Write about an incident in which you had to leave a place you knew well.

On Necromunda there are many strange creatures, but also strange people, people with psychic abilities. It could be just little things like being good at cards by sensing the opponent's hand to extremely powerful abilities like telekinesis or ignighting someone at will. Karloth Varlos was one such person he could sense the thoughts of others, which gave him endless nightmares. Their thoughts pounded at his consciousness like waves against the shore.

Karloth loved his home it wasn't the best place to live but it was home. Karloth didn't want to leave but he had to, the endless pain was too much for him, so he waved goodbye to his previous home and ran away to the underhive.

Alone amidst the crawling horror of the badzones Karloth foraged for a few miserable morsels of food he was pursued by relentless plague zombies, a pack of shambolic carnivores hungry for his flesh. Karloth ran until his feeble body could carry him no further and the foul creatures set upon him, worrying at his flesh like dogs. Karloth could sense the dim, sluggish minds of his devourers, their thoughts made jagged by instinct but still simpler than a child's.

Fired by the strength of desperation Karloth drove the zombies back with an effort of will, quelling their killing instincts so that they stood by. He lay there crippled and helpless with the zombies all around him as the zombie plague they carried ate into his brain. Hours passed but somehow he clung to the thin thread of life by exhausting his remaining power to the plague zombies so that he could survive. In time the plague won through and Karloth thought why did he leave home?