Author's Notes: I do not own Warhammer that belongs to games workshop.
It was completelydark when he came to. His head swam, his body ached and he felt like he was going to his stomach. Where was he? He could not remember and trying to remember hurt too much. Looking around he saw that he was on the small bank near the village where the children like to go swimming. Had he been swimming? That did not make sense, it was the middle of the night and nobody went swimming after dark. He had to get home, his grandfather would be very angry if he overslept in the morning. Getting out of the water he tried to hurry but he still felt queasy and everything seemed to spin so he stumbled about all the way home. He finally made it home and somehow managed to get to his bed without waking his grandfather.
"Get up you worthless lout!" The shout caused Karl to jerk awake with a start. His head still hurt and he still felt woozy and sick, but he knew if he said anything it would only invite more yelling and perhaps even a beating. Getting up he started to peel off the soiled and torn cloths that he had fallen asleep in. Strangely, though he could not remember how it happened his cloths were slashed and torn and stained with what looked like blood. Looking down at his body he saw that his skin was shiny pink and itching in patches on his arms, chest and legs. Looking at them caused memories to stir in the back of his mind but he could not bring them into focus. Shaking his head he put on other clothes and headed toward the mill.
The day seemed to last forever. He felt sick all day and for some reason he began to feel increasingly hungry. He also began to feel tense and restive; he wanted to run, to fight, to do something. He even snapped back at his grandfather, something he normally would never do. That earned him several blows and he had to fight down a near overwhelming urge to jump him and beat him back.
The night brought no relief, if anything things seemed to get worse. The pain and feeling of sickness seemed to get worse. In addition he began to feel new pain. His bones began to ache, like when he had gone through only this was far worse, he felt like his bones were breaking all at once and his body felt like it was burning up. He could not think, the room was spinning and it seemed like a reddish mist was covering his eyes and there was a roaring in his head that kept getting louder and louder drowning out everything else then everything went blank.
Wakefulness slowly returned to him the next morning. Slowly Karl opened his eyes. His bones had cease to ache and the hunger and fever were gone, new sensations took their place. His muscles were sore as if they had been worked really hard and his stomach felt so full he felt a stomach ache coming on. Then he opened my eyes and saw a scene of horror.
He was lying on the floor of his grandfather's bedroom; he was completely naked and covered in blood. A quick frantic search of his body showed no wounds. Looking around he found that there was blood everywhere; on the floor, on the wall, and especially on the bed. As he looked at the bed he saw to his horror that there was more than blood on the bed; at first he did not realize what it was, it was to mangled, then he realized it was his grandfather. The body was torn and mangled so badly that it was nearly impossible to see that it had been human. Karl scrambled to his feet backing away from the ruin that had once been his grandfather. What happened last night? He could not remember. Why was he naked, what killed his grandfather, and was it still here?
Feeling things caught in his teeth he reached into his mouth and pulled something from between his teeth, it was a piece of bloody flesh. With a sick feeling of horror he realized that he must have done it, he had killed and, his stomach nearly heaved at the thought, eaten his grandfather. What was happening to him? He remembered hearing stories of mutants and ghouls who attacked and fed on people but he was not one of those, was he? He looked over himself again and he did not see anything that looked like mutation but did that prove anything, he heard that sometimes the mutation was on the inside. Memories kept floating in his mind but he still could not focus them. He had to think, but he was too sick with disgust, shame and fear to focus his mind. What was he going to do, what was he going to say to people, and what were these memories that he could not remember?
His thoughts were interrupted by a pounding on the door. "Maxwell, where are you, the mill was closed and people heard strange noise coming from your house last night. What is going on, open the door I say!" Panic flooded Karl like a gallon of cold water pouring down his entire body. He had to get away; people would never believe that he had not meant to kill his grandfather. Kill them, kill them all. The impulse hit him suddenly and it scared him almost as much as the prospect of being discovered. He had never been a violent person, and this sudden urge seemed to him like more evidence that something was wrong with him
The sound of the door being forced open brought Karl back to the present and raised his panic to a whole new level. Acting on instinct he bolted. Shooting out of the back door he ran toward the whole in the stockade. If he had not been so frightened he would have marveled at how much faster than usual he was running, urged on by the cries of shock that he heard from his house. Soon cries could be heard behind him "Stop him! Catch him! Murderer!" Everywhere he looked people were closing in on him, faces contorted grotesquely in fear and rage. Surrounded, he turned toward the town gate, which was already open. Several men blocked his way but with strength he had never had before he grabbed one in each hand threw them to the sides with such force they left the ground. The way cleared he ran toward the gate and escape several men on horses rode into the village. They mostly looked like bandits or mercenaries in battered leather armor. The exceptions were the two in front, one wore plate armor and the shaved head of a priest, confirmed by the massive war hammer hanging from his saddle. The other wore fine cloths that would not have been out of place on a noble, except for his hat on which was a golden emblem of the twin tailed comet. A witch hunter! Even in this remote village Karl knew of those grim hunters. Turning to the side he tried to run past them but they moved to block his way, then the priest swung his hammer striking him on the head and everything went black.
Pain brought him back to consciousness some time later. His head hurt from the blow but it was not that which had woken him. That pain came from his wrists, looking down he saw that he was wearing manacles which were attached by a chain to a post. They seemed to have spikes on the inside that were digging into his flesh. It felt like they were freezing and burning him at the same time. "Don't like it do you filth," said a cultured voice "Those spikes are made of blessed silver, harmful to creatures of darkness like you."
Turning he saw the witch hunter coming into what appeared to be the village grain storage, empty now awaiting the harvest. The man continued, "We were traveling on another matter and we came to his collection of hovels to gather supplies and low and behold we find another monster running right into our laps. So tell me, how long have you consorted with the forces of darkness?"
"No!" Screamed Karl in a panic, "I… I have never consorted with darkness!"
"Liar!" Bellowed the witch hunter; "The evidence is clear for all to see by the fact that you ran. If you were innocent than you would not have tried to run, your actions condemn you! Normally," He continued in a calmer tone, " There would have to be the formality of a trial but as I am in a hurry and your guilt is evident we can just skip to the burning and be done with it. I will leave you till morning to consider your fate. If you choose to confess your death will be swift and prays said for your soul. If you do not, then you shall burn, in this world and the next." So saying he turned and left Karl in the dark.