Hadrak

"Now, there is never a need to spit such profanties towards such a host as myself. One that provides for his guests, keeps them placated and entertained. What is there to possibly complain about when you have all the pleasures in the universe but an utterance away? All because I made a simple request of you in the light of my boundless generosity? Now this won't do at all... I suppose you need to be taught some etiquette before we go any further. You don't mind such an impromptu lesson do you?"

- Hadrak speaking to a chained priest of the Emperor, the sounds of his electrified whip cracking in the background over the clatter of strained chains.

Young Life
Having been born as a slave to one of the myriad Pirate vessels roaming the vortex, Hadrak was well experienced as a performer from youth. Being taught the arts of dances both erotic and flamboyant, the young then male seemed eager to please his patrons. Gleefully taking it upon himself to extend his services further upon reaching the proper age after maturing to a more lithe and athletic form from all the years of dance and pleasure he had given out. Grabbing the eyes of both guests and his masters, always being of particular note to female clientele, Hadrak's almost serpentine motions both hypnotic and appealing to all those who were able to afford the young male. However this life, while plentiful for the young servant and more than bountiful in it's own right grew dull as the years wore on.

"Freedom"
One night of particular note planted a seed in Hadrak that would forever spurn the young male forward and eventually lead to him being the sensation filled vassal of Slaanesh he is today. That being when the Lord of the ship herself, Flavia Lamartina, summoned the experienced companion to her quarters for a night. Hadrak unsure of the meaning, strode forward with a walk that was only attained after years of giving sexual gratification to men and women alike. Each step of his upon entering Flavia's quarters having the confidence of a male yet with the gentle grace that seemingly only a female could possess.

Dressed in his usual fur and latex attire, Hadrak approached the woman as she sat upon a silver and emerald lined chair. Flavia's legs spread apart and a hungry smirk forming across her violet hued lips as a single finger beckoned him over. His steps ceasing once stepping between her legs, only one word slipped from her lips as her eyes met with the makeup clad emerald gaze of Hadrak. "Dance..." Without further urging Hadrak began doing so, both hands resting upon each side of his mistresses neck, gripping her shoulders while the male's own hips gyrated. Sliding over her luscious frame, lips tantalizingly close. She only remained still as he danced, each caress of his hands and the pressure of their bodies together seemingly doing nothing for her as he continued.

Tonight though was different, Hadrak knew it and couldn't quite tell why however inside of him something was changing. Perhaps the years of forced service finally pushing forward in a torrent of pain? The warped sense of morality instilled in him finally coming to fruition? To this day only the Dark Prince whom Hadrak serves can answer that, however what occured next is something that seeded the neverending thirst for torment within Hadrak. Pushing himself off of his mistress, and with a deft hand that seemingly acted on it's own, Hadrak gripped Flavia's adorned falchion and with a spin plucked it from her sheath. The shrill of the metal as it left it's home not even finished before a shallow slash sounded out in the then silent room. Flavia's blouse tearing open as a shallow cut formed across both breasts.

The glint of light that momentarily blinded her as she sat in shock was enough for Hadrak to plant his foot upon her chest and with a kick pushed her upon her back. The heel of one of Hadrak's boots digging in enough to cause a wound upon her stomach. More blood trickling down her torn clothes before in an instant Hadrak was upon his then former master. First standing above her, a snarl erupting from Flavia when she came to her senses after the quick upheaval, Hadrak answered her retort with another blow. This one being a chop which landed upon her left elbow, Flavia's blade weighted just so that each strike landed with much more force than put into it which resulted in the severing of her arm. Dropping to his knees immediately, straddling the woman. Hadrak's silver painted lips pressed to her own and muffled the woman's scream of agony. The song of pain sending a rush through Hadrak that he never experienced before, such a rush in fact that he inadvertantly plunged what was now his falchion up into Flavia's ribcage. The master crafted weapon slicing her flesh with ease before rending her heart. Hadrak pulling away from the impassioned kiss after sucking his former master's last breath from her.

