Doom Story Update

2k words

***

“Who am I, Faith Conners? I don't jump off buildings, Eva...”

“You better be, because I’ve requested our good pilot friend for some support. This library will be coming down in about six minutes.”

“A little warning would have been nice.”

“I say that all the time about your deathwish plans. Now you know what it’s like. Better get going, Seargent.”

He waited for a break in the fireball volley, then made his move, firing over his flank as he moved deeper into the building, boots passing over hundreds of slips of paper gridding the ruined floor.

Pausing between two rows of bookshelves, Andreas took a kneel to reload his rifle, chancing a look over his shoulder as he heard heavy footfalls, their source unmistakable. Baroness Sharrya ducked beneath the entry arch, her tall horns grazing the threshold. Her sharp, demonic features darted in his direction, lips spreading in what might be a sneer or a smile.

“You talentless tacks!” she said, reaching back to shove a cowardly imp inside. “He’s right there, just hit him!”

The demoness drew an arm back, like she was preparing to throw a punch. Green energy coalesced between her fingers, and she chucked a firebolt the size of a basketball, the comet zipping across the lobby like a bullet. Andreas raised his rifle to shield him from the flames, the ball slamming with enough force to send him skidding back a few inches.

He shouldered his weapon, hosing down the entrance with plasma bolts, his weapon still functional. The Baroness darted right, escaping the barrage, but her imp followers weren’t so lucky, running straight into his sights as they followed their leader’s example.

Over ten of the demons were slumped in a pile by the door, but Sharrya was inside now, he couldn’t hold his chokepoint with her trying to get around him.

He swept the barrel of his rifle round as he fell back, trying to pinpoint her location. He could hear her footsteps, but the bookshelves were always in the way, arranged in grids that seemed to obscure as many sightlines as they opened up.

“You can’t escape~” she called out, somewhere to his flank now. “You’ve been marked for death the moment you meddled in my affairs. You should consider my offer, Andreas…”

“Stop talking shit and come out here.”

“As you wish…”

Something moved down the aisle ahead of him, Andreas bringing his rifle to bear. Sharrya was already tossing a fireball by the time he fired off a shot, the two broiling energies passing each other by as they headed for their targets.

The Baroness barked as the plasma bolt crashed into her shoulder, but Andreas voiced his own curse as her fireball found its mark in his stomach, the Seargent patting his rigging down as parts of the fabric were ignited. His combat armour could withstand intense heat, but her attacks hit like bricks, knocking the wind out of him.

He ducked behind the nearest shelf, sticking his rifle out and spraying the aisle with bolts without exposing himself. She threw another bolt that hit his cover, igniting the wood, Andreas cursing as he was forced to relocate.

As he made his way to the next aisle, an imp cut him off, the demon looking as surprised as he was as they rounded the corner at the same time. The demon made to swipe at him, but Andreas was faster, striking its chin with his rifle, the imp spinning like a top before falling. He put two bolts into the back of its head, then pressed on.

He knew Sharrya was three shelves ahead of him now, bracing himself as he heard her mirroring his movements. She wasn’t stupid enough to run out into the open, however, only putting her horned head into the open as she peered in his direction. When she spotted him, she ducked away, Andreas putting down suppressive fire, hoping to melt her cover away for a clean shot.

Her grunt carried across the library, the shelf she was hiding behind starting to list. It toppled into the aisle, its bulk colliding with the next shelf along with a loud thunk. The next shelf followed the first, a domino chain of destruction rolling down the building towards where Andreas was standing.

The Seargent dove out of the way, a second away from being crushed as the shelving units came crashing down one after the other. Somewhere behind him an imp hollered as it was caught in the path of destruction.

Keeping his shoulder to the next shelf over, Andreas moved along the next shelve. The constant rumbling was making it hard to pick out her footsteps and tell where she was. She could be flanking him and he’d never know.

Something on his HUD pinged, a marker appearing in the next aisle over. Eva must be using her sensors to give him at least a general direction of the threat.

“Hiding will not save you,” Sharrya growled, Andreas peaking round the unit to see her standing by the marker, head whipping from right to left. A short walk behind her was the far wall, with a door marked Exit signed above it. Another ping from Eva confirmed that was his way to the roof.

Letting his rifle hang in its sling, he wrapped an arm over his launcher, sending a canister towards the Baron’s flank, Sharrya turning on him as he compressed the trigger. Her hearing was sharp, as were her reflexes, which is why he aimed at her feet rather than risk a direct hit.

His night vision temporarily burned out as the blast turned every surface of the atrium yellow, clouds of dust rising from the impact point. Sharrya’s hooves were directed upward as she was sent tumbling back, hitting the ground with a sick crack that made even Andreas wince.

He dashed up the aisle, leaping through the swirling smoke. He used Sharrya’s backside as a jump board to spring himself through the smoke, for no real reason than to annoy her.

Before he could reach the exit, two imps moved to intercept him from the left and right. Each chucked a fireball his way, but Andreas dropped beneath them to a kneel, finishing them both off fire a spray of electronic gunfire, continuing on his way like nothing had happened.

Whether the door was locked or not, Andreas shoved his weight into it all the same, the door banging against the wall beyond as he moved through.

