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I wrote this about a year and a half ago. It draws heavily from another IP but it was really just the spark of inspiration I needed at the time for the series I was doing. See if you can discover where it came from, enjoy it, and let me know what you think. I have plenty more original pieces.

Isaias I.

Isaias looked at the broken man under his shoe, a fine trickle of blood was all that remained of the torrent that been springing from the rapists neck only moments ago. He savored this moment of macabre justice, for he well knew that like last time, this sweet tang of bloodlust filling his vein’s would dissipate and force him into a withdrawal as it had countless times before. He must find new victims, his cravings subjugated it to their whims, and he knew full well that he was a helpless pawn in their ocean of desire. He no longer even attempted to resist the urge to destroy life as though it was an object of disgust. Yet every time Isaias slaughtered the worthless scum the Arbites and Zealots were too busy to hunt for themselves, he felt power bordering upon the supernatural, as though he could take a walk in the warp itself and have its denizens bow before him. Luckily, underneath the burning forges of Imperata, there was no end to the scum of the universe, and with it hardly a pause before he could savor the killing blow once more.

Wiping his gleaming silver blade clean of filth, Isaias moved again into the shadows, disappearing from the site of his momentary euphoria illuminated by the burning orange light of the lower forges peculating in glowing rays through the miles of infrastructure that supported their heavy loads. He did not even give a second thought towards the scum as the ravenous giant mutant ratfiends of the understory drew near to the recently deceased. He moved quickly, careful not to expose himself to the hellish glow as he drew near to his carefully chosen observatory. It overlooked a sweeping bazaar that sold no sustenance. He watched as begging children were left to starve in the dark corners as the decadent royalties swept pass them too busy eying spoiled passion fruits of the night, personal poisons to drown themselves into a coma, and worst of all, numerous slaves to add to their already lavish display of human subjugation they caravanned behind them. There truly was no end to the sin of man in this sinister hell, and justly no end to Isaias’s own dark hunger as he scanned the throngs of revelers from the shadows. Preparing himself he fidgeted nervously as he fingered his long blades, hidden under his satin sleeves. He readied his armaments one last time and after scanning his numerous targets once more stepped effortlessly from the shadows and blended into the crowed. His eyes remained fixed in concentration as his photographic memory showed his targets vividly in his mind’s eye. Drawing near to a fat pompous Lord who was adorned in what could only be accurately described as a Tallaran rug, he clenched his fist and flexed his wrist downward, feeling the autosensors of his sheathed blade trigger and extend its cold metal out of his sleeve. Delicately he approached the whale of a man, whilst savoring the moment, elegantly slashed his throat before strolling away through the crowd, who were all too busy in their own interests to notice. Isaias could feel the man’s life drawn away as he heard the muffled garble as he realized far too late that his time had come.

Unto thee my Emperor I send a wayward servant who only now truly sees your light.

The prayer was automatic as Isaias moved earnestly to his next target; time was short and steadily marching. It was an elderly woman, buying her four hundredth slave. He had counted since her arrival at this particular bazaar, and it seemed that no amount of indentured labor would fill her endless wanton needs or greed. Isaias drew close behind, as though about to whisper in her ear like her servant had moments ago, flexed both wrists and thrust both blades into the back of her neck. They severed the ancient bone and frail nerves as easily as packaging papyrus. Before she could utter a single guttural sound as her head soon separated itself from her quickly sagging body, Isaias was gone once more. Having said his silent prayer he was already darting in-between a merchant lord and a rogue trader from the Sargos Sector. The men were eying the spoils of a naked woman shackled to the wall behind her. With an electric taser in hand her master forced her to dance in an overly erotic way before the hungry eyed men who were bidding for her company. With a scream from behind as the first victim was discovered the men whirled upon the spot, to find a silver blade driven into their jaws, through their nasal cavities and into their sickly twisted brains. Isaias threw them to the ground and moved to the merchant selling the tear soaked woman, who after dodging the pitiful attempts to attack him with prod, was beheaded with a gout of spraying crimson in a clean crescent sweep of both blades. The woman looked imploringly to Isaias to free her. Drawing a rapier from his side, he cleaved a shackle in two holding her wrists together before stealing a glace behind him to find the entire bazaar staring dumbly back.

Time to go.

Leaving the still chained woman behind him who began to scream desperately for her release, Isaias fled for his life as the angry mob descended upon him, dodging his assailants, left and right cutting and slashing in arterial sprays through the throngs of panic. Isaias sheathed his rapier and once again extended his twin blades. He leapt upon a merchants table stabbing furiously into the wide eyes of the obsurca dealer. Gunshots rang out as more forward assailants drew their beads upon Isaias fleeting form. He ducked under an overhanging pipe works before hoisting himself hand over hand behind its thick metal. More shots rang out peppering the duct with loud echoing clangs and shearing its formidable hinges from their holders. Then, from the arms dealer across the way came the unmistakable drone of a heavy bolter being primed. Isaias redoubled his effort sensing the apex of his climb drawing nearer, but he heard the bark of bolter as it began to spew its fist sized mini rockets in a torrential rain just above him. Huge gouts of rockcrete and shards of metal were blasted apart in a hailstorm of wanton abandon as the trigger happy merchant unloaded his entire stock of bolter rounds at Isaias. Hearing the pipe strain as it began to give way to the merciless beating of the bolter Isaias began to fear it would not hold as he scrambled up the last meter of smoldering iron.

From just above him came a muffled shout,

“Duck!”

Without thinking Isaias did. With a tiny ping, the bolter’s roaring fire ceased immediately and Isaias looked up only to see a darkly armored leather glove reaching towards him. It did not wait for him to take it, instead grasping his shoulder it dragged him roughly deep into the blackness of the exposed pipe system. Eight pairs of glowing red augmented eyes stared down at him from the darkness.

“Put on quite the show, didn’t he lads?” came the voice attached to the hand, it was being filtered through some sort of artificial voicebox that made it sound tinny.

“Sure did, how bout we show him a thing or two?” came another beside the first.

“Think the Lieutenant will approve?” came yet another.

“Course, they all approve of just about anything these days.” Came the first once again.

Isaias was not about to be toyed with, his blades at the ready he lashed out at the darkness striking something hard, and shattering helplessly in a tinkle like the breaking of glass. Stunned by the unfathomable toughness of the armor he had just struck, he didn’t even resist as an ironclad greave was pressed into his chest.

“Bag him boys, he’s getting restless in this dark, I think he hit me with something.” Came the first speaker’s voice again.

In a moment a cloth sack was stuffed over his head as he was roughly turned over and wirebinded at his wrists and ankles. He was hoisted up as easily as one of the starving children below, and carried quickly through the darkness. For the second time in his entire life, Isaias felt truly helpless, and swore vehemently to himself that he would never let it happen again.