Doom Story Update

2k words

***

“Oh. You killed them all. What about my cacodemon? I was sure I sent for one.”

She turned to give him a quizzical glance, Andreas pointing over her shoulder. She examined the radius of ichor spread across the roof, and voiced a solitary word.

“Bother.”

She made a snorting sound, then faced him once again, the impact of her heavy steps reverberating through his feet as she stalked closer. 

“Bravo, Andreas, I must command you on your combat prowess. It’s not every day I get to meet an opponent worthy of my time.”

“What’s with all the compliments?” Andreas asked, a part of him eager to delay the jump. “We’re at war.”

“Oh, I’m always at war with some alien race or other. I may be a warlord, but that does not mean I reject the fine art of conversing with a native. It’s the only thing that piques my interest these days.”

“How about me shitting on your parade this morning? Did that pique your interest too?”

She threw her head back and laughed, her generous bosom rocking in its sling.

“See? This is why I compliment you, Andreas. How’s that human saying go? ‘You walk the walk, talk the talk?’ I like that phrase, I must write it down once this is all over.”

“Don’t worry, you won’t be waiting long,” Andreas murmured. His eyes flicked above the Baroness’ head, noting a aerodynamic profile was defining itself in the clouds above.

His shifting gaze was barely noticeable, but Sharrya seemed to sense his change in demeanour, and she turned her back on him to search for what he was looking for.

That was his chance, and he was out of time. He bolted for the ledge, praying the demoness wouldn’t hit him in the back and send him tumbling to his death.

“What the-? Are you jumping you mad fool?” Sharrya called. She said something else, but Andreas didn’t hear it. All his focus was on crossing the gap.

Leading with his right foot, he planted his boot on the ledge, his toes dangling over the lip. He threw himself into freefall, trying not to look down as he let gravity take hold. He cried out a curse word as his arms whirled in circles, and for a horrible moment it looked like he wouldn’t make it, that he’d plummet to his own death right in front of the Baron’s eyes. A rather unceremonious end, all things considered.

His worries were in vain. Everything from the waist up collided with the adjacent rooftop, his weapons creaking as he pulled himself away from the edge. He flipped onto his back, glancing over the drop to see the Baroness glancing at him, her expression one of mild astonishment.

“Here’s a saying!” Andread called, flipping her the bird. “Eat shit.”

The howling din of a propulsion engine rose into providence, Sharrya finally taking note of the jet fighter diving in from the heavens.

“By the Maykyrs,” Sharrya groaned over the sonic screech. “Not again!”

The wings of the Shrike craft were rowed with bombs, and as the first pairs released form their couplings, Sharrya fell into a run with the same urgency as Andreas had. The jet screamed overhead, a grey blur that left a shimmer in its wake, his helmet automatically muffling the intense feedback of the engine.

The bombs arced through the air for only a second, touching down on the libraries roof. There was a short delay, and then the world was set alight, giant mushroom clouds projecting in synchronised rows behind the fleeing Baroness.

Andreas raised a hand to the scorching heat, watching through his fingers as the Baroness was lifted off her hooves. Whether this was by the shockwave or through the power of her giant legs, he wasn’t sure, but he could be sure of, was that her flightpath was bringing her right toward him.

He rolled to the side, Sharrya hitting his vacated spot with all the force of a dropped forklift. The rooftop of this building wasn’t sturdy enough to survive the weight of the demon, the Baroness yelling out as the surface caved in beneath her.

Andreas would have found the turn of events fortunate, if she hadn’t reached out and grabbed his leg, pulling him through the gap with her.

Gravity carried them into the building, where a second surface soon broke the Baroness’ fall. She formed a crater below her sprawled form, but the carpeted ground didn’t break. Sharrya wheezed as Andreas’ tumble was broken by her stomach, her abs like stones beneath his chest. As his glazed vision slowly cleared, he found himself inches from her chiselled stomach, her flesh slightly pliant beneath his hands. Demon or not, he had to compliment her on her workout regime.

“W-What are you looking at, mortal?” Sharrya sputtered, short of breath. Realising he was staring, he rolled off her stomach, falling a significant distance to the ground beside her. “Maykyrs, did you – ack – have to land right on me?”

“It’s your fault you fat fuck,” Andreas groaned. He was tired, his chest and arms burned, and now he was hurting all over thanks to this demonette’s stunt. As such, he could only manage to weakly slice her using his newfound cleaver, cutting her arm like he was spreading butter on a slice of toast.

“Ow! Bastard!” She delivered a siwft knee to his flank, sending him rolling away, his momentum carrying him into a cubicle wall. It seemed they’d fallen into some sort of office space.

Her energy depleted, Sharrya meekly used the opposing cubicle to lift herself to a sitting position. Andreas tumbled across the floor towards her, the Baroness rolling her eeys as he raised his cleaver.

“Can you not just give it up for five seconds?” she demanded, seizing his arm and shoving him back. “Damn it, I think that fall gave me a hernia…”

The next time he came at her, she planted her hoof in his chest, depositing him right back into the cubicle. This time he stayed down, pins and needles shooting up his limb as he raised an arm.

“Alright,” he groaned, staring at the gaping wound in the ceiling. Thick smoke trails rose into the sky from the libraries direction, curling at the top as the winds brushed them. “Alright,” he said again. “Time out.”

