The following article is a /tg/ related story or fanfic. Should you continue, expect to find tl;dr and an occasional amount of awesome.
This article or section is EXTRA heretical. Prepare to be purged.
This article is awesome. Do not fuck it up.
HS40K (High School 40K, 40K High, 40KH, etc.) was written by some writefag calling himself Leibowitz, based on ideas stolen from a comic by the drawfag Colossal Fagot (aka Mr. Culexus), the /tg/ community (aka Hivemind), and his own futile yearning to know the emotion humans call "love".
 Chapter One
"Yeah, my dad gave me 'The Talk' last night," Scout Marine groaned.
Lolcron turned his soulless gaze toward Scout and stared. Angry Marine continued to glare into his brown paper lunch bag.
"MOTHERFUCKING HAM SANDWICH FOR THREE DAYS IN A GODDAMN ROW." Angry brought his armored fist down on the tabletop, crushing his lunchbag flat. "I FUCKING HATE HAM."
Scout sighed. "Then go buy the cafeteria hot lunch, man."
"FUCKING CREAMED CORN AND SHITLOAF SURPRISE? FUCK THAT SHIT."
"Trade with someone, moron," intoned Lolcron.
Angry stood and frowned belligerently around the lunchroom. As usual, the three friends had a table to themselves. Not toward the south side windows, with the popular kids, but in the corner by the outside door. The room was filled with a buzz of conversation. The Dark Eldar Wych and Daemonette were laughing, probably at someone's expense. A Techpriest and a fat, sweating Ork Mekboy were arguing loudly over a complex cardgame.
Angry turned and growled at the skinny, snaggle-toothed girl trying to edge past him. She clutched a lunchbag in both hands and her eyes were resolutely fixed on the door.
"HOLD IT." Angry grabbed the girl's arm, the fingers of his gauntlet closing like a vise. She flinched. "WHAT'S IN THE FUCKIN' BAG?"
"Hwee...we captured thees waffles for kay-osss..."
Angry snatched his smashed bag from the tabled and shoved it toward her face. Meat juice dripped from the darkening paper.
"Whaat...whatever hyoo desire..."
"Cut it out, Angry." Scout was blushing with embarrassment at his cousin's behavior. "Let her go."
Angry turned and snarled at Scout. The grinding of his teeth was almost audible.
"Come on, man, you can have my meatbread, I'm not even hungry. God-Emperor, you're being such an asshole."
Angry shoved the girl away and flopped back down into his seat. "Gimme the fuckin' meatbread, asscunt."
Scout pushed the remains of his lunch across the table with a sigh, and looked up at the girl. "Sorry about that, uh..." He trailed off, realizing he had no idea who she was. She stared at him.
Blushing, she turned and hurried out the door.
For a moment, the three sat in silence. Except for Angry, who muttered and cursed as he stuffed his face.
Lolcron broke the quiet. "What talk, meatbag?"
Scout blinked at him. "Uh, what?"
"You told us Guilliman gave you 'The Talk'. Explain."
"Oh. Uh...Empra, you know. The purging talk."
"I do not know."
Scout blushed again, irritated at the memory. "He sat me down and gave me this long lecture about how I was growing up, and all the changes my geneseed would be causing, and how he knew it was a confusing time for a young marine. Then he launched into this bit about how I'd be feeling these urges to purge xenos and heretics, and how this was all perfectly normal, but I should never purge without proper protection and armament. God-Emperor, I've never been so embarrassed."
Angry spoke up, spitting crumbs of meatbread across the table. "Fucking old fart thinks you're a goddamn little kid. We're fucking teenagers, it's not like we've never fucking purged a bitch before. Amiright, Lolcron? FUCK."
Lolcron nodded slowly. "Many a wretched biological has fallen to my Gauss flayer. Their screams echoed as they begged for mercy, for kindness alien to my icy mind."
"Fuck yeah, 'cron."
The two turned to look at Scout, who was staring intently at his hands.
Angry's jaw fell open, and his eyebrows lowered. "MOTHER FUCK. You're fucking unblooded."
