Imperial Inquisitor Garro Territus - Twenty years earlier

Inquisitor Garro Territus crept silently down the hallway slowly. His breathing was held as he had been trained. He closed his eyes and slid into a shadow as he heard heavy footfalls. The lights flickered as they were meant to. The Slannesh followers on Casta III's underground Chaos cult had tampered with the generator so it would cut every few seconds, then reconnect giving a, as the young Inquisitor had heard, sensory delight. Personally, it annoyed the young man as he watched a large framed man lumber past. Reaching into his shirt, Territus touched the Aquilla he kept on a fine chain around his neck. When the footfalls had receded, he stepped out and glanced around once then begun silently sprinting down the hallway, mentally cursing everytime the light cut as it caused his pace to slow slightly. Reaching the end of the hallway, Territus skidded to a stop, slamming himself gently against the wall, head turnt so that he woud be able to see down it without exposing himself. Leaning round slightly, he gazed one eyed down the short hallway. At the end, roughly 250 meters away, and facing away was a single cult member who was knelt on the floor, jabbing his hand with a dagger enough to leave his hand a bloody mess.
Pausing to check his pistol and powerfist just to be certain, the Inquisitor snuck down the hallway towards his unknowing victim. Two inches away, the male span to his feet as if alerted despite the lack of sound. He swung the knife wildly at Territus, who swayed back, charging the fist and slamming it forwards at the cultist who was thrown back by a few thousands watts of lightening, a loud cry of estasy fleeing his lips. The body tumbled and lay on the floor, stomach ripped open and smoking from the internal rupturing caused by the bolt. Switching the fist off, the male moved towards the chared cadaver, tugging roughly to move it into cover. Seeing the bloody path it left, the Inquisitor sighed. Time was short. He ran for the nearest side path, hearing rushing footsteps. Leaping, the male dove through the gap, his feet barely passing sight before the guards arrived, letting out cries of alarm at the sight of the still smoking body. Landing in a disgruntled heap, the Inquisitor span to his feet and drew his pistol. He glared towards the door, teeth bared in anger at himself for being so clumbsy. His first mission was already, just two months after he'd arrived. In that time, he had completely researched his foe and had reconnoitred the hallways, withdrawing without being seen. And now, ready to get a full scan underway so that he would know where to call in the Imperial Guard regiment he had been given temporily to cleanse the threat. When it was activated, the ship, hidden in the shade of Casta III's moon, would strike towards the ground, storming the tunnel and taking the cultests completely. That plan was now pointless as he didn't know if any other routes excisted. Shaken from his depressed chain of thought, the male span at a sound, his eyes getting a two second image of the heavily built cultist swinging swinging down a lump of wood, then nothing.

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Garrus Territus's head was an outpost to pain. He felt as if a herd of wild grox were rampaging across it, trampling the grey muscle. He managed to heard up the relictant beasts slowly, regaining his sanity. Shaking his spinning head, he opened his eyes tiredly. That was the most he could move. His groggy, blurred eyes could vaugely make out blood-covered ropes, inscribed with symbols that made the Inquisitor ill to even look at. Pulling a disgusted face, he tried to shake the chair, discovering it to be bolted up. His arms flexed weakly to break the cord but to no avail. The male set about learning his surroundings as he had been taught. Seeing the thick wooden door was shut, his gaze was caught by purple flame candles, wondering how such a thing could exist. The possible answers made him shudder. His eyes were locked on them, drawn firmly. He wrenched his eyes away with a fit of vertigo.
Head spinning harder now, everything took on a leery edge, statues seeming to loom from purple shadows at the young male. It was in this state of disorientation that he caught sight of the terrible icons and pornographic pictures of people that had either too many limbs, or too few. Their faces bore expressions of agony and pleasure at the same time. The male blushed as the images called to him, lowering his head. Shifting his mind towards escape again, the male closed his eyes.
Slowly, he let his control over the warp come into play. As his dizzy, weakly protected mind breeched the warp to use its power, he felt something great clutch his mind. His nose burst out blood as it begun to speak, its tone vast, hurting his ears. "Ah yes..." The creature said in that powerful voice that made Territus quail. "You are weak now, but I will let you be my pawn. An honour for one such as you. You will be the one who helps me get the last of my children."
Garrus tried to teear his mind back, feeling his ears and eyes streaming blood. A pulse of pain slamed through his wrists where he vaugely remembered seeing the ropes. Lowering his head, he observed the bonds glowing a fierce colour, keeping him in the creatures grip as, he saw belatedly, they had wanted. "I have been waiting a long time for a person as weak as you to gain power enough to assist me even mildly. Don't worry. My aide will take your body now."
Garrus tore back hard, screaming in agony as the rope burned his soul. His bloody poured in a river from his eyes, nose and ears, his mouth slowly filling with the crimson liquid as he shook to escape. The room rattled with the psycic 'battle' and a mirror shattered inwards, casting its shards into the room over the Inquisitors face as his lips were pulled down by the sheer power in his scream. Weeping, the male slumped in his chair, mind freed from the warp. He hung weakly on his bonds, barly noticing as a pair of males, one naked and scarred strode into the room, persued by a naked female with bloody lips. "Impressive," spat the dressed male. We had to summon the demon ourselves." he glanced left to right, view taking in both people, "transfer it."
The Slaaneshi cultists came over, rubbing the slumped male slowly. Their movements became slowly more eroctic and ignorant of the weak males pathetic struggles as pleasure lowered his barriers. The room filled with an unearthly screaming as the pair suddenly clasped hands, clasping the hilt of a glass dagger, that flickered purple with the flames that suddenly flared up with the screaming, together with their free hand. "In the name of Demonic Prince!"
The blade slammed into the mans heart, shattering explosively. As the Inquisitor slumped, the dressed male begun chanting fast as the naked couple begun to sway, chanting with the male. The screaming drew to a pitch then seemed to shatter as the Inquisitor's spasmed. His dying eyes saw a black shadow move behind his eyes that raced at him then knew nothing except pain.