To Error is Human
The Name of My Sins
WS – 45
BS – 30
Str – 34
T* – 36
Agi – 38
Int – 30
Per – 36
WP – 38
Fel – 31
The Name of My Sins
A person is shaped by the memories they have, they become who they are because of the series of events that make up their lives. In that respect, a person is merely a string of memories residing within a fleshy prison called a body. But what is a person who has no memories? How can they function day to day, or exist in the first place? The key factors that made that person a person no longer exist… In essence, a person with no memories is nothing more than an empty shell, a beautiful doll who stares out at the world with hollow eyes. There is but one hope for these damned creatures, a chance to build new memories, a chance to become a person gain…
“Angel live, they never die. Apart from us beyond the sky. Their blazing souls have turned to ice, so ashen white in paradise.” – Rammstein
The darkness was overwhelming, the absence of light became a tangible entity that weighed down with the force of a thousand pounds of solid earth. It was suffocating, gasping for breath, yielding little in the way of oxygen. The darkness filled the lungs, chocking out any air that made its way into those oxygen started lungs.
Noises, sound, mumbling. The inaudible speech broke through the darkness, sending its wicked tendrils back into the shadowed recesses of the mind. What was this saving grace? Who had pulled her from the brink of ultimate despair and the eternal abyss that threatened to swallow her whole?
A flutter, a skip, a chill ran down her spin as she felt eyes upon her. Willing herself to respond, she opened her eyes and stared up into a myriad of lights and colors that danced about to some song that she could not hear. The sudden change from utter darkness to brilliant light left her eyes watering, she had to blink a few times before they stopped and she could look around. Her green eyes roamed around, taking in what she could as she laid on her back.
“Wooooh. Would you look at the size of those fun bags.”
What!? She thought to herself as the man spoke. She couldn’t quite remember what his term had meant, but she had a feeling it wasn’t something someone would say in normal conversation. And speaking of which, she couldn’t quite remember how she deemed something as normal conversation.
“I believe this one will suit your needs well.” A hooded figured said as the woman sat up to look around at her surroundings.
Casting a glance around the room, she found it to be massive, filled with numerous alien apparatus that she could only imagine was used for. Large tanks filled the room, a few men in dark grey and black robes surround the numerous tanks. Of course the men in the room wasn’t what worried her at first. It was the bodies that were suspended in the tubes that captured her attention. She saw men and woman of every shape and size… and in any state of repair… or disrepair.
Pulling away from the sight of the surrounding room, the woman examined her own immediate area. She sat on a metal table, which was suspended over a large rectangular vat of greenish colored liquid. The faint glow captured her attention, it seemed oddly familiar. Could this of been where she was? She didn’t have much of a chance to think about it, the man in black robes called to her attention.
“Your name is Claire, do you understand?” He said. Claire couldn’t see the man’s face, for it was hidden behind a plain silver colored mask. She nodded in response.
“Don’t worry love, Doc, will take reeeaaalll good care of you.” The strange man announced as he bent over to take a closer look at Claire. He wore red and white robes with many different baubles and instruments strung about and off his wide belt. His eyes seemed twitchy, Claire could easy see that something definitely “off” with Doc.
It wasn’t long after Doc and the masked man left that she was escorted away from the chamber. Every step she took, her eager eyes darted here and there, taking in every sight she could. Like a dry sponge, she soaked even the tiniest piece of information as they made their way to her new “home”. It was a small cell, one of many along a long corridor. One of the escorts turned to her as they opened the door. “You can rest here for a short time, you’ll begin training tomorrow.”
Finding herself alone in the tiny cell, with only a rough cot as her companion and the symbol of the Imperium , Claire had time to reflect on all that had happened in the short time she could remember. She knew how to walk, she understood the speech the people around her spoke, she even knew what the double headed eagle stood for. But how had she come to be in such a place? As she tried to conjure up the memories, she was only met by a deep blackness, an emptiness so vast that she reeled away and found herself clutching at the cot beneath her nails. No… it was best to forget, it was best to move on.
Claire laid there on her side, listening to the sound of her own heart, the steady beats seemed to comfort her. However this comfort was not to last. As the hours wore on, the stillness began to gnaw at her like tiny claws digging into her mind. The quiet was too much for even her own heart to keep at bay. There! Something darted in the corner of her eye, some dark shadow hid from view as she tried to catch sight of it. There it was again, some movement to her right. Claire sat up on her cot and scooted into the corner and drew her knees up against her chest. A cold draft tickled across her flesh, causing goose bumps to emerge on her pale flesh. She tried to hide behind her hair, hoping the vale of snow white locks would keep her from seeking the shadows that danced around her in mocking fashion.
Alas, it was too much. The dead silence, the cold air, the absence of any real light, it set into motion some primordial fear that tore its way out of Claire and burst throw with a shriek that would have made a strong man cringe. The rapid pounding of her heart was drowned out by the fervent pounding of the door. Claire rapped her tightly clenched fists against the cell door, she screamed for help…. Ironically this was the first thing she had said since waking up in the large chamber
It wasn’t long till a pair of guards of opened up the door, guns pointed at whatever may be the source of this panicked outbreak. Claire fell to the ground at their feet, her body shaking and hot tears streamed down her pale cheeks. The light of the hall chased the darkness away, the warmth of the guards bodies banished the cold, and finally their inquiries slew the quiet that plagued her mind.
“Don’t put me back…” She said, looking up at the guards. “I can’t stand it… the quiet… the darkness… Please don’t put me back…”
And thusly, a few modifications were made to accommodate Claire’s “unique” quirks. She was granted a small light beside her cot and music was wired into her cell. Of course, the music was religious chants, all of which helped to blossom an admiration and love for the Emperor. The next day brought a new memory to Claire. This was muscle memory.
“Here… take this.” The trainer said. He was a gruff man, many scars riddled his body. A large sword was handed to her. It felt so familiar it took her little to excel through the training course that had been set up. This continued for a few weeks. Intense training with the massive blade and learning the Imperial Creed. The exercise was a welcome to Claire, she loved the feel of heaving the giant sword around and cleaving through the dummies that been set up. This is how it was supposed to be. She knew in her heart that she was meant to wield a weapon in the name of the Emperor, to proclaim his glory to the masses.
A few days later, after the majority of her training was complete, the trainer called her over from the free weights she had been lifting to strengthen her arms. “Claire, it’s just about time that you left. Someone’s here to see you.”
Claire was then introduced to the person would then decide the rest of her fate. “Hello Sister Claire. My name is Dagger.”