Join Date: Oct 2010
Location: Wichita Kansas, U.S.A.
Plans must be made.
Plans must be made.
'I don’t understand why it happened, but it did.’ The old man spoke slowly, quietly as if he was speaking to himself. Old scars stretched as he spoke, swallowed and licked his cracked dry lips.
His gray eyes were alight as he recalled distant memories from forgotten times long ago, well, long ago in his mind anyway.
Behind those eyes blossomed toxic clouds and firestorms that burnt the air from planets and turned flesh to paste upon the desolate ground. The old man smiled as he saw the flesh melt from bone, as he remembered populations die by his command. It had been a long time since he had felt so alive, so free… so godlike.
‘I do not understand why I gave the command,’ he continued, ‘It was as if someone was guiding my will, like my thoughts were not my own. They were though. They were my thoughts and they were my words that spoke worlds into torment. They were my words that condemned billions of the Emperor’s sons and daughters to oblivion.’ He smiled thoughtfully as he let the confession sink in. The old man began to cough as his laughter gained its voice, ‘The funny thing is once you start the killing you don’t want to stop and as long as nobody stops you, you will do it over and over again.’
‘Bartamais, how long have you been killing?’ the Inquisitor asked. From across the interrogation room she watched the old man. His body was frail and had lost most of its muscle mass, his skin was worn like old milk-white leather, his white hair shaggy and long, sweat filled and un-kept. But his mind was yet strong and his eyes were alive with tortuous thoughts and memories.
The old man’s thoughts were like a fire to her mind; she could see them as clearly as the morning sun breaking through the iron-gray clouds after a heavy rain. The forcefulness of those thoughts would have ruined an untrained psyker, but she was not week. No, she had been trained from the tender age of six years old upon the black ships in the deadness of space.
‘I do not know why,’ the old man started, ‘I have to speak the words out loud. You can see my thoughts even as I speak them, can you not?’ he smiled again and bared his yellow stained teeth.
‘You will answer me plainly, Bartamais. How long have you been killing?’ the Inquisitor continued.
‘Well, if I must speak of my sins and confess them, I might as well enjoy the recollections, don’t you think?’ He coughed and spat up blood that flecked over his lips and down his shirt. His smile returned a moment later as he continued, ‘Since I was five years old. I was but an innocent child, untouched by the universe when I first did it. I found that I liked the feeling of control it gave me. I did it because I wondered what it was like.’ He coughed once more.
‘So why have you decided that now is the time for you to come here and confess to me the things you have done? Chances are that we would not have found you. You have hidden your thoughts and actions from us these many years without risk of discovery.’ the Inquisitor questioned.
‘Why indeed?’ the old man closed his eyes for a moment and seemed to have fallen into a heavy sleep.
‘Bartamais?’ she prompted.
‘Why indeed? Why would I risk it all to expose myself? Maybe I needed to feel alive again. Maybe I needed to sort some things out; before I fall asleep. Whatever the reasons, I am here and things are as they are.’ The old man bowed his head and started to cry.
His shoulders heaved up and down as he wept.
‘Why do you weep, Bartamais?’ the Inquisitor asked.
The old man did not answer, so she opened his thoughts with her will and began to read him. His mind was like a mass of fangs, needle like and terrible to behold. His will was stronger than she suspected, but she was stronger than he was, she was not worried about any reprisals from the old man’s mind.
She could see the torments of a wounded soul and hear the cries of his inner man… almost like a child in its innocence. Strange shadows pressed against the walls of his psyche and sought to fallow her as she moved deeper into his will.
‘Why do you choose to expose yourself now after all of these years, after all the things you have done?’ she whispered into the confines of his brain.
Fire and blood, blood and fire and laughter and weeping all seemed to impose their attributes upon her mind as she ventured further into the old man’s understanding. The shadows began to form a cage around her will and bar her exit. She began to fight and he let her. He let her fight. He let her send forth her mental spears and absorbed her swords of psychic energy.
The weeping of the old man turned to laughter as she began to panic. She tried to run and he let the shadow cage open for a split second. ‘Run.’ he said. She did run but the harder she ran the more he laughed. The maze of his mind lengthened and strengthened the more she tried to flee the confines of his will.
She knew she was no longer in charge. The old man had lured her into his world, now she could not escape from it.
‘There is a reason that I have lived for so long undetected.’ The old man chuckled.
The Inquisitor screamed as he closed the walls of the maze in his mind. A moment later the old man fell to the floor, dead and cold to the touch.
The Inquisitor opened her eyes and slowly turned her head from side to side. She took in the confines of the interrogation room and smiled as she looked down upon the corpse of the old man. She stretched and stood up on shaky legs. Holding the side of the table she began to walk on weakened legs. It took a few moments before her strength returned to her. She smiled and chuckled as she opened the door to the interrogation room and stepped out into the hall.
‘The old man is dead. Attend to the body.’ she said. The guards did as they were told without question.
The Inquisitorial halls were built of marble and blackened ancient wood. Murals adorned the walls and ceilings depicting the greatness of the Inquisition and the glories of the Emperor. Ten thousand people moved about attending to their duties unaware that Chaos was amongst them.
The old man smiled as he looked through new eyes, moved through new skin and planned the end of another world.
A good reputation take a long time to build, but only a moment to destroy. Wow, that's deep!
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Other stories from Adrian.
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