Saturday, July 14, 2012

Lullaby Fanfiction 01 - The Origin Of A Lullaby (18+)

So here's the first real instalment in my series about my bad guy Lullaby from the roleplaying game Black Crusade/Warhammer 40k. As I said in an update before I decided to write down all his adventures, and because he's gay and very sexual I thought that maybe they fit here. I have also tried out a new style of writing so you could say this is a experiment.

What do you think happens when an insane person who only knows hate is given a weapon and is taught to kill the ones he hates?

The world is set in the 41st millennium where humans live scattered around the universe in a so called Empire where a special emperor keeps the humanity alive with his own life power. Because The Emperor has grown so weak the human realm has started to fall apart. The humans live a very strict life and has to constantly fight for survival against different types of creatures and demons who lives in the universe, and also many times against them selves. The human world is very corrupted and here and there heretics are born from ordinary people who gets seduced by one of the four dark chaos gods and lives the life of evil and death. The heretics are constantly chased and the more infamous the heretic gets the more the Empire turns their eyes on him/her.

This is the story of my heretic Lullaby who is very self-confident but also very hurt and broken as a human. He's totally insane and knows nothing of what is right and wrong. Even if he's very innocent at heart in a way he's also very dangerous and corrupted, and the more the time went the more infamous he got. In the end the super little gay boy who could charm the pants off of a grown man became so known in universe he became a legend.

Do you dare to get to know him?



Me about Lullaby: He stands for a lot of stuff I won't support. He was created to be as far away from me as a person as possible, and in the beginning I felt pretty angry at him for being so "stupid". But the more I played him the more I began to love him, and now he's my baby and favorite character even if he's a horrible person in so many ways. In the end I also feel a lot in common with him. I guess some parts of him was created from my subconscious and at times I can really relate myself to him. I also love to play the evil guys in games, and I always root for the bad guys in movies and anime so he was really REALLY entertaining to play! But because he was so complex even though he was very simple minded as a character I had a very hard time playing him. My brain was always turned into a goo. LOL! He needs a lot of my brain capacity and an enormous amount of energy to be played. Now he's removed from play though because he became so powerful that the Game Master didn't want to allow him as an active character. Lullaby's more or less an NPC (non playable character) now. I miss  him so much...  (T_T)


Warning!

This story is very dark. I have to warn sensitive people from reading it. His background is very horrible and I myself had a very hard time writing it. It contains a lot of provocative subjects.

Picture of Lullaby as demon god made by me. Before when he was a human he didn't have the tail, horns and purple skin. His helmet wasn't cracked either. Picture took 26 hours to make from scratch.



When I look at people I feel disgusted. They are stupid and predictable, boring and untrustworthy. The world of humans is a dark and gloomy place, and I have been cursed by once being forced to live in that fucked up world as one of these humans. Why do I hate humans? Because the humankind didn’t give a shit about me and gave me nothing but hell.

I still ask – I don’t know who – what I did to deserve the hurt and deceit I got from both my family and the old man. I still ask – I don’t know who – why no one came when I cried for help during all these seventeen years filled with neglect and abuse. You see – I have no one to ask, and I didn’t have anyone to cry for. I have never had a name to call out for when I’m in need and even if I had I was already too broken to call for them. The ones I should have been able to call out and reach for were the ones who were guilty for making my life as it was. Every day as a young boy I asked myself “Is this what my life is for, to waste in a world full of these bad people?

Six years. That’s all I have lived this far. It was right after my seventeenth birthday that I got free from all the pain. Before that I wasn’t alive. Six years ago I got the courage to grip the handle of freedom. Before that I was a doll filled with chaotic emotions and bending to all the demands of other people. When I got older I wanted to rise up and look my demons in the eyes to tell them to piss off, but no matter how hard I tried they had a grip on me that was tight enough to almost suffocate the life out of me. My little will to stand straight crackled under the heaviness of other people’s greed and desires. I had learned from my childhood that tears and begging didn’t help, so I just did as told. Just cope with the pain. That was my first lesson in life.

I have no memories of ever having the thing people call friends in my entire life. Not that I care – friends are just in the way and makes things more difficult than it needs to be. But I do sometimes wonder how different my life would have been if I would have had these nonexistent memories. It would probably have been happier and brighter than it actually was, but I consider myself lucky to actually end up like I did. Now I have all the time in the universe to actually live as I want. You see – I’m now a god, and now I’ll tell you my tale of the road from a pathetic human to the being I am today.

I was born into a noble family in a backwater world in the outskirts of a galaxy. What my real name is you don’t need to know. You don’t even need to know from where I am or where I lived. Just remember my name as Lullaby. That forsaken place in form of a dying planet was barren and very “cold”. There were no such things that I later learned is called plants and nature. What I remember is a boring and barren earth where people had built up a boring civilization and lived their boring lives like livestock being long forgotten by their keeper – the Imperial Empire, the so called “savior of human kind”. But we were left on our own. That pathetic little play of heroism of the “so great” Emperor was fake and more transparent than the crystal tableware at my parents’ mansion. But I was too young to realize that. I just went along with whatever my brainless parents told me without a second thought.

