40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 6 6. An Ordinary Nostramo Rainy Night ([-])
It was dark, as always.The same was true of the rain, which fell incessantly as usual.It rained a lot in Nostramo, but instead of thunder and lightning, there was a manic downpour of rain.

In Nostramo, rain is what it is.They do not come from nature.They are the waste water that the nobles poured down from their upper nests.

Between the cascading pinnacles, countless heaters wait patiently.

They are not sentient, but have been programmed.All their lives they wait for these rains, for them to turn into condensed clouds.In the last moments of life, these rains will rise again little by little in another form.

They will pass through ancient machines, be quietly transported among the rumbling pipes, and finally become the heat for the nobles, so that they can dance in the gorgeous court wearing only human skin, without losing sight. demeanor.

This is simply the best description of Nostramo's ecology: the benefits belong to the nobles, and the people who lay in the nest are only worthy of being burned by acid rain, lingering by the stench, and finally turned into rotten corpses in the gutter.

Khalil was still squatting on the huge gargoyle, he was wearing a cloak, so the acid rain couldn't hurt him.The smell is still sour, but it's tolerable.

He stared down, and the chaos he saw brought a grim smile to his pale face.

As he expected, Specter made the mistake every fledgling hunter makes—he only focused on the enemies in front of him, and forgot to pay attention to those still in the dark.

Carelessness is always enemy number one.

Hunters can come and go in the dark, but that doesn't mean the dark embraces them.In fact, the darkness will also turn into monsters at certain moments, devouring their flesh and blood.

Khalil stood up, his cloak fluttering slightly in the wind.He didn't mean to help, but just watched with cold eyes.

As he said, this is a solitary hunt that belongs only to ghosts.

but
He shook his head with a sneer, a cold blue light flickered in his eyes.
-
escape.

Ghosts danced back and forth between the dark, damp walls.Using both hands and feet, he climbed up one roof after another, jumping non-stop between the bricks and tiles that had become wet from the rain.

From time to time, there would be small, disturbed, fearful exclamations from the bricks beneath his feet.But most of the time, it was the bullets that greeted him.

Occasionally, he would fall, into a puddle of garbage or dirty mud, and crawl out awkwardly to continue running.

He didn't stop for a moment.

But it didn't help, the pursuers behind him had been chasing him for most of the night.So far, they still have no intention of stopping.

They chased after him, relying on a two-wheeled fast-moving vehicle, chasing him non-stop on the street.Ghost doesn't know its name, and it really doesn't bother to care.He has more pressing things to do now.

The gunshots rang out in the rain, and they didn't stop.

Those bullets roared past, several times they even grazed his scalp.

Rough cries came from the street below, mingled with the roar of engines.When they passed through the rain curtain and reached the ghost's eardrums, they no longer sounded like human voices.

Ghost doesn't understand.

He didn't understand why they were so obsessed, or why they were so crazy, or how they managed to have such good eyesight while taking drugs all year round.

But
Ghost thought, Khalil was right.

He should really be quiet.

He killed the woman, but there were more to come.Khalil said to clean up the whole gang.So he walked out of the door of that room and started killing in that eerie three-story building.

Things went well and no one noticed him.He was like a breeze blowing through the hallway, taking the warmth of life away.But he forgot one thing.

He forgot to close the window.

The rain was roaring in, and the wind was blowing the windows, banging them against the walls.The floor was gradually soaked by the sour rain, mixed with blood seeped under the carpet, and finally penetrated the floor and fell on top of someone's head.

Things started to go bad from here.

The moment the sirens and howls pierced the night, the ghost knew something was about to happen.His hunch was always right, he chose to leave immediately, but it was too late.

He was still found.

At first, it was just a few scattered chasers.In just a few minutes, they had grown to three dozen.

After just half an hour, the number turned into three digits.As for now, Ghost believes that there are at least four gangs chasing him.

They don't even know what's going on, but they like to be violent.

It is an acquired right, the opposite of oppression, the end of suffering.

They entered it contentedly, and ran through the night, howling with excitement, for the flesh and blood of a man they had never met, and slaughtered all the innocents they saw along the way.

There is no reason to follow.

