Geshtinanna

Welcome to the page of the most fucked up thing /tg/ has created. And by mere chance I might add. When a certain Inquisitor made a thread for creating a daemon, it kinda went out of hand quickly. The numbers of the last post was 16688666. 66, 88, 666. The last one need no explanation but the two doubles were the numbers of Khorne and Slaanesh. The ensuing mayhem was nothing short of hilarious but thanks to the efforts of a few, Geshtinanna in all her unholy glory was made. Pray for a quick and easy death when facing Geshtinanna.

What is Geshtinanna?

Geshtinanna is a Daemon-Princess of Chaos Undivided. With the blessings of all four of the Ruinous Powers, her power is almost unrivaled in the material realm. Geshtinanna, Lady of Desolace, Recorder of Hell, the Faceless Horror, Princess of Destruction, Bringer of Oblivion, Faceless Princess of Chaos. Her titles are many, to say the least. Geshtinanna has taken unto her a human (or once human) herald, a man named Israel. Those who wish to harm the daemon princess by attacking her herald beware: none have face such terrible wrath at Geshtinanna's hands as those who inflict harm upon Israel.

History of Geshtinanna and revival

In ancient days past the reckoning of the Imperium of Man, there was a tower. Constructed by mankind, this obelisk unified them in the heart of a place then known as "Babylonia." But the tower, and therefore those under its thrall, secretly served a dark master, an entity from beyond the veil of the material realm.

Geshtinanna was the entity's name, her origins surrounded in mystery. This thing made of mankind her slaves, twisting them, reshaping their minds and bodies like malleable clay until they resembled something that pleased her. It was only after many years of Geshtinanna's tyranny that one came to her realm that would not bow. This man, who we now know to have been the Emperor incarnate, cast the daemon down and liberated her thralls. So great and terrible was His fury that He rent asunder the veil between reality and the Immaterium, cast the daemon into the void and sealed it fast. But Geshtinanna would not be so easily overthrown and forgotten. As she spiraled screaming into the Warp, she bestowed upon humanity a "parting gift," shattering the bonds of brotherhood and unity they had built by splitting mankind's one tongue into many. Her laughter at the confusion and dismay this sowed can still be heard faintly throughout the Immaterium. Long was she sealed away, the universe safe from her depredations, until one man, one fool, set her free:

A sanctioned Imperial pysker named Bob. Yes, Bob.

After foolishly ingesting the psychotropics given to him by a Slaaneshi cultist, he fucked a goat. Two times, in both holes. Then he killed it, ate it raw and anointed his junk with its blood, thus falling under the sway of the Ruinous Powers (it is suspected that Slaanesh, Prince of Decadence, had a large role in this).

As punishment, his Inquisitor (Roland Kadsirin) decided to use the acolyte as a vessel through which to summon and bind a daemon of the Warp to his service. The Inquisitor couldn't hold back the power of the daemon, however, and it ravaged poor Bob. Bob's flesh began to be malleable, constantly shifting, limbs and horrible screaming faces pushing to the surface before being reabsorbed. Two great horns burst from the skin on his forehead, curling menacingly like those of a ram. Long, avian quills erupted from Bob's nightmare form, covering him in a sleek black coat of oily feathers. Whatever was left of Bob then mercifully perished, the daemon leaving no room for him in his own body. The corpse, sensing the absence of its erstwhile master, began to molt and rot horribly, and at an alarming rate. Perhaps even more terrifying, despite all the rending changes wrought upon Bob, his face was simply... Removed. Where mouth, nose, eyes and ears once were, his skull was clothed in a smooth layer of unbroken flesh.

While Bob's transformation continued, things began to... Happen. Things which bend and threaten to break ones sanity. First, the blood that now coated the floor began to drip upward and pool on the ceiling, as if gravity itself abhorred this place of daemonic birth. Liquefied metal and rust begin to ooze from the walls before mixing with the blood pools on the ceiling. Spiderwebs of frost began to spread outwards from where Bob was standing--nay, floating now, as the temperature in the immediate vicinity of the daemonhost plummeted. Finally, at the edges of perception, a person could hear something moving. Whenever one would try to focus on it, listen to it, it would stop, as if listening back.

The thing that was once Bob approached the steadfast Inquisitor Kadsirin. Not to be intimidated, he turned a steady gaze on his erstwhile servant.

What an awful mistake.