The Chase
Having been at port during this incident, Hadrak was able to escape after procuring a few artifacts from his dead and former captor. Keeping of course the falchion he used to slay her with, grabbing a few clothes and the neural whip she used dis disciplining the other captive as he always had an odd fascination with such a device. Unfortunately for Hadrak the next few months would be trying, having to constantly elude those who wished to re-capture him as well as satisfy his new urges. Living amongst the rabble at times and bedding mistresses the next, only to have an instinctive urge to slay each woman during the most intimate moments they shared. Some of them ending with his hands around their throats, others with a broken neck, and still others with the very whip he used to administer much of his torture with. More often than not taking scraps of food and in some instances drugs that he had no familiarity with, up until a certain point not trying such concoctions as he had no idea what would harm him and what didn't. However the seeming luminescence of a certain pink fluid caught his eye one day, Hadrak unable to resist it's allure and succumbing to the curiousity he harbored.

Unfortunately, or fortunately depending on your view, this drug was a highly addictive substance called Rose. One that Hadrak immediately fell prey to as the drug coursed through his veins. The substance's effect of increasing all sensory input by multiple factors causing the now astray murderer to be flooded and overloaded with sensations that he didn't even know were possible at the time. Once more however, after exploring his own body while under the effects of Rose for the first time, Hadrak's hand found the hilt of what was now his favored weapon. The sapphire and silver inlaid falchion that had taken so many lives by his hands felt like a new weapon and Hadrak immediately felt the rush he had been searching for since killing Flavia.

Drawing the weapon, it's distinctive shrill as music to the man's ears before he erupted in a depraved laughter. This catching the ears of a press-ganger for another Pirate Lord, Hadrak swinging his blade around giddily with stilletto clad feet, pivoting and locking together perfectly with the fluidity of a ballet performer. The press-ganger figured such a catch would be easy, however in Hadrak's state even the vibrations of footsteps were rapturous and alerted him to the approaching being. Not before the crack of a whip sounded out and an unexpected surge of agony rippled through Hadrak. A scream leaving the male but one that was only of shock and not pain, in his heightened state Hadrak only turning to face the male with the smile of a madman. Silver lips parting to reveal lightly stained but well kept teeth, only for a moment however as Hadrak continued his pirouette. The brutish grab of the ganger easily dodged, Hadrak gripping the extended wrist of the male before with a dancer's grace spun through and let his favored weapon rend the flesh of the attacker apart. The blow landing in the opponent's unarmored abdomen and cleaving clear through, forcing him to fall over in crippling agony.

The screams of pain igniting a very familiar hunger in Hadrak, one that clawed at him stronger than ever before with each scream of the male below him. Using the whip that he was struck with, Hadrak coiled the leather cord tightly upon his attacker's neck and proceeded to hang the male from a nearby cross-beam. Both of his victim's hands shooting up to undo the coil while Hadrak landed another slice down the male's thigh, cleaving a hunk of flesh off and causing an eruption of blood in the process. Such a burst spraying onto Hadrak and causing his victim to pass out, allowing Hadrak to secure the tether which "fastened" his work and the now nerve-fried male to bask in the ecstasy he achieved.

The Whispers
The year now being 436.M40, Hadrak slowly gaining a reputation in the Ragged Helix as The Visceral Artist, moving from port to port, occasionally guests of Pirates, Hadrak's work started to make itself known and over the past 40 years his life had been much like it was in the service of Flavia, bountiful, pleasing, but growing dull. Each of his kills were more and more grotesque, the drugs Hadrak consumed more and more potent, fully addicted to the drug Rose and now becoming addicted to the drug Manic as when the two mixed together it produced such an internal rush that even the adrenaline felt sent a further surge through his body. During Hadrak's latest fit of "artwork" however, something forced him to cease in the middle of his works, cults were abound in many areas however Hadrak had not aligned himself to any of the cult's deities, or so he thought. For through the years of chasing that same rush of sensation and orgasmic bliss that he felt when taking the life of Flavia pushed him inevitably towards the addicting whispers of Slaanesh. Such voices now becoming evident to him and unavoidable, as they were not just simple dreams or mere happenings of chance that gave Hadrak just the right amount of stimulation. They were of a tongue he could not understand yet knew what he was being called to do, without so much as a thought Hadrak continued his work. However this time adding a particularly gruesome note to his latest "piece".