It's like a carnival and he's not one of them, he's just a carnival prize, so he starts running.

Every human being must learn to walk, and then learn to run, and he is no exception.He had learned to run a long time ago, without a teacher.

However, in the past, his superhuman physical strength made him never feel tired from running.

Now, the ghost felt it.

Breathing became difficult, and his heart was beating so fast that it was almost impossible for him to maintain his balance between movements.

His hearing also began to gradually fail, leaving only a monotonous noise.The rain fell from the sky, soaking his clothes and leaving sinuous lines on his pale skin.

Many of them even passed the corners of his eyes and dripped from his chin.They can cause burning pain to ordinary people, but to ghosts, he only feels warmth.

But he doesn't want to.He doesn't want to be warmed by them.

While running, Ghost unconsciously let out a low growl.

It was born from his throat without being familiar to himself.For the first second the sound appeared, he even mistakenly thought it was some monster roaring at him in the dark.

It wasn't until the next second that he realized that it was his own voice.

- And then came the pain.

Sweeping from his back, the pain was so painful that he could hardly resist, breathe, and maintain a calm mind.

He couldn't keep his balance anymore, his hands were dancing in the rain, and then he fell hard, and fell on a piece of asphalt roof.

I am bleeding.Ghost thought painfully.

He would not miss the brutal fact that blood was somehow indistinguishable from life.He valued them, but was powerless to keep them from leaving.

In a trance, ghosts actually heard their voices.

"Good-bye, good-bye, good-bye. We are leaving you, foolish child, and the darkness will embrace you. Welcome it."

No.don't go.please.

The ghost let out an indistinct roar from its throat again.

This is not the first time he has been hit by a bullet.

Back in the old days, when Ghost lived on rats in a mine, he was shot by the owner of the mine with a poor-quality firearm.

Seconds after the bullet hit his flesh and caused him pain, the ghost, who couldn't even speak at the time, realized he was being shot.

He didn't even need to think about it, it just popped out of his mind.Then more cold words—the kind of gun that shot him, the caliber of the bullet, what to do after the injury
This time is no exception.

He lay prone on the icy roof, and a few uncommon terms came to his mind.One of them was something he needed badly right now, but the ghost didn't bother with them, he just wanted to get up and run.

It was the biggest mistake he made tonight.

I have to leave.

I must. stay out of the dark.

His thoughts were very confused, so after feeling a pull and pain in his back that was so strong that it seemed that his flesh and blood were about to be torn apart, Ghost suddenly woke up.

And noticed something.

The thing buried deep in the flesh and blood of his back was not a bullet.

"Catch it!"

No.No.I can not--

Ghost widened his eyes and let out a stern roar.The pain clouded his eyes with a blood-red mist, and to make matters worse, something was pulling him down.

What's next?
he does not know.

Is it the ground?Or a trash can in a dirty alley?Or, hundreds of gang members with guns waiting for him?

He had no time to think, and he started to fall.The ghost fell heavily to the ground, and he quickly got up, using both hands and feet, climbed up the wall again, and tried to escape in panic.

"You can't run away!" Someone said with a smirk. "Try this, you bastard!"

The ear-piercing sound of the engine sounded suddenly in the next moment, and the tugging sensation hit again.

The ghost roared and was pulled down from the wall again, and out of the corner of his eye he caught three of the bipeds that were being used to chase him.A black cable ran from his back to the fronts of the three vehicles.

The pull he felt came from them.

"Kill it!"

At the dark alley, someone shouted violently: "Peel its skin, hang it up, let it bleed to death!"

"I want its head, I want its head!"

"Shoot it! Shoot its legs! See if it can run!"

"It's better to roast it, I want to eat meat!"

must leave.

I must. Get out of here, out of the darkness.

In the chaotic mind, only these two thoughts were floating.The ghost roared and waved its arms, trying to keep the monsters away from him.But he couldn't get what he wanted, his hand slid in the air, his sharp nails pierced into the wall, but failed to touch any flesh and blood.

"It's still moving!" someone yelled.

"Then give it some color!"

A sharp pain came, and then his consciousness fell into darkness.

The ghost watched it come with despair.

(End of this chapter)