Doom Story Update

2k words

***

“Thanks for stating the obvious, Eva.”

An unhealthy cough drew his attention downward, Andreas’ bewilderment rising as the Baroness propped herself on her elbows, hacking into her fist as she struggled to form words.

“M-Minions!” she roared. “Stop gawking and assist me you cowards!”

“No one’s coming for you, lady,” Andreas said, her bright eyes fixing on him. “They’ve run off, you’re all alone.”

“You,” she snarled between coughing fits. Her next words were laced with venom. “You… weakened my hold on this place, decimated my forces, and bested me in front of my legions. Twice!”

It seemed her injuries weren’t as bad as they looked, the Baroness dragging herself to a sitting position, wiping dust from her eyes.

“I… am positively smitten.” She beamed up at him cheerily. “Where have you been all my life, Andreas?”

He shook his head in exasperation, this deamonette never gave up.

“Should I even bother wasting ammo on you?” he asked, gesturing at her ruined form. “If a bomb couldn’t off you…”

“I don’t know, maybe you have a bigger gun you can show me?” she asked back, revealing her teeth as she grinned.

A small breeze whistled through the ensuing silence, the call of a dozen dammed humans carrying upon the gale. The imps might have possessed enough reason to flee, but there were countless other zombies roaming the city, they’d be drawn to the explosion like moths.

“Just stay down, Baron, I’ve got other places to be,” he warned, but his words only seemed to make the demon more amused, the way she stared at him making him feel oddly vulnerable despite their circumstances.

Shaking his head again, he turned away, scaling the slope and checking he had all his gear, minus the knife. As he distanced from the crater and jogged deeper into the park, he heard the Baron call out from behind him.

“Unfortunately for you, I don’t! This is far from over, morsel. I’ll be seeing you very soon.”

-xXx-

Sharrya felt like she sat in that hole for hours, drifting on a sea of pain and humiliation as she mulled over the battle. Never on this mortal plane had she needed to wait for her wounds to heal, but the irksome little human had been fiestier than he looked, and his strength had called up a hint of caution several times throughout their bout.

She winced as her claws brushed the spot he’d run her through, that feeling of the razor edge driving itself into her stomach still fresh on her mind. Had he aimed just a little higher, this crater would have been her grave, yet the brush with death had made her feel so alive.

She should have been disgusted. A demon of her high standing wouldn’t let a mortal give her trouble. His kind were meagre beings, evolution chaining them to the role of subservience whether Hell possessed them or not, yet she didn’t feel the slightest hint of shame.

In fact, she’d never been so excited, each wound he’d inflicted blooming the thrill that came with battle. This human, this Andreas, had hurt her in ways that many other Baron’s had failed to achieve, and she found herself drawn to the secrets to his strength.

She craned an eye open upon hearing a scuffle of footsteps, her gaze drawn to the lip of the crater. Had her farewell taunt convinced him to come back and finish her off? She’d been so used to everyone bending over backwards for her amusement, she’d forgotten that there were those who possessed a spine.

“That you, morsel~?” she cooed. “I know I said I’d be seeing you, but would you care to give me a few more minutes? Can’t quite feel my legs at the moment...”

A figure rose over the humped terrain, and Sharrya’s grin flipped. It wasn’t Andreas, but one of her imp lackeys, walking over the slope on his knees and knuckles.

“Ah, if it isn’t my entourage,” she said, closing her eye. “Come to do battle after the fight has ended?”

“You live, mistress,” the imp stated in a crackly voice. “does that mean… the human…?”

Commanding her body to obey, she removed herself from her prone position, if only to save face in front of the demon. She dusted her chest off with a hand flick, humming to herself.

“I believe my orders were so simple that even your kind could understand,” she began, her tone sweet. “You were to assist me after I dealt with the human. So tell me, because I so desperately want to know, where were you?”

“M-Mistress.” The imp swallowed, his throat clicking. “When the blast… when we saw you fall, we-”

Sharrya was hurting all over, but she was on him in a second, gripping the imp by the throat, and hoisting him to her eye level, his mutated feet kicking impotently over the ground.

“I do not fall,” she growled. “I have never, fallen, and I shall never be, felled. Remove such thoughts from your peanut-sized mind, or I shall vent my frustrations upon you right this instant.”

“Apologies, apologies!” the demon pleaded, clawing at her hand as she compressed it over his throat. “We were wrong to ever doubt you, mistress!”

With a roll of her eyes, she dropped the imp unceremoniously to the ground, the imp barking like a dog as he landed hard. Imps were so easy to intimidate, it almost made her long for that temper of Andreas’.

As she climbed out of the pit, she saw she’d garnered an audience, the rest of her imp pack lingering around and casting her strange looks. They were afraid, that much was obvious, but their was also the palpable stench of doubt as well. Doubt aimed solely at her.