Scout was turning red. "Dammit, Angry, shut up."
"Fuck, it's true, you've never fucking purged anyone! Fucking fuck!"
Scout gritted his teeth.
Angry was giving him a look of combined contempt and astonishment. "Shitting dick-nipples, Scout, with the amount of play your brother Ultramarine gets, he never fuckin' sent any your way? That thundering asshole purges a different xeno bitch every night of the goddamn week!"
"Well, yeah," Scout muttered, "It's easy for him, he's captain of the damn Bloodbowl team."
"You should ask out Cultist-chan."
The two Marines looked at Lolcron in surprise. "What the fuck are you talking about, you creepy metal fuck?" spat Angry.
His deathless eyes stared back at them, unblinking. "Cultist-chan. The girl you accosted. Ask her on a date. Then purge her."
Scout sputtered. "She's kinda cute, yeah, but what makes you think..."
Lolcron interrupted in his sepulchral monotone. "She is unpopular. She is moderately attractive, but not sufficiently so to overcome her social disadvantages. Her family situation is tenuous and chaotic. There is a high probability that she has self-esteem issues and craves acceptance. She may be attracted to you, and you rescued her from a problematic situation."
"Fuck yeah, easy purge!" Angry yelled loudly enough that Scout glanced around at the other tables to make sure no one was looking at them. "And did you see the way she fuckin' dresses, that ripped-up goth shit? No fuckin' armor save on that shit, she's fuckin asking for it! I'll loan you my fuckin' Landraider so you can take her out. FUCKIN DO IT, FAGGOT."
"Alright, alright, Empra, I'll ask her out." Scout slumped in his seat. In the grim darkness of the far future, being a teenager sure was complicated.
 Chapter Two
"Hey, Macha," said Scout, not looking up from the spreadsheet on the computer screen, "We're not gonna have enough for punch."
"Yes we will. That's why we do this planning in advance. We'll work something out...a fundraiser or something." Macha was chewing on a strand of her long red hair as she leaned over Scout's shoulder to peer disapprovingly at the uncooperative numbers.
Scout sighed. "Macha, there's not nearly enough time before prom for a fundraiser. Why the hell did you blow the entire budget booking Doomrider and the Emperor's Children?"
She folded her arms and looked down her nose at him. "If you have a problem with the committee decision-making process, you shouldn't be in Student Government."
Scout spun around in his chair to face her. "I'm only in it because I need the extracurricular. What's your excuse?"
"If you aren't going to take it seriously, then..."
Scout gave her a tired smile. "Oh, come on, Macha. You don't like sitting through those meetings any more than I do."
She frowned. "Nonsense. I chair every meeting, I...um."
"Heh...yeah, and after the first ten minutes you start sounding like my friend Lolcron. You're bored to tears. Aw, Empra, Vice Principle Eldrad makes you do it, doesn't he?"
"Well, uh, yes, my father is of the opinion that Student Government builds character, and I agree."
Scout slumped in his chair. "Sure you do. So because of him, you wind up head of the prom planning committee, and I wind up staying after school helping you figure out how many plastic cups we can buy if we get off-brand cola."
Macha bristled. "It's not like I forced you into it, stupid. But you can't quit now, you made a commitment! Don't you care about prom?"
"Honestly? Not particularly. I wasn't planning on going." He spun the chair again, and stared out the door at the people walking by in the hallway. He caught a glimpse of ripped black fabric and tattoos.
"Whaaat?" Macha was fuming now, her face going almost as red as the stripes on her cheek. "But you said..."
"Look, can we finish this tomorrow?" Scout grabbed his bag and headed for the door. "Sorry, I really gotta go."
"Scout! You're being really immature! You can't..." He didn't catch the rest of her harangue as he shut the door behind him and hurried down the hall. He skidded around the corner, and saw his target, strolling along and chatting with the weird one-horned girl with the BO problem.
"Cultist-chan! Hey! Cultist-chan!"
