Mark of the Artist

''Crimson essence dripping from gloved hands, chromatic steel glimmering through the reminder of a consuming hatred. Such sights provoked hellish laughter from the wielder, consuming him with a joy such that containing it was impossible. Exhausted and weary, such laughter only continued forth without relent, amber eyes surrounded in a sea of black gazing upon the icon of terror left in his wake. A sacrifice that twitched and writhed with the miniscule strength left in a maimed and defiled body, still desperate for release and terrified at the maleific being which inflicted such horrors upon it. ''

I.
The bodies around him, essence staining his clothing and flesh, Hadrak only found joy in such things. The awe inspired terror inflicted upon such prey ecstatic to the male. Lost in the thought that these souls had him as their final thoughts and laughing with the ecstasy of a child, Hadrak began his advance from the spent village. Knowing well the paths traversed, in fact dancing along such routes despite the fatigued state he was in. The rush of such kills and the roar of adulation from within assuring the warped male of his decisions.

Nightfall proved however to be an experience far more rewarding than the simple rush of murder and the joy of complete defilement. Hadrak's action drawing the long awaited attention of his dark patron, for Slaanesh delights spectacularly in the unabashed defilement and breaking of those most pious of souls. The fervor and hatred which consumed the young follower being of particular interest to the omnipotent and obsessive gaze of this fickle Chaos God. Enough so that Hadrak was even rewarded for such virulent efforts, however Slaanesh was merciful towards this eager of males and bestowed such a gift while Hadrak was unaware.

Lost in a rush of drug fuelled bliss and fervent energy coursing through the disarming male's slender and unblemished frame. The artist only advanced into one of the more civilized outcroppings on this agricultural world. A few wayward souls up and about to witness gleeful skipping and elegant bounds. The glinting of crimson stained steel underneath a full moon casting wayward reflections back to each observer. Hadrak dancing with complete abandon despite the looks received, concerned only with the moment, with the temporary high achieved beyond that of the drug, a more complete high which made the male feel fulfilled, even satisfied.

II.
The first scream however went unheard as a pulsing and rippling energy filled Hadrak's maw, too preoccupied with the sensations abounding around and within to quite register the melodic scream which pierced the still night air. The cry which followed though did not escape this drug addled artist's enhanced hearing. Graceful and fluid strides slowing to gaze at the ragged child which gazed upon him, Only a slight turn of the torso to reveal an unbound cloak, splayed to each side of porcelain flesh and another grisly sight that would disturb most adults, let alone a mere child.

Dozens of scars riddled exposed flesh, some freshly inflicted wounds dripping rivulets of wondrous essence with each twisted heartbeat. Hadrak completely unaware of the change he had undergone, still consumed by the hold of Rose which was upon him. Falchion in hand, robe fluttering whilst stained fabric clung to the male's alluring yet grisly display of a body. The usual sway of hips accompanying an outstretch of arms, reminiscient to that of a mother wishing to embrace her terrified and confused child.


 * "Sssshhh, calm yourssself young one. How are we supposed to play if the adults ruin our fun?"