Rime of the Twisted
Rime of the Twisted
Inquisitor Yarebak moved through the halls of the great Basilica where statues of heroes stood in pink marble cast what were supposed to be unflinching gazes. But somehow, today the watchful heroic statues did nothing to dispel the single minded torment that he held check within his breast. Men who had known him and had fought with him for decades could feel the tension, dared not meet his eyes. As he moved into the lower blocks where the cells of interrogation were held he felt the cold seeping deeply into his bones. It was not the cold of ice or fear, no, this was something worse. Psyker! Yarebak could feel the man waiting in the room ten meters beyond.
Having been trained and fully vetted, protected by Psy dampeners and restraints held fast to the man in the room the Inquisitor opened the door and with exaggerated confidence entered. The person before him was not what he had expected to find. The man was older upon first glance, but in the shifting light of the lanterns he was young and then a woman with long black hair. An old woman gnarled and tired with rotten skin and mangled scars. Even with all of the restraints, the person held fast in the room knew that he was not trapped with them; they were trapped in here with him. He smiled in all his guises. In a multitude of voices he spoke, “I am pleased to meet with you Inquisitor Micheal Yarebak.”
Yarebak’s first name was known only by one or two men and one woman within five warp years of the Basilica. Amazed at the obvious power of the Psyker , he said, “You have allowed yourself to be captured. You have allowed yourself to be restrained. Even now you could snuff out our life forces with a single command of your power. Why do you not?”
The form in the chair shifted to his true form, a young boy, maybe seventeen. I am sent to you to tell a story. My name is unimportant but you will know it in time.” He extended his hand, “Please sit Micheal.” Yarebak sat. The room changed and he did not fight the boy. He allowed the story to be told. He had asked for this. He knew the boy could kill him and all upon this world if he wanted to. No restraints were strong enough to hold the boy.
“I will tell you now what happened to me and you will see. You will watch as millions attempt to flee.” The boy’s eyes grew icy and cold as he spoke. In days of darkness past there was peace that did not last. My world smiled in the night and danced in the fires light. But things were coming and things did come killing most but leaving some. As young as I was I knew fear that day as mother and father both entered the fray. With guns and knives they fought but fell with screams and grunts. I was pulled from the closet where I hid and cast upon the wall. In the blood of my family I did fall. Crippling claustrophobic fear encircled my heart as my assailants whispered in the dark.”
Inquisitor Yarebak fell from his chair but did not know it. He could see as if he were there, the faces of the night, the terror of the eyes that seemed to peer into his very soul.
“In terror I screamed with all my Psychic force. Walls shattered and bodied scattered and along the walls dark blood splattered. The shadows before me still remained untouched by my distain and terror. In the distance, from what felt like blocks away people were in full repentance, screaming and weeping fleeing the shadows creeping. “With tears running down his face, Inquisitor Yarebak asked, “Why are you still alive?”
“In the night the shadows flew and carried me afar through caverns few. I heard screaming and torment in the darkness’s caress. I was cast into a pit filled with blood and worms. My feet touched bottom as I felt the worms begin to squirm. The stink of it, of the blood and shit; of the fear as the shadows grew near. Oh the tightness within my chest! Oh the fear within my mind! Only claustrophobic torment echoing from the walls I could find.” The room they set in was completely gone. Yarebak was in the pit. He could feel the blood and the worms and the close heartache of the claustrophobic walls he was surrounded by. In terror he began to lose all reason. He began to fade into the reality the boy was making for him. With an effort of will he tried to pull himself from his despair, “You have not answered my question!” he screamed into the darkness. “Why are you still alive?”
“They came for me sometime around morning and I saw their warning in my mind. I saw the blood upon their faces as I stared into their soulless gazes.” They spoke to me then, “We will keep you for you are strong.”
“I fell back into the pit and in the pit I stayed. I fed on blood and worms. I fed on legs and arms. I learned to love the taste and felt no more disgrace. The years did pass and travel, we have. The reason I am here is to tell this miserable world… “
Yarebak screamed in terror at the images cast into his mind. He could hear the screams of millions upon the world he now stood upon. Somehow he knew he was no longer seeing the darkness of past events from a distant world. He knew without a shadow of a doubt the answer to his question and with soul crushing force he wept. Out in the halls of the basilica and into the streets, into every home and temple; into every workplace and hiding place the vampiric shadows came. The boy let his restraints fall away from his arms as he knelt before the prone Inquisitor. “I am alive so I can show you and those like you in the most exquisite detail the power of the soul crushing claustrophobic will of the shadows. “
The boy smiled. His teeth were fangs. Before Inquisitor Micheal Yarebak could recover from the force of the fear that had crushed him to the floor, the boy tore into his throat. The boy pulled away and asked Yarebak, “Do you want to live forever?”
1095 words.