The two girls turned and looked up in surprise as Scout jogged up to them. He stopped, panting, and realized he hadn't thought this far ahead. "Uh...hi," he muttered.
There were several seconds of silence. Then the horned girl grinned widely. "Ohhhhhhh, Cultist, is this the guy? He's cuuute!"
Scout froze. Cultist-chan froze. The horned girl looked confused for a moment.
Then she looked uncomfortable.
Then she belched. It was a hearty, solid belch, lasting about three seconds and echoing up and down the hallway. A foul stench washed over them, curling the edges of the posters stuck to the walls.
Cultist-chan broke into a snaggle-toothed grin and started cackling wildly. "Plaguebearer-chaaaan! Thaat one had thee power of thee daark gods!"
The daemon girl watched her for a moment, then began to snort with laughter. Scout bit his lip, but couldn't stop a snicker.
Cultist-chan was still giggling. Scout thought back to his training, his indoctrination. He must have courage, lest he disgrace the name of the Adeptus Astartes. "So, um, Cultist-chan, can I talk to you for a minute?"
Cultist-chan wiped a tear from her eye. "Eef that ees your weeesh..."
Plaguebearer slapped her friend on the back and attempted a wink; difficult, because she only had one eye. "I'll see you later, girl!" She laughed, and walked away down the hall, leaving the two alone.
Scout coughed. "So...uh. What are you doing here so late?"
"Hwee await transportaayshunn."
"Um...your ride's pretty late, huh?"
"Daddy Abaddon lost hees liscense. Hee's been uneemployed seence thee last crusade, hand hee dreenks... Hwee must wait for Uncle Kharn to geef us ay ryyde."
Scout stammered. "Oh, Emperor, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to...wait, Coach Kharn's your uncle?"
She stared at her shoes. "Eeet ees soo. Hwee awaait thee end of practeeece."
"Oh, I gotcha. Um. My brother's on the team. You wanna walk over to the field and see them?"
She smiled at him, teeth crooked and filed. "Whatever hyoo desire."
They walked together, sneaking glances at each other, through the halls and out into the warmth of the late afternoon sunlight. Soon as they approached the field, they could hear the raucous cries and vicious crunches of Bloodbowl practice.
Scout paused, thinking of his brother. Huge, handsome, perfectly muscled, resplendent in his gleaming blue power armor. And a total asshole. The last person Scout wanted to see right then.
Cultist-Chan walked a step further, then turned to look at Scout. "Hwaaat ees wrong?"
Scout swallowed. It was now or never. For the Primarch. For the honor of the Adeptus Astartes. For the Emperor Himself. If he was ever going to purge a heretic, he had to speak now. He closed his eyes, for a moment, and with a supreme effort of will ripped the words out of his throat and into existence.
"Um...you wanna go see a movie tomorrow?"
She flushed and grinned, shuffling her feet. "Hweee liiike moovieees."
"Uh. I'll pick you up at...um..."
"Eight eees my faaayvorite number."
"Right. Uh. I'll see you at eight. Um. Bye then, Cultist-chan."
Still blushing, he walked quickly back to the school. Through the halls and out the other side was probably the quickest way to the parking lot where Angry was supposed to pick him up. He was probably already there, and getting more and more pissed at having to wait.
Lost in thought, Scout turned a corner, only to find himself staring into an abyss. A single great eye filled the hallway, surrounded by a corona of multicolored, crackling fire. The massive pupil seemed a portal to another realm, a dark and swirling void where scintillating points of light chased and multiplied and devoured each other.
"Oh. Um, hi Principal Tzeench."
The vortex seemed to stare at him, through him. Then it narrowed, peering at him. Its voice boomed down the hallway, subtly warping reality as it passed. "PROCEED."
"Um. OK. Bye, Principal Tzeench."
Scout hurried away down the sunlit hallway, his mind filled with swirling darkness and a snaggle-toothed smile.
 Chapter Three
"It sure is a clear night." "Hyess. Eeet syure ees."
"It sure is a clear night."
"Hyess. Eeet syure ees."
