into her shield and remained there as she lowered her defense and continued her sprint. Another Buzzblade was not so lucky. The Death Disc tore through his clavicle between his neck and shoulder. His left arm dipped down, as if the skin peeled from a banana, exposing severed ribs and the upper part of a lung.

    The death of their fellow Buzzblade did not even phase the squad as a whole. They rushed in to meet the Coils face to face. Rohypnol sprinted strait up the center. He wanted their leader. He raised his arm above his head and wondered what it felt like to have acid burn your brains to mush. Rohypnol's punch came as almost a complete surprise to the Coil leader. His visor was cracked and he was beginning to forget what he was fighting for. The Coil couldn't even remember his own name. His brain ran down out of his ears and Rohypnol reached out and grabbed some of the mush. His hand was burned by the acid that remained, but he still tasted. The taste of the Coil's brain was soon overpowered by the taste of blood from the holes he had burned in his own tongue.

    The eight Buzzblades caught the other five Coils off guard as well. One Coil managed to avoid getting hit at all, but the soldier beside him caught a spiked bat, splitting his skull. Two Coils managed to get their Morning Sticks out in time to block attacks. The final Coil raised her arm in defense, but the Buzzblade she faced severed her limb and buried his machete into her thigh.

    The Coils where now at half their strength and they had lost their leader. Three men staring down nine crazed maniacs was enough to put the fear of 'god' into anyone. "Run!" The three remaining Coils began to sprint up the side of the hill they had just descended from. The Eight Buzzblades pursued the remaining Coils and managed to take one more before they disappeared over the horizon.

    The Kaustic laughed maniacally. He never expected to get away with such light casualties. As his eight men returned dragging their latest victim, Rohypnol raised his arm to stop them. The Kaustic grabbed the Buzzblade that was dragging the dead Coil. Rohypnol's laugh grew. "There is no way this many of you should have survived!" The Buzzblade began to laugh half-heartedly as well, but was cut short by two needles being jammed into his vocal chords. The Buzzblade vomited blood onto the face and chest of his master. Rohypnol dropped the dead Buzzblade, and turned to look at the rest. "Seven is the number I have chosen to feast on tonight. We were one short, and I felt we wouldn't be satisfied with just eating six." The Buzzblades looked back and forth at one another. The Kaustic's logic did make sense to them.

    ~to be continued

  4. #4
    Lupus
    Guest
    Okay this was bad ass im not going to lie, one of the coolest things that ive read in a long time. One question though what the hell is a Kaustic. I know that he is part of the Toxic Cult of the Skarrd but thats it???

  5. #5
    SeggyGetsHyphy
    Guest
    Quote Originally Posted by Lupus
    Okay this was bad ass im not going to lie, one of the coolest things that ive read in a long time. One question though what the hell is a Kaustic. I know that he is part of the Toxic Cult of the Skarrd but thats it???
    A Kaustic is basically a 'Buzzblade Sergeant' of the Toxic Cult who is completely insane and experiments with every chemical imaginable to create lethal coctails. Most of them end up dying off with their own poisons which they use on themselves in order to perfect their deadliness. Crazy sons of bitches .

  6. #6
    Lupus
    Guest
    That can only be described as bad ass. Its stuff like this that makes me want to make a skarrd army.

  7. #7
    Cain
    Guest
    Very nice. I think you capture the "spirit" of the Skarrd faction nicely. Did you ever see a movie called "Tooth and Nail", came out 1 -3 years ago. If not check it out, I think you'll agree that if a demented tribe of humans existed like the Skarrd they would be something like the "bad guys" in this movie...

  8. #8
    Hard to believe this was 6 years ago. I just noticed that part 1 got chopped in the move, so here it is in it's entirety. It's been a long break, but part 3 soon.

    A mist of blood speckled an ornate mask as injectors receded into internally grafted shafts. No other blood was spilt from the holes at the base of his jaw and neck. The peasant barely had time to process the screams of his wife and daughters being eaten alive. The look of fear in his eyes washed over red. As blood drained from his eyes and ears, he began to retch. The bile that had filled his empty stomach spattered against his attacker’s ravaged skin.
    The stomach acid burned the Kaustic’s open wounds and exposed nerve endings. He snickered at the desensitized pain as his prey flailed on the ground like a dying fish. The man moaned as blood poured from his throat. The Kaustic crouched down and leaned in until his mask was pressed against the bloody face of his enemy. “Where is your god now, forsaken?” he inquired in a tinny voice.
    Rohypnol rose from the husk that, until recently, had been a struggling farmer. He nonchalantly lifted his cloak and wiped the blood from his mask. He surveyed the burning farm and observed three of his buzzblades having trouble taking down some sort of cow-beast. “Worthless,” he exclaimed to empty ears. “I bet you wish you had as much fight in you as your livestock.” The Kaustic looked into the lifeless bloody eyes of his victim. “What’s the matter? Can’t take a joke?”

    ~to be continued…
    Last edited by seggygetshyphy; 05-10-2014 at 08:02 PM.

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