The thing laughed as it boiled the Inquisitor's eyes in their sockets, lifting him from the ground and suspending him in midair by sheer force of will. Unable to scream, the Inquisitor merely chokes and gurgles on the surge of blood now pouring from his mouth. Now barely an inch from his face, and despite the featureless mask that was its face, the thing was unmistakeably smiling. Then it spoke; not with a traditional voice, for it has no mouth. No, the daemon instead violates the sacred boundaries of one's mind, raping the mental defenses and seizing control of one's own inner voice, its words echoing violently in a person's head.

"Hello, little thing. Such a precious little thing. I am Geshtinanna."

The thing taps its talon on the Inquisitor's nose, almost playfully. The effects, however, are far from it. Beginning at the point of contact, the Inquisitor's flesh violently peeled off from his body, exposing the blood, muscles and bones below. His mouth opened in a noiseless scream.

And it was thus that Geshtinanna returned to the material realm.

The Creation of Israel

"What are you!" cried the Guardsman before being wiped from existence. A small cloud of crimson was all that remained of him. At that same moment another guardsman's eyes boiled. Then one clawed at his own throat out and the one next to him simply shot himself in the head. The whole squad was either wiped clean from existence or had killed themselves out of madness except one, one very unlucky man. This man was smart though. He had his eyes shut, tighter than he had ever kept them. The daemon-host slowly moved towards him until it was looming over the man, looming over him like the impending doom that was surely to come. She, or he, no it was more appropriate, was allowing him to live. Geshtinanna whispered to him, breaking into his mind like a battering ram, "Open your eyes pretty little thing." The guardsman shook his head. He could not even comprehend doing that. He knew he would be reduced to nothing the moment he opened his eyes. He spoke back in his mind, either out of defiance or in the vain hope of receiving mercy, "Tell me, what, what are you called."

The daemon played with the thought in her head for a moment, then replied, "Uttering my real name would kill you in your current shape. Little thing. Now answer my question, what is your name." The guardsman didn't know what to say. This was a sick game he knew it. But he answered the daemon for he feared what it might do if he didn't reply quickly, "Tammuz, Tammuz Israel."

"I hate that word, Israel." The guardsman curled up, crying now. "Why do you lament Tammuz?" The guardsman replied, "Because your going to kill me right? That's what you did to my friends." If the daemon possessed lips it would smile, "I have much, much greater plans for you, pretty, little, thing."

Geshtinanna slowly moved her finger with delight towards Tammuz. Tammuz, was helplessly trapped between death or worse. Fear gripped him, and he just laid there while the daemon moved towards him. Then Geshtinanna spoke to him again, "I'll make a deal with you, either I kill you now, or I make you mine." He didn't know what to say, or what the hell she meant by, "make you mine." He replied to her, "Make me yours, I just, I just want to live." Geshtinanna touched the poor soul's forehead, starting the process.

At first there was nothing. Tammuz heard only his own heartbeat, racing like a warhorse's. Tammuz was then lifted up, two feet from the ground. He wasn't able to move a muscle. Erupting around him from nowhere was purple, turquoise, and black flames. The flames burned him with the heat of ten suns, but his flesh remained by the will of the daemon. The blistering pain he felt all over his body was nothing to what came next. In the tongues of nine hundred ninety nine thousand different languages countless people cried for death's release in his mind. The voices drove him mad, then sane, then mad again. Now, few know this tale, fewer still understand why Geshtinanna does this, but none know why what happened next transpired.

He didn't break. Unlike all others, he held on to life. His will, shouldn't have, couldn't have, been strong enough. But strangely it was, and that is why Geshtinanna decided to spare him. She spoke to him as his mind settled with what just happened, "This, this is interesting, my, pretty little thing." Tammuz took a moment to respond, still rocked with the pain and mind warping, "What, what are you going to do with me." She changed her form to something more, accommodating. A simple form of a human female, though her face was still, nothingness. "You can look upon me without fear now, you've passed my test. Now, I have plans that need, your assistance. There some pesky people on a little planet that need, a warning."And thus the Herald of Geshtinanna, the Faceless Princess of Destruction, was made. Israel the Unyielding. Wherever he went, he told the people of coming doom. To end themselves now, before she arrived. He has been captured by the Inquisition and Alpha Legion several times, but each time she came for him. Leaving none alive.

Woe unto who that attempts to capture Israel.

The Litany of Geshtinanna

"Geshtinanna! Faceless One! Master of Madness! Grandeur of Change and Mistress of Ruin! Who can gaze upon thy majesty and live? No one! No one!

Geshtinanna! Your voiceless cries embrace all in madness! A thousand thousand throats wail your black rites! Geshtinanna! Bless us through the spent flesh of the deluded and the damned! Flesh and steel warp and tear at your command! Nothing can withstand thy will!