My family was a family with navigators facing a downfall. My family house had its ancestral seat on Holy Terra (Earth). That was the degree of their reputation and nobility. To be a navigator a human was born with a gene called the navigator gene. This gene went from parents to child only if both parents had the gene, and so the marriages were mostly – if not only – political and arranged. I haven’t heard of any navigators who decided by themselves to get married. There has always been a hidden hand directing them to whom they should marry.

But then something happened that would devastate my family house for all eternity. Many generations ago children without this gene was born in my family house. My ancestors didn’t take it that seriously in the beginning even if the humiliation of a child with no navigator gene was born under the family name. But as time went by more and more children was born without this gene and the reality of a mutational defect became known. Little by little did the other navigator family houses distance themselves from my family. No one wanted to arrange a marriage with us. Or that’s what I’ve been told. No one wanted to risk their own reputation with meddling with a “sick” navigator family where no new navigators would be born. Being a navigator is serious business, and all navigators are very proud of being just that. They are coldhearted with a stick up their ass if you ask me. They can’t think about anything else than their pride as navigators. That’s all they live for. Idiots…

My previously rich and highly ranked family was eventually thrown out from the Holy Terra. The family had began falling apart and lost their esteemed seat on the holiest of places, and instead they were thrown to a world far away in a distant corner of the universe. The signs of the planet dying were so invisible that in the beginning no one could predict the planets dark future. There my ancestors decided to live and try to repair their family’s reputation to get back to Holy Terra.

Years and years went by and my family house had almost died completely. My parents were the only ones alive with my family name. The other children with the missing gene had discarded the name of my family to live as normal people on other places in the universe.

In desperation my parents tried to get children for years to fix the broken family reputation and status, and finally they got a daughter – my older sister. She had the gene and a new hope began shining. She was considered a miracle.

Five years went by with my parents still trying hard. My parents thought they had been spared from the defected genes and that they would be able to begin the restoration of my family. So after five years they got another miracle; me.

Or so they first thought.

This time the precious gene was missing. The hopes and dreams of my parents were shattered in that instant. The curse still remained. I was nothing but a disappointment. I didn’t look like anyone else in the family. My family genes were normally of black hair, icy blue eyes, long and graceful body shape, and that “precious” gene. I was born with golden hair, heterochromia with one blue and one green eye, and later when I grew I lacked the typical body length of my family. That last “defect” was out of undernourishment. But most importantly: I was born without the navigator eye.

That stupid gene would have made me a pride for my family house. That gene would have given me the best education available on that dying planet. It would have made me a proud navigator and my parents would have loved me as much as they loved my older sister. But I was born without that gene and considered defect goods. My parents immediately decided that I was worth nothing. I couldn’t restore the reputation of my family house. I couldn’t bring in money for them.

The result? I was neglected.

My parents hated me from the moment I was born, which was very unlike of what they thought about my five years older sister. I lived my first years pretty much locked up in my room in a crib. Only the servants came to look after me from time to time. I don’t remember my mother holding me, kissing me or even feeding me. I don’t remember my father ever even come to look at me. I have no real memory of how he looks like because there’s almost no memory of him to be remembered. I had no one. I was a child alone in a quiet and empty room.

Okay, I’m not that honest at the moment. I wasn’t all alone. My sister – who’s name you don’t need to know – visited me pretty often according to the servants. The servants told me later on in my life as a toddler that she used to bring me her toys and draw me pictures. I don’t remember anything of that – I was a baby after all – but I do have a memory of a young girl with black hair looking at me from between the bars to my crib.  In that memory she’s crying and holds out a purple stuffed bunny to me. I don’t know why. I guess that was my older sister.

As far as I know she started the navigator training really young and was prohibited from visiting me. I think she was only seven years old when she started home school, and boy was Mom and Dad proud of her! I the other hand was still left alone and forgotten in the room far away from my family’s everyday life. The only ones I saw from that day on was the servants who then and then came to check up on me. But they did less than was necessary and I remember starving for such a long time that it made me bite on the wooden bars of the crib. I was pretty much a locked up animal, and the malnutrition made me very short in height compared to the others in my family.

You probably ask why my parents didn’t adopt me away or killed me. To adopt away a child of a noble family and risk that it falls in the hands of lower ranked people isn’t even thinkable. And because I was such a disappointment for my parents I guess they wanted to let their frustration and anger go out on me for being one of the cursed children. Then the last question remains: Why didn’t they just kill me instead? They didn’t have the guts to do it. Even though I was a harmless kid they were too weak-minded to actually kill me and toss me to the curb. They were cowards.