This latest victim was particularly brutal, up until this point Hadrak usually not fully eviscerating his artwork until after death. However the one who discovered this victim found the man to somehow be alive despite the seemingly grievous wounds dealt to him. Nailed into a wall with stakes, his torso flayed open and the ribs broken and then pried outward to keep the chest cavity displayed. Lungs and heart were undisturbed, blood trickling down but a surprisingly small bit of actual blood loss occuring. Instead the intestines were arranged in a pattern much like that of inverted wings, digesting what was presumably his last meal. The victim unconscious at the time but eventually killed simply so his body could be removed. Though upon removal a particular mark was seen etched into the wall itself and caked in the victim's bile. That being the mark of Slaanesh, this cementing Hadrak's faith in the Prince of Pleasure after chasing after his own vices for what was now most of his life.

Ascension
Life Anew

His new Lord guiding each step, the next few decades of Hadrak's life saw his notoriety skyrocket within the Helix and expand even into the Eye of Terror itself. Hadrak's journey going through various worlds, indulging himself in both drug, food, and flesh only to be just on the edge of finding that release he so craved. However every failed attempt, every new victim only spurred him onward. More drugs, more blood, more screams, more cuts, whatever it took Hadrak was eager to appease both himself and glorify the Prince that showed him the path to getting what he desire. Being that rush of excitement attained through the screams of others and the sound of flesh rending from bone, the disgusted scowls and protests before having others scream his name in bliss. Hadrak all to happy to take their lives at the apex of their physical pleasure, his own skills at pleasing others growing from his initial days. Using drugs and various "tools" to amplify the pleasures of the depraved, blades, fire, wax, chains, scalding liquids and impossibly cold objects, these and countless other additions to Hadrak's aresenal serving only to cement The Visceral Artist in the minds of multiple warbands, depraved nobles, heretical traders and anyone else which aimed to have a message masterfully crafted by Hadrak's hands sent to others.

One event though served to point Hadrak to the Imperium that he often avoided at all costs. The year being 637.M40, Hadrak's own life already artificially extended through the use of rejuv treatements and arcane methods granted to him by various Slaaneshi cults. During one of his jaunts into the Koronus Expanse, he came upon a rather quaint planet that he often uses for refining his efforts and gathering those that are wise enough to realize Hadrak's work as that of something greater. Upon landing however, Hadrak heard a unique voice almost right away, not one of typical feral natives but one of a civilized man. One that was preaching the doctrine of the Anathema, something which immediately revolted Hadrak as the whispers which guided him along screamed out in protest at such words, immediately though Hadrak knew what he had to do. Using the planet's forests as cover, he stepped through the brush with ease. The male's dancer-like agility and grace allowing movements such as that of a snake writing through the foliage.

The scene that followed was particularly brutal, even for one such as Hadrak who was not a natural fighter by any means. Stepping silently up to the priest, the crack of a whip sounded out before surges of electricity coursed through the male's body mid-sentence. Falling to the ground, Hadrak stepped upon the priest's back and purposely drove the stiletto heel of his boot into his spine, paralyzing the man rather quickly as a sharp cry of agony rang out. His tongue flicking out, running over his now always silver painted lips, Hadrak bent over and reached down. Removing his foot before shouting out in a hate filled cry to the priest which was down whimpering in agony "Your false god will NOT save you from me Holy ''man!" ''The terrified natives running from the scene as Hadrak strung up the priest, chaining him to the sacrificial alter which he foolishly preached upon.

What was seen after was first recorded decades later, after Hadrak had left the planet and continued on his sadistic and lust filled path.

"By the Emperor... what kind of madman did this?! Bodies on the ground bound and displayed, thirty six of them circling an alter in which a... man is chained upon. A former brother of mine... his body desecrated and an unholy mark etched into his skull. God-Emperor, I pray that you save this child of yours from whatever fate has befallen him."

