Sextus Pompeii panted heavily, his head resting between the girl's shoulder blades, their sweat mingling to pool in the hollow at the small of her back. His lust sated…for now, as it seemed his lust could never truly be quenched for long…he lifted himself off the girl, Baebiana. She let out a tiny whimper as his weight was raised off her buttocks, her wrists tugging at the bonds that pinned her. Her sobs, muffled with her face pressed into the mattress, had ceased. The Senator had hurt her, as he always did, but he was careful. A rogue psyker with the talent of an Astropath was rare…so he had to be cautious not to damage her unduly.
Standing next to the cot, he slipped his toga over his head, mindful to smooth out the gathers and folds properly. He watched Baebiana's irregular breathing for a moment, then reached down and tugged on the free end of the knot that held her left wrist. She slowly pulled her arm to her, curling her legs up against her body. Not bothering to free her other hand, she lay in the fetal position, her whimpers quieting. She was perilously thin, her ribs and hips too prominent. Her hair was a wild tangled mess even before he had ravaged her. Her appearance was unlikely to arouse lust in most men…
But it wasn't her body that he lusted for. Baebiana was a symbol…a talisman. For years now, she was the voice of her Lord and Master. Her mind reached out across the void to the Eye of Terror. When his Lord spoke, it was through her lips. She was his vessel.
So in Sextus' mind, when he was violating her…he was touching his Master. To him, it was as though he had enjoyed sexual congress with his Lord. The mere thought of it aroused him again, but he closed his eyes and asserted his control. The Senator was a busy man…he had important things to oversee.
And…there was always tonight…
He closed the cell door behind him, locking it with an ornate silver key. At the end of the narrow hall in the deep cellars of his estate, the stormtrooper guarding the entrance stood at attention as he passed. Sextus considered his plans for the ritual that would finally bring forth his Master from the Eye of Terror as he wound through the maze-like subterranean corridors.
Stepping through the cellar door into the mansion proper, he turned for the main stairwell. On the third floor was his office, frosted windows looking over the city…his city. He sat at his desk and enjoyed the view for a moment, the hills surrounding the city blushing with the colors of autumn. He couldn't help but smile, Symbolic…it is autumn for the Imperium as well. Time for the long winter and a new spring…Our spring…
He spent some time seeing to his normal affairs of state. There was an upcoming appropriations bill in the Senate that he would need to lobby a few more votes for. There was a communiqué from a corrupt Judge that caused him some concern. The Arbitrators were already considering Lucius Scaevola's disappearance as suspicious. An investigator named Delphias Fedarsi had been assigned to the case. That will need to be nipped in the bud. He played through the dozen messages recorded by his vox-unit. Most were mundane business save one…
" S. Pompeii, this is Decimus Ovidius Malleolus, I have need of your assistance regarding a one Manius Lucius Bibaculus. He apparently has stuck his nose entirely too far into places he should not, and it would seem most interesting for him to disappear from this area having made two visits to my personal abode on two successive nights. I was wondering if maybe you could use your considerable influence to schedule a grand dinner in the Carthago Nova district. If you can do this for me, I will owe you a great debt. May the God-Emperor be with you."
Sextus snorted at the farewell on the message and leaned back into his chair. Decimus. Hmmm…perhaps I can kill two birds with one stone. He rocked forward and withdrew a paper and quill from his desk. This note couldn't be sent over an unsecured transmission.
D. O. Malleolus
Bibaculus is a nuisance we have tolerated for far too long. I will be glad to assist you in this matter.
As it happens, I have a request of you as well. It seems the Arbitrators are already suspicious of Judge Scaevola's disappearance. Investigator Delphias Fedarsi has been assigned to the case. It is imperative that his investigation be misled away from the cult. I will send the Judges' weapons, armor, and other effects to you. Plant them on some sacrificial lambs…perhaps some street trash in the outer circles of your cell. Perhaps, finding the Judge's equipment will lead them to believe his death was at the hands of those ne'er-do-wells and investigate no further.
If not, then assign someone in your cell to deal with Fedarsi in a more direct manner.
I look forward to seeing you at the ritual tomorrow evening. The Days or our Glory are at hand. By the Will of our Lord and Master.
Sextus
The Senator called in a page, a fresh-faced citizen girl with freckles dotting her cheeks and nose. She was a relatively new convert to the cult, and one could not discern that just last night she had performed acts of carnal deviancy that would make others nauseous just to hear of. Her sleeves were long and her blouse closed up to her neck to conceal the marks, bruises, and lacerations from the revel. She bowed her head slightly and he held out the letter after sealing it, "Take this to Senator Malleolus. It is for his eyes only. Give it to no other." The page nodded and hurried out, eager to please the Apostle of Slaanesh.
He spun his chair slowly to face the window again. He held his arms out as though he could encircle the cityscape and hold it in his embrace. Soon…very soon…
The Great Hall of Sextus Pompeii's home was large enough to hold hundreds of people, and in fact had on many occasions. The senator often held functions for other politicians, officials, or dignitaries, as was expected for a Patrician of his social status. Tonight however, it held a more intimate audience. Three dozen men and women knelt on plush pillows wrapped in velvet, wearing nothing but expensive jewelry and ornate masks.
Each of the men and women in the room were leaders of a coven of the Cult of Slaanesh, invited here for this very special evening. They hummed and chanted the hymns and psalms of the Lord of Pleasure, their combined song almost sounding like the moans and gasps of erotic passion. The room was lit only by firelight from braziers ringing the room, drifting trails of scented incense rising into the air. Between the columns that lined the long hall, embroidered tapestries hung depicting orgies of carnal excess and sanity-shaking depravity.