She considered slaughtering one of their number, but she could slay as many as she wanted, it wouldn’t erase the fact that this mortal had driven her back while he’d made an escape. Besides, she needed all the manpower if she was to correct this situation.

“You will move east from here,” she ordered, addressing each one in turn. “Spear into the city a short distance, then loop north and keep going. I’ll send another pack to mirror your movements, and together you will cut off the human’s escape route”

“You know where it’s going?” the imp she’d choked asked, sidling up behind her. “Without the nest, how can you be sure?”

More doubt. She’d be concerned if these animals were a threat to her.

“I don’t need a nest to know where he is going, you fool. Do a little deductive reasoning,” she snapped, casting her gaze northward. Over the tops of buildings, she could just make out the rectangular bastion of a tall, fortified wall, canons the size of houses lining the corners of the battlements. The fortress was one, maybe two days walk from here.

“Will you join us, mistress?” another imp asked.

“I will spear down the middle alone, make sure he doesn’t slip behind you,” she replied. “Plus, I have a headache, and your brainless questions are turning it into a migraine. Now move!”

The imps took off with a string of hisses and snarls, vanishing into the thickets. Now alone, she allowed her composure to slip a little, nursing her arm as she faced the recess below. Just what had he thrown at her that caused such devastation?

She turned her nose up at the crater, catching a whiff that reminded her of… home? Had the mortals weaponised Hell’s essence? Was that even possible? She knew of only one human that had braved her dimension and lived, but that had been long before she was born, and had ended in his ultimate capture in memory served.

Incursions into Hell were hardly worth concern, but that nagging doubt that these humans weren’t so defenceless hung in the back of her mind. Using Hell’s own resources against the legions was a scummy, yet ultimately bold strategy, and she wondered what other weapons this Andreas and his kin had in store for her.

This hunt of hers had garnered a new level of intrigue, and Andreas would answer her queries whether he wanted to or not.

-xXx-

Andreas missed his bowie knife. The numerous stabbing implements he kept on his person did the job well enough, but they were butter knives compared to the machete-length blade. Cutting the demons down without it just didn’t feel the same, and he’d earned a few scratches trying to grow used to the loss in range besides.

He'd reigned back his use of his plasma rifle and pistol, hoping to create less noise and keep the Baron from guessing his location, as he was still within her hearing range. He was confident another of his ‘Argent gambits’ – as Eva had put it – would put her down again, but the demon would be ready for it this time, and the fact remained he was supposed to safeguard the shards, not use them like grenades.

After twenty or so minutes, Andreas emerged onto the far side of the park, the tall buildings and the narrow streets promising more cover than the alien flora did. There was a mixed group of zombies and imps that happened to be lingering nearby, Andreas taking a knee and giving them a wide berth – much to Eva’s relief.

“You need to rearm,” the AI started as he ducked into the nearest street, proceeding up the northern turn. “If that Baron tracks you down, another melee is not going to good for either of us.”

“I handed her ass on a platter,” Andreas replied.

“That’s not the way I remember it, and I record and analyse everything you do. If you hadn’t gambled your life on the most volatile material known to man, you’d have perished back there.”

“It worked, didn’t it?” He shrugged his shoulders as he moved into an alleyway, leaning on a flesh-free wall to collect himself.

“I wanted to ask you about that,” Eva said. “How did you know a bolt would cause the shard to implode? What if it ricocheted? What if the blast radius was bigger than you thought?”

“It was a risk I had to take,” he admitted. “Like you said, I would have perished otherwise.”

“All the best computation power humanity can provide, and I’ll never figure out your brazenness, Seargent,” she sighed. “You keep chancing death, Andreas, and one of these days, death’s going to chance you.”

“If he does, I’ll have to ask him what took so long.”

“Lack of mortality aside, the fact you need better armaments still stands. You saw how she brushed off your bullets. If other Barons come looking…”

“Well if you see any gun stores around, let me know.”

“I can do you one better,” she replied. “I sent signal through to the Rallypoint and brought them up to date with our predicament.”

“They sending out support?”

“Not exactly. They’re under orders to hold for our arrival, as you’re aware. I’ve assured the base commander we’ll be there in due time. She’s pretty impressed you took out that nest, by the way. The garrison’s seen a surge of moral after the news broke.”

“I’m sure my mom would be proud. So, what’re they doing to help us?”

“Before the city was lost, there were several safehouses dotted throughout the city. The military used them as staging posts to launch attacks and to stash supplies for patrols to refill on ammo. See where I’m going with this? One such cache is not far from us, and from what I’ve gathered they stored very big guns there.”

“Very big, huh?” he asked. “Good thinking, Eva.”

“See? I’m not just a pretty voice. Marking the location now.”