- Unnamed Missionary of the God-Emperor

Fruits of Pleasure
That sacrifice of both the Imperial Priest and the village as a result of Hadrak's sadism filled rampage only served to raise him further, as now the hated Imperium found out of his works. The greatest enemy of all had noticed him, and Slaanesh had been watching her faithful servant during his walk. She deemed him worthy of a reward that served him well given his obsession with others and seeing their demise. About a month after Hadrak had first entered Imperial space, he awoke one day to find that his tongue was changed from it's usual appendage to that of a serpent's. Long, nimble, and able to detect others in a much more acute way than his drug addled senses ever could, Hadrak looked upon his own visage and smiled. Knowing that he had finally pleased his master to the point of reward, his vigor was renewed. The Visceral Artist beginning a campaign that forever would burn his image into the face of the hated Imperium and earn himself a place at the table of Slaanesh herself.

Apotheosis
Another 400 years after Hadrak's first gift from Slaanesh, his pinnacle would be reached. In the year 037.M41 Hadrak had managed to stow upon the vessel of Rogue Trader Phaedra Marcellus who happened to specialize in sexual companions for pleasure worlds in the Imperium. Roughly a day after boarding, Hadrak discarding his falchion after using it to cut himself open, hiding a myriad of drugs inside his own body and hiding a whip underneath a modified mesh cloak, finally met the mistress of the ship herself as she inspected each potential companion personally. Hadrak's figure striking her as odd enough to test herself after initial inspection and questioning. What occured next only happened at the behest of Hadrak as his promise of boundless pleasure stoked the Trader's ears.

Having her summon two others into the room they were to perform the trial in, namely the other two female advisors she had. Astropath Luror von-Menlau and Seneschal Neoma Metott entered the soundproof "playroom" and disarmed as Phaedra ordered them to, Hadrak then binding each of the three to the wall using the shackles present and gagging each, blindfolding all but the Astropath as her eyes were already gone. At which point Hadrak's final step towards apotheosis began.

Opening a set of torture tools present in the effective dungeon, Hadrak quickly cut open his side and with a moan pulled out the bundle of drugs and syringes he smuggled aboard. Readying multiple syringes for each of the three, mixing a cocktail of both Rose and Obscura, a drug which induces an extremely compliant state in it's recipients. He immediately injected each of the three now nude women with this cocktail, watching them writhe and squirm against the chains as their bodies began feeling the overwhelming sensations of cold plasteel and warmth of their own sweat beading down their bodies.

At such a point Hadrak began his torture of the three, his neural whip cracking over the flesh of each woman, sending surges through their bodies and forcing them to convulse against the chains, screaming into the gags while their bodies were pushed to further heights of forced arousal. Hadrak then tending to each of the three women's bodies, caressesing, probing, using the leather which adorned each hand to push them along. Forcing them to beg with their bodies one by one, hips raising at the slightest hint of contact only to be met with more pain from scalpels, clamps, and other instruments.

Finally, Hadrak started with Luror, leaving Phaedra and Neoma moaning and pleading before suddenly hearing the forced screams as Hadrak immediately penetrated Luror. Gripping the scalpel still with his right hand, she was far from difficult to please as her body was racked with an orgasm almost immediately, Hadrak watching her with his heavily shadowed eyes, tongue flicking out to caress Luror's sweat covered flesh before with a flick of his wrist and the precision of surgeon drew the scalpel across her neck. Blood erupting from her and splashing onto both Phaedra and Neoma as the two moaned out, unknowing to the fate of their third companion.

Neoma was next, Hadrak bringing her up to the edge yet however not giving her the same treatment as Luror. Instead denying the woman multiple times through the use of suction, his own "skilled" tongue, and a few well placed clamps before dispatching her in much the same fashion. Neoma having slightly more fight in her than Luror lurched at the chains for a few moments before settling down.

The pièce de résistance finally coming into play, Phaedra Marcellus herself. The woman's well maintained body showed zero signs of serious aging and was nearly flawless in it's appearance, tempting Hadrak constantly and in his mind mocking him and daring the long corrupted man to defile her in the greatest way he knew how. Hadrak at once aimed to bring this woman to what was the most violent climax she had ever experience in more than one way.