For seven years my life continued like that of an animal. When I got too old for the crib I was allowed to walk around in the room. At first I lacked the strength in my muscles to actually walk. I hadn’t had a chance to practice, and it took me a long while to build up my strength and learn how to walk properly. I was never allowed outside the room though.

I was a very quiet boy who didn’t do or think much. I was weak in mind and very empty. My mother would beat me up when I did something wrong, and my father ignored my existence completely. To escape from that pain I had learned to lock the reality out. When I was beaten I didn’t cry. I just wasn’t present at those times. Later when no one was looking I shed some tears to let the bad feelings out, and then I became empty again.

My parents seemed to struggle a lot with their money, and the more they lost the more my mother let it go out on me. My family’s fountain of fortune was drying up and they hoped and waited for their daughter to get her school and training finished to start working as a navigator and bring in the money. But in the end it didn’t really go as fast as they wanted, and so they came up with a plan.

A few days after my seventh birthday my parents acted very strange. Suddenly they came into the room – both my mother and father. First I got scared and tried to hide in the corner of the room as I hugged the worn-out stuffed bunny. I had just recently gotten beaten up by my mother. During the years I had learned to fear her. But this day they were smiling warmly at me and praised me, and they promised to take me to a fun place. That was the first time in my whole seven year long life that I was allowed outside the room and feel the fresh air from the outside world. As the stupid kid that I was I trusted them and got so happy that they finally cared that I smiled the whole day – until they dumped me in an old rundown car in the outskirts of the city.

They had taken me to a junkyard in the outskirts of the city where no one would see them. There stood an old and broken car that had been mugged from everything that was worth something by street punks. I remember seeing a black suitcase when my father opened the door to the back seat of that old car, and he took it without saying a word. I was being held in my mother’s arms and my father gave her a nod. Then she put me down on the back seat of the car, closed the door and locked it without even looking at me. At that instant even my simple mind of a seven-year-old understood that something bad was happening, and I started crying. The last thing I remember from my parents was their backs as they walked away and sat down into their car and drove away. Those fucks didn’t even bother to throw a little glance at me over their shoulders as they left me there. I was worth that little to them.

The hours went by and the sun had begun to set. I had cried so much that I had no tears left by the time it turned dark outside. I remember I was lying on the back seat of the car hugging my purple bunny and waited for something that I didn’t know what it was. Only later did it occur to me that maybe I had been waiting for death? My mind was already that fucked up after living with my disgraced parents for seven years that not even the dark scared me as much as it should. I was used to being alone in the dark. I was used to be left behind and not being cared about.

As I had resigned myself to my fate I heard footsteps outside the car, and as I looked out the window in hope for my parents to take me back I saw a man in his fifties coming at the direction of the car. You don’t need to know his name either. Let’s call him for the old man.

He smiled to me with a friendly smile and locked up the door to the car and greeted me. His voice and smile was so warm I immediately felt safer. He took me with him and brought me to his place – a huge mansion bigger than my parents’. There he gave the servants the order to give me a shower and new clothes, and then give me something to eat. For the first time in my life I was treated as a real child. The servants were very considerate and careful with me and gave me a very nice and enjoyable bath which I can still remember to this day. The clothes I was dressed in had nice colors compared with the rags I had been dressed in before, and when I was shown to the dining room I got a picture book with different kinds of foods. The nice female servant asked me to choose one of the dinners from the book, and of course I chose the one with most color. That house was strangely adapted to children, and I had no idea about that being abnormal because the only thing I had ever seen was the room at my parent’s mansion.

After the dinner the servants took me to the old man’s room and he asked me about my name and other things. He seemed really curious about me and I felt happy that someone cared. I answered the questions and was slowly starting to like him. My fear for this unknown person melted slowly away and I thought that maybe the pain would go away now. But oh how wrong I was.

During the following days he gave me food and sweets, toys and much more that a kid could ever dream off. I was never interested in the toys though. I had never learned how to play and didn’t know what they were for. Even though I was deeply hurt by my parents’ betrayal I got happy and accepted his praises and hugs as if he was my own father. But just a few days later after I had settled down his true colors as a pedophile was revealed and at the same moment as it felt like he was impaling me I learned not to trust anybody no matter what – not even for a single second. Humans were dark and disgusting creatures. That was my second lesson in life.

The years went by and for each year that went by I grew darker in my mind. I wasn’t allowed to wander outside the mansion but I was allowed to freely walk around in the house. I got everything I wanted except for the freedom. I had all the luxury in the world. The only catch was that I was forced to go to bed with the old man.

