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DooM - One Fate Worse

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This is my first time posting a fan fic here. I was hit with the desire to write a short story based on Doom earlier today and I plugged this bad boy out.

This is vaguely inspired by Doom 64.

DooM - One Fate Worse

Steven Johnson

Blood soaked shreds of what were once human beings lay all around as I fed shells into my shotgun. The barrel was still smoking from the engagement.

My muscles ached. Hours, upon hours of rinse and repeat action as I made my way deeper and deeper into the base. Each new structure, Hell, each new room, was stranger than the last. It was as if the base itself were shifting and changing according to some abstract artist's fever dream.

As I finished loading the last round into my cobalt-blue friend I finally realized the nature of the scenery I stood within. It was almost comical, in a macabre sort of way. At one point this would have been a computer lab. Now? Heh... It's amazing what buckshot can do to a human being up close. Even more pleasing, what it could do to those things. Hideous, inhuman, and the smell worse than an unkempt barnyard filled with dead skunks. I was happy to slaughter them all.

I think most of my humanity left me hours ago. When the men were screaming through the radio about these things. Things which overwhelmed them like an act of nature more than enemy combatants. They were cut down in a blaze of gun fire. There were nineteen heavily armed marines in the beginning. Now there was just me. Scraping by with precious little ammo. I had no right to be alive this long after everyone else had bought it.

I moved onward, into the next hallway, which looked like all the other hallways to me. Prefabricated plastic and aluminum vacuformed tunnels built into the rock of Phobos. They took on three shades - tan, green, and white. There was probably some reasoning behind the color schemes, but I didn't know. I didn't care, either. It was just a backdrop for the carnage slopped over it. I hadn't seen sign of a human soul since I found one of my marine buddies awhile back. He blubbered to me about the monsters. He said it was better if we just ended it now, and proceeded to unceremoniously shoot himself. I tried not to, but deep down I hated him for it.

This wasn't my first time amidst death. I had seen plenty of war back home. Middle East, Asia, even a little in the good ol' U S of A. That last one wasn't exactly the same. Rioters were swarming across the east coast, stirring up all kinds of trouble. A fidgety commanding officer felt compelled to gun down a few dozen unlucky citizens, and I stepped in to show him where his error lay. He wasn't particularly receptive. So I made sure he wasn't in any position to give orders.
Unfortunately in the real world white knight's don't get the girl. They go to prison, they get executed, or in my case, they get sent to Mars. Mars is the ass end of space. Well, in spirit anyway.

Technically humanity had reached much further, all the way out to the nearest neighboring stars, but Mars is where secrets go to be buried. The Union Aerospace Corporation had made an entire project out of secrets kept under wraps here.

I heard that now all too familiar sound again. The beastly gurgling of those pink, fleshy gorilla's and the hisses of their gangly brown cousins. They're all gonna die, and i'm going to revel in their deaths.

Stepping around the corner, I saw the enemy scattered about in the large store room ahead. They were grouped up in small packs of three or four. Feasting on the bodies of the dead. I tried to recollect just how many shots I had left. Hand to hand didn't sound like an appealing idea.

Before I could consider this potential predicament further I had reflexively shouldered the shotgun and fired off the first peppering shot. The nearest brown-thing splattered, it's cry of death feeding my blood lust, and alerting his friends.

Actioning the pump I aimed at the next target, a nice big pinky. I fired again, hitting the thing square between it's beady eyes. It grunted, and growled. At this point, the other dozen creatures in the room had turned towards me. The brown fuckers started hurling their fire balls as the pink ones snapped at the air and barked.

Their bodies fell in delightful, gorey, destruction as the smell of gun powder filled my nose. My visor was covered in smoke and gore. Like some futuristic Herculean warrior I put my boot down on a wounded brown-thing and blew out his neck with a point blank shotgun blast. I actioned the shotgun again, and the empty shell clattered to the ground with a hollow 'clunk.'

Then, the single worst sound I heard all day rang out over the gunshots, over the sounds of the demonic creatures before me. Click. I was out of ammo. Without missing a beat I swung the shotgun into a batters position and hit a demon right out of the park. Smacked the demon right across it's pig snouted face. I heard myself growl "Fuck YOU!" as I kicked the next monster leaping at me.

I knew I was losing this fight. This was my time. One of those brown sons a bitches got me first. He sliced with his razor sharp talons right across my torso, tearing the fibers of my uniform and scratching my abdomen. I stumbled, turned for the door. I felt the burning of a fire ball smack into the back of my armor, and melt the composite materials into my flesh. I cried out.

Smoke from the sizzling wound rushed under my mask. I stumbled forward, tearing off the helmet, and with it gone my heads up display vanished. I already knew what I needed to know, I was dead meat. No need for reminders displayed in glorious holographic high definition.

