Pretoria, UAC
Smoke from burning buildings choked the skies of Pretoria as the oppressed Ghesite people rose up in rebellion against their captors, calling upon their warrior traditions to sack the miserable concrete prisons they had been confined within for so long. It hung over the chaotic city like a blanket over the skyline, blotting out the sun in its black, ember-speckled haze.
When the clear skies beyond showed themselves at last, however, they came not with relief, nor peace, nor salvation - only panic ensued at the parting of the smoke.
Raining down from above came thousands of fleshy capsules, streaking through the air at terminal velocity to crash into the city in a whirlwind of skin, blood, and rubble. Curiously, no Ghesite was harmed, yet the waste laid to the rest of the city was as though a fleet of bombers had just unloaded its cargo over the populace. Many of these capsules instantly disintegrated upon impact, leaving behind splatters of assorted viscera from both their unfortunate victims and their apparent contents in their wake. Many more, however, retained their form upon embedding themselves within the city's grounds - it was from these crucial capsules that the horrors in store for Pretoria would soon emerge. For once the aerial barrage came to an end, they began to stir. And pulsate. And groan.
Finally, all over Pretoria, the capsules burst open.
All in unison, a swarm of ravenous skinboys rushed out from the flesh pods, eyes wide and mouths gaping as they charged at every Afrikaner in their path. Blindingly fast jets of thick fluid coursed through the air like bullets from the skinboys' orifices, tearing holes through flesh, metal, and concrete alike. Those who had hoped to outrun the rampaging fiends quickly found themselves gunned down by the viscous emissions. None could hope to escape - all within the skinboys' grasp would be met with a fate worse than death, their corpses mangled and ravaged by feral, lecherous beasts who knew no mercy. And yet Pretoria was only the beginning, for the skinboys, once released, would not be sated so easily.
When the clear skies beyond showed themselves at last, however, they came not with relief, nor peace, nor salvation - only panic ensued at the parting of the smoke.
Raining down from above came thousands of fleshy capsules, streaking through the air at terminal velocity to crash into the city in a whirlwind of skin, blood, and rubble. Curiously, no Ghesite was harmed, yet the waste laid to the rest of the city was as though a fleet of bombers had just unloaded its cargo over the populace. Many of these capsules instantly disintegrated upon impact, leaving behind splatters of assorted viscera from both their unfortunate victims and their apparent contents in their wake. Many more, however, retained their form upon embedding themselves within the city's grounds - it was from these crucial capsules that the horrors in store for Pretoria would soon emerge. For once the aerial barrage came to an end, they began to stir. And pulsate. And groan.
Finally, all over Pretoria, the capsules burst open.
All in unison, a swarm of ravenous skinboys rushed out from the flesh pods, eyes wide and mouths gaping as they charged at every Afrikaner in their path. Blindingly fast jets of thick fluid coursed through the air like bullets from the skinboys' orifices, tearing holes through flesh, metal, and concrete alike. Those who had hoped to outrun the rampaging fiends quickly found themselves gunned down by the viscous emissions. None could hope to escape - all within the skinboys' grasp would be met with a fate worse than death, their corpses mangled and ravaged by feral, lecherous beasts who knew no mercy. And yet Pretoria was only the beginning, for the skinboys, once released, would not be sated so easily.