“That’s the least I deserve after being bombed all dammed day,” the Baroness huffed, her hands roaming to nurse her extremities. “Do you know how much of a toll it takes on the soul to heal such grievous wounds?”

“Cry me a river you demonic dickhead,” he muttered, reaching for his pack.

“So impudent,” Sharrya chuckled, lazing against the wall a she stared at him with those green eyes. She had no irises to speak of, no features, and he found it increasingly difficult to meet her gaze in the following silence.

“How did you do all that?” she suddenly began, ruing two claws together.

“What?”

“Who taught you how to fight?” she clarified. “Very few could stand up to so many legions and live. You fight with the ferocity of a Baron, and I would know how.”

“Are you for real?” he asked, the demon tilting her head in confusion. It must have been the tiredness talking, because he decided to indulge her after a thoughtful pause.

“I’ve been fighting ever since I was a security officer. Didn’t see much action until a couple subjects broke containment. Slew my first demon during the chaos. I evacuated my sector with minimal casualties, and someone up top took notice, cause next thing I knew I was offered special forces training.”

“Talk about a career jumpstart! What did you guard?”

“This base in the Carribean, formally it was UAC, but then…”

“Seargent!” Eva snapped, her sudden intrusion making him jump. “Don’t go giving away military secrets! You shouldn’t even be talking to her!”

She had a point, he had no business talking about his life with a demon. But on the other hand, who was to say he should pass up the chance to have said talk? He’d missed so many opportunities in his life, there was no need to add to it.

“-but that’s classified,” he finished. He fished out a vial from his kit, its contents clear, inserting it in a slot beneath his bicep. “Transferred to a special forces branch, but by then you lot from Hell had started opening up portals in our backyards, and the army was absolved. Point is, when fighting becomes your life, you eventually get pretty damn good at it.”

“I too, have been doing battle since memory serves,” Sharrya replied, resting her hands on her legs. The way they curled meters away from her just emphasised how huge she was. “The satisfaction of slaying one trying to do the same to you, nothing is quite so exhilarating. You should know, you have slain so many of my legions as of late.”

“Well,” he replied, unwilling to add more than that.

“Your tactics are certainly unusual,” she continued. “Rather than engage me directly, you employ hit and run attacks, relying on subterfuge and trickery for damage, using the shadows when things go awry. You are like a knife with legs.”

“And this is the part where you say I’m a coward and should fight like a real warrior?” he asked.

“On the contrary, I find your species’ ability to adapt spectacular. You are outnumbered more than you think, yet your world has not yet caved despite our predictions. Your stubbornness is only reinforced by your recent actions against me.”

“My friend Eva always said I had a thick skull.”

Sharrya chortled, touching a claw to her mouth as she composed herself.

“Funny little thing, aren’t you? And so stoic, as well. Most of my interactions with your kind have been met with either screams or bullets. I thought I’d never be able to talk with one of your kind.”

“And why are we talking?” Andreas asked. “You’ve been trying to kill me this whole time, now you’re suddenly down for a chat?”

“Technically not true. Have you forgotten who had to wait on that street while you retrieved your little rocket toy? You cannot comprehend how hard it is to find someone as interesting as you to converse with. You’ve seen how untalkative imps are, all they do is scream and cackle. Cacodemons are obvious, and don’t get me even started on my advisors. They can’t get two words out of their mouths without fawning all over me.”

“I feel so bad for you, really.”

“You see?” she asked. “You are so refreshing! No one has ever talked to me the way you do, Andreas. You don’t shy away from speaking your mind, even if it’s going to be bad for your health. Such confidence I’ve not seen since my… my…” She creased her lip. “You intrigue me, Andreas. So talk,

“Yeah well the feeling’s not mutual.”

“You know, I can get very angry when I don’t get what I want,” she said, staring him down from her formidable height. “What I’ve shown you so far? Holding back. You don’t want me to come over their and rip off your limbs, do you?”

Her tone was off-hand, sweet, but there was a deep hunger in her glowing, emerald eyes, one that made him all too aware that he was conversing with a higher demon of Hell. Her patience wasn’t finite.

“So talk with me,” she said. “Lest I think about throwing you through this floor as well.”

“Alright, crazy horns, I’ll bite, at least until this vial runs out, then we’ll pick up where we left off,” he said, tossing the glass away.

“Is that what that is? Some healing contraption?” she asked. “Do you inject it?”

“It’s administered through the suit,” he explained, wrapping his armour with a fist. “It’s lined with sensors and monitors that automatically detect what areas need treating to keep me on my feet.” He neglected to add in Eva’s role, for obvious reasons.

“Fascinating. I’ve not met a species quite so technologically advanced in the medicinal field. No wonder you’ve kept going this long.”

“These species, tell me about them,” Andreas said. “Are they… aliens?”

“I suppose anything outside Hell’s dimension is considered an alien. But what is there to discuss? They have all been conquered by my kin, they serve the legions now.”

“Did they look like little green men, like in the movies?”

“I know not what a movie is, but their descriptions aren’t so benign. Some had feathers, others scales, one looked a lot like a rodent, if I recall correctly. Whiskers and tails and what have you. Filthy things, they were.”

“And so you wiped them out? Whole civilisations, gone?”