They were lying next to each other on the flat top of the battered old yellow Landraider. Scout Marine stared up at the stars and thought furiously. They'd kissed at the end of the first date. Well, more or less.
To be more precise, they'd made nervous small-talk on the ride home from the movie. Then, when he pulled to the curb outside her dad's trailer, they'd awkwardly pressed their lips together. They...missed, sort of, so that he wound up kissing her right below her nose. She snorted, which tickled his lips, and then they both giggled nervously. He was about to try again when Abaddon came out of the trailer in a wifebeater and underpants, holding a half-empty bottle of cheap amasec, and yelling at Cultist-chan for forgetting to pick up his Lho sticks. She'd given Scout a sorry look, and hurried inside.
But the second date had gone great so far. He'd picked her up Saturday afternoon at 2, after enduring a rant from Angry Marine about being careful with his Landraider...as if a few more scratches and dents would matter, the way Angry drove.
They'd gotten to the zoo just in time to see the Carnifex feeding. She laughed her head off to hear the homeless people scream as they were messily devoured. He laughed when she told him the story of how her dad got drunk and climbed into the Unyuufex enclosure and had his arms hugged off. He bought her a little plush ripper doll, and they held hands as they walked down the path. They stood in the fungal grove and smiled at each other while warty balls with legs and teeth hunted each other through the mushrooms and a naked Ork banged on the bars of his cage and yelled for someone to let him out before he was late for work. They kissed again. He got his aim right that time, and they stood pressed together for a moment in the shade, until she startled him by running her tongue playfully along his lips. She cackled when he jumped in surprise, and ran away down the path. He laughed, and ran after her.
They went to a cheap Tau place for dinner. He hadn't thought he liked sushi, but when they started daring one another to add more and more wasabi he found himself having a great time, even when his eyes started watering and his oral acid gland rebelled. He sneezed on the table, dissolving a hole clear through it. Cultist-chan had given him a conspiratorial look and put her plate over the hole. He'd thrown some Thrones down on the table, and the two of them had hurried out to the parking lot, stifling laughter.
About halfway through the movie, he'd gotten up his nerve to put his arm around her and gotten his sleeve caught on her spikes. She laughed as she helped him untangle it, then they kissed again and he put his hand on her leg. Emperor, he couldn't for the life of him remember what the movie had been about.
And now here they were, on top of the Landraider, on a hill, with the lights of the town below them and the stars of the galaxy above.
Was it rushing it? Was it time?
He heard Cultist-chan move in the darkness beside him. She rolled over and pressed against his side, laying her head on his shoulder.
He lifted his head and kissed her.
She pulled away and sat up. He rose and put his arm around her. He realized she was shivering.
"Cultist-chan? Are you cold? Do you want to go inside?"
"Eeet ees hokay."
He smiled in the darkness. "Come here. Let me keep you warm."
He held her close, breathing in her smell. Smoke from her dad's Lho sticks. Incense from profane rites. Some kind of shampoo. God-Emperor, he wanted to purge her so bad. She had stopped shivering, and turned her head to kiss his neck. He gasped as she gently nibbled him. He slipped a hand up her tattered shirt, and she murmured. He pulled away. She pulled back and looked at him.
He realized there were tears in her eyes.
"Eeeets hokay," she whispered. "Hyoo can purge us eef hyoo want too. Whatever hyoo desire..."
"I...um, I don't..." He stammered.
She smiled ruefully, and pointed down between his legs. He looked down. The bulge of the bolt pistol in his pocket was painfully obvious.
He looked back up at her. She was smiling, but tears were rolling down her face.
"Um...Cultist-chan, are you really sure about this?"
"Hyess. Hyoo made us feeel speshul. Hyoo made us happy. Heet is what hyoo wanted, hyess?"
She lunged at him, wrapping her arms around him and pressing her lips to his neck again. Her hand was on his, guiding it to the bolter in his pocket. There was a roaring in his ears. He barely heard her whisper, "Heet was niice while heet laasteed..."
