The figure was gargantuan. Tall. Imposing. Clad in a full panoply of blue plate, it strode towards her like a herald of doom. Her doom. A twisted, gnarled staff was held in its hand, adorned with the golden motif of a two headed eagle at its end. A pulsating pistol was holstered at its side, radiating a dark green aura of menace. The being's armor was tapered with thin strips of parchment that held strange sigils unrecognizable to her. A white helm with red visors sat over its head, glaring at her in silent condemnation. The helm itself was attached to some metal hood that occasionally cackled with faint electric discharge.
She was afraid. Very afraid. How could this thing intrude in her mind, especially when she was asleep?
"Well, well. What do we have here? A budding psyker? How unexpected," the ventral mouth piece of the thing hissed into life, distorting her hearing with the sound of grating metal.
"W-What are you?" she cried out in panic.
"Hmmm… Your abilities are not yet fully developed. However, the talent is still there. Perhaps the Imperium can make use of you," it ignored her question completely.
"What do you mean? What Imperium?" her feet backpedaled in an effort to get away from this ominous being.
"Sadly, you are a mutant," the figure's voice held a faint tinge of reluctance in it, "If only your blood was untainted. However, one cannot change one's birth, no matter how one might wish to serve the Emperor."
"Then you'll leave me alone?" the words came out as a naïvely as she could make it.
The thing laughed as it continued towards her. She shuddered.
"Not quite. Being a psyker does not make you immune to the failures of your blood-sucking kin."
Shock crept into every portion of her body. This being knew what she was! What her family was!
"H-How?" she managed.
"Nothing escapes from the wrathful gaze of the Emperor and His Angels of Death."
"G-Get away from me!"
She needed to wake up! Now! She needed to warn Edward! Her family!
"Trying to flee are we? It is pointless. My own formidable powers have already locked you in your own conscience, mutant," its tone was filled with deadly mirth.
"No! Why must you do this! We haven't harmed anyone!"
The amusement was gone from its voice in a flash.
"Lies! I know of your filthy, depraved kind, monster! You are a mutant and a heretic! You have corrupted all these innocent souls around you! Feeding on them when your blasphemous hunger arises!"
"No! We are innocent! I am innocent!" she protested vainly.
A massive gauntlet pried off the ivory helm. She gasped at the face it hid. Features paler than her own glowered at her in pure loathing. Crimson eyes fixated on her like a predator watching prey.
"I am Epistolary Seydon of the Death Spectres. I tell you this; because my face and my voice are the last things you will ever see or hear."
The man's dilating irises flashed with whipping tendrils of psychic power.
Alice Cullen screamed.
Veteran Sergeant Darkur grunted as he slammed his power fist down on the hood of a retreating vehicle. The thinly armored machine was flipped rear over end from the massive blow, landing haphazardly on its top with a screeching crash. A uniformed man crawled out of the ruined wreck, moaning in pain. A round from Varken's bolter ended his misery.
Turning, the Death Spectre drilled four precisely aimed shots into the backs of a crowd of running heretics, blasting apart their unarmored frames with undisguised relish. Brother Ichsan added his own salvo to Darkur's volley, reducing the gaggle of turncoats into a pile of gory chunks.
"Brothers! Today we strike down the heretics of this blighted world! The entire 5th Company joins us in our glorious endeavors! Show these fools no mercy! Forward Spectres of Death! For the Emperor and for Corax!" Darkur boomed through his suit's vox-emitters.
"Purge and Kill!" Brother Natios echoed his sergeant's war cry with his own. The black armored behemoth surged swiftly through a panicked crowd of confused traitors, his boltgun forgotten as he used his hands to kill.
"Scorn the heretic! Scorn the mutant!" Usuar roared, his bolter sputtering with staccato fire. Half a dozen flailing forms disappeared under the storm of exploding shells.
"We are the Emperor's Wrath made manifest!" began Tanrek, the long barrel of his lascannon glowing faintly. A beam of blue light spat from his weapon a second later, shearing through a multitude of speeding, wheeled vehicles.
"We are His Fury given form!" finished Falkius, a torrent of shells issuing forth from his own weapon in support of his brother. The survivors stumbling out from the destroyed cars were torn asunder by the lethal barrage.
"Redeem them with bolt and blade!" Brother Meteron lifted a screaming man up in the air, impaled at the end of his bayonet. His boltgun boomed into life and turned the struggling heretic into a visceral mist.
"Cleanse and Burn!" Halstis kicked down the door to a one story dwelling. His flamer flared with a gout of burning promethium, scorching the insides of the entire building in one, almighty conflagration. Any screams were drowned out by the hungry embers.
"The Emperor guides our hand! Accept this and welcome your divine retribution with open arms!" Avarian bellowed, his shrieking chainsword messily sundering apart a mewling traitor. The veteran Astartes smashed aside another turncoat with an elbow to the throat before loosing a volley from his own bolter. A trio of fleeing heretics was flung on their faces like ragdolls, landing lifelessly in bloody heaps.
Darkur gave a roar of approval as his men, his Astartes, turned the streets of this coven for traitors red with corrupted blood.