My right arm felt incredibly heavy. It was the burning wound on my back, it must have taken out the nerves in my upper arm. I swung my full body weight behind my left arm and smacked it across an encroaching brownie.

One of it's impish buddies got up behind me and lept on my back like some demented child riding piggyback. I stumbled for a few steps until one of the pink bastards slammed into my side. I was overtaken by the horde. They tore into me, scratched at my flesh, and dug into my bone. Blood poured out of me in huge globs.

Then, a thunderous roar boomed through the chamber. The monsters released me, or what was left of me at this point. I looked around to see all the creatures were pushed into the walls, hiding. They were afraid.

Then I saw it. The towering, nine foot tall creature. It's legs were covered in a thick fur, like a lion's mane. It's torso was that of a ripped human male, with huge musculature that swept up into broad shoulders. The face, told me everything I needed to know. It fused goat, man, and skeleton into a permanently enraged expression. It glared down on me with a hatred I cannot describe. It's eyes were black pools of emptiness.

It... He, somehow I knew "it" was in fact a "him" and that he would consider himself such. So, yes, "he" began to move toward me. His pace was deliberate as it reached down and grabbed my foot. His grip was firm, like he was claiming his property. He began to drag me away. I was in no position to fight. A damn pathetic whimper escaped my lips and I felt such deep shame. The wind had left my lungs already, my arm was ruined, and I was pumping blood out of bite and scratch marks all across my body. There was a thick trail of blood on the floor behind me as we moved from room to room.

I must have been close to their main dens on the moonbase. I could hear other people. Well, i'm not sure "people" is the right term. They sounded as if they had been tortured into babbling lunacy. Whoever they were was probably driven into a very deep dark corner of their mind, replaced by something more animal than human.

It then occurred to me, that I was being taunted. This son of a bitch was giving me a preview of just what he was planning for me. My resolve was growing, but physically... Physically, I don't think I had much fight left. I had enough hatred to fuel my escape, but whether or not an opportunity would present itself... Well, that remained to be seen.

The smell was awful as the tall bastard tossed me down in another room. The walls seemed to gurgle and move, as if the bulkheads had been replaced by living flesh. My hands were moving through a thick gelatinous pile of carnage. I could see vague shapes in the dark. gored skulls, intestines, arms, legs, torsos. A few humanoid figures twitched near burning torches.

All these people... I knew the UAC was to blame for what had happened here. Their arrogance, their inability to balance ambition and morality... But, so many of these people were just everyday working blue collar types. Just trying to make a living. Some of them could even be people I know!

My rage was boiling over the pain. Enough to metaphorically cauterise the wounds and give me a second wind. I rose to my feet. I was gonna take this bastard with my bare hands and I was going to win.

As I stood, the mighty creature exhaled, smoke shooting from his nostrils like some demented cartoon character. He cocked a hand up to smack me. I dove into him with my entire body. I was surprised to find I had knocked him off balance. Quickly, I reached into the gore. Lucky for me there were plenty of spikes and bone spurs around.

I gripped a ten inch bone stick in my hand, and stabbed for his abdomen, but he moved just in time, taking it in the shoulder instead. He growled, smacked me away so hard that I flew through the air and landed on the adjacent wall. I fell face first into a pool of sifted human parts. It was a level of nauseating I had never experienced before, but I ignored it. I climbed from the pit, stood with a wide aggressive stance and snarled at the beast.

He paused, his brow furrowing as if he was questioning my intentions. I hesitated in that instance as a green ball of flame engulfed his hand and was flung at me. I tried to move, but it was too late. The flame smacked into my chest and I cried out. The force of the blast knocked me end over end. I feebly grabbed for the wall to find purchase, tried to regain my footing.

The Hell monster grabbed me by the back, digging his claws in. He flipped me over again, and that's when I felt it. He skewered me. The barb plunged through my back, and came out of my stomach. I looked up at the bloody thing sticking from me, a piece of flesh stretching from my stomach to the tip. I yelped. I cried. I grabbed at the thing. Pulled feebly.

The creature merely stared. Brow still furrowed. Watching intently. I saw now that it wasn't a questioning look, but one of satisfaction. A twisted form of carnal pleasure. Both of his hands grabbed one of my legs, he snarled and pulled the two sections away from each other. The sound was initially worse than the pain, but then the shock of it hit me. He dislocated my knee. He was breaking my legs. Like a child might rip the wings off a fly.

After he broke my other leg he watched me squirm and whimper, before finally disappearing into the shadows again. I could hear the screams and wails of other humans in the distance. He was a busy demon it seems.

Finally, my head rolled back, and I passed out. I didn't think this is how it would end. Not here. Not like this. By his whim, I knew he wouldn't let me die for some time. This was one fate worse than death.


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Next, write a story about encounters with the most frustrating enemies -chaingunners and revenants.

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