He shook his head, grabbed her shoulders, and pushed her away from him. "What are you talking about? It's not over!"
She smiled at him sadly. "Heet ees hokay. Hwee know that tomorrow, hyoo weel go to hyoor friends and tell them hyoo purged me, hand they wheel give hyoo the high fhives, and then hyoo go bach to hyoor friends hand hwee go back to ours. After hwee get out of thee hospital."
Scout Marine felt his mouth hanging open. "What? Why would you think that?"
She frowned, and turned her face away from him. "Dat's hjust how eet werks. Hevery tyme."
"You've...you've been purged before?"
She took his hand in hers, and guided it under her shirt. He felt soft skin...then something else. Scar tissue. An old las burn.
"You've...you've been purged before?"
"All thee boys say hwee are an easy purge, hyess? Heet ees hokay. At leest...At leest hwee..." Her shoulders started shaking, and she began to sniffle.
Scout looked at her. Her hair shone in the starlight, against the stark profile of the Chaos spikes behind her head. She looked up at him. Tears ran from her eyes.
She gave him a sad, snaggle-toothed smile. Suddenly, he knew his duty.
"Cultist-chan, please go to prom with me!"
Her jaw dropped open. He pulled her to him and hugged her tight.
"Will you, Cultist-chan? Please?"
"Whatever hyoo...desire..." She threw her head back and cried.
 Chapter Four
Roboute Guilliman sat back in his easy chair, settled his reading glasses on his nose, and folded the newspaper to the sports section. He allowed himself a small smile of satisfaction. It was a quiet Sunday morning, the lawn was mowed, the bills were paid, and his boy was in the paper. Captain of his Bloodbowl team. Led his teammates to victory over the Greenville Waaaaagh. Good kid, natural leader. Not like the other. Guilliman frowned. Scout Marine was a good boy at heart, but some of his friends...and that girl. The way she dressed. Guilliman sighed. Now he'd worried himself again. Had he given the boy 'The Talk' too soon?
The Vox beeped. Guilliman glared at it. Heedless, it beeped again. He heaved himself to his feet and went to answer it.
"Venerate the Immortal Emperor, Ultramarine residence, Roboute Guilliman speaking. Hmm? Still in bed, I think...and at this hour, too. Yes, yes, young lady, hold your artillery, I'll put him on."
The stairs creaked under the weight of his power armor as he went up. Then down the hall to the left to knock on the door with the Doomrider and the Emperor's Children poster. Guilliman's frown deepened. He'd have to give the boy the Drug Talk soon.
Scout's voice called out from within. "Yeah, what is it, dad?"
"Vox for you, son."
"Who is it?"
"Hm, a young lady. She says she knows you from school and needs to talk to you about the prom."
The door was opened in a flash, and the Vox snatched out of his power fist. With a muffled "Thanks, dad," the door was closed in his face.
Roboute Guilliman muttered to himself as he stumped back to his chair. The Drug Talk soon, definitely.
Scout leaned against the door. He paused for a minute to steady his breathing, then raised the Vox.
"Hey cutie, looking forward to the dance?"
His face froze as he heard the voice on the other end. "Um. Good morning, Scout. It's Macha. I...uh...thought you weren't going."
Scout flinched. "Oh, Emp, I thought you were...um, no, no, I'm definitely going. But I thought..."
She interrupted him. "But you said...wait. Ahem. Let's start this over."
"OK. Good morning, Macha."
"Very funny. Scout, you have to come to the prom. It's mandatory for student government members."
"OK, got it, Macha. I was planning on coming anyway, I...wait, what about the budget?
"I talked to Principle Tzeench about it and he said he'd take care of paying the band, so I allocated the rest of the funds to refreshments and decorations."
"That's great news! Nice work, Machs!" Scout smiled. "Kind of a corny theme, though. Grim Darkness, same as last year."
Macha sighed at him over the Vox channel. "No, Scout, last year was Dark Grimness. Do you EVER pay attention? Anyway, you'll need to be there two hours early to help with final preparations. This prom has to go just as planned."
