Cult: Part 2
Sister Rosen sat in the private chambers of Father Decius, a richly furnished room unbefitting of a priest. Her distaste was plain to see and the Fathers sycophantic tone was starting to annoy her.
“Could we please get to the point father?” Her tone harsher than she intended.
“Of course, of course” Such toadying was becoming tiring “The lord Thamiel would be most displeased, but I have stumbled upon something I believe to be Heresy” Father Decius’s tone becoming frantic.
“Strange cults are nothing new in cities like this but… but this is something far more sinister”
Sister Rosen’s patience had gone.
“We have already established that Father, I would not have come to this place had the Inquisitor not deemed it necessary! Unless it has escaped your attention, I am a sister of battle, a Bride of the Emperor. My life is devoted to the destruction of all things that would bring harm to the Empire” Sister Rosen stood sharply and stared down at the priest, terror filled his eyes.
“What is going on here?”
Sister Rosen stormed from the Priest’s chambers, almost ripping the door from its hinges. She stopped and glared at Thamiel.
“The weapons you carry, young noble. I trust you know how to use them?” It was not a question.
“Of course, my lady, but I have guards I could place at your disposal that would make far better companions, allow me to…”
“No, Thamiel, you shall accompany me, I would much prefer to keep you in my sights”
The sweet smell of spice filled the room, rich and musky. A haze of thick acrid smoke hung in the air from exotic incense that clouded the mind and heightened the senses.
A mass of naked writhing bodies covered the floor, their flesh bathed in sweat and other fluids. At the centre of the heaving and undulating bodies stood a single robed figure, hunched and decrepit in contrast to the young flesh that surrounded him. From beneath his dark purple hood he scanned the scene, searching.
In a flash of movement, far too fast for his crippled appearance, a hand whipped out and grasped the hair of a woman at his feet. He lifted her into the air and studied her body closely, observing how she moaned and wriggled in his grip.
The Hooded man nodded, an almost unperceivable movement, the debauched scenes moans and groans grew in there intensity, rising to a cacophony of pleasure.
As the cries reached their peak, the robed figure drew a thin silver blade across the woman’s throat.
She cried out silently, blood spraying from the wound. Even as her life flowed out, as her bladder and bowel voided, she was still caught in the rapture and ecstasy of the moment.
Her hands moved all over her body as the robed figure held her for all to see like a twisted trophy, the perverse congregation bathing in the blood and filth from her dying body.
High above the vile charnel scene sat a lone figure, wrapped in finery and riches. A fine sword cane in his jewel encrusted hand he twirled the tip of his long beard between chubby tobacco stained fingers.
“The Mother will be most proud, yes, proud indeed”
After much pleading and begging Thamiel managed to convince Sister Rosen that they should at least bring along Petrovytch, Thamiel’s personal guard.
Petrovytch had grown up in the lower levels of the hive and was a cold hearted killer, but loyal to Thamiel in all things.
The man had once been an Imperial Guard, ten years service in the Gilgamesh 23rd infantry had crafted the under hive ganger into a fighter of impressive skill.
Petrovytch was not as tall as Thamiel, but what he lacked in height he more than made up for in stature, the former guardsman was a mass of ropey muscle and thick scars. His face almost as brutish as an Ogryn, Petrovytch was a truly intimidating presence, and Thamiel was glad to have him close by.
“So, Sister Rosen, where are we going? Thamiel tried to keep his tone jovial
“We are going into the under hive, I believe you know it as the Spiral?”
The Noble stopped dead.
“Are you completely insane?” All joviality had vanished and a panicked tone was in Thamiel’s voice.
“We wouldn’t last a moment down there, we would be torn apart and eaten in seconds” Sister Rosen didn’t look in the least bit concerned.
“We would need an army to negotiate that place, I refuse to go!” Temper tantrums had always worked for Thamiel
Sister Rosen spun on her heel and glared at the young noble.
“Are you saying you, a noble and lord of this world, a man who has signed and sworn to uphold pacts with not just the Imperium, but with the God Emperor Himself do not have control of the hive to which you have been entrusted?”
“Do you dare to refuse the wishes of a Bride of The Emperor?” A bolt pistol appeared from nowhere.
“Well, what is your answer young Thamiel?”
Petrovytch grinned, it was not a pleasant sight.
“Ok, I’ll come. But why must it be me? I saw on board your ship when you arrived, you had others in your company that would be far more useful where we are going”
“Yes, They would have been but they are busy elsewhere on this Emperor forsaken world." a slight smile crossed the Sister of Battles face
"And none of them are the nephew of the man I hunt”
Part 3 coming next week!