【战锤40k同人作品翻译】 Ennui 第一章:空虚 Empty(2)
I am empty.
即便在此,在我的竞技场浸血的沙砾中央,我也没有任何感觉。曾几何时,数百万人横尸于此的腥臭气息,杂糅着他们受尽折磨的灵能残渣和枯竭灵魂回荡的哀嚎本会令人欣喜若狂。
至少,这本会些许触动我的灵魂。
现在它们只是纯粹的噪音和臭味——空洞无物,风味全无。
我又深呼吸了一次,空气中充斥着血腥味。
Even here, resting in the midst of the bloodsoaked sands of my arena, I feel nothing. Once upon a time, the gore-stink of the millions of deaths spent in this place, combined with the psychic residue of their torment and the echoing screams of their drained souls would have been something to exult in.
Or at least it would have moved my soul in some manner.
Now, they were simply noises and smells, empty of meaning and devoid of flavor.
I took another deep breath, the stink of blood rich in the air.
蒙难的瘴气充斥着恶名远播的钻心教派(Cult Cruciatrix)的剧院,支撑着我的同时令我作呕。这种感觉好似在嘴中塞满骨灰并缓慢咀嚼到只剩一团充盈着唾液的沙子再吞下,直到肚子几乎被产生的粪便撑破。
“伊莎莱(Isarae),为…为什么…,” 一个气若游丝的声音让我瞥向一边,我的教派里的一名巫灵居然仍在作垂死挣扎。
那双罩在同样残破的双手上的九头蛇护手(hydra gauntlets)在她试图接入其中的异次元武器以求杀死我时不住地抽搐。
“因为,艾丽西亚…,”我平淡地回应着,同时从我原先蹲伏的位置向她接近。我的剃刀连枷(razorflail)拖过沙地,嗡嗡作响地在尘土中穿行。
“因…为?”
The miasma of agony filling the infamous theatre of the Cult Cruciatrix sustained me and disgusted me. It was like filling my mouth with ashes and slowly chewing until they were nothing more than a spit-filled paste of grit, and then swallowing until the resulting muck filled my stomach to bursting.
即便在此,在我的竞技场浸血的沙砾中央,我也没有任何感觉。曾几何时,数百万人横尸于此的腥臭气息,杂糅着他们受尽折磨的灵能残渣和枯竭灵魂回荡的哀嚎本会令人欣喜若狂。
至少,这本会些许触动我的灵魂。
现在它们只是纯粹的噪音和臭味——空洞无物,风味全无。
我又深呼吸了一次,空气中充斥着血腥味。
Even here, resting in the midst of the bloodsoaked sands of my arena, I feel nothing. Once upon a time, the gore-stink of the millions of deaths spent in this place, combined with the psychic residue of their torment and the echoing screams of their drained souls would have been something to exult in.
Or at least it would have moved my soul in some manner.
Now, they were simply noises and smells, empty of meaning and devoid of flavor.
I took another deep breath, the stink of blood rich in the air.
蒙难的瘴气充斥着恶名远播的钻心教派(Cult Cruciatrix)的剧院,支撑着我的同时令我作呕。这种感觉好似在嘴中塞满骨灰并缓慢咀嚼到只剩一团充盈着唾液的沙子再吞下,直到肚子几乎被产生的粪便撑破。
“伊莎莱(Isarae),为…为什么…,” 一个气若游丝的声音让我瞥向一边,我的教派里的一名巫灵居然仍在作垂死挣扎。
那双罩在同样残破的双手上的九头蛇护手(hydra gauntlets)在她试图接入其中的异次元武器以求杀死我时不住地抽搐。
“因为,艾丽西亚…,”我平淡地回应着,同时从我原先蹲伏的位置向她接近。我的剃刀连枷(razorflail)拖过沙地,嗡嗡作响地在尘土中穿行。
“因…为?”
The miasma of agony filling the infamous theatre of the Cult Cruciatrix sustained me and disgusted me. It was like filling my mouth with ashes and slowly chewing until they were nothing more than a spit-filled paste of grit, and then swallowing until the resulting muck filled my stomach to bursting.