The feelings inside me grew and were first out of fear, but later I began to feel anger and hatred inside me. At times the mental pain got so overwhelming I could just lie on the floor crying and screaming my lungs sore. It hurt so much it turned into physical pain and I had no idea how to control those emotions. It was like I was suffocating. No matter how deep breaths I took it felt like there was no oxygen in the air and my chest felt like it would implode because of that. But at the same time there was a constant pressure inside my chest, almost like I had a small pressure chamber in there containing high pressure steam. First it managed to contain all the pressure without it being critically filled, but the longer I lived in the old man’s house the higher the pressure became in the small chamber. That’s as good as I can describe it.

Then something clicked in my mind when the constant pressure was too much to cope with and I began to break things to prevent myself from breaking. I remember when I was twelve I began breaking the crayons. That was the first sign of my dark mind growing larger. The objects which I broke got larger and more valuable, but lifeless things weren’t enough after a while. That was when I asked for a pet and the old man gave me a puppy. That puppy didn’t live for more than two days before I had tortured it to death. The old man gave me a pet after pet and all the pets ended up dead in a few days. I felt such enjoyment of hearing the animals scream and cry by my hand. If I couldn’t be happy then they shouldn’t be allowed to be happy either. I didn’t want to hurt so they should be hurt instead of me. I didn’t want to die so they should die instead of me. That was the only way to decrease the pressure in the small chamber inside me.

After I had killed some animals the old man stopped giving me new ones. He realized that something was wrong with me. I wasn’t that nice and quiet boy anymore. I was becoming sinister and he called for a child psychiatric to check on me. That was when I got diagnosed with RAD – Reactive Attachment Disorder.

But don’t get me wrong. The old man really cared about me. The only thing that was off with the picture was that I was a prisoner and forced to sleep with him. During the years I had grown so used to his egoistical actions in bed that I stopped caring. It was a piece of cake! But I still felt that pressure in my chest. It didn’t want to go away and now that I didn’t get any pets that could die instead of me I felt the steamed pressure inside me to rise again and threaten the chamber walls to give way. But it didn’t crack yet.

When I grew old enough to understand the old man told me why my parents had left me in the car. He told me that my parents’ line of nobility was dying and they had driven their fortunes down to nothing, and their status disappeared along with their money. Money is power, they say. But that’s not all true, or is it? In the Emperor’s little corner of universe it maybe is so, but in my world on the other hand – that’s where the true power lies.

The old man told me that my parents had contacted him and asked him for money, and when the old man asked for me as an article of exchange my parents didn’t hesitate to sell me off. They didn’t have the guts to actually kill me, and so this was the easiest way for them to get rid of me and at the same time earn some money. The plans were made and the exchange would be done far from the city where no one could see it. That’s when I knew that the suitcase my father had picked up from the car contained the money from the old man.

Even more years went by with the steam slowly putting more and more pressure in my chamber. The older I got the more I understood, and the more I understood the more I began to hate. In the end something broke inside me and all that was left was hate and deceit – and a tremendous hunger for revenge on both my parents and the old man. It drove me mad and at times I could both laugh and cry at the same time. The crying was pathetic self-pity, and to escape from the pain I imagined how I killed the old man in more than one creative way. That thought made me laugh, and there I was consumed inside a confusing bubble of insanity – laughing and crying at the same time.

That’s when I learned my third lesson in life: Hatred.

My hunger for revenge grew bigger. The lack of animals to torture made me scared of actually dying myself. Something had to die instead of me. Or more like someone.

During the nights I would be awake and stare at the old man sleeping next to me on the bed and think about how easy it would have been to just strangle him or cut his throat open like a pig being butchered. But what would have happened to me if I did? That thought alone kept me from taking action. I was scared and weak – nothing like the one I later became to be.

To keep myself calm I sang lullabies quietly inside my mind. But the lullabies weren’t sweet like those sung to a child. They were cold and dark, sung to the old man about his death, and then and there I whispered to myself:

“A lullaby of death.” That was when I realized something. “Lullaby…” I whispered again and got a smile on my lips. I closed my eyes to go to sleep for the first time in a long while with a satisfied thought in my head. Lullaby – that was my new name. I didn’t want to carry the disgraced name which my parents had given me. I was ready to throw that name away.

One thing that haunted me during the nights was nightmares. The nightmares were of big a purple mist inside a cave. Every night I walked through the mist searching for the reason of why I was in there. Everywhere where I looked I saw things which were pleasurable. I saw people enjoying the effects of drugs, people eating the most luxurious dinners you could ever imagine – like those I ate – and I saw beautiful and attractive people around me having sex. I felt disgusted about it because of my situation. I had a hard time accepting sex as an enjoyment of obvious reasons. But there they were. As I walked further into the depths I saw more and more luxury and pleasures, but suddenly something moved before me and I stopped. I looked at a face formed in the purple mist. It was breathtakingly beautiful. It was so refined and appealing I immediately felt myself being hypnotized by the sight. But the more I looked at it the more horrific it became. It was almost like the facial features first fooled me and the more I looked at it the more I saw the true features reveal themselves. It was almost like a slow realization that this face really looked so beautiful that it was horrible and disturbing to look at. I got more and more scared in the dream and I couldn’t move. I couldn’t run away or even blink to stop myself from looking at the face. The face whispered something to me, and when it smiled I got so horrified that I began screaming. Like in a state panic I woke up from the horrible dream covered with cold sweat. I didn’t realize it by then, but now I know that it was Slaanesh, The Prince of Pleasure – my ruling god who was calling to me and seducing me.