Geshtinanna! The Faceless Princess of Chaos, Winged Madness! Change is your creed, delirium your herald! All hail thee! Let all bear witness to thy passing!

Geshtinanna! Geshtinanna! Geshtinanna!"

The above is repeated until Geshtinanna appears to silence all those who chant this forsaken litany.

Inquisitorial Reports on Geshtinanna

File 1

Inquisitorial records from the archives of [REDACTED]

The subject is one Captain Augustii of the commercial freighter [REDACTED]. Interview conducted by senior Inquisitor [REDACTED].

[REDACTED] - Tell me, captain... How did you survive the events aboard your ship? The [REDACTED], was it?

Augustii - We... We were just on a routine supply run when--Emperor protect me--when I saw it.

[REDACTED] - "It"?

Augustii - Aye... It. She. It was like She was in my head. My helmsman also claimed to have seen it. That was when things started to go bad. We picked up an emergency vox transmission from the planet below. It was... Disturbing, to say the least.

[REDACTED] - Yes, we have prior knowledge of this phenomenon... Please, continue.

Augustii - I ordered the helmsman to lay in a course away from the planet immediately. By a fluke, I guess, we managed to slip by the Imperial Naval ships stationed in orbit. I wish we didn't slip by at all. It would have been better.

[REDACTED] - Yes, it would have. You have paid for your cowardice, as all cowards do.

++Heaving sobs, presumably from the subject++

Augustii - By the Throne. It didn't take long before, I guess one of the weaker crewman's mind broke. We never knew, couldn't have known, before we entered the Warp. Blessed Throne, all we wanted was to get away.

++More sobs, unintelligible exchange between Inquisitor [REDACTED] and the subject rallies him.++

Augustii - The heretic started screaming that all was lost and the Emperor was--was...

++Another pause.++

Augustii - He said that our God-Emperor was dead. I executed him immediately, but not quickly enough. He had already sabotaged the Geller field generator. They were everywhere. I gathered what men I still had, and we managed to hold them off long enough for the cogboy to fix the generator. They were saying something, over and over again, repeating it like a chant... A name. "Geshtinanna." When we re-entered realspace, we were right back at [REDACTED] and were picked up by the Imperial Navy.

[REDACTED] - Thank you. Do not fear. The Emperor's Holy Inquisition has found you to be free of the taint of Chaos.

Augustii - Y--you have? I mean... Thank you, my lord! Thank the Emperor! Thank the Inqui--

++A door opening is heard.++

Augustii - What?! I don't understand! You said--

[REDACTED] - I said you were free from the taint of Chaos. You are merely a coward, and for that will be provided the mercy of a quick death.

++A gunshot is heard, bolt pistol, Godwyn pattern.++

END OF FILE

File 2

Inquisitorial records from the archives of [REDACTED].

Subject is a surviving member of the 81st PDF Infantry Regiment of [REDACTED], which was sent in to contain what was initially believed to be a routine disturbance in the underhive. The subject's mind has been broken, and radically shifts between complete and utter horror at what he has done, and absolute, remorseless worship of the thing known as [REDACTED]. Interrogation conducted by senior Inquisitor [REDACTED] on [REDACTED].

[REDACTED] - I assume you know why you are here?

++Muffled sounds, possibly whimpering.++

[SUBJECT] - Ye--yes...I've seen something that should not be seen, should not exist... SILENCE!

[REDACTED] - Go on...

++More whimpering, the shuffle of chained feet.++

[SUBJECT] - Well... My regiment was holding a cordon around Hive Spire Tertius of [REDACTED]. There were reports of--GLORIOUS, UNLIMITED POWER.

++Here a voice (presumably the subject) yelps in pain, groaning as pain stimuli is implemented to maintain its focus.++

[SUBJECT] - No, no God-Emperor, please! Make it stop! I'm sorry--NO I AM NOT, BOW BEFORE THE LADY!

[REDACTED] - Your "Lady" is not here. If you presume that I will be cowed by a mere warpshadow of... "It," you are gravely mistaken.

[SUBJECT] - NYAAAGGGH! THE LADY WILL--Aaaahhhhh...

++Silence, heavy breathing.++

[SUBJECT] - I...I think I can hold it off...Emperor's Light! What has happened to me?! Emperor preserve and protect me!

[REDACTED] - Sadly, the time has passed for such pleas. No. You will not be saved, not be granted the mercy of death. You will live on. For study.

++Uncontrolled sobbing, footsteps. The slamming of a heavy door.++

END OF FILE