The Space Marine crashed through the undergrowth, muscles afire with adrenaline and the chemical cocktails of battle rage pushing him on through the edge of exhaustion. A wrecking ball made of metal and immortal flesh tearing through the tissue paper world of mortals. He was racing the bullets of his foes, and losing. Turning he fired into the undergrowth as parts of his body were torn away, too large in his armour to take cover. A shot took his bolter from his fist in a shower of metal; another slammed him to his knees.
“No.” He roared struggling to his feet again. Then his muscles went slack as half the contents of his chest were emptied out into the back of his armour, the destructive wasp whining as it ricocheted around the inside of the carapace.
Some time passed beneath the twin suns of the jungle moon. Animals came and went drawn by the smell of blood; insects started their feast.
The jungle flowed around the hunter as he stepped from his cover to look down at the Space Marine. His face was drawn in shades of greys and greens that had been worked down into the valleys of his skin. His smile was like rags pulled over a poor artist’s impression of a human skull. The Space Marine’s eyes glided over him, having trouble finding where the man stopped and the trees began.
“How?”
The hunter cupped his hands and lit a cigarette. “You’re painted bright blue. I’m not.”
“Oh.”
“Yes.”
There wasn’t much else to say, somehow several thousands years of martial history had managed to overlook one simple fact: You were easier to kill if people knew where you were.
The hunter’s gun barked in the jungle.
***
Just a quicky, trying to get into the writting thing again. Inspired by this thread
show your colors
Jungle Fun
Linear Mode
