I have decided to try my hand at a Doom novelization, I have the first little bit planned out, so here goes!
Doom - A Fan Novelization
Chapter 1 - Defiance
Jack Aaron almost refused to get up when he heard reveille. Getting up meant suffering another day on this bullshit mission under his dickhead of a Commanding Officer. When he signed up for the marines, slaughtering civilians for the crime of protesting the government (for good reason, he might add) was not what he had in mind.
As he rose to a sitting position, he casually looked out the window at the sun rising over New Los Angeles. It was a beautiful sight, even with the experience somewhat dulled by seeing it for the hundredth time. Still, it was enough to almost make Jack forget that this city was just as-if not more-fucked up than the original version of its namesake.
Jack stood up, stretched, got in uniform, fed his pet rabbit, Daisy, gave her a few loving strokes, and ran out the door. He made it to briefing in the nick of time.
As Jack got into line, greeting and greeted by some of his fellow soldiers, he heard the footsteps coming down the hall. He found his position just in the nick of time. The door slid open, and Sergeant Markus "Pit Bull" Johnson marched in.
Sergeant Johnson got his nickname from the fact that he showed no mercy to anyone. He was known to punish his soldiers almost as much as the enemy themselves, sometimes even physically. One of Aaron's best friends, Corporal Terry Anderson had been bitch slapped by him for refusing to follow suicidal orders. He was never court martial-ed for it; they were afraid to bring it up. He was loved by the top brass, and even if he was sentenced, the moment he came back, everyone would be punished. Terry had quit and began working for the Union Aerospace Corporation after that incident.
"Morning, dirtbags. Have a nice nap?"
"Sir, yes, sir!" everyone said out of obligation.
"Good! Because today's going to be busy! We've gotten word that another group of protesters has shown up at city hall demanding that we leave! You know the drill, assholes! Any form of physical resistance shall be met with by force!"
One of the soldiers groaned. Johnson whipped around and walked right up to the soldier in question.
"Do you have a comment, Private? DO YOU HAVE SOMETHING YOU'D LIKE TO SAY?"
"No, sir!" the soldier cowered.
"Can't remember? Perhaps 500 push-ups will HELP you remember..."
"What's that? 500 isn't enough for you?"
"Then nose to the ground, PRIVATE."
The soldier got down to begin his punishment, and Johnson turned and continued the briefing. Aaron didn't hear a word. He spent the whole rest of the briefing fantasizing about Sergeant Johnson meeting with a horrible accident.
* * *
When they reached the ridiculously well-kept town square ("Our tax dollars at work," one soldier grumbled.), there they all were; the protesters had signs and everything. Signs saying things like, "We're people too!" or "Civilian workers unite!" or even "People Against Intense Negligence", things like that.
As the detachment approached, the protesting of the protester stopped. They all turned to face the approaching soldiers. The leader of the cause stepped forward towards Sergeant Johnson with open hands outstretched to show that he was no threat to him or his men.
"Sir," the lead protester said, "I want you to know that we mean no harm and-"
"If you meant no harm, you wouldn't BE here!" Johnson sneered.
"Sir, I understand that you have orders to force us to disperse, but I'd just like to say that we do not mean to be anything but peaceful. All we want is a fair chance in life."
Johnson gave that malicious smile he was sometimes known for. "You want a fair chance at life, eh? Very well! I'll give you to the count of FIVE to start packing."
"I can't do that under good conscience, sir. These people are counting on me..."
"Very well." Johnson said coldly. Suddenly he raised his shotgun and blew the man's head off! The crowd of protesters suddenly erupted into an uproar. Some ran for their lives, others began grabbing rocks off the ground and started hurling them at the Sergeant.
"Open fire!" he screamed with inhuman zeal.
"No! This is wrong! This is-" said a soldier, before he was cut off by a shotgun blast to the kneecap by Johnson. The soldier collapsed to the ground with a scream, clutching the wound, sobbing uncontrollably.
Holy shit! Johnson's lost his mind! Aaron thought to himself.
"Anyone ELSE want to mutiny!?" Johnson screamed. The soldiers reluctantly began shooting.
Screams came from the crowd as shots from pistols, shotguns and even a few chainguns tore through them. Johnson began laughing merrily at the sight.
Suddenly, Aaron saw a young child carrying a small replica of the old U.S. flag running from the carnage, bawling at the experience. Aaron was in a state of shock. This couldn't be legal, what they were doing! This had to be against orders!
Suddenly, a gunshot rang out, and Aaron watched in horror as the child fell to the ground. Aaron, without thinking, ran over to the wounded child. As he came towards the kid, he began screaming in fear. Aaron tried to shush him, but then he heard the hard footsteps behind him.
"What are you waiting for, Private Aaron? Finish him," said Sergeant Johnson from behind.
Aaron looked up at his C.O. in shock. "What!?" he exclaimed.
"You heard me. Shoot him."
"Why...why are we doing this?"
"Because I am ORDERING YOU TO!" Johnson screamed.
Aaron stood up and looked right into Johnson's eyes. "NO! This is wrong! And you know it!" he said.
"Shoot him! Or I'll shoot you!"
"You are a disgrace to the Marine Corps..." Aaron heard himself saying.
Johnson raised his shotgun and pointed it between Aaron's eyes.
"Do it. NOW," Johnson commanded.
Aaron couldn't take it any more. He had to make a stand. He had to make a stand against this crazed, psychopathic motherfucker...
"...Yes, sir." he said.
Aaron pulled out his shotgun and pointed it at the child.
Then he swung it like a baseball bat, connecting the rifle with Johnson's nose. Then he shot him in the stomach. Johnson began screaming and raving like a lunatic.
"AAAHHHHH! YOU BASTARD! I'LL KILL YOU! I'LL-" he screamed as he raised his own shotgun at Aaron, who quickly knocked it out of his hands and began pummeling the crazed Sergeant with the butt of his own.
The rest of the soldiers stopped firing. Some stared in shock. Most jeered at Aaron to keep it up. Only a couple tried to get Aaron to stop, and tried to pull him away, but Aaron, bellowing like a madman, kept smacking and shooting away at Johnson's body. When he finally stopped and stood up, Johnson didn't move. He laid there in a slowly spreading pool of blood, motionless. The only sign that he was still alive was the unusually slow rise and fall of his chest.
One of the soldiers called on the radio for emergency extraction of Johnson. The ship arrived within minutes, and the paramedics had Johnson inside in less than one.
That's when Aaron saw the Captains walking towards him with very stern expressions.
"Oh, shit..." he said. His voice didn't have the emotion of remorse, or fear, or even anger.
It was the voice of a man who knew he had just butt-fucked his own career and life.