The Pluvian Box…
"I carry with me an Inquisitorial Seal. It is a small, unassuming object contained in a neat box of Pluvian obsidian. It is a modest thing, relatively plain, adorned with a single motif and a simple motto. Yet with this little object I can sign the death warrant of an Entire world and consign a billion souls to Oblivion…"
-A common Inquisitorial saying…
The Interrogator walked into the dank cell flanked by two kill squad stormtroopers, their hellguns at rest pointed not quite in the way of the cells occupant, but wary of any violent movement. The Interrogator sneered at the foul blood soaked wench chained to the stone wall, giggling and whispering prayers most unholy too his ears.
The Interrogator stood at an impressive height and moderate build among common men, a head of closely shaven head of hair in a dark brown while piercing eyes of honey scowled in hatred, his white skin seemed significantly pale to the bronzed young lady in front of him.
Or it might have been the blood had soaked into her skin over the years… honestly that's probably what it was.
As the three stood in the middle of the the bloody young lady raised her head, face contorted into a snarl which cracked some of the scabs on her filthy cheeks causing a few streams of dark red to spill.
The Interrogator squatted in from of her and spat in her face "Good day young lady, sleep well?"
With a sudden movement she leapt at him with surprising speed, falling short a few millimetres, he had done this for about two months now, knowing this filth wanted to spill the blood of others for her heathen god he decided the best way to torture her was to not so at all in the conventional sense, instead deprive the blood soaked whore of her passion. And every time she would scream the same thing at him.
"I WILL TEAR OFF YOUR HEAD AND RAPE THE STUMP THAT IS YOUR NECK!"
He snorted in amusement at the thought, as he always did, funny these heretics.
"Now getting down to business tell us where the rest of your filth are and I shall grant you a blood soaked and honourable death."
She quickly swished a mouthful of spittle around and was about to launch it at his face before he harshly slapped her, sending it over his right shoulder and onto the foot of one of the kill squad troopers, he groaned as he realized what got on his boot while the other laughed, albeit quietly.
He hooked his left fist into the womans face, a little too hard this time as she laughed in mock at the blood dripping from her nose.
"So nothing to say heretic? No insults or threats of rape against us?"
As he was about to get up she whispered something, he froze and looked back at her and asked cruely.
"What was that little dear?"
"I said Khorne will revile in splendour when I break your body loyalist, I swear it for my name is Mayhem! I…I…" realizing in her outburst she had revealed more than she wanted the heretical prisoner quietened down. The Interrogator grinned a terrifying grin that only excited the servant of the blood god, He crouched back down and really got in her face, so close she could probably have torn off his lower lip with her mouth if she wanted too.
"Well at least we are getting somewhere. Mayhem, I am Interrogator Colonel Corrvin Drescht of the Fallexius Planetary Defence Force, third in command and head of the Investigator force. I will find your heretical whore sisters, and I will have them killed… We have an Inquisitor on the way"
Mayhem's eyes widened, an Inquisitor was by no means someone to underestimate, seeing this sudden concern for her safety and that of her sisters Corrvin went on.
"I hear men and women who are Inquisitors are ruthless, far more so than I am. I'll make sure to save you for last my dear Mayhem, hopefully I can show him a thing or two… hehe, ahahah!"
With this he turned and walked out, the Kill squad troops following closely and silently closing the door behind them.
Mayhem had to escape, warn her sisters of the coming threat, they might not be able to claim all the skulls of these lackeys after all.
… Orbit of Fallexius Prime, classification: Temperate World, local time, 12:10am planetary average day: 25 Terran hours, ten days later…..
The inquisitorial Blackship hung in low orbit, its colossal and pitch black hull illuminated only enough to deter ships from crashing into it as if it were not there, which happens every so often. Inquisitor Cerobius Kyrinov looked down on the world of Fallexius from its northern pole, having grown up on an Ice world for about a good twenty years of his life before coming into service for the Emperors Inquisition, one would think about fourty three years after leaving one would get much more used to warmer climate.
Oh boy was that wrong.
Turning away from the window of the briefing room he looked to his Stormtrooper detachment commander, Anton Vilisho, aged at thirty four he was shorter than most men but made up for it with an attitude filled with grit and a personality embodying strength which his physical form showed to be at peak, his face was graced with a months of unshaven chin fluff and an aging series of lines starting to appear across his battle hardened features, having not taken the age reducing drugs Cerobius offered all his soldiers and followers due to the want of "looking like a wrinkly old badarse like my grandfather" or something along those lines.
Vilisho nodded at his lordships acknowledgement of him and spoke softly in his thick accent reminiscent of Valhallan natives.
"My Lord, the landers are prepared, we are ready to drop whenever you will it, all one hundred and twenty personnel and staff are kitted and carrying their fair share of equipment."
With a slight smile Cerobius nodded and made for the door and from there too the ancient hanger, the Stormtrooper commander closely behind.