Before the small crowd stood Sextus Pompeii, himself wearing a mask to give him the appearance of the greater daemons of Slaanesh, the Keepers of Secrets. A great fire blazed behind him, and suspended over it was a cast iron cauldron with the sweet smell of roasting meat wafting from it. He spread his arms wide, "Brothers and Sisters, welcome to this…most hallowed of nights. For over five years have we waited for this day…for the return of our Lord. For hours counted six to the sixth power, he has been imprisoned. For five nights, we have reveled, and tonight is our final sacrifice to bring him forth in the flesh…
"All the senses we delight in…to His greater glory. Not only the sweetest of pleasures and torturous of agonies do we partake of in our quest for the joys of experience. We listen to the most melodious of music and cacophonous of noises. We value the visions of great beauty, but equally crave the sight of the monstrously grotesque. We sniff the scent of lavender and vanilla, but also the putrescent miasma of rotting flesh…"
He took deep breath, looking down at the assembled cultists with pride. He, the Apostle of Slaanesh, would bring forth the power of Chaos that would overwhelm this world…and from there all of the galaxy. "And at last, tonight, the final of our pleasures. Tonight we pay our homage to the sense of taste, to the bitter and the sweet. Tonight, as we eat, the final sacrament and sacrifice we make, breaks the boundaries of reality." He turned away and lifted the lid of the cauldron, allowing a great cloud of steam to escape.
Within, curled in the fetal position, was the roasted corpse of Judge Lucius Scaevola. For the last couple hours, Sextus had listened to the agonized moans and groans from the Arbitrator as he was cooked alive. The Senator carefully carved through the broiled skin and muscle of the ribcage, laying slices on a silver platter. Turning back to the crowd, he announced, "Step forward, Bothers and Sisters. Take this sacrament. Feast upon the flesh of our enemy. Bring forth our Lord."
One by one, each of the cultists stepped forward and took a piece of the human flesh and lifted their masks enough to place it in their mouths. From the corner of the room, unnoticed by the participants, Baebiana watched with wide eyes. A smile slowly spread as each one chewed and consumed the horrifying meat. Through her eyes, another was watching the ceremony from the swirling Chaos of the Eye of Terror…and he was pleased.
Sextus was the last, intending to take the last, dramatic gesture of the ceremony. He reached out and plucked an eye from the corpse, holding it up for the assembly to see. "Now…we call forth…our Master…" He popped the eye into his mouth and chewed delicately, savoring the ghastly flavor. Even through the thick ferrocrete of the walls, they heard the roll of thunder outside. Sextus glanced around, unsure of what to expect, as the thunder crashed again, louder and closer…
The building shook as lightning struck so loudly it could have been mistaken for an explosion. The cultists screamed in shock as the roof ripped open, chucks of ferrocrete raining down around them. Jagged pieces of stone crashed to the marble floor, and the rain poured down in a torrent. The sky above was brilliantly lit in strobe of light as blue-white arcs of lightning crisscrossed the clouds.
Sextus blinked and swallowed as he felt a strange sensation in his stomach. Within his mask, his concerned look was concealed from the other cultists. It started as a queasiness in the pit of his stomach, then began to spread throughout his torso. The nausea began to morph into an ache, and from there a searing pain. He glanced around nervously and caught sight of the gaunt astropath girl in the corner, watching him with otherworldly eyes. She winked and silently mouthed the words, "It is time!"
As the cultists watched, Sextus began to shake and quiver. Unable to speak as he was paralyzed with pain, a bubbling gurgle erupted from the throat of Senator Pompeii. His skin seemed to swell outward, the skin stretching taut. His mouth spasmed open and blood erupted forth, dribbling out from under his mask. The cultists stepped back in alarm, the rain driving down onto them from the gaping hole in the ceiling.
They shrieked as Baebiana let out a bloodcurdling scream, her body shaking as though palsied. Her eyes rolled up in her head as she collapsed to the ground in a heap. The cultists' attention returned to their Apostle, and they gasped as he was now bloated like an overfed tick. Sextus loosed a garbled howl of anguish as his skin began to split…great tears ripping open across his flesh. His skin fell away, fluttering to the ground like ghoulish strips of bloody wrapping paper, revealing something else standing in his place.
Standing there was a towering figure in power armor of deep purple. It was fashioned to resemble a muscular physique with tattoos of gold and rings pierced through the nipples of its chest. The figure's hands raised to the mask of the Keeper of Secrets and lifted it from his head, revealing an angular face, beautiful in its severity and intensity. His short hair was platinum blonde with a tight curl. His eyes were pale blue like ice. He tossed the mask aside and strode forward to the shocked cultists.
"At long last, I am free," He raised his hands and head to the sky, the rain running down his face. "Over five years I have been gone, and at last I have returned home."
The figure stepped forward among the cultists, "I have watched since my imprisonment in the Eye of Terror. I have guided your efforts through Senator Pompeii…whose services are…" He glanced behind him at the bloody mass of flesh that had served as his living gateway into the world. "…no longer needed." He looked to one of the cultists, "You. Decimus Malleolus. Congratulations. You are now the cult Apostle."
He held out his arms wide as the cultists reached forward, anxious to touch their new savior…their master. "I am Gaius Romulus Saevitiae."