Doom Story Update

2k words

***

xXx-

Navigating the city at night was an unsettling task. The only light to see by came from the occasional streak of crimson electricity striking down from the low-hanging cloud layer, the resulting brightness as dim as a darkroom safelight.

Andreas’ night vision helped to offset the darkness, but navigating the endless back alleys and metal streets was even more difficult having to pick out details in the static green vision. If it wasn’t for Eva and her suite of sensors and markers, he’d be literally fumbling through the dark.

The moans of the undead echoed from down the next street, Andreas taking a detour to avoid the lurking demons. He’d never been one to shy away from a fight, but engaging these beasts in the dead of night was something he was dreading. Everything was so still and quiet, a single gunshot would bring all of Hell down on his position.

Such a thing hadn’t concerned him before, but he’d made a fool of Baroness Sharrya and her minions, he had to assume she was gunning for him now.

Hours had come and gone since he and the demoness had their little chat, but his thoughts lingered on it all the same. Since when did demons show restraint in their thirst for blood? Was she unique among demonkind, or did all Baron’s have bloated egos? Unique was one of few words he could describe Sharrya. He had never seen a female demon before, but she was just as imposing as her male counterparts, skirting ten feet tall and sporting more strength in her stomach than Andreas had in his whole body.

Despite her physicality, there was a certain streamline quality to her form, her curves more pronounced thanks to her upscaled features. He remembered how long her legs had been back in that office, how they were covered in a sort of wool or fur that was a deep brown colour, giving them a soft texture. Then there was her rucksack-sized breasts which he had found his eyes drawn to more than he cared to admit. She was one big woman. Shame she was a demon, she was nice on the eyes.

And a pleasant conversationalist, apparently, his thoughts turning to their chat. Whatever reason she had to prompt a lull in their rivalry was beyond him. He had quizzed Eva on that matter a couple minutes after the baroness’ had let him go, and her response had been less than helpful.

“I’m still trying to comprehend why you even entertained a conversation. She’s trying to destroy your world, Seargent.”

“Come on, Eva, weren’t you even a little bit curious on what she had to say? Who’s ever had a chit-chat with a demon before?”

“The circumstances were…. unusual,” Eva muttered, as though saying the word caused great effort. “But that gives you no reason to be so… flippant! Be careful what you say to her, the demonic will use anything they can do to string you along, manipulate you.”

“That’s not Sharrya’s style,” Andreas mused.

“Look! You’re calling her by her name! I’m detecting strong Stockholm syndrome signals right now. She’s your enemy, Andreas, don’t forget that.”

“Eva, how many demons have I killed?”

“Since I’ve made this helmet my long-term residence? You’re a few dozen from the eight-hundred mark…”

“If that’s not proof I know who’s my enemy, then I don’t know what is.”

“I suppose so. I’m just worried, Andreas.”

“You’re worried? I’m the one knee-deep in corruption behind enemy lines, Eva. At night, may I add! I’m about one zombie jumpscare away from shitting my britches.”

The AI chuckled, which seemed to relieve some of her tension. His too, by extent. Her voice was nice to listen to.

“But like I always say,” he said, pausing to jump across a deep split in the road. “I’ll handle it.”

Andreas marched on through the streets, his suit working overtime to keep him warm as the air temperature continued to drop by the hour. Eva’s markers kept him moving in the right direction. The more north he went, the denser the buildings became, growing taller and taller until Andreas was weaving between skyscrapers.

There was an odd lack of demonic presence in the area, despite him being close to the city centre. There was the occasional pack patrolling the roads or infesting the buildings, but far less than what Andreas had seen thus far. Strange.

He was proceeding through the lobby of a skyscraper, surrounding all sides by glass walls, when Eva hummed in thought.

“What is it?” he asked, holding his plasma rifle ready. “You got something?”

“On the contrary, I’m detecting a distinct lack of thermal signatures ahead. So far the corruption has made it difficult to filter out, but now it’s… absent.”

His boot echoing through the lobby, he made his way to the other side, stepping through a revolving door and back into the outdoors. Before him, a small ramp led down to a street, the road spearing below a highway overpass before continuing on between two rows of apartment blocks, their roof jutting over the road at various heights.

There was something a short walk down the street. Or rather, there was a lack of something.

Ever since he’d vacated the crash site, every other step was made upon pink flesh and mangled tendrils, but now this endless sprawl of corruption had stopped short all of a sudden. The flesh gave way to cracked, unimpeded concrete, the world beyond this threshold taking on a semblance of normalcy.

Andreas walked up to the visible barrier of demonic flesh, peering down at the rough line it made across the street. Upon closer inspection, he could see the glistening meat was receding, creeping along the ground in the direction he’d come from, making minute squelching sounds as the meat clenched in on itself.

“Is it… dying?” Andreas asked, looking up and imagining how many square miles the flesh must have covered. “How?”

“It’s because of you, Andreas. When you destroyed that gore nest, the corruption mustn’t have been able to sustain itself, and is wilting away. At this rate, this entire portion of the city will be cleansed in a matter of days.”

“Assuming old Sharrya-crazy-horns doesn’t plant another one, or however the fuck they make those things.”

“Judging by her strong reaction, the process must take up significant resources on Hell’s part. We’ve already seen a distinct lack of coordination in this district, so targeting Hell’s infrastructure may be a more efficient strategy in dealing with the invasion.”

The dying corruption left behind a ruinous landscape of shattered brick and rubble, but that didn’t deter Andreas from feeling a surge of hope. Almost eighty percent of the planet’s surface was covered in corruption, Andreas had not seen a blade of grass in months, but it felt good to know his efforts were having an impact, that it was still possible to reclaim everything that Hell had taken.