Andreas found himself in the library’s stairwell. One set of double backed steps went up, the other led down to the basement level of the building. Andreas rushed up the former, and a searing pain bloomed from the small of his back as a ball of flames kissed his rear.

He turned, gunning down a demon that had followed him through. As the imp dropped, his eyes locked with Sharrya’s, the demoness still laying prone where he’d left her. If looks could kill…

He jumped up the steps two at a time, pain lingering in the base of his spine. These hits were starting to add up, but he couldn’t stop yet. He paused his climb when he was directly above the door. A second later, and a conga line of wily imps were following in his wake, too bloodthirsty or stupid to realise he was waiting for them. Bracing from the hip, he swept his rifle from right to left, plasma severing the bodies of half a dozen imps before the demons knew what was going on.

Andreas trade fire with the demons as he climbed level after level, plugging the stairwell with bolts. He left scores of demonic cadaver in the wake of his ascent, the imps paying no thought for their fallen comrades as they continued their frenzied climb after him. This Baroness really wanted him gone if she was wiling to throw so many into the meat grinder.

“Andreas!”

Said Baroness’ voice was like a shriek of a wraith, her horned head appearing in the well.

“Cease firing rockets at me at once! You don’t know how hard it is to stay coruscate in the face of this dilapidated realm.”

“If only your combat skills were as broad as your vocabulary,” Andreas shot back. “You’d have offed me way sooner!”

He moved as fast as his legs would take him, soon reaching the last curve of the stairs. Pausing before the rooftop access, he brought up his launcher, angling it down the well. Every step was occupied by imps, dead or alive, the ones with more gusto leaping up the well from railing to railing like apes.

Andreas squeezed off three rockets in quick succession, blasting chunks out of the staircase at several different points. It wouldn’t slow the demons down all that much given their obvious athletics, but his efforts took down scores of the chaff, the shockwaves causing several more to lose their footing and tumble back to ground level.

Satisfied, he moved through the exit, dashing out into open air, the wind whipping at his helmet. The roof was barren save for a few air conditioner units off to the side, the grills and fans rusted and broken.

“The northern face, the one on the right,” Eva chimed in. “That’s where you need to jump. Two minutes until Shrike two-two is here, by the way.”

He tuned to the right, and as if on cue, the rotund body of a cacodemon rose from the lip of the building, a tongue the size of a dog sliding out to lick at its fangs. Like a hornet defending its nest, the flying demon zipped in for a low pass, a wet gurgle escaping its lips.

Andreas rolled out of the way, hearing the demon snap its jaws in the air. He produced his launcher in one smooth motion, aiming up as the demon turned about, making to swoop again. He fired off a rocket, square at its facea, the dumb creature too slow to get out of the way.

In fact, it actually split its maw open upon seeing the encroaching warhead, sealing its chapped lips over it and swallowing loudly. Whether it was hungry or just too stupid, Andreas couldn’t tell.

The detonation was muffled by its intestines, the cacodemon torn apart in a shower of red mist, chunks of its hide falling to the roof with tens of wet slaps, a few errant meat chunks plastering over Andrea’s crouched form.

“Fuck me,” Andreas gasped, wiping his visor with a hand. “that was like a Death Star of red meat.”

The area clear, his boots clocked against the bitumen as he rushed over to the edge, resting a hand on a knee as he caught his breath. The next building over was a tier shorter than the library, separated by an alleyway four meters across. Its surface was occupied by skylight boxes, which should make a descent easy going, but he was getting ahead of himself.

He gulped as he peered down the sheer drop, vertigo making the ground stretch further away. Andreas wasn’t afraid of heights, but his palms began to sweat beneath his gloves all the same.

“You can make it,” Eva encouraged, no doubt reading his rising heart rate as a sign of hesitance. “-with a running start, of course. Come on, Seargent, that Shrike’s about to make a pass!”

Growling at the drop, he moved back a few feet, slinging his rifle over his shoulder as he prepared himself. Fuck, maybe he was acrophobic…

“Just try not to think about it,” Eva said.

“Easy for you to say, you don’t have legs. Or a brain!”

“And I’m still twice as smart as you! Jump, Seargent! That Baron is right behind you!”

The door he’d just come through snapped off its hinges, the streamlined body of the Baroness appearing through the frame. The intimidation factor was somewhat downplayed when Sharrya had to get down on her knees to squeeze through the opening, turning her shoulders until she was almost facing the sky.

She managed to free her wide hips with a pop, the Baroness grumbling to herself as she rose to her regel height.

“Nowhere left to go, Andreas,” she began, gesturing at him with a hand broiled with flame. “Seize him, my loyal subjects! Chain and collar him, so that he may soon know the vast punishments of crossing Hell!”

Andreas waited for the imps to come running, but they never did. The stairwell was the most serene thing he’d seen since the crash.

Sharrya spared the doorway a harsh glance, arm still beckoning.

“Any… time now, imps!” she called, her tone touched with hesitance. “Get up here at once, I have him cornered.”

When a moment of silence passed, she rolled her eyes, moving back to peer down the stairwell.

“Oh. You killed them all.”