The Underworld : Becoming (Part III)

[Spike]

It's long overdue... nearing a year in fact but, here it is. If any newbies ain't got a clue what i'm on about, read the previous Underworld chapters on the bottom of the first page of DSM's FanFic index

Some may have reacted with shock. Others with simple amusement. For his part, Private Peter Wilson stared in disbelief at the immense animated skull that seemed fused into the great bank of machinery. Nervous twitches were restrained by the heavy iron chains that held him in bondage before the great skull-visaged beast.
"I know of you", Wilson muttered, scorn dripping from each word. "The Knights of Templar worshipped you... and were punished. Surely Hell is the only place capable of accepting you."
Baphomet's lips spred, exposing an expansive fanged grin.
"Ah, but Hell was never my domain to begin with. It's leaders were incompetant and complacent. Only when I wrested control from their foolish hands were Hell's denizens able to truly wreak havoc upon the mortal plane." The immense white eyes narrowed further, scrutinizing the captive human. "Even you, righteous child, cannot deny the power of the horde at my command."
Wilson turned away, spitting blood he had not noticed before. "Nothing can stop the light of The Almighty", he growled, his fear held carefully in line by his faith. "and no measure of evil can taint the souls of His chosen."
Baphomet began to laugh,a booming sound that resonated around the cavern. "Taint, man-child? My intention was not to taint. No, a simple conversion will suffice. And I am certain that you have much to show us in regard of the three invaders in our new lands..."
With a grinding noise of steel against stone, Wilson found himself hauled upwards into an unforseen shaft concealed in the ceiling of Baphomet's audience chamber. His screams of torment went unheard among the demonic populace as The Baphomet began picking his human subject apart... reconditioning him as it saw fit.
"You cannot conquer me!" He screamed. "My God is with me!"
But he could only hear Baphomet's voice. "We shall see, mortal. We shall see...".

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The last of the skeletal Revenant beasts collapsed to the sodden shores, releasing with it the spirit of another tormented soul. The silence was a welcome respite from the frenzied bloodshed and violence that had preceded; Shredded demonic bodies littered the stinking ground behind, while the three human survivors trudged onwards, ever wary of the enemy.
"Where now, Colonel?" Hendry inquired, glancing at and admiring the considerable ammunition count on his plasma rifle. They had entered the demonic fortress without meeting a single enemy. "Head on through?"
Colonel Alex McMillan thundered on a good few feet ahead of Hendry and Kalliope, his own rifle gripped tightly, reflexes on alert. "Look for gates. It looks like this is the only local structure, and there's only one way that reinforcements are getting here."
Kallope glanced at the hewn green-stone walls passing by her side. "Gateways", she muttered. "They should take us straight to your devil, yes?"
McMillan glanced over his shoulder, narrowing his eyes. "Just keep an eye out for the gates. We're getting closer. I know it."
Hendry grinned tightly at his superior. "Following the trail, eh boss?"
"If you've a better plan then please, share it among the people. In fact," He turned on a heel suddenly, reaching out to hand Hendry his weapon in one massive, synthetic hand, "why don't you take charge? Hell, I'd be happy to turn over command to one so informed of matters in The Other Place."
Hendry immediatly raised his hands in a gesture of non-involvement. "Colonel, I was just asking! Christ..." He relaxed slightly as McMillan withdrew his rifle and turned away. "I'm following you, remember?" The Corporal muttered. "I just wanna get home." The Colonel shrugged, withdrawing his weapon and trudging on, his mind seething with the the already-considerable loss of life.
Amazingly, the twisting corridors continued without incident. Only when they reached a mighty, rusted portculis across the corridor was their progression halted.
Hendry glanced at the grey, featureless walls around them.
"Now where?" he asked.
It was Kalliope's turn to shrug. "We wait," she growled. "The beasts know we are here, and we wait for them to come and get us".
McMillan grinned. "A thousand demon corpses wouldn't be enough to quench my thirst," he muttered under his breath. "Let them come for us."

It took near enough to an hour. The three marines were dozing, arresting themselves to the beckoning sleep, a reward of the battles they had faced. All three were made alert by the grinding of metal as the great portculis began to rise. Hendry was the first to come fully awake, snapping up his plasma rifle and virtually jumping to his feet as the iron gate reached its climb at the end of the corridor. All was darkness beyond the gate, and not for the first time, Hendry was cursing for a weapon-mounted torch; he dare not illuminate the area with a burst of weapon fire lest he waste the precious ammunition.
"Come and get it, you fuckers," McMillan yelled from behind. "Haven't we killed enough of your kind yet?"
A soft laughter began to emanate from the dark, sending shivers through Hendry and Kalliope. It eased into a soft humming, almost human...
"Ah, my Colonel", said the distant voice. The familiarity of it was striking. "Should you not turn back from whence you came?" There were humour to those words.
"Not a chance," McMillan growled. "Not until your kind are extinct."
Deep green flames burst to life beyond the raised portculis, and Kalliope strained to make out the figure stood by them. Rippling muscles covered the naked, human physique, undeterred by the nearby demonic chattering that began to echo around the haunted corridors. Human, but for the left forearm - it terminated at the elbow, becoming thereon the bulky, cybernetic implant employed by the feared Cyberdemons. The figure grinned at its former companions.
"Colonel, Corporal, and Private; I would join you, but it would seem that my new master has other work for me." The grin became malevolent as he stroked his rocket launcher prosthetic. "But worry not, for there is ample time for us to conduct a... proper meeting. Until then." The former human bowed his head before vanishing in a burst of flames.
"Wilson!" Hendry yelled, leaping forward and drawing his weapon.
But it was no use. The demonic defenders were almost upon them, and the time for action had come...

[Little Faith]

Whee, yet an installment in my favourite fanfic.

[Spike]

Heh, favouritage!

[dsm]

Welcome back to the fray soldier, it's good to see one of my old favourites return and with un-diminished creativity and skill I see.