Teasing her first with his fingers, Phaedra's hips raising, chest heaving with anticipation in each breath. Without much more Hadrak instead plunged into her, filling her desperate cavity almost immediately before latching onto her neck. Hands ravishing her body and Hadrak knowing he wasn't far off from bringing her to the point where he needed her. For now stopping, bringing pain into the equation on her frustrated frame. His neural whip cracking over her skin, surges of electricity wreaking havoc on her already overloaded nervous system. Only for Hadrak to enter her a second time, bring her to edge and stop.

This mixture of pain continued up until the sixth time, Hadrak stepping away before grabbing a knife that Neoma had carried on her before disrobing. Stepping back to to Phaedra, Hadrak first teased her aching flesh with the pommel of said blade, feeling her body rise and writhe before stopping just before she was to climax. Hadrak then plunging the knife blade into Phaedra, both bringing her off in an extraordinary orgasm and ravaging her from within simultaneously. Thrusting the blade in and out of her as she screamed through the gag with a mixture of release and utter horror. Hadrak quickly following this by slicing Phaedra's throat with the scalpel, leaving her hanging before finally removing her blindfold as the life drained from her eyes. A look of utter satisfaction and pure terror upon her face, and the last image she saw was that of Hadrak smiling, his serpentine tongue flicking out as if revealing what he was before the finishing touches of his defilement began.

"Oh blessed be Slaanesh... Such artwork. This was no amateur. No clumsy butcher. However, there is a... youth to the work. His hands unsteady, his blade and whip quick to work. A frantic, manic hunger. There is something, so innocent about it all. And yet, so much promise, so much skill. A prodigy was here today, Lord Malduke, a rising star. How I long to meet him. To introduce him to my own work. Perhaps then, we could compose a masterwork together."

- Umbal the Duelist upon setting foot on the Boundless Spirit

Personality
The progression of time in the Warp seeming like countless centuries and mere seconds has done more than enough to twist Hadrak's already deformed mind. The young daemon eager to expand his horizons now that he has earned Slaanesh's favor, Hadrak is as callous and depraved as ever. Jaded already from his drug addled climb to apotheosis, only the concoction of ever more potent drugs seeming to please Hadrak now. Always in a euphoric or maddened state from one of his latest mixes, there is no true personality to Hadrak aside from the blatant sadism which shows through no matter how many drugs are flowing through his immortal veins. Quickly becoming known to torture the hapless victims of his as well as Slaanesh's daemonettes almost constantly, reveling in the genuine screams of his mortal prey and the ecstatic moans from his daemonic partners.

Appearance
In his new Daemon body Hadrak holds much of the same flawless features he once had, even holding the shape of a man, all the better to fool hapless prey. However there are countless features which denote his worship of the Dark Prince himself. Solid Magenta eyes set in permanent black circles, silver lips which shine with a clearly unnatural and aetheral shimmer. The morphed figure of a being neither man nor woman yet both, the gentle curve of hips, trim waistline and lithe, slender shoulders. Skintight leather gloves rise to each elbow before contrasting against porcelain flesh. Auburn hair falling to the upper back outlines a slender face with high cheekbones and lightly blushed cheeks. The thinly fastened sleeveless mesh cloak covering Hadrak's body and disguising "his" small breasts, obscuring them through the ivory fabric. Upon the back however a grisly crimson streak runs the length of the cloak down the center, along Hadrak's spine. This the result of dozens of hooks constantly digging into the daemon's flesh and tearing it which forces the being's blood to soak and stain the otherwise perfect fabric. Fur lined latex leggings run from mid abdomen down to knee-high gold trimmed leather stiletto boots. Each heel being impossibly sharp yet only digging into the flesh of victims and not the ground Hadrak walks upon.

Abilities

 * Master Medic - Through centuries of torturing others Hadrak has become a master at dissection and removal of organs. The natural consequence being that he also knows how to stitch others up, a handy trait occasionally when wishing to send a message to his enemies in the form of a still living specimen.
 * Expert Swordsman - Once again, centuries of practice and dance have lent themselves to Hadrak knowing the art of swordplay. Not enough to claim he is a master as such is not his forte, but enough to be a factor when need be.
 * Seductionist - Having to allure his prey in, Hadrak utilizes the blessings bestowed upon him by Slaanesh and the natural charm his body has. Pulling male and female alike before turning them into displays of his skill in both the realms of lovemaking and torture
 * Unnatural Agility - Gifted this upon ascension, Hadrak's movements always seem like a blur to those even with augmented vision. Dancing around his enemies and prey as well as slipping past all but the most absolute of attacks with a ballerina's grace.