When it was a week left before I turned 15 years old the old man took me aside and told me that I would be disposed off and be recruited into the Imperial Army as a guardsman. I laughed quietly because I knew what it was about.

“Are you tired of me? Am I growing too old for you? You want a little innocent boy who still cries when you rape him?” I asked him and he slapped me across the face.

“How dare you speak like that to me when I have taken good care of you? Normally the other kids have respected me, but you are completely different from the others. I don’t like that look in your eyes, and I don’t like the way you stare at me when I walk by,” he had yelled at me, and I had laughed again.

“What kind of stare do I have? Like I would kill you?” I had asked, and he had just stared back at me. “So you’re scared of me, papa? How pathetic,” I ridiculed him, and he slapped me across my face again.

“That attitude of yours will bring you nothing good. You are so disgustingly creepy that it makes me want to throw you out immediately!” he yelled. “The only reason of why I have put up with all your stupidity and attitude is because I just couldn’t throw a child to the streets!”

I had just smiled and stared at him calmly.

“But you lack a heart enough to rape one for eight years?” I asked him.

My calm smile was enough to provoke the fright inside him. I could almost smell the fear from him. “Nothing good” he said. Right! Look at me now, papa! All that I’ve succeeded in doing – there’s no way the old man hasn’t heard the news of the Lullaby.

“On your birthday next week you will be taken to the Imperial Guard and start the training. That will be the end of us,” he had then said and left the room.

Said and done. When my 15th birthday came two ridiculously big guardsmen were knocking on the door to get me. The maids in the house had prepared a bag with clothes to me and I was standing in the hall with the bag over my shoulder looking at the old man as he said:

“So now it’s the end of it. You will not come back to this house and you know about the secret you should keep, right?”

I chuckled and walked up to him, put my arms around his weak neck and whispered into his ear:

“Don’t worry, papa. I don’t want anyone else to punish you for your deeds other than me – so your secret is kept safe. But remember this: The next time I come to this forsaken planet you will be the first one I’ll visit – if you’re still alive that is. And when I leave you’ll be a lifeless corpse rotting away somewhere where no one will find you.”

He immediately slapped me over my cheek. Then he yelled to the guardsmen to take me away and as I felt the big hands take a hold of my shoulders to pull me along I shook myself free and dropped the bag to the floor to discard everything the old man had given me – I didn’t need him – and then I looked at him:

“I don’t need you or anything you’ve given me, papa. I’ll show you what I can do. Just you wait,” I said with a sinister smile and then left the house with the guardsmen.

The time at the training facility took a year. It was very tough for someone with my small body build and I was always the last to finish the finish line. That made me frustrated and I began to work harder. I was a weakling with no experience of physical hardship. I was the weakest in camp and at some points I was teased and even harassed in every way you could imagine. I was so pathetic and weak that I would sometimes hide and cry. That steam was still building up to the breaking point in my chest. I wasn’t supposed to be there. I didn’t want to be there. I didn’t want to turn into a pawn to the filthy Emperor and do whatever I was told. I wanted to be free and decide for myself what to do with my life. But I was too scared of doing it. Thoughts about what would happen to me if I just left the camp haunted me. I didn’t dare to tell anyone what I was actually thinking in case of me being treated as a heretic of some kind. I was trained to kill heretics – not become one, so I knew what would happen to me if I was considered a heretic.

One late evening I was being harassed by three of the strongest but most stupid recruits in camp. One of them was holding me down and kept my mouth shut with a hand over my lips while the other two touched me in ways that made my body remember the old man’s touch. I felt so disgusted and angry, but also scared and sad. It had been five months ago since I had been touched in that way and my body still remembered everything. I knew I was a tempting target to many men with a specific taste of small and feminine boys, and I could understand them why they went after me. I am beautiful and handsome. I would say I was the most beautiful at that camp and people were frustrated about the lack of simple pleasures in that strict place. Of course they would go after me. Who wouldn’t? I was an easy target.

I begged them to stop but no one listened to my muffled screams. Just like no one had listened to me from the moment I was born. It felt like my messy childhood was shoved in my face all over again with no one listening to me even though I cried. It drove me mad and at some point I had begun to struggle so hard that I managed to kick one of them in the face, and then I managed to struggle myself free from the one holding me down. I hurried up from the floor in the small shed where I had been dragged to and I held my trashed clothes in place with trembling hands. The one who had been kicked in the face was throwing curses at me and the other two laughed as they looked at me.