Scout bit his lip. "Um, Macha, that's kind of a problem, I have to go pick up..."
Distant voices echoed through the Vox. "Macha, finish it up, I have to call your sister and that Mon-keigh of hers."
Macha's voice was muffled. "Daaaaad, I know you like Uncle Liivi, I wish you wouldn't talk about him like that."
Scout rolled his eyes. "Macha? You still there?"
"Yes, I'm here. I have to go now, though. My dad...I'll see you before the dance, OK? Dad, this wouldn't happen if you got me my own..." The signal cut off.
Scout stared at the Vox in his hand with some consternation. That damn Macha...a snaggle-toothed grin flashed in his mind's eye, and he smiled. Not the time to be thinking about that. Oh, Emperor, he had to rent an armortux!
"I FUCKING HATE THIS GODDAMN ARMORTUX."
Scout sprawled in his metal folding chair and gave Angry Marine a look. "Angry...you wear power armor all the time. You wore it to the beach. How is this worse?"
"Huh. Fair enough. Do you have to keep your regular helmet on, though?
"FUCK YES. FUCKING ACNE."
"Um. Yeah. Kind of a bitch, breaking out now, huh. But hey, Angry? Thanks for coming to help set up, man. You didn't have to do that."
"DON'T GET ALL FUCKING GAY ABOUT IT. YOU GET ANY FUCKING GAYER AND I'M GONNA RIP YOUR COCK OFF AND STUFF IT UP YOUR ASS, FAGGOT."
Scout smiled. "Yeah, same to you, man." He looked around the room, which was gradually filling up. They'd worked hard, and, stupid as the whole thing was, he had to admit it looked pretty good. Skulls hanging from the ceiling on metal cables. More skulls and cables on the walls. Skulls on the table. Big punch bowls made out of cable and skulls. Flustered Macha walking toward him.
"Hey Macha. Nice dress."
She blushed, took a deep breath, and nervously patted her hair. "Thank you, Scout. Yes. Um, thank you both for your hard work. Scout, I..."
A mechanical tendril tapped her on the shoulder. She spun around. "WHAT?"
The Techpriest stared at her in shock through his thick glasses, then wheezed, "Um, Macha, the band is on the Vox, they say they're lost, and I have to finish beseeching the spirits of the PA system..."
Macha took another deep breath. Scout noted that it did interesting things to the profile of her dress. She took the Vox and stomped off, inasmuch as she could stomp in her heels.
Arms wrapped around Scout's neck from behind. He instantly readied to throw his opponent across the room, then froze as he recognized the scent.
"Hwee captyoored hyooo!" She giggled in his ear, and he grinned. He shook her off, and stood up, turning to get a look at her.
"Wow, Cultist-chan...you look..." She looked like she was wearing a ripped-up black bridesmaid's dress with striped red and black stockings. And that star thing on her back. And her hair was messy and...slightly damp?
She gave him a nervous, snaggle-toothed smile. He grinned widely. "You're the best-looking girl here."
"Hyoo say seelee theengs..." She giggled.
Scout took her hands. "No, I mean it. You..."
"Do you like her hair? I did her hair!" Plaguebearer-chan came up behind her friend and patted her still-damp head.
Scout smiled nervously. The one-horned daemon was, as usual, wearing nothing and smelling awful. "Um, it looks good, Plaguebearer-chan. You really brought out her cuteness."
"Yeah, I did her hair with fluids from my... owwww, Cultist-chan, you're standing on my foot."
"Hwee are sorree. Ohh, look there!" Cultist-chan pointed excitedly to the stage, where Coach Kharn and a couple of members of the Bloodbowl team had just finished setting up amps. Noise marines in twisted pink armor tuned their bizarre sonic implements. A strange figure in power armor, his head a flaming skull, stumbled through the doors and onto the stage. He was blinking like he's just woken up, holding his skeletal nose, and making sniffing noises. He said something to the noise marines, then to Coach Kharn, who nodded and stepped up to the mike.