-+In his name, cleanse the heretic+-
…twenty minutes later, Government sectors private shuttleport…
Colonel Corrvin waited at attention alongside the Governor and his welcoming party, all finely dressed in their most resplended and posh outfits , ranging from well-dressed to completely eccentric.
Corrvin and his men of the PDF didn't bother with such over the top outfits, instead opting for their dress uniforms that fitted snugly yet loose enough to allow the body access to the cool breeze that afternoon.
Looking around the expansive section of space given over to the purpose of holding visiting shuttle craft he noticed the entire expanse of raised platforms and catwalks, tunnels and maintenance hangers remained empty, the Adepts and Techpriests from Mars not in sight, nor were the dockhands either.
Slightly unnerved by the loneliness of the group he stretched some stiff muscles in his back and waited for the arriving landers, which soon enough came into sight, looking up into the clouds he could spot thirty two of such craft ten of them being standard Aquilla landers while the rest were heavier landers of unknown design to him, all glided down to the pads slowly in some form of organization, all landers bore a strange looking I on them, stylized and motto'd to fit snuggly on such craft.
What Corrvin thought was what he would later find out to be true, that the I was a symbol of office for an Inquisitor, each had his or her own slightly customized sigil upon their own person but used the standard issue for vehicles and heavy craft.
As the various shuttles landed Corrvin sucked in a gout of air when the ramp of the Aquilla dropped to the floor on its hydraulics with a slight thunk, and that's when he appeared.
Wearing a larger than normal great coat of a dark grey and leather interior and standing slightly shorter than himself, what little of the man's face he could see under the wide brimmed hat was a slightly colour white skin tone and cleanly shaven and mid-sized lips set in a neutral unemotive stance. Below the coat was a suit of armour, Corrvin reconized it as Carapace, highly modified Carapace no less, and the knee high Carapace boots were probably not standard issue either…
The Inquistor also had a fair number of odd looking people together following close behind, but as he was about examine them in detail the Inquisitor stopped infront of the Governor, The two stood at roughly equal height and both had a posture that would be the envy of any common man.
"Greetings Inquisitor, I am Governor Joachim Kest, it is an honour to meet one such as yourself."
The Inquisitor raised a hand in greeting "I thank you in the name of the Emperor, but I would much like to get down to business as they say, for I hear you have heretics above the norm out here. I have been tasked with hunting these renegade heathens down and cleansing this subsector. Now I suspect you have a dinner planned for tonight is that correct?"
Joachim smirked as he nodded; it seems this man did know everything.
"Good, I shall attend then and get the formalities out of the way there, for now I shall dig around for the source of these heretics. I will require a guide and someone from your planetary defence force as well."
Corrvin took this opportunity to speak up.
"My lord, Governor, If you will allow it I shall be the representative and your guide. I know most of this planet having patrolled it and safeguarded it against all sorts of rebel and heretic scum, I am at your service." He finished this with a slight bow, his fellow officers following suit, with an approving grunt the Inquisitor then ordered them to rise. "Rise men, you will now be entitled into my service for the duration of my stay, you will serve me, Cerobius Kyrinov as if I was speaking the Emperor's commands myself, you all understand this?"
As one the group let out a unified response
"Perfectly clear my lord!"
"Good, now we shall begin our hunt for these servants of the enemy…"
-+-There is no such thing as innocence, only degrees of guilt-+-
Mayhem struggled against her rusted bonds, the old shackles cutting deep into her wrists causing delightful bounts of pain and the flow of blood. But she could not focus on that at the moment, her main goal was to escape before the dreaded Inquisitor arrived, she had heard many tales of them and their deeds as well as how they were cold and emotionless beings who reviled in their art of purging the galaxy of the blessed mark of Chaos and the four winds.
Mayhem struggled against the rusted chains, pulling and throwing herself forward in an attempt to break her bonds which kept her imprisoned, after five minutes of blistering pain and exhaustion she heard the crack of stone as it started to come loose, with her hopes reinvigorated she continued her struggle, gaining pace with each sound of shifting stone;
With a final leap she threw herself at the door and with a mighty clang the chains attached to the wall snapped alongside their anchors which dropped with a mighty bellow.
Rising too her feet she moved to the plasteel door and leaned on it, recovering slightly from her ordeal as she stared at the floor; taking in a few deep breaths she looked back up, but waiting for her was a pale man dressed in a coat of great length and a wide brimmed hat, in his hand he held a box, it gleamed like that of volcanic rock after hardening and being dipped in industrial strength polish.
"Good day my dear, I am an Inquisitor of the Ordo Malleus, I am afraid to say your time here is done."
Mayhem heard these words and started shaking, fear flooded her mind for unlike her sisters she had yet to descend into full fearlessness and insanity, and now she never would… For when one discovers the heresy of chaos they discover their redemption in the form of an Inquisitor, and his Pluvian Box…
…..
End Chapter
