The doll
You are almost finished in this planet.
All the human filth has been cut down to the glory of Khorne and you feel your bloodlust at the lowest level it had in 10,000 years.
Suddenly, a kid appears from below the ruin that it was once her home looks you in the eye and offers in the most kind way her ragdoll to you.
"Dun be angry no more you can has my doll" she says as she smiles in a kind-hearted way.Something in your innards starts to feel warm and funny...
WHAT DO YOU DO?
For a moment, irritated as I am by that blow to the back of the head earlier, I consider murdering her to quench the unceasing fire that burns within me. My hand, taught to war by Khorne and turned to slaughter by my hatred for the Imperium that would have held me back from my craft, twitches in anticipation of ripping her spine out.
But it does not. For in the back of my mind, something is holding me back. Like the catch in a combination lock, finally pressed into the final alignment, an old part of my brain begins to whirr, and click. The howl of Khorne fades, and for the first time in ten thousand years, my mind is silent.
And I begin to remember. So young I was, when first I held a weapon. My father had taught me to cut wood with an axe, a heavy maul with which to cleave logs in twain and stack cord upon cord behind our cottage. From the first winter I could walk, I was helping my father carry firewood to our home, to keep it warm in the frozen cold of winter. I was a good boy. A strong boy. But not strong enough to...
And I remember... that I am the son of a woodsman.
- slap-THWAK-chop*--EEEEEAAAaaaaahhhhhh......*drip drip*
I love this job.