All I see is the tar black inkiness born of the absence of light. It is as if that most basic of life giving energies is banished from this place.
I feel warmth beneath and above me, indeed the very air seems suffused with it. Like an after glow from a warm hearth or a cooling body it surrounds me, gives me hope. Hope that I still yet draw breath in the mortal plain, that I am not now in whatever afterlife the God-Emperor has designed for me.
There is no noise here, nothing to suggest I am anything but alone. How long I have been in this place I cannot begin to guess. The last thing I remember before the dark took me is my home.
Garnan IV, an agri-world of the Imperium of man. A peaceful, quiet utopia ruled by the honourable and just Governor Hardris, a man who inspires both loyalty and friendship in equal measure. I would have died for the ideals he taught, hell maybe I have...
It was a cloudy yet humid day, I was fixing the irrigation system in the lower westfield when my vox unit warbled into life. Pallac, the town elder was urging everybody back to the township for some reason I couldn't fathom. I have to get that crackly old vox unit replaced when I get home, again hope! What fool am I to imagine home? Hope is a danger and a comfort at the same time but it is all I have.
Harsh and sterile, this is not the natural light of my world. It floods my eyes until I scream. I pass out.
"Wake". The word seems stolen somehow, like it doesn't belong to the mouth forming it. I open my eyes and wish I hadn't.
A nightmare greets me, something pulled from a childs dream and twisted by a madman looks down at me with eyes of pure black.
"Welcome to my Hall of Violation, mon keigh", the voice says in its strange sing song way.
I realise this thing I can see is not the source of the voice, craning my head around I see the most hideous being I could ever imagine stood five paces behind and to the left of me. It is taller than a man, twisted and grotesque, with pallid skin the colour of the grave and it appears to be wearing skin like some twisted uniform over its emaciated form.
It is bent over a silver table, I cannot see whatever is on the table but the sense of pure evil I feel in this sterile room can make me hazard a fearful guess.
"We will make your death a sweet song of pain and enlightenment" says the thing, "although said ending is a very long way off for you, my friend!"
It raises an arm, a silver tube filled with a faintly glowing green liquid is grasped in it's gnarled claw.
As it moves towards me the first being I saw starts emitting a low growl, slowly building in pitch and volume reaching a fearsome howling. "hush Jaxir, we shouldn't laugh at the lesser races fear" the second creature says, "we are doing serious work here, Ar'lach'Verilon will be most pleased with our findings".
At this the howling abruptly stops and silence floods my senses until I feel a strange warmth spread from my thigh. I realise that whatever was in that tube is now in my bloodstream.
My world ends in the most extreme pain I have ever felt coursing through my body.
The only lucid thought swimming in this sea of pain is that this daemon is taking my eyes.
Inky blackness smothers me, I cannot move, I smell a faint burning that nags at my brain like an ulcer at my mouth.
I want to go home.
"oh Ferrus, you are such a terrible Gorgon" - Fulgrim the phoenician