"Welcome to my hunting ground, great Space Marine."
The hunched, twisted figure in deep purple gently clapped its mutated "hands."
Its blade and crab claw struck each other, producing a wet, sticky applause rather than a crisp clap.
Its voice echoed through the enclosed space, layered with countless overlapping voices, mingling mockery and greed with a "pleasure" that chilled the marrow.
With that ominous applause, several streamlined bodies shot out from beneath the overturned, bloodstained ornate chairs along either side of the hall and from the shadows of the gilded rafters carved with obscene patterns, moving so fast they left only afterimages.
There were three monsters.
They were loathsome creations, as though an anteater's long, hollow mouthparts, a scorpion's shell and curved stinger, and the suppleness and strength of some great feline had been forcibly twisted and stitched together.
They were Slaanesh Daemons, lesser servants of the Lord of Pleasure and Pain, brief manifestations of warp essence in the material realm.
Their smooth, chitin-armoured bodies shimmered with an unhealthy iridescence. Their barbed, jointed limbs ended in sharp hooked claws, while the tips of their sinuously moving tails bore not stingers but small mouths that opened and closed, dripping slime.
Most striking were their heads. Their anteater-like tubular mouthparts were not meant for sucking. They were now producing a sickeningly sweet "music" that was not sound at all, yet could directly disrupt nerves and emotions, seeking to burrow deep into the mind.
At the same time, a rich, complex, hallucinogenic fragrance seeped from the seams of their smooth shells, awakening the most primal desires and memories of pleasure as it filled the entire sealed space.
Clap! Clap!
Two more sharp claps rang out.
The purple figure raised the blade of its left hand and traced a line through the air.
In