Interrogation pt. 1

In which the unwavering Supreme Overlord witnesses the foulest acts of depravity he has seen from space marines yet...

Story: Interrogation part 1
Author: Torture-Device

Torture-Device is quite like a Russian version of that one bad man in Mel Brooks's Blazing Saddles.

He likes rape. He likes rape a lot.

Quite a lot of Torture-Device's artwork centers around rape, actually; rape and the denigration of the opposite sex. A walk through his gallery is a tantalizing exploration of gory breasts and savagely violated slits both natural and man-made.

Therefore, it only makes sense that Torturer be a projection of his fetishes.

And you'll recall that Torturer currently has the Lady Inquisitor in captivity.

I like where this is going.

The wait was maddening.

Actually, this perfectly describes the entirety of this part. It is absolutely maddening how long we wait for anything at all to occur. The pacing falls off the edge of the world to places I cannot accurately describe.

But Interrogation, pt. 1 starts off with Inquisitor Tina sitting in a cell waiting to be raped viciously and repeatedly by her degenerate host. The entire time she sits there, she is also wordily reflecting (with no regard for grammar) on how hopeless her situation is.

Then Torturer shows up.

Oh, YES, Dad!

 He is, apparently naked, which drums up a large quantity of unpleasant imagery. Malexis has come with him, and together the two begin to harass and tease the inquisitor.

It should be noted that suddenly Torturer becomes highly refined in the way he speaks, as does Malexis, and the two begin discussing etiquette. Somewhere along the lines, Malexis apparently has a heart-attack:

"My Lord, you really have no idea of etiquette. I can vouch that our noble Inquisitor is used to the most he-eeeh, refined customs."

So this continues for a while and we get a description of Torturer's naked, shriveled corpse-like form. Torture-Device appears to have taken a stance on the eternal debate of whether or not Space Marines have penises.

Guess where he stands.

In the midst of Torturer's bodily description (possibly as a result of "simbionite"), my word processor alerted me that there were "too many errors to process in the document" and promptly closed itself, and while this was an unfortunate occurrence the next scene had a far worse effect on my person.

It seems Torture-Device is padding this down as much as he possibly can in some desperate effort to lengthen our suffering, going so far as to give us a detailed description of Moerchen's "tough, battle hardened skin" that leaves me wondering when the sex flashback happens.

After that, however, we move from the frying pan to the blast furnace.

"When I just joined the Host, I voluntarily subjected myself to some ah… experiments? I needed it, to prove my devotion to the cause. Can you guess what they were?"

"They experimented on your cock!"

Back on the topic of your bad English.

"You shouldn't ask such dirty questions, my Lord… She's young, and innocent. Well, not so young, but juvenant sometimes works on the soul too…"

"But she has no soul, quite pitifully – I'm sure it would have complimented her body, twisting them into the perfect amalgam of womanhood.  Also, the drugs are working flawlessly, Malexis. I can barely feel the null backlash – it's even oddly pleasing, this discomfort.  Anyway. We always have problem, numbers! Not enough people to carry the will of the Gods. We tried… we tried to see if it were able to transfer the geneseed in a natural way."

Torturer let out a short chuckle and shook his head, evidently bemused at the recollection of his own naiveté.

"We wanted to see if it was possible to rewrite the geneseed code right into a infant, a fetus. If we – and I too – could make a woman bear a child, pass on our genes. If we could impregnate women with babies that would be true Astartes from the start. But we failed in that."

We shall simply have to start speaking only in memes here-on out.

"Sure, we violated many strong, beautiful women. But the things that were born – oh, heh, they quite differed from Astartes. And people. They came to the light through gnawing their mothers' wombs and then dying from constant hunger. Such a joyous sight, to see them crawl out of the bloody gashes…"

Torturers eyes glazed over as he'd given himself off to the memories.

 What the flying fuck did I just read? I suppose the action itself isn't breaking canon or anything since they experimented to be able to do that, but space marines/impregnation/child-development/birthing do not work that way!

Anyway, Inquisitor Tina informs Torturer at this point she is sterile to begin with. But if she's sterile, why not just make her non-sterile? I mean, we've established you can apparently make space marines able to create baby space marines with all of their implants despite all of the Emperor's failure to to do just that.

So, Torturer begins interrogating Tina, leaving us to transition to-

There was something off in the air. The minute the young Epistolary walked in the Chamber, Chief Librarian Dinotus sensed a disturbance in his surroundings. It wasn't anything particularly threatening or dark, but the moment Cailean bowed down on one knee before him,  Dinotus realized what it was.

Oh fucking hell, we're back to Cailean.

Dinotus (the pedophile of a chief librarian, recall) begins to try to access the epistolary's mood, but Cailean refuses to submit to his psychic bad-touch.

Surely, Dinotus could've broke through it like a Dreadnought through an unarmed croud, smashing all the defenses, but… It would do more harm, traumatize the mind of the Epistolary even more. There were already cracks in that wall, and Dinotus felt the bitterness that seeped out of them.

 You mean to tell me that the chief librarian of this chapter acknowledges Cailean has serious problems? You don't just let him live, then! Space marines should be immune to trauma, if they begin suffering from it then that means the hypnodoctrination process is not working.

Dinotus questions whether Cailean is coping with these bad feelings or not, but Cailean dismisses it and inwardly says, (no joke) "You weren't there!"

So despite the awkwardly tense situation broken up by more poor grammar, the two go for a walk together down a hall of statues to fallen battle brothers.

"What you don't see, is that they are dead because they were defeated." Dinotus pointed out to another statue. "Marcus Nurro, killed by a Carnifex on MacRagge, when we helped the Ultramarines. Not before he'd blown the creature's head off. "

 The only message I really get from this is that Torture-Device thinks Macragge is a Scottish clan name.

There can be only ONE Chief Librarian!

Because Dinotus is too much of a pathetic pussy to fry Cailean's brain, or at least slap his arrogant face around, he instead meekly tries to reason that the Chapter needs to know why he did the things he did. Amusingly, Dinotus also gets away with calling a 250-year-old marine a child.

This goes on for another page, Cailean ranting with such evident insanity it's boggling that he has not been zapped beforehand. Dinotus then finishes the part with this very anti-climactic warning for his babyish student:

"But what you need to realize, is this. If you kill that heretic, and everyone else, your battle brothers, Inquisitiorial henchmen and even the xenos would lie dead as you conduct the Emperor's punishment upon that abomination – it wouldn't be victory."

 ---~~~---

Something has been nagging at me for a long while about these two twisted gentlemen and their stories.

When one looks at the comments of these pieces, at least early-on, they see dozens of "good job!" statements from apparent nobodies, but occasionally completely non-sequitur remarks from apparent friends of the authors (I think these two really insult the term). Lelith and I got to looking at these people, recently, after we got back from our little pleasure trip down the Khaïdes (pleasurable indeed it was, my sweet dancer of death).

Lo and behold, dear Lelith did find something most interesting.

"What, then?" you might ask. That, I reply, is hers to say. I have an appointment with the Fellatio Friends.

Toodles, dear readers!

- V.