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       #Post#: 194--------------------------------------------------
       Catacylsm is a Dark, Dark Game.
       By: nyanlord Date: June 4, 2013, 1:30 pm
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       I was playing as a Death Korpsman sent down by a Inquisitorial
       Fleet to set up a base on a planet.
       I was doing pretty well, my fusion gun always dropped the undead
       with one shot. . . I eventually managed to fortify a bar, and
       built very deep pits all around, with landmines and bear traps
       that would ensure the end of all those who fell in them.
       Though, something horrible strikes me. . .
       I catch the fungal bloom disease. It pierces right through my
       gasmask, and thick clothing. . . It absolutely ravages my body,
       sending me coughing up grey goo, fist sized spores, and sending
       spore stalks spraying out from my hands, sending ungodly pain
       throughout my body, as I have to pump countless amounts of
       oxycodone, and methamphetamines into my body to refrain from
       going into shock. . .
       Eventually, I get orders from the Lord Inquisitor of the fleet,
       who was unaware of my ailment. . . To destroy the zombie
       infestation and other monstrosities that lurk this planet.
       He did not care how.
       I remember the nuclear missile silo five miles away from the
       city I was holding in, and managed to convince five well armed
       men to aid me in the cause of getting to the nuke silo, and
       putting an end to the zombie menace.
       It was a violent trip, of driving out of the city in our
       armored truck, spraying our vehicle in countless amounts of
       tainted flesh and vomit.
       We eventually lose control of the vehicle, and ram into the
       tree, leaving us vulnerable, as smoke cluttered all around us. .
       . We could hear the hellish moans and growls all around us,
       obviously ones of the undead. . .
       We raised our weapons and began to fire, screaming at each other
       in panic, as with every undead that we slew, ten more arose, and
       even more stronger than the former. . .
       We lost one man to a hulk, that picked him up and ripped him in
       half, sending his fully loaded remington 870 flying onto the
       ground, and his very blood painting the hulk that carried his
       corpse. . .
       After that, it became a utter hell, as our sqaud began to take
       drastic losses, eventually it was only I and another man,
       running from the horde. . . We eventually came across a car with
       a half full tank and the keys in it, and jumped in it and drove
       off. . .
       We rammed through so many bodies, only to hit another tree,
       fifteen steps from the nuclear silo, upon impact I had
       immediately lost consciousness, my helmet saving me from having
       my skull caved in utterly.
       I eventually woke up sometime later, in the smoking wreck of our
       ride. . . I looked to the left of me, to see the body of the man
       I had fled alongside, his side of the  window was smashed open,
       with a strong branch breaking through, and lodged in his neck. .
       . It was obvious that he was dead, and even if he survived such
       ghastly impalement, he was surely beyond recovery. .
       I kicked open the door, and rushed out,
       I tried my best to ignore all the spores deep inside my body, as
       my coughing grew worse and worse, the more I ran, a wracking
       pain going through my body, as a sudden flurry of disgusting
       spores flew from my gloves, I could feel it tear open my flesh,
       as I stopped and screamed in pain, falling to my knees, as I
       waited for it to stop, and immediately withdrew my last needle
       of heroin, and jammed it into my wrists.
       That seemed to stop the pain, as I forced myself back up, and
       began to approach the nuclear silo's stairway, my eyes
       bloodshot, as dark and hateful thoughts whispered into my mind
       to stop right there and end the pain. . . End the horrific
       suffering I was putting myself through. . .
       I refused.
       I stepped to the thick metal door that barred off the stairway,
       and glanced to the terminal, pulling out my revolver and
       shooting the console screen, as it let out a scream of
       electricity, the door suddenly opening, as I stepped forth,
       moving down the stairway, as I was forced to admire the gigantic
       weapon of death and destruction. . . As I made it to the lowest
       level, and saw the launch terminal, as I rushed to it, and
       pulled off my gloves, revealing my pus covered and bubbling with
       spore hands, I held in my intense need to vomit from just gazing
       at my rotten hands, as I began to hack into the terminal, I
       still fail to understand how I managed to breach such a ancient
       machine spirit. . .
       It gave me the option of disabling, or launching the nuke.
       I clearly had my intentions set, as I shook my head at the
       option, slowly moving to the launch missile option, as it gave
       me the coordinates to dial in. . .
       Without hesitation, I had set the coordinates to the city that I
       had came from, thoughts rushing through my mind of how we would
       rid the plague from the world. . .
       I could see emergency lights flashing and hear metal screeching.
       I  heard the missile's propeller's go off, as it lifted up with
       a mighty roar only debatable by that of a god.
       It eventually left the silo, as the terminal slowly shut down, I
       leaned back, and looked at my hands, painfully clenching them,
       as I could feel flesh crunching and bubbles in my flesh popping.
       . .
       Oh Emperor. . . How much I wanted the pain to go away. . .
       And then, I suddenly went silent, a mighty shaking erupted
       throughout the concrete floors, glass cracking, and lights
       suddenly dying out, as I flew off my feet, suddenly blacking out
       as I slammed into the walls. . .
       And that, was the end. . .
       (And now, the run-down.)
       Mission A-Mother****ing-Complished.
       We destroyed the region, with a nuclear missile to the heart of
       the disease.
       Paradise City.
       My right leg is destroyed beyond belief.
       And my left arm is on the verge of falling off.
       I managed to escape the massive nuclear crater, by using the
       hand held teleporter.
       It was worth the teleglow disease. . .
       Now, I can't help but feel hopeless. . .
       The only base with contact to the fleet in orbit has now been
       destroyed, as I stumble through this hellish waste. . .
       Even if it was still standing, I'm still infested with the foul
       plague. . .
       No doubt I would only be met with a heavy flamer upon my
       arrival, and the destruction of all the strange items I had come
       across. . .
       And what did I accomplish?
       The destruction of a foul plague?
       No. . . I still bear it. . .
       The defeat of the menacing undead in the cities?
       I still doubt I've killed them off with the barrage of missiles.
       . .
       The countless deaths of those that could of still been living?
       The deaths of those that had willingly volunteered to aid me on
       my journey to destroy their homes? To eradicate the monstrosity
       that has been terrorizing them?
       I'm afraid that's it. . .
       Now, I must patch my wounds up before I fall victim to the
       severe burns I wield. . .
       Those that had even volunteered didn't even get to see the
       blazing death rain upon the city and the countless forests and
       already hellish landscapes around it. . .
       They had died fighting their way here alongside me. . .
       They fell one by one. . .
       At the hands of the countless hordes that had followed us
       through the trees and buildings. . .
       Or at the hands of the natural wildlife. . .
       Needless to say. . . The aura of invulnerability we gave off
       shortly withered, and  each death was horrifying and tragic in
       it's own way. . .
       #Post#: 214--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Catacylsm is a Dark, Dark Game.
       By: Chris Date: June 20, 2013, 12:03 pm
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       You know, this only wants me to play this game even more.
       #Post#: 218--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Catacylsm is a Dark, Dark Game.
       By: Chris Date: June 28, 2013, 4:47 pm
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       As an update to my last post, it took me about a week before I
       realized that I might wanna try and start a base in order to not
       die so much, but (albeit being a bit sinister and confusing at
       times) it's a LOT of fun.
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