Secret Inquisitorial Eldar Xenexecutor
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"Tell me what you see" muttered the Haemonculus.
The room was awful. It stank of clinical death. Of experiments, and too many chemicals used on too many poor unfortunates that were in
the wrong place at the wrong time, or not wise enough to put a las round through their own skulls when the Dark Eldar burst through the cloud on Jogvan IV.
It smelt of diminished hope and the extraction of souls.
"W-what?" stammered the Guardsman, though man was hardly fitting. He'd barely cleared 20 terran years.
"Tell me what you see, Mon-Keigh, a simple request, no?" The Haemonculus gestured to a servant in front of the Guardsman that held a cube in his hand, it
wasn't overly large, about the same size as lasgun battery pack.
"I... I don't understand, I don't see anything"
"Look.... closer..."
He stared at the box, a plain item made of an unfamiliar black metal that seemed to suck light in towards it. Was it pulsing? It was hard to tell... it
made his head hurt to focus on it for long, but he couldn't look away.
"I see pain. I see my pain" whispered the Guardsman in broken tones.
"What else?"
"I see... I don't want to... I see my pain. The more I look the more it hurts, I see my pain reflected back at me".
The box had started to spin in the Wracks hand, slowly at first but gathering speed. It started to change shape, making the screeching sounds of lost souls.
"No more, please..." tears rolled down his cheek, only to be scooped up by a waiting attendant and dropped in a pool of luminous green fluid that glooped in
a well along part of the circular rooms wall.
"You must look. Salvation depends on it" croaked the Pain Master, talking through the parched lips of a dry throat. A tube of glowing green fluid, mixed
with the tears of the prisoners of the Jogvan Guard, was delivered to the Haemonculus and plugged in to a waiting hole in his back. He sighed with
satisfaction.
The Guardsmans tears were flowing in full now, his eyes being drawn out of his head as he stared at the spinning box.
"How are our guests, Pain Master?"
"My lord" croaked the Haemonculus. The Kabals Archon, Ardath Dei, strode slowly into the chamber from a portal set deep in a wall cavity. "They have been
most amusing my lord, this one was particularly easy to break, and all the more enjoyable for it"
"Really. Tell me Mon-Keigh, what are you feeling now?" addressed the Archon.
The Guardsman looked across slowly, with the pain thumping between his eyes. He traced the armour lines of this new comer, encased in purple marble and edged in
gold. The helmet seemed to be made of a similar material to the box as it had the same effect. He flinched as he tried to make eye contact as his Sergeant
had taught him. "Always look your enemy in the eye". The old bastard.
"I feel... nothing. I feel... empty..."
"What if I were to give you a chance of freedom? Would you like a weapon?"
A small spark of hope flared in the Guardsmans heart at the thought. It must have shown in his eyes as the Archon produced a las pistol, and threw it to
within inches of the Guardsmans bound hands.
"Pain Master. Untie him."
The Haemonculus gestured from his throne, hovering at head height. One of the attendant Wracks cut the Guardsmans bonds, who immediately dropped to the
floor. The Wrack moved to stand behind him.
"Why? Why would you give me the means to kill you?" asked the Guardsman
Ardath and the Pain Master exchanged a gleeful chuckle, before turning back to face the Guardsman.
"What is your name, Mon-Keigh?" asked Ardath Dei.
"My... name... is Garnett. Spes Garnett. Kinsman of the Jogvan Guard". Feeling was returning now, strength was ebbing back in to his arms. He kneeled
on the floor, crouching in front of the pistol with his head bowed, tracing the lines of the weapon with his eyes. Loaded, safety off, seemingly in good
condition. He was out numbered, but the Pain Master and his attendant didn't look to be fast. It was the armoured one that would be the threat, though he
didn't seem to be armed.
"My name is Spes Garnett. I am a Kinsman of the Jogvan Guard. I am might. I am power. I am strength and with me is the light of the God Emperor of Mankind. I am
Spes Garnett and I. Will. KILL. YOU". In a cavalcade of rage, Spes snatched up the pistol and shot 3 short bursts at the Pain Master, each hitting him
square in the chest, burning his already paper dry flesh through to his stick like spine and punching holes in the soft cushions of the hover-throne. Spes ducked and rolled, coming to a hault by what seemed like an operating table and drew a bead on the attendant Wrack, blasting a hole in its shoulder.
Suddenly Spes left the ground, hoisted up by the back of his neck and was thrown back at the wall that he'd only recently been bonded to. Ardath Dei jumped
down from the operating table and pounced across the room like a purple and gold tiger, snatching Spes up again by the throat and pinning him in place.
"Very good Mon-Keigh, let me feel your rage, do not give out to fear, you can kill me if you really want to, you know this to be true".
Spes's eyes rolled in his sockets, searching for a way out of the grip. He began to kick the Dark Eldar, hitting him in the side of the torso with each hit,
though he was getting weaker, but he wouldn't give up hope. He could beat this xeno filth, he's a Kinsman for the greatest mortal army known to man!
He stopped scrabbling at the Archons grip and snatched a knife out of a scabbard at the Archons hip, and thrust it in to his assailants shoulder, all the way down to the hilt.
The grip loosened.
"That's it Mon-Keigh, you're almost free" grunted Ardath
"I AM SPES GARNETT" he roared in reply, inches from the Archons masked features.
"AND YOUR SOUL IS MINE, KINGSMAN OF THE JOGVAN GUARD!" Quicker than a bolt of lightning, Ardath dropped the Guardsman to the ground and pulled the knife
from his shoulder, thrusting it into Spes' heart. He snatched up the black cube from the dying Wracks hand and pushed it close to the Guardsmans eyes.
It was impossible for Spes to avoid looking at it, and at this distance its horrifying effect was unavoidable. The soul trap clicked open in the same
instant that Spes gave up hope. There was blood pouring from his ragged chest, though the worst feeling that Spes had was that of his soul being drawn out
of his eyes, and deep in to the cube held in the Archons fist. With a bang like a cannon shot, Spes's lifeless body dropped to the ground, his soul saved as
a new play thing for later.
Ardath withdrew slowly and looked around the room. He approached the Wrack that was bleeding out on the theatre floor. So that's where the Sergeant went.
With a whisper and the pad of bare feet, more Wracks entered the room and gathered vials of the green tear fluid, and carried it over to the dried out husk of the Pain Masters body.
Within moments, the Haemonculus sat on his hovering throne, with his Wracks nearby, waiting on instructions.
"Another excellent candidate, I feel my lord," croacked the Pain Master.
"Most certainly, I'll take much enjoyment from this one. Make an initiate of him won't you."
"Yes, my lord". The Haemonculus gestured to the nearby Wracks who scooped up the limp body of former Kinsman of the Jogvan Guard, Spes Garnett and placed
him ceremoniously on the operating table. "We'll make something of him yet"...
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