I was like a small animal pushed into a corner. My instincts were running wild but I was unable to move. As one of the recruits came closer and took a hold of my arm I got a black out. As soon as I came to I was lying outside the shed with my clothes ripped apart and a few coins on the ground around me – probably tossed to me to mock me after the recruits were finished with me. I was shaking and a burning anger was boiling inside me. The chamber was cracking inside my chest. Steam was leaking out through the cracks. I looked at the coins, closed my hands into fists around them and cried. I was angry and filled with hatred. I wanted to get my heavy flamer – which was the weapon I got special training for – and burn the whole camp down. But that was just a wish. I was too scared to actually do it.

A fellow recruit found me on the ground. I recognized him as one of the 50 recruits who I shared sleeping quarters with. He slept in the bunk bed next to mine on the top bunk, while I slept on the lowest bunk. I had never talked to him before but I had seen him look my way many times. He was a boy with dark brown hair and golden eyes, and in his eyes he always had a glint of something that I didn’t recognize at that time. Now I know it is called sympathy.

When he came running to me he asked me what had happened. Of course I was bleeding after the incident and when he realized it he pulled me up from the ground and forced me to the infirmary even though I protested heavily. I felt ashamed and vulnerable in my unstable state. I didn’t want anyone to see me like that.

I was taken care of and the next day an officer came to ask me what had happened. I refused to give the names of the ones who had done that to me because I didn’t want to rely on anyone. Those brain dead officers never really cared though. “It’s your decision if you want them to go free,” he had just said and left me there after giving me the order to rest for the rest of the day. During the day I got more and more angry. The chamber was still leaking steam and the more time went by the angrier I got.

Later on I decided to confront the idiots during dinner time in the canteen, and it all ended with them being so angry at me after I had thrown back the money at them and yelled mocking words at them, that they had tried to get back at me by beating me to a pulp. That time I got such a great adrenaline rush that filled me with an urge to see blood. I was so angry the chamber inside my chest was on the brink of exploding. The steam gushed out so violently I couldn’t control it. Someone had to get hurt so that the chamber inside me would survive. I wasn’t an easy catch for the brutes because of my small size and it ended with the three recruits brought to the infirmary with deep wounds inflicted by me from plate shards and knives from the tables. I of course got two weeks in the arrest for hurting them like that, but was released after the truth about the three recruits violating me came out.

After that I got more respect than I had ever gotten in my entire life. I had fought against the three idiots in front of hundreds of people. Those little “soon to be soldiers” got scared of me after the little show I put on for them in the canteen. The rumors about me getting the three strongest guys in camp down to the ground spread faster than wildfire and after that I got more respect from the other recruits and officers in the camp. I worked even harder and trained so hard that I managed to not come last to the finish line during training. I didn’t want to end up being pushed down by other people, and that thought alone motivated me enough to become mentally strong to change my personality more and more.

After a while I started to get attended by others in the camp with small tokens of their so called love to me, and it soon ended with me being in the center of the camp. I even got presents from female recruits but those I didn’t care about. Females are so uninteresting and boring. I get shivers when I think about a female body. Males are the superior gender no matter what anybody says and I had my eyes set on the handsome male recruits.

I got attended so much that I got proud. Finally people in the camp recognized me as the strong and beautiful person that I am, and I began to lie to get more attention. I loved all the attention I got and it made me feel like the king of the world. My mental health made me a lot happier. The chamber inside my chest was emptied of steam and I could finally relax a little.

I began to feel very sexually attracted to the guys in the camp as my personality slowly evolved stronger. If I think about it a person wouldn’t normally still continue with the sexual activities after they had gone through a hell like I had, but the recruit who had found me after the rape and helped me to the infirmary  appealed to me in a weird way. He had been following me around for the whole time we had been in the camp and I allowed him to come closer to me. After about two weeks he had tried to get me into bed, and at first I wasn’t willing. I got surprised that he didn’t force himself on me and I got naturally relaxed around him. I learned that his name was June. I gave him my new and still secret name Lullaby, and at first he was confused about the name I gave him because he knew my birth name – but he accepted it quickly. He was the very first one who I introduced myself to as Lullaby.

After a few more days we and three others got the order to clean up the armory, but the three who I didn’t care about just cleaned for an hour and then left. It was just me and June in the armory and June immediately came closer and hugged me from behind.

“What are you doing?” I asked him with my body stiffening. I still hated body contact. It made me scared and disgusted. But June had just chuckled and buried his nose into my neck and kissed it.

“We are all alone in here,” he had said. I knew what he wanted and at first I wasn’t willing to give it to him at all.

