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Dawn of War: Tempest
01/26/11(Wed)16:42 No.13668778 File1296078121.jpg-(187 KB, 800x800, Csgoto.jpg)
>>13668714 The Harlequin mime had been strapped to its surface and was pinned by four Marines, each holding one of its limbs in place. The thin, rubbery armour over the alien's chest had been sliced open and peeled back, exposing its porcelain skin. In turn, the skin had been cut, burnt and shredded until it was awash with bloody colours, almost as vibrant as the eldar's armour itself. The alien's mask had been removed, and I could clearly see its startling blue eyes bulge with each incision. Ahriman circled the table slowly, muttering quietly to himself in a tongue that I recognised but could not fully recall. He was lost in concentration, and seemed to be almost oblivious to the presence of the dying Harlequin on the table next to him. But as he muttered the secret words of his forgotten language, more cuts and gashes appeared in the flesh of the prisoner, each wider and deeper than the last until blood started to ooze out of the joints in the creature's armour, pooling on the table and then on the floor below.
'I suspect that this distaur, this mime, can speak. My hypothesis is that it will do so when it reaches its pain threshold. This is part of a general theory that I have tested many times before, and it appears to hold true: all life forms change their nature after they experience a certain amount of pain. Of course, the thresholds vary by species and training, but the general theory appears to be sound.'
I watched the sorcerer as he turned away and continued to circle the desk.
For a few more seconds I watched the cuts and the gashes continue to appear across the Harlequin's silent body, seeing its sparkling blue eyes bulge in agony even as the life drained out of them. Just as I turned away, one of the eyeballs ruptured and a wide cut ripped across the eldar's face, covering his features in ocular liquids and blood. |