Post by Kel'sab Melnath on Jan 12, 2024 2:35:52 GMT
A boot stomps into a puddle of stagnant runoff. Hurried, desperate wheezes form a chaotic backing to the steady rhythm of a a lowly criminal's desperate flight.
A screech, a flash, a face in the blackness of a dead hallway; concealed save for its eyes sparking with uneven witch lights.
If he can make it to the stash then he's safe. A Guard issue autocannon, fully loaded, ready for a demo for some "big cheeses" tomorrow. A sprint, a quick aim, a squeeze of the trigger and this nightmare is over.
He can see his breath. Snakes of rime crackle their way across the walls and floor; life its self is dying in the passage behind him, leaving nothing but the frozen void of endless oblivion.
A flash, screams, pain, bodies scattered around the hall and an ankle deep ocean of blood. Another heartbeat, its all gone. The veil is shearing in half; are the piles of corpses the illusion, or were they there all along, the nightmare hidden from his eyes by nefarious warp craft? He can't afford to think about what's real: At best, he's going to die. If he pushes hard enough maybe, just maybe, he can find salvation.
*SLAM* door is smashed closed and with a screaming, terrified grunt it's followed by a *CLANG*. The door is barred. Where is he? What is this? Windows, color, light, statues. A chapel? A chapel! May the Emperor save him. Cracked stained glass windows to either side of the door, a long ago desecrated statue still bearing His visage. Now where to go? Maybe there's a door, if he can just get his bearings, maybe he can-
*SLAM* door is smashed closed and with a screaming, terrified grunt it's followed by a *CLANG*. The door is barred. Where is he? What is this? Windows, color, light, statues. A chapel? A chapel! May the Emperor save him. Cracked stained glass windows to either side of the door, a long ago desecrated statue still bearing His visage. Now where to go? Maybe there's a door, if he can just get his bearings, maybe he can-
A bang, a light. The door shakes. A crackle of pink-purple light shears the door-bar in half like a melta-torch. For a moment there is quiet. Why isn't he relieved?
The doors are flung open and an accursed figure fills the criminal's eyes and mind. A mockery of human flesh, twisted like a painting splashed with turpentine. The stained glass shatters; depictions of the holy God-Emperor screaming as they break. The falling glass catches the light for just a moment, a single frame; glinting wings of multi-colored debris seem to sprout from the monster's back as if it were the mockery of a holy saint.
There is nowhere to run.
A wet, phlegmy inhale is a prelude to mad zealotry: "YOU DARE!" shouts Kel'sab. Levitated for a single instant before the fickle whims of the Warp make him splat onto the floor. Coughing, retching, a snort and a spit. "You... you HERETIC! You believe you can flee? You believe there is a darkness that will hide you from HIS LIGHT!" A hand is thrust towards the lowly criminal.
*THWP* a crude autopistol drawn. *BAM, BAM, BAM* three frenetic shots. Two whizz past the ears of the monster, but a third strikes it firm in the chest. It doesn't stop?! Blood oozing from the mutant's chest, it just keeps coming.
"You. Will. Show. Him. EVERYTHING!" Kel'sab's shriek carries past mere sound. The world shakes, the veil trembles and fractures. First the air blasts out from between the mutant and the criminal, before it turns to blood. A tidal wave of otherworldly blood splatters the wall to the left and right. Wide eyed, the criminal doesn't know what to do! Not that it would matter, he doesn't have any time left.
A gnarled hand snaps onto the side of his face, digging its jagged nails into his scalp and ripping away bits and pieces of hair and skin. "YOU WILL BEAR YOUR SOUL TO HIM!"
The world is gone, there is nothing except what's inside. Joy, childhood, love; the first barriers to shield a soul from hardship. Pulped liked the front line before an opening fire. Kel'sab's Mind Probe digs into the victim's thoughts not like the precise scalpel of the Sanctioned, but like the feral, bloodthirsty claws of a predator digging to its prey's heart.
Defiance, self, the rules of Regicide. Screaming, tearing, a momentary awareness of the world. Spectral figures emerge from the edges of the criminal's vision. Everyone he has ever known, ever loved, and ever killed, crawling and begging him not to give in. They shatter like the windows of the chapel.
"DO NOT RESIST! GIVE YOURSELF TO HIS EYES! ONLY... Only through his judgement.. can you be ABSOLVED!" There is a loud metallic sound. The mutant let go of its staff. This is the criminal's moment! Every ounce of resistance he had left is brought to bear. A twitching hand feels and fumbles; it finds a grip. In two breaths, the criminal draws Kel'sab's own laspistol from his belt, presses it under the mutant's ribcage, and pulls the trigger. *CRACK* the laspistol discharges and an angry red beam erupts from Kel'sab's spine. He does not stop.
