Gatekeeper

This part of Hell looked different than the other parts of Hell.

It was pretty depressing that he was so familiar with Hell that he could identify different parts of it. Maybe, when this was all over, he could retire and join the Lonely Planets travel agency. Those guys already offered tourist trips to all of the solar system's inner planets, maybe he could add Hell to the list. Come see the sights and sounds of the Netherworld! Meet interesting people who want to kill you! Photographs aren't allowed in the Temple of Worms! Please respect all cultural customs of the native population, unless you want to be disembowelled and have your soul tortured for all eternity! Please note that there are no refunds, and that you must have travel insurance – now 60% off!

If there'd been anyone around, the marine might have tried sharing that. Still, there weren't. There were only demons, demons, and more demons. Which wasn't too much a problem because there was also ammo, ammo, and more ammo. Why the forces of Hell were stockpiling shotgun shells along the shorelines of seas of blood he didn't know, but he wasn't about to complain. Demons came. He shot demons. Sometimes the demons got a blow in or two, at which point he'd scavenge the wastes of Hell for a first aid kit. Because demons wanted those as well for some reason, even though they seemed pretty unoccupied with preserving their own lives, and sure as hell (no pun intended) weren't treating the zombie marines that had ended up here as well.

It had occurred to the marine that maybe that was why the ammo was here, that Satan (or whoever ran the show here) wanted ammo for his soldiers of darkness. Either way, it didn't matter. Apparently being undead meant you couldn't aim for shit. He on the other hand could. Which was why he was still alive, and he'd left a bunch of corpses in his wake, while wondering how to get out of this place.

Hell was darker here. Less red, more black, just as much blood. He was pretty sure he'd been on Earth, after escaping Hell the first time, but as he'd popped into that teleporter that looked set to land him outside a burning city, he'd ended up here. Back in Hell. Shooting, ripping, and tearing. Which wasn't too bad in of itself, but still, burning city, burning Earth. Priorities and all that. He-

Huh.

He doubted he'd have recognised the sign of his own voice anymore, but he did at least recognise the sound of his own thought. The sounds that had started like "zomyghoshwhatthe fuck?!" on Phobos, and, by the end of Deimos, had transformed into something along the lines of "suck it." Demons were there, demons were bad, he had to shoot demons. But the demon up ahead, sitting on the steps of a temple made out of bone (how that was kept together he had no idea), reading a book made out of human skin (or what he assumed was human)…well, that gave him pause. As in, the idea of a demon reading, and not going "gah" or "blerg" or whatever sounds those imps and pinkies made. Certainly it looked different than a lot of them – it reminded him of a goat. A goat with grey fur, grey horns, and red glowing eyes. A demon, but one that he might not shoot immediately. Gingerly, moving as slow as a soldier from one of those MMS games from the early 21st century, he approached the creature.

"Hello," it said.

The marine frowned, raising his shotgun at the creature. It tilted its head like that cat that had tried to eat Daisy once.

"Still the normal shotgun huh? Well, don't worry about it. You'll get a better one once you get back to Earth." The demon turned a page of his book with a thump. "If you get back."

The marine blinked. "You can talk?"

The goat-demon laughed. "I can talk the languages of Man, demon, and those beyond. Your silly little words are quite easy to comprehend."

"As opposed to grunts and roars?"

"Didn't say demon languages were any harder."

The marine walked up to the creature. His first instinct was to shoot the talking goat and be done with it. His second instinct was to engage in conversation – wars had ended through words in the past, maybe he could end Hell's invasion through an act of diplomacy. His third instinct was to still kill the creature, but, well, first the worst, second the best, third the one with the hairy chest. And the demon's chest certainly was hairy.

"Do you have a name?" the marine asked.

"Oh yes, but one that you couldn't pronounce," the demon said, turning another page. "And if you could, its mere utterance would drive you mad."

The marine snorted – fighting through Hell, talking with demons…he was probably insane already.

"You can call me Lucifer though," said the demon, sticking out a hand. "Lu, for short."

The marine looked at the hand – it was covered with blood, and what looked like shredded tissue. Lucifer (not Lu, Lucifer, he told himself) noticed and withdrew the hand, wiping it against his fur.

"Oh, sorry about that. I spent a few hours tearing babes out of the wombs of virgins today."

"…how are there babies in their wombs if they're virgins?"

"Huh." Lucifer looked up at the black, cloudless sky. "Y'know, I never thought about that."

"Think about anything else besides infanticide?"

Lucifer chuckled. "Never said I actually killed anyone in the process."

The marine suddenly felt very ill, but nonetheless asked, "and what do you think about?"

"Life, the universe, and the eternal cycle of Hell's conquests," Lucifer said. "Baphomet already leads the invasion of your world. Satan himself bids his servants hunt you down."

"And are you one of them?"

"I am," said Lucifer.

The marine raised his shotgun and Lucifer laughed. "Is your opinion of me so low that you think you can slay me with a weapon like that?"

"I have other weapons."

"Yes, and in the time it would take you to equip them I could rip your soul from your body and add it to the Wailing Wall. But as it is, I can help you."

"I'm sure you can." The marine paused, making sure his helmet's HUD was working. "But why?"

"Why?" Lucifer asked, getting to his feet. "Because many have trod the path you have. None have made it so far as to defeat one of our cyberdemons or masterminds. Most are torn to shreds when we first enter their world."

"I'm flattered."

"Do be, do be," Lucifer said. He began to circle the marine. "But no matter. The way out of Hell lies through the Temple of Bone."

"You worship bone?"

"Don't interrupt mortