Icon of Sin / Baphomet
Register | User Profile | Member List | F.A.Q | Privacy Policy | New Blog | Search Forums | Forums Home
Doomworld Forums : Powered by vBulletin version 2.2.5 Doomworld Forums > Special Interest > Creative Works > (Another) Doom Story pt. 3
 
Author
All times are GMT. The time now is 01:41. Post New Thread    Post A Reply
Tek
Junior Member


Posts: 148
Registered: 10-01


I don't know why I keep writing these things--there doesn't seem to be any public reaction. But hey, I'm not in it for popularity. Here's Part 3. If you read it, please give me your comments and suggestions for the next chapter. I like getting feedback.

(Another) Doom Story pt. 3


"Sir? Sir!" I yelled into the radio. There still was no answer. My colleagues were staring at me now, fear on their faces.
"They're gone," I breathed, stunned. What-the-hell ever had gotten the UAC employees had probably gotten Peterson and our pointmen too. Frederick frowned. Kirin looked away. Stevens cursed. Kosky went berserk.
"Shit, shit, shit, shit!" Private Kosky yelled. "What the fuck is happening?!" He looked around frantically, his eyes slightly twitching.
"Keep your head, marine!" Yelled Stevens. "Maybe it's just that interference that kept Nguyen from opening the door. Let's go back to the security station and check."
"Yes, let's," I replied.
Everybody agreed with him. Stevens always came up with the good ideas. That's why we were such good pals. We all started towards the security station when I heard an unnerving hissing noise behind us.
We turned around in unison to find some sort of creature leering at us, crouched and licking crusty lips with a long and rust-colored tongue. It was brown, covered in white spines. I smelled brimstone.
The thing stood up to its full height--a towering two-and-a-half meters. It was large and well-muscled, with burning red eyes--like a demon. When we turned around it emitted an ear-splitting roar that sounded like it came from the depths of Hell itself. It raised its clawed right hand at me, revealing a small hole in the palm which started to glow red hot, as if the flames of hell burned from within.
Training didn't choose this moment to fail me.
"Duck!" I yelled as a great ball of fire flew at us. The fireball sailed over my head and pounded violently into a wall, turning the blast point into slag.
I brought up my M-4 and started shooting wildly, pumping several rounds into the thing's stomach before it went down bleeding and screaming something horrible. Its blood was brownish in color and sizzled like acid as it flowed, burning a hole in the nice UAC carpet.
I got back up when I was sure it was dead. My companions came in after me, their weapons up and ready, as they should be in a situation like this.
I went over to inspect the new corpse.
It was dark brown in color, like dirt but not quite. It didn't have skin, but rather it was covered by tiny scales. It wasn't wearing any clothes, and it had no genitalia in any human sense. It had three clawed toes on its feet, and one short, stubby toe on the backs of its feet, like a bird. It had five fingers like a human, save that the fingers were clawed as well. In the palm was a hole that glowed red, and felt hot, even through my heavy gloves. There was no evidence of metal on the entire body, suggesting that the creature's ability to make and throw fireballs was completely biological in nature. The spines that were on its shoulders, elbows and chest were completely white and seemingly well polished--I could practically see my reflection in them. And, as I suspected earlier, they were sharp at their tips. I made a note of that just in case there were anymore of these things lurking around.
I tried to lift the corpse so I could take a good look at it from all sides, but it was HEAVY. I estimated it weighed between 300-450 kilos. I dusted off my hands, despite the absence of dirt. The thing's flesh felt wet and leathery.
I gave up trying to lift it and stood up. My comrades had been watching me inspect the corpse.
"No weapons or identification," I said, adhering to Drop Marine procedure, even though the shit had hit the fan---hard.
I dusted off my hands and hefted my M-4. I put on a mask of determination--more for my mates' sake than mine--and said in my most badass voice ever--
"Alright, let's move out!"
Everybody's spirits heightened when they saw one marine who hadn't lost his cool, even after killing a virtual demon. I smiled despite the terrifying circumstances. We were a unit again.

As previously planned, we all headed towards the security station, making sure to stay vigilant, should any more of those spiny things show up again. We all had our weapons' stocks to our shoulders, ready to fire at half-a-second's notice. I bravely took point, keeping true to the gung-ho fašade I put up, while Kirin and Frederick took the rear. Kosky and Stevens were in the middle of our little formation, watching our flanks.
I kept a steady watch ahead of us as we passed through the still-deactivated showers, keeping watch both ahead and above us for any monsters that might drop in on us through the air ducts. Nothing happened to us as we made our way towards the security station.
The first thing I noticed amiss was that the control locking panel for the door had been burned through--probably the work of Peterson or one of his boys. The door was still open, its closing mechanism probably damaged by whomever--or whatever--had burned through the door control panel. I considered it a warning. I brought my gun up.
The rest of the group stood outside, waiting for me to come back after I'd scouted and report in. Kirin leaned weakly against a wall; his vomiting had probably taken a lot out of him. Stevens suggested he eat something.
I stepped cautiously into the station's outermost room--surveillance and identification. The camera monitors were offline completely, their screens white with snow. The identification computers were off, too. Weird.
Again it was quiet--too quiet. I cocked my weapon for anything that might surprise me. I looked on a desk in front of the window that gave me a view of the locker area. There was the usual assortment of identification papers and daily reports, a personal computer and a UAC coffee mug, half-filled with UAC-brand coffee sludge. To my amazement, the PC was still on, showing a document typed in wordpad. It looked like a report. It read:

January 27th 2039: Coffee machine in Detention is broken. Request repair. One worker had to be detained on charges of aggravated assault.

February 27th 2039: Prison riot started by prisoner Ruskin. Five guards injured, all seriously. One prisoner killed.

March 27th 2039: Anomaly detected in experimental labs. Two guards sent to investi***ERROR: MALFUNCTION DETECTED IN SYSTEMS ADMINISTo8$D*(*&^*jjf!!!090gjG*&fbhfaifh87***

Something had definitely gone wrong in the computer system. On my watch, it had happened yesterday. This wasn't surprising to me, anymore, given the fireball-throwing devil we'd just killed something had gone wrong with the whole station.
I turned away from the monitor and crept over to the door leading to the detention center, and deeper into the security station.



Old Post 10-24-01 02:11 #
Tek is offline Profile || Blog || Email || Search || Add Buddy IP || Edit/Delete || Quote
Katgut
Post Out Of Order


Posts: 673
Registered: 05-01


Good as usual. Keep it up!

Old Post 10-24-01 07:06 #
Katgut is offline Profile || Blog || Email || Search || Add Buddy IP || Edit/Delete || Quote
All times are GMT. The time now is 01:41. Post New Thread    Post A Reply
 
Doomworld Forums : Powered by vBulletin version 2.2.5 Doomworld Forums > Special Interest > Creative Works > (Another) Doom Story pt. 3

Show Printable Version | Email this Page | Subscribe to this Thread

 

Forum Rules:
You may not post new threads
You may not post replies
You may not post attachments
You may not edit your posts
HTML code is OFF
vB code is ON
Smilies are OFF
[IMG] code is ON
 

< Contact Us - Doomworld >

Powered by: vBulletin Version 2.2.5
Copyright ©2000, 2001, Jelsoft Enterprises Limited.