The criminal's hand spasms, the pistol drops. Fingers shake and shudder as the criminal tries to hold them back. He fails. Pure spite and reactionary hatred fills his nerves and muscles. Joints shred, bones splinter and every finger bends as far back as protesting muscles allow
Every blasphemy, every quiet thought, every private ambition and momentary heresy is laid bare. What's left of him? Everything is burned, only the sins remain. The brutal burning light coming from the mutant is destroying everything except the worst of him. The absolute depth of blackness in his heart is all that is left to see and Kel'sab Melnath devours each and every sin like a fine cut of steak.
Eyes rolled back, blood leaking from his nose.
Deeper, peeling away the flak and the resistance.
The criminal's teeth clench so hard that there's a quiet *SNAP* and a fragment of tooth fires out across the room.
"MORE, MORE! YOU WOULD DARE TO OPPOSE HIM!?"
The last bastion falls. There is nothing left inside of the criminal. A husk falls to the floor; blood leaking from ears and nose, drool pooling in the corner of his mouth. In time, he will recover. Hours pass, maybe days? Shattered bone and burned flesh will mend. Identity will stitch its self back together. Even so, he will never be the same.
Kel'sab hangs limp, eyes drifting up toward the ceiling but looking at nothing in particular. The mind of another is not fast to process; what has he ripped out of the criminal's brain, and who finds him as he ponders it?
A wet, phlegmy inhale is a prelude to mad zealotry: "YOU DARE!" shouts Kel'sab. Levitated for a single instant before the fickle whims of the Warp make him splat onto the floor. Coughing, retching, a snort and a spit. "You... you HERETIC! You believe you can flee? You believe there is a darkness that will hide you from HIS LIGHT!" A hand is thrust towards the lowly criminal.
*THWP* a crude autopistol drawn. *BAM, BAM, BAM* three frenetic shots. Two whizz past the ears of the monster, but a third strikes it firm in the chest. It doesn't stop?! Blood oozing from the mutant's chest, it just keeps coming.
"You. Will. Show. Him. EVERYTHING!" Kel'sab's shriek carries past mere sound. The world shakes, the veil trembles and fractures. First the air blasts out from between the mutant and the criminal, before it turns to blood. A tidal wave of otherworldly blood splatters the wall to the left and right. Wide eyed, the criminal doesn't know what to do! Not that it would matter, he doesn't have any time left.
A gnarled hand snaps onto the side of his face, digging its jagged nails into his scalp and ripping away bits and pieces of hair and skin. "YOU WILL BEAR YOUR SOUL TO HIM!"
The world is gone, there is nothing except what's inside. Joy, childhood, love; the first barriers to shield a soul from hardship. Pulped liked the front line before an opening fire. Kel'sab's Mind Probe digs into the victim's thoughts not like the precise scalpel of the Sanctioned, but like the feral, bloodthirsty claws of a predator digging to its prey's heart.
Defiance, self, the rules of Regicide. Screaming, tearing, a momentary awareness of the world. Spectral figures emerge from the edges of the criminal's vision. Everyone he has ever known, ever loved, and ever killed, crawling and begging him not to give in. They shatter like the windows of the chapel.
"DO NOT RESIST! GIVE YOURSELF TO HIS EYES! ONLY... Only through his judgement.. can you be ABSOLVED!" There is a loud metallic sound. The mutant let go of its staff. This is the criminal's moment! Every ounce of resistance he had left is brought to bear. A twitching hand feels and fumbles; it finds a grip. In two breaths, the criminal draws Kel'sab's own laspistol from his belt, presses it under the mutant's ribcage, and pulls the trigger. *CRACK* the laspistol discharges and an angry red beam erupts from Kel'sab's spine. He does not stop.
The criminal's hand spasms, the pistol drops. Fingers shake and shudder as the criminal tries to hold them back. He fails. Pure spite and reactionary hatred fills his nerves and muscles. Joints shred, bones splinter and every finger bends as far back as protesting muscles allow
Every blasphemy, every quiet thought, every private ambition and momentary heresy is laid bare. What's left of him? Everything is burned, only the sins remain. The brutal burning light coming from the mutant is destroying everything except the worst of him. The absolute depth of blackness in his heart is all that is left to see and Kel'sab Melnath devours each and every sin like a fine cut of steak.
Eyes rolled back, blood leaking from his nose.
Deeper, peeling away the flak and the resistance.
The criminal's teeth clench so hard that there's a quiet *SNAP* and a fragment of tooth fires out across the room.
"MORE, MORE! YOU WOULD DARE TO OPPOSE HIM!?"
The last bastion falls. There is nothing left inside of the criminal. A husk falls to the floor; blood leaking from ears and nose, drool pooling in the corner of his mouth. In time, he will recover. Hours pass, maybe days? Shattered bone and burned flesh will mend. Identity will stitch its self back together. Even so, he will never be the same.
Kel'sab hangs limp, eyes drifting up toward the ceiling but looking at nothing in particular. The mind of another is not fast to process; what has he ripped out of the criminal's brain, and who finds him as he ponders it?