“Yeah, I know. And we got an order to clean up the place. The other idiots just left,” I said and tried to push him off of me, but he refused to let me go and I leaned back against him and sighed. “Let go of me, or are you going to force yourself on me too?”

“No, I’m not going to force myself on you. I’m going to make you want me by seducing you.”

His cocky tone irritated me.

“Seduce? Make me want you? Don’t hold your breath. Or maybe you should so you’ll faint from oxygen loss and let me go,” I said with protest – but I wasn’t telling the truth really. His arms around my waist felt pretty good. He was just a little bit taller than me – we’re talking about just a few centimeters – and he had a similar body type as me too. He had brown hair and a lightly tanned skin and his eyes were golden brown.

“That’s so cruel of you,” he pouted but then smiled. “Yes, I’ll seduce you,” he whispered next to my ear and kissed the nape of my neck at the same time while his hands rubbed me in a seductive way. I wasn’t sure if I liked it or hated it. It was a very confusing moment for me.

For a weird reason I let him continue with his seduction but then realized that I wanted to seduce him. I didn’t want him to have me; I wanted to be the one to have him. I didn’t want to be hunted. I wanted to be the one who did the hunting.

“No, I’ll seduce you,” I whispered and then I worked my magic, and that’s when I turned the tables and everything was by my conditions and I had the control of the situation. His body made me feel so good I thought I saw stars in front of my eyes as I gave him access into my body. I couldn’t remember any time at all where I had felt that good during sex. The old man didn’t care about my enjoyment in the bed, and how could I enjoy that disgusting body of his? But this guy – June – turned my world upside down and I learned that sex could be very enjoyable. That’s when I made a 180 turn and began to love the feeling of a good sex and the control I had. I loved the feeling of me seducing someone. It made me feel powerful in some way. I wanted to have him inside me day and night. It felt so good I couldn’t believe it at first. Was I dreaming? No, it was all real.

It felt like suddenly a whole world of toys had been presented to me. In the beginning I didn’t know how to play with children’s toys because of my lack of stimuli and experience as a child, but I realized that during the years at the old man’s place I had learned a new way of playing. I hadn’t just realized it back then. As long as it was on my own conditions sex could be very entertaining and fun – and it felt good too. I later grew very picky about my partners, and I became very greedy in bed. My body became very needy.

Then the whole year of training had gone by and we were now sent to our first mission to a planet where heretic armies resided. I was on the vanguard with my heavy flamer as the main weapon. My mission in battle was to protect the troops behind me together with other heavy flamer users. June was in the group somewhere behind me. I was scared. In truth, as human I was very scared of dying. That was the only weakness left in me and it refused to go away. But after a few battles I learned to use it as an advantage to survive the battles. I had such strong will to live that I was scared shitless of risking my life in battles, but I was still brave enough to throw myself in there if I had to. And then it’s on the battlefield where the magic happens.

I have learned that when a creature fights for its life it is also the moment when the creature is the most dangerous – and humans are no exception. The stronger the will to live is, the more dangerous you get when you’re forced into a life-threatening situation. I’m glad I didn’t listen to those fucked up sermons to be proud of dying for the skeleton god; the oh so great Emperor. It makes the men weak and those little Emperor-loving ass licking bastards didn’t realize that. My fear of dying was also my greatest weapon. It surpassed all of my weapons I carried with me. It was even greater than my heavy flamer.

But now I’m a minor god under the name of The Dark Prince – also called The Prince of Pleasure – and because of that I’m immune to death. It was a very long time ago when I last felt the fear of death. If I as human was engaged in battles I felt bored and I would have rather sent someone else to do it for me. But sometimes I also got an urge to have some fun and play with a human. To cut the war prisoners open with spoons became a dear hobby of mine. To see their flesh being torn apart by that dull spoon was a very interesting sight and their screams still gives me goose-bumps of pleasure. My goal was the heart. The human heart is very small and fragile but still it manages to work so hard for so many years. To stop that beating is a thrill. To see it die… I can’t describe the feeling.

But anyway – back to my story!

During my first battle we were fighting against heretics who had settled down on another backwater planet. I didn’t understand why we had to kill them. Why did the Emperor want back a planet that he had forgotten? I couldn’t see any usefulness in the battles but I did as I was told and I made my first kills on the battlefield.

I was surprised over how easy it was to take a life. First I was scared of the dead body, but when I wasn’t blamed for it I got used to it and actually enjoyed it. It made me wonder why I had been scared of killing the old man during all those years in his possession. If it was this easy I could have ended my misery a long time ago.