"Ladies and gentlemen, xenos, mutants, and heretics, let's give a big 40K High welcome to DOOMRIDER AND THE EMPEROR'S CHILDREN!"
He stepped back, clapping, as the room erupted in applause and whistling. The man with the flaming head stepped up and grabbed the mike from the stand. He looked around the room and waved in Scout's direction. Scout was confused for a moment, and looked around. Just to his left one of the Daemonettes was screaming and flashing two of her three breasts. He sighed, and looked back toward the stage.
Doomrider turned to his band, nodded, and turned back to his audience, grinning. He threw his head back, threw the horns with both hands, and screamed "WRYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!"
And the room was filled with rock.
As the music rattled the teeth in the skull decorations, the crowd in the middle of the room began to move. Cultist-chan grabbed Scout's arm and pulled him toward the dance floor, throwing a happy grin back at Plaguebearer-chan.
The room whirled around him.
He glimpsed Vice-Principal Eldrad smugly settling his earmuffs more firmly on his head.
He caught a snatch of conversation as they pushed past three girls.
"I still say the Sisters Repentia would have been better."
"Pfff, no one likes Emp rock, square. Come on, 'Nette, let's get go get heretical in front of the Orks."
The Tau kids were doing some kind of coordinated dance. He vaguely thought he recognized it from some TV show.
They were in the middle of the heaving mass.
Cultist-chan was smiling at him.
He had to dance now. He had no idea how.
She threw her arms up and began flailing and jumping spastically in time with the music.
"Emperor," He thought, his mind awash with panic. "I can't do that. I'd look ridiculous. But I can't let her do it alone. Then she looks ridiculous."
She spun around, cackling, and grabbed his hands.
"But...not as ridiculous as I look being the only one not dancing. Fuck it."
The music washed over them as they danced in the crowd, together.
The music changed from shrieking fast to slow and heavy. They passed the Wytch and Daemonette, rubbing against one another and moaning, as a crowd of Orks from Greenville High looked on, hooting and yelling for them to stop mucking about. Scout pulled Cultist-chan close, and she snuggled up to him, burying her face in his chest. Then she grinned and grabbed his butt. He gasped, she giggled. He pulled her close and kissed her.
The crowd parted. Macha was there, staring at them. There were tears in her eyes.
Scout stared at her. "Um...hey, Macha. What's wrong?"
Macha walked slowly toward them. Raising her voice over the music, she glared at Cultist-chan. "Who is this, Scout?"
"This is Cultist-chan. My girlfriend." Cultist-chan took his hand and squeezed.
Tears began rolling down her cheeks, but Macha's voice above the noise was still steady. "I...I see. I was mistaken."
"What? What's the matter, Macha, what the hell is this about?"
"I...thought you loved me. Rather, that my love for you was reciprocated. I thought the love letter you sent me..."
"I what? Macha, I never sent you any letters, the only love letter I ever wrote was when I had a crush last year on Karskin-chan."
"Whose locker was adjacent to mine. I see." Her voice cracked, a sob breaking through. "Once again your lack of attention to detail causes me trouble. You...idiot."
Plaguebearer-chan pushed through the crowd behind Scout and Cultist-chan. "Hey guys, I got punch! Whoa, what's going on here?"
"But...Empra, I'm sorry, Macha, but how could you even think...I've always teased you, I've always been such a jerk!"
Macha's painstakingly applied makeup was streaming down her face. "I thought it was your stupid way of expressing affection. I thought you joined Student Government because of me. I thought you came to prom because of me. Because you loved me. But all this time...you weren't complaining to make a stupid joke, you actually hated me for ordering you around. I'm...I'm sorry! I was mistaken!
Scout tried to take Macha's hand, but she flinched away. "Immortal God-Emperor on the Golden Throne, Macha, I'm so sorry, I'm an asshole! I've been such a huge cock!"
Plaguebearer-chan, watching in fascination, sipped her punch. The Orks, tired of watching the girls mucking about, surged forward in a mob and pulled them apart, as they shrieked happily at the attention. On stage, the coke-addled Doomrider stumbled backwards, singing at the top of his voice.
