Chapter Three - Devilish Nightmares.

"But if he was to unite past and future,
he would'st have need of one strong
in the ways of the mind, free from Chaos,
bound to both past and future by too powerful
a bond to be broken by physical means.."

The light hurt at first. His eyes adjusted to it gradually, though. It wasn't bright enough to
trouble his eyes now. In fact, it was familiar somehow.
Feeling about for something to support him, he pulled himself painfully into a sitting position.

"Wha.. pain?"

Clasping his hand to the side of his neck, he felt a needle-fine hole, which was
still leaking blood down onto his shoulder. Scared, he tried to clean some of the mess out of
his matted fur, but it was no use.
Then he looked up. Retching, he turned onto his side, vomiting onto the floor.

"Please no.."

He curled himself into a ball of matted fur and howled. But his howls didn't cut out the screams,
and the walls, stained with the blood of human, mobian and alien alike, remained.

...

It must have been a few hours later when he awoke. Instantly he regretted it, and clung to the
fading sensation of unconsciousness. Uncurling slightly, he pricked up his ears. Silence. Hoping
for just one second that it had all been some terrible dream, he chanced a look. Peeking through
half-closed eyelids, he instantly regretted it.

"I see you've.. awoken." The voice was soft, enticing. Like a serpent luring its prey it spoke.
Turning away from the voice, he hid his face in his arms.
"You've had sufficient time to recuperate. We wish to.. speak with you."

He curled tighter.

"This will all be so much.. easier.. if you cooperate." There was no trace of anger or
impatience.
He put his hands over his ears, blocking out the voice. At once, he wished he hadn't. Two
tentacles latched onto his arms and legs, pulling him roughly out of the ball. Cringing against
the cold stone on which he lay, Miles whimpered.

"Let us try once more. We want to talk.."

...

Deep inside the bowels of a Chaos citadel, a bound prisoner imagined he heard a fox scream. But
that couldn't be right, foxes weren't around anymore.

...

Zachreiln emerged from the chamber after about an hour. No sooner had he stepped through the
door than he was met by one of the lesser daemons.

"Haw goesss thh processsss?" It was the best a lesser daemon could do really.

Their mouths hadn't been created for human speech, and the best they could do was a cruel parody
of words. It was obvious enough that this daemon didn't understand the words himself, he'd
merely been given them by a greater daemon.

"It goes fine.. He is.. "marteil" ..easily corruptible.. there should be no..problems."

With a snarl of acceptance, the daemon stalked off to inform his superiors.

Zachreiln himself was beginning to forget human tongue, for he spoke often with lesser daemons,
who generally preferred their own language. He was a "fallen angel", a former captain of the
Dark Angels, who had taken Horus' side in the War of Heresy. Now he was a Chaos champion, his
limbs had gradually moulded into tentacles, his eyes to slits. While he could no longer remove
the armour, for it was a part of him now, he had no doubt that his body had changed too, in the
most horrific of ways.
He was unique in that he'd been retrieved by the Dark Angels and tortured by their chaplain, yet
his call had summoned a fleet to the supposedly hidden location and the forces of Chaos had
welcomed him back within their ranks. However, the process of repentance had changed him further
than any mutilation of his physical state could hamper; he yearned to rejoin the forces of the
Emperor. Yet, with his body in this irretrievable state, he would never be accepted into human
society. Now, at last, a chance to redeem himself had come-

"The fox must escape!"

...

"Now that you've had a little..time..to think things over, Miles, I need to know that you're
willing to..help..us. We took you from that station for a purpose.. do you know why that was?"

Miles still lay on the tablet of stone, his eyes flooded with crystal tears, which ran down
through his furry muzzle and hit the floor in silent splashes.