​Gear

 * Neural Whip - Hadrak's favored tool, a perfect implement of torture that has accompanied him up through his ascension into daemonhood. Unaltered but likely tainted, never leaving Hadrak's side.
 * Robes of Torment - Augmented robes that seemed more fused to Hadrak's form now than simply adorning it. Appearing as an attached ivory mesh, sleevless and much like a simple robe. Flowing down and fluttering with each alluring step that Hadrak takes. Hundreds of almost microscopic hooks line the outside of this fabric as well as the inside. Digging into the flesh of both attackers and Hadrak resulting in agonizing bliss for the wearer.
 * Trifecta of Bliss - A single set of three injectors, each holding a different liquid inside that Hadrak was gifted by his Dark Patron. Each injector never emptying upon injection and never breaks, reinforced by the drug gripped will of the user to have an everlasting supply of joy at his fingertips.
 * Memory - A reminder of his last moments as a mortal, Hadrak took this master crafted weapon from his last and greatest victim as a mortal servant of Slaanesh. The blade tainted by it's owner and the immaterium, it now has an unearthly sheen that almost mesmerizes those who witness Hadrak using it. The gold and leather hilt shining with a flawless polish, one that never dulls and fades and only adds to the weapon's beauty.

Relations

 * Ran Ar-ghu - An on/off acquaintence of Hadrak, he was initially drawn to the inherent beauty she possesses. Learning rather quick however of her true nature given his augmented sight, the amalgamation of souls served as a cautionary tale for Hadrak. One which he would be able to use to his ends only on occasion as such a being was as likely to devour him as she was to help him.
 * The Adepta Sororitas - A constantly amusing obstacle that has wedged itself between Hadrak and his prey on more than one occasion, the constant enemy serves it's own twisted ends in the Artist's own mind. Hadrak occasionally plucking a sister from among their ranks, either torturing or corrupting such perfect ideals of faith in the Anathema which he so vehemently hates now. The results often producing a giddy laughter reminiscient to that of a schoolgirl from the young daemon.
 * The Ecclesiarchy - A natural enemy for Hadrak, the priesthood of the False-Emperor has always been more of a pool of toys than any actual resistance. Torturing and converting more than a few priests on his rise to power and sacrificing many others after breaking their so called "faith" in the Anathema. Hadrak now enjoys luring such holy men around, testing the depths of their faith and only revealing himself when they break from the pressures applied to them.
 * Storm Draugar - A particular mercurial force, Hadrak associates with this warband sparingly. Only when summoned and his particular talents are needed, of course given tribute for "his" services all the same in whatever is deemed worthy at that point in time. Dark Eldar Incubi usually suiting "his" needs and desires which Malak and his men can produce at least a fair amount of the time. Of the entire warband, Hadrak has a particular liking for one that he deems as a kindred spirit, the duelist/artist of the group and one of the first witnesses to his final ritual as a mortal servant of Slaanesh, Umbal.
 * Children of the Baseless Masque- Hadrak's personal cult, used by him as a launching platform for his own deviant machinations against the rotting Imperium. Promoting secrecy and debasing of the self for the greater pleasures maintained, Hadrak's lock upon his "children" is at this point absolute.

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"Such wonderful things, it pains me to know that there are ignorant fools who will eschew all these glorious pleasures that I have at my fingertips. However such trash will only serve to be amusement for me after I feast and drink with those who are deserving of my presence. That's of course assuming such mortals can last long enough to pass the first stages of my crafting, an artist after all needs able bodies and only the most pure will please me. Which is why I chose you my dear, one with such faith in a dying god as yourself can only be the most promising of canvasses for my work. However with you I will make a rare exception... For one such as yourself I'll offer you a boon, instead of enduring such wondrous torments at my hand, you can serve me and my lord instead. Of course you will likely refuse such an offer, regardless I am curious to hear your response. . . Canoness?"

- The Visceral Artist