A Fury of Redemtion

''Khorne does not care from whence the blood flows, only that it does.''
That phrase resonates in my head, fulled by the madening rage that had consumed every other tought that I might have had. I is allways like this when I fight. I feel nothing but blinding rage. Today, we atacked a small settlement that simply was in the way of my warband. There where only a few hundred people living here, but still, their blood had to be spilled. I have killed dozens of people today, like I did so many times before. I crushed a mans skull between my hands, impaled a little kid on a spike, stomped ist mother to a red puddle a ripped a soldier in half.
These actions had an incredibly empowering inpact on me, and after that destructive murder-trip, I found myself standing inside a small shack. Now, for the first time in days, I wait for a momment, a take a deep breath. The air was unfiltered, and I could smell the polution of the atmosphere and the stench of burning flesh through my helmet. Everything was in ruins. I stayed in this calm state until my heartrate had dropped to a normal level. And in this rare instance of tranquility, I listen to the slow beat of my bio-ingeniered heart the first time in what felt like years, and then finaly, like all the times before this one, the pain returns to me.
It doesn't come from any external wound, but rather from the deabth of my tortured soul. The pain drives away the anger, and brings me an other, long forgotten feeling: guilt.
A deep tormenting guilt for my past actions consumed me and memories and I was brutaly reminded of what I had become. My puls axelerates, pumping my ice-cold blood through my paralized body. I start to sweat and shiver, somthing I though was imposible for me. A single thought has established itself in my brain, the most feared revalation, that I allways tried to avoid: I am a monster. A traitor. Nothing more than a hate-fulled beast.I killed inocents. I murrdered my brothers. I left them in their time of need, abbandoned. And no exuse could be made anymore. No justification could make me forgive myself for that.
I drop my axe to the ground, and fall to my knees as if to pray. And for a momment I realy wanted to, but the dark god I have sold myself to only exepts the prayers of blades and bolters screeming on the battlefield. The God-Emperor, my former Master would surely never listen to the desparation of a traitor and a murderer. ''I have no gods left to asc for forgivness'' I wispered.
In this Instant of spiritual desparation, the long supressed memory of my dead brothers flashed trough my brain to haunt. I remenbered every single face, the look in their eyeswhile I killed them. Fear, sorrow, suprise, rage, disgust,…hate. I remeber the curses, the insults and acusation trown at me. ''In the eyes of my brothers, I am less than nothing.'' A living, breathing reminder of their shame, and the failure of the imperial doctrin. A heretical beast that has to be hunted down and slain. And rightfully so. In the eyes of my loyalist brothers, death was still to good for my kind, and they only grant it to us traitors because of a distant scence of pitty.
Eversince the day I allowed myself to be corrupted by the powers of chaos, my menatal and spiritual health has constantly deteriated. Ideas come ramdomly, logic is a rare acurance, and instead of strategy and tactics, I have become a bloodthristing berserker, the hellish rage given to me by Khorne pushes all other emotions aside. Of course, in contrast to my mind, my body improved greatly after my fall from grace. I have become larger, a lot stronger and faster, but my tainted body is far from superior. The mass of flesh and muscle I now consist of, is covered with dozens of mostly self inflicted scares and archane symbols, burned into me by cruel rituals and demonic sumonings. Aroused by the bloodshed around me, these scares now bured again, as if to remind me of my fate.
with this pain, my heartbeat had grown stronger, to the point where I could hear anything but its thundering rythm and the rushing of blood inside my bio-enhanced ears. The reinforced mechanical armor I had worn for years feels more heavy with every flat breath I take. The steel plates always where like a second skin to me, atached to my nervoussythem, so that it would funktion as a part of my body. Whearing this armor was allways a great feeling of might and strengh. with this peace of ancient technology I was faster then ever and well protechted in any situatio, but now, it feels like prison. A metal coffin made to slowly suffocate me.
I don't know how long this torment lasted, but it was suddenly interupted by a single man entering the room and thus disturbing my suffering. A fallen brother. A traitor like me. He says something, that I don't understand, yet still, I get up and grab my axe. He opens his mouth again, but I don'tlisten. The chaos-scum has talked enough. I turn around and take a step towards him.
The look of his face enrages me, and the fury of battle starts to fill me again. His grey skin,the pointy teeth, the yellow glow of his eyes, everything about it screems out his vicious nature.
''Blood for the Bloodgod.'' I say. The mutated traitor barely has the time to take a confused look at me and lift his gun, bevore my axe meats his neck. His head falls to the ground, and his filthy body joins it with a splsh of black blood.
I bow down and pic up his disgusting head. ''Skulls for his Throne'', I wisper to myself. Then I grab his bolter and leave the shack to find the rest of my brothers. At last, the Emperors justice has come for them.