During the first battles I felt like I was being imprisoned in the Emperor’s little world and just being used as a pawn until I died. To fight and die a meaningless death wasn’t something I wanted and slowly the pressure in the chamber in my chest began to fill up again. I was used as a worthless pawn in the Emperor’s big little plan to save humanity. But I didn’t want the humanity to be saved. It didn’t deserve it. I wasn’t saved from the horror I had been through. Why would I help the Emperor to save mankind? I hated humans and I still do. I had been forced into a horrific childhood where no one cared about me, been discarded two times like a piece of trash when I had outlived my usefulness, and then thrown into the army where I most likely would die a meaningless death. It was a perfect way to use a toy and then destroy it without taking any blame. Sixteen years had gone by without me being allowed to live at all.

My mind was corrupted and later a few months before I turned seventeen years old I talked to one of the prisoners who we had caught and asked her why she was a heretic. I realized she and I were thinking the same thing about the Emperor, and I got so curious about the possibilities of being a heretic that I ended up talking with her for hours every night before she was raped and executed by the men in the troop. Those hours I spent with her put a spore inside me and made it grow.

Me and June were still together but not in the relationship way – not according to me at least. Everybody from the camp who still lived was together like a troop. Many of us had died during the past year in battles and we were fused together with another troop who had lost many guardsmen too to build up a new troop.

I and June held us for ourselves and during the past year he had learned a lot about me and my past. I don’t know why but I had opened myself up to him during the times when I felt scared and hysterical because of the little chamber being filled with steam. It was like he was a relief valve letting out the unwanted pressure inside the chamber. But I had times where I didn’t even like to be touched. Sometimes the disgusting memories of the old man filled my brain and I couldn’t tolerate being touched. At those times I got hysterical and June tried to calm me down. His way of showing that he cared scared me and at times I broke down into a cry. I was so confused about him acting like that. Why did he treat me so nicely? Why did he care?

I was still pathetic at that time. At times I wasn’t strong at all and very immature. June’s way of caring made me feel safe and I opened up to him a little. I didn’t reveal everything but I gave him hints to what had happened so that he could understand my breakdowns. And the more he knew about me the more he showed he cared, and at times I got so scared that I thought of him like I thought of the old man. I wanted to hurt him for being a disgusting human when he held me during my breakdowns. I couldn’t trust him at all even if he hadn’t given me any reason not to. It had been my second lesson in life: Don’t trust anyone. Even in my stable moments I didn’t really trust him, but I did trust him enough to let him hold me during the nights in the tents where we slept during the field missions. The nightmares about the purple mist in the cave still haunted me at times but this time they were clearer than ever before, and I had somewhat stopped being scared of the face which emerged in the mist. It was still horribly beautiful and I still felt shivers down my spine, but I didn’t end up panicking. Slaanesh had been seducing me to his side all along during all these years, and finally I began to accept The Dark Prince.

Then my last battle as a guardsman came. I didn’t realize it first that I was dangerously corrupt and insane enough to become a heretic, but during the next war against heretics I was standing in the front line with my heavy flamer like always. Thoughts about why I had to do this for the Emperor and the worthless humans began turning in my head. I had a choice to either continue to war against the ones who I didn’t think did anything wrong, or then take a chance and for the first time do something that I felt was right for me.

That’s when I totally snapped. I wanted to take the risk. Without really thinking I turned around with my heavy flamer on the middle of the battlefield and directed it against my fellow soldiers, braced it and shot a sea of flames against them. As I saw my own men burn and heard them scream I began to laugh. I laughed insanely and I shot flames at them again and again. The men in my troop were so confused of me shooting at them that first they didn’t know what to do and stood there dumbfounded. Suddenly I was filled with pleasure. People screamed and burned around me as I laughed. I suddenly felt so relieved and free that the pressure in the chamber disappeared completely, and before I realized it I was fighting along the human heretics and their allied orcs and demons. I remember seeing June’s shocked and terrified expression in the crowd of desperate guardsmen and I wanted to kill him. He knew more about me than anyone else and he confused me terribly. And he was a human... He was better off dead I thought, and so I shot a flame against him too. His running figure is the last thing I remember of him before the fire from my flamer obscured my vision of him.

People died everywhere around me and as the battle was dying I was suddenly pulled along by a man who had a crazy look in his eyes. He was a heretic and seemed to be a leader. I followed him to where ever he took me and as we got to their camp I was interrogated of who I was and why I fought against my own people. I told him what I thought about the Emperor and what I felt, and I was immediately released and was welcomed into their spaceship to be taken away somewhere safe far away from the Imperial Empire. I was taken to a planet filled with heretics and for the first time I felt like home. This was the world where I belonged. Here I didn’t need to care about the Emperor and his little game where I would be a pawn amongst billions. Fuck that! I was free to enjoy my life freely and do whatever I wanted. That’s where I spent the remaining months to my eighteenth birthday and just a few days after that my real adventures from a human to a god-like being began. It was the dawn of the Lullaby – my true self.



Continues in: The First Verse of The Lullaby 
 

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