Again

A bird call echoed in his head.

Silas rounded the corner at a sprint, nearly tripping over a discarded lasgun, a dagger gripped in his hand. Its crude leather-bound handle drew blood from his palm, where bare metal dug into flesh. He ran directly at the only target he saw. In his frenzy, he lost himself.
“BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD,” he bellowed through cracked lips.
Before he could finish the refrain, the robed man before him turned. Silas saw the surprise displayed plainly on the man’s face as he clumsily raised the auto pistol in his hand, pointing it in Silas’ direction and squeezing the trigger. The first few shots rattled against the wall on Silas’ right, pulverising rockcrete and sending the resultant dust flying through the air in small clouds. The last shot struck true, and Silas’ vision went blank.
A bird call echoed in his head. 

Silas rounded the corner at a sprint. A dagger gripped in his hand. Blood flowed from his long red coat, its tail dragging on the floor, leaving a red river in his wake. He ran directly towards the target he knew would be waiting there. He did not stop to consider how he knew. He only thought of the blood that needed to be spilt. The man’s auto pistol rattled in bursts, laying low oncoming cultists with ease. Silas got closer than ever before, something within him suppressing the war cry he desperately wanted to shout. The man, his blue robe glowing in the gloom of the hallway, was ten meters away when Silas saw him turn, much more confidently than before, once again raising his auto pistol. He fired a single shot, this time directly at Silas. 

A bird call echoed in his head.

Silas stopped himself before he reached the corner, his bloodlust quelled by an overwhelming sense of impending doom. In the moment of relative clarity, he took in his surroundings. The sounds of battle saturated his senses. Screams of arcane Khornish curses were cut short by the ‘bang’ of a single firearm. Silas wanted desperately to be a part of the battle. He peaked around the corner, watching the tall man in blue. Their aim was perfect. Every round took the life of one of the dozens of cultists falling over each other to reach him. The narrow passage they used to approach made them easy targets. He gripped his dagger tight, feeling it would do him no good, even though it had never failed him before. Silas knew he had the best chance of reaching the man. Despite this, he contained his zeal, waiting and watching. Silas’ patience was rewarded when he saw a shimmer on the man’s shoulder. The glimmering spectral form of a two-headed avian materialised in once empty space. Its feathers ranged from a light purple to a deep blue. Before Silas could remember where he had seen the creature before, the man in blue turned, eyes trained on exactly where Silas hid. With uncanny accuracy, the man loosed a single shot directly at Silas’ head.
A bird call echoed in his head.
Silas approached the corner slowly. A speed atypical of a worshipper of Khorne. He wanted to run, but his body was screaming at him to exercise caution. What was there to be wary of? He could not say exactly. All he could identify was a feeling which kept him still. The feeling of having experienced this exact moment before. He thought harder, attempting to dredge up any possible information that could help. Nothing came to him save the existence of a bird. A mutated thing he somehow knew was important. It was as if he had come to this conclusion before but had forgotten when. He knew the bird was on the man’s left shoulder. What man? He had yet to see who he was picturing in his mind but felt the man’s presence around the next turn of the winding hallway he was following. 

The bird had to die. He reached down and, without looking, picked up the lasgun he knew would be lying there. He had never fired such a weapon before, but with a practised motion that belied that fact, he raised the weapon to his shoulder. Rounding the corner, he raised the lasgun, aiming at the shimmering spot over the man in blue’s left shoulder where he knew the bird would be. Before it materialised once again, he squeezed the trigger, sending a blinding streak of red light through the air. The creature fell; a hole blazed through its torso. Silas watched its twin heads hit the ground, creating vibrations in the floor that suggested an unnatural mass. 

A jolt of memory flooded through Silas’s head. He felt as though such images were those experienced by someone else, but under that doubt was a surety that each memory was his own. He finally felt free. The man in blue turned to look at him in surprise once more before Silas pulled the trigger again and vaporised the man’s heart. It was over. Finally.

Again

A bird call echoed in his head.