“Maybe we can win this,” Andreas muttered, stepping over the carpet of flesh, his boots making a satisfying clock as they struck pure pavement. Beyond him lay a scene like something out of an apocalyptic movie, but at least it was flesh-free. Even the skies had taken on a less oppressive feel, though that might have just been the gentle return of sunlight warping his vision. He’d been walking all night, and was dead-tired as a result, but even with the lack of corruption, sleeping out here was a danger he wasn’t willing to risk.

The drugs Eva was pumping into him would keep him on his feet for his next – and hopefully last – leg of his journey. He was getting closer to the heart of the city, and the Rallypoint by extension. Then his true mission could begin.”

Leaving the corruption behind him, he set off, weapons and gear jiggling with each stride.

-xXx-

“Seargent! I’m getting a transmission from the Rallypoint base commander. She wants to speak with you. It’s good news, don’t worry.”

Eva’s sudden voice startled him. Andreas had been walking with hours without any small talk or action, and it was starting to trouble him. Sharrya had made it very clear that he was on her shit list, she should have made a move at him by now. He liked to think the lack of corruption had made him harder to track, but he doubted the stubborn demonette would give up so easily.

Keeping an eye on his surroundings, he brought up his wrist display, tapping a gloved finger against the screen. “Alright, patch her through.”

“Seargent? Seargent Andreas? Come in, this is Commander Velaria, over.”

The voice coming through his speakers sounded like nails scratching a chalkboard, her accent suggesting she was a local. He could tell this woman meant business.

“This is Andreas, I read you. It’s good to hear your voice, Commander. Was getting lonely out here, over.”

“I can imagine, but I see you haven’t let it get to your head. Your AI tells me you’ve been keeping busy out there, doing what a battalion of my men could not. Wouldn’t have believed it if she hadn’t transmitted a video of you blowing that nest to Hell, if you’ll pardon the expression. Over.”

“All part of the job description, over.”

“Ah, you’re the humble kind of hero, Seargent? Normally I’d say I don’t need heroes, but morale around here’s now at an all-time high. Good thing, too. We were getting desperate before you ARC boys arrived. Over.”

“The rest of my section, did they make it to you?” Andreas asked, a touch of concern in his tone.

“Your men touched down just fine,” Valeria replied, Andreas relaxing. “It was just your ship that didn’t make it. What about your squad? What’s their status?”

“They didn’t make it. Pilot’s dead, too. I’m the last one.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Seargent. I know what it’s like, losing your men like that. I’ll see to it they’re buried with national honours when there’s time, you have my word.”

“Appreciate it, Commander. So Eva said you had some good news for me? We could use some right about now.”

“I’ve sent out a team to meet you halfway,” Valeria explained. “From their last check-in they’re about twenty minutes north of you. I’ve given their frequency to your AI, they’ll be in contact soon. Stay safe. Over and out.”

“It’s a good thing the demons haven’t targeted our satellite communications yet,” Eva noted as he lowered his display. “We’d be picking up nothing but dead air beneath all these buildings.”

“I was almost starting to forget what human contact felt like,” Andreas mused. “No offence to you personally, Eva.”

“Yes, you’re more familiar with demon ladies at this point,” she shot back.

Eva’s markers continued to lead him deeper into the urban sprawl, Andreas soon finding himself clambering over a short wall. He tossed his plasma rifle over, then climbed after it, soon finding himself on a stretch of highway. Following the overpass would put them in a beeline straight for Valeria’s reinforcements.

He followed the faded white lines through the condensed ghost traffic, the cars so crammed together that at times, he had to use the car wrecks as a substitute for the ground. It was liberating in some ways to be above the streets, but the view as anything but pleasant.

When the skyscrapers broke up enough to provide a view, Andreas was greeted with a destructive vista. Sights of the East were choked with demonic corruption, more gore nests no doubt concealed within the rubble. The sprawling ruins was nothing he hadn’t seen before, but there were details in the rubble that could only be viewed from a vantage. He could pick out crimson strokes in the earth, like giant paintbrush strokes carved directly into the city blocks. What he’d mistaken for ravines were actually parts of a greater symbol, spanning hundreds of square meters. It’s meaning was unreadable, but he didn’t have to be a cultist to know they were demonic in nature.

It was like looking at a crop circle from a plane, tens of runic characters chiselled into the city grounds, or on the sides of crumbling buildings.

As much as Andreas was eager to meet his backup, his legs were killing him, the Seargent pausing to sit on the hood of a car. There was an extendable straw in the lower left hand of his vision, hooked up to the suit’s water tank so he could drink without removing his helmet.

As he quenched his thirst, the hair on his arms stood up, Andreas overcome with the feeling he was being watched. Despite her state-of-the-art sensor suite, Eva only noted something was off a few moments later.

“There’s a spike in demonic energy below us,” she warned. “It could be coincidence, but…”

The implication was left hanging as Andreas glanced back the way he’d come, searching the cars for movement. All he saw was a couple bundles of paper scraping against the concrete.

He turned the other way, and nearly jumped out of his skin when something large and red climbed over the highway’s flank, Sharrya grinning at him as she stalked onto the road just ahead of him.

“If it isn’t my favourite Baroness of Hell,” Andreas greeted, pausing to swallow his drink. “We have to stop meeting like this.”

“Do not worry,” she replied sweetly. “Once I have you properly restrained, you won’t be anywhere but in my clutches, Andreas.”