Macha's face was a picture of misery, her delicate hands balled into fists as she screamed. "I don't care! I love you anyway, I love you BECAUSE you're such a jerk! I love huge cocks!"
Doomrider fell backwards into the Noise Marines, stepping on their amp cable. The music cut off as they shoved him forward, and he careened into the crowd, mike thrust forward toward Macha. The Orks, laughing raucously, pitched the witch headlong over the crowd.
In the sudden quiet, Macha found herself screaming into a microphone. As the words "I LOVE HUGE COCKS" echoed around the room, the Wytch landed on her heavily. Macha shoved her away, but the Dark Eldar's spikes caught in her dress and ripped her top to shreds. Plaguebearer-chan did a spit-take, covering her with punch and less savory fluids. The entire room turned toward her, as she stood there half-naked, soaked, and sobbing open mouthed.
There was a flash of light from behind Scout. He turned to see Vice-Principle Eldrad fiddling with a camera.
Scout stared at him in astonishment. "You...she's your daughter. You total dick."
The Noise Marines pushed through the crowd toward the group. From his position on the floor, Doomrider tugged at the hem of Macha's ruined dress. "Hey...hey baby, we're on break. We wanna get paid now."
Macha stared down at him, sniffling. "What are you talking about?"
The singer staggered to his feet, his bandmates flanking him. "Heh...baby, the big eye dude said we'd get an Eldar as payment. That's you, yeah? Come on, baby, don't be shy."
Macha looked around wildly for an escape. Her gaze finally settled on the stage door...only to see it blocked by a swirling void, the eye of Principle Tzeench.
Eldar teenager and Chaos god stared at one another for a long moment. The great eye narrowed. Its cosmic voice sought her ears.
Macha turned, and took a deep breath. Scout had grabbed Eldrad, who was sneering at him. She slowly raised a hand and pointed at her father.
"You are mistaken, gentlemen," she said, her voice calm. "That one is your payment."
"Fuck yeah, we ain't picky." Doomrider cackled as his Noise Marines pulled the concerned-looking Eldar away from scout. "Get him in the van and break out the stuff, let's fuckin do this!"
As Eldrad was dragged shrieking out of the room, the voice of Tzeench rolled over the gathering.
"JUST. AS. PLANNED."
The room went wild with laughter and argument. Scout, stunned, found himself being dragged outside by Cultist-chan.
They lay together in the back of her uncle's truck, "borrowed" from the parking lot and driven to the top of the hill. Scout looked up at the stars, thinking.
"It was...nice, I guess, of Principle Tzeench. Helping Macha, I mean."
Cultist-chan wiggled closer to him. "She leeves een hope. Shee ees hiis."
"I guess that makes sense. For Chaos, any way." He smiled, and wrapped an arm around her.
She nibbled his ear, and whispered.
He turned toward her. "Huh? Sorry, I couldn't hear you."
Her snaggle-toothed grin shined in the starlight. "Hwee said...purge mee."
He hesitated before responding. "Cultist-chan...are you sure?"
"Hwee have been verrry wicked." She climbed on top of him. Her hair tickled his face as she looked down at him. He could feel her stroking his bolt pistol with one hand. "Hwee have consorted with thee ruinouuus poweers. Whee have made pacts with thee dark gods. Hwee have falleen to heresyy... Hwee need a beeg, strong, mehreen to geef us thee Emperor's mercyy..."
Scout Marine felt his multiple hearts quicken his pulse as she wriggled on top of him. He slid one hand up to her chest, and squeezed gently. The other, he reached down and began to hike up her dress.
He stammered, then steadied his voice. "Know...know this, heretic! Tonight the judgment of the Emperor is come upon you! You have turned from his light, and you must be purged."
The old truck rocked back and forth on its springs. The crickets went silent as the voices of the young lovers filled the air.
"Purge mee...purge meeeheehee!"
"Hyess...hyess! Ay feel thee Warp overtaking meee!"
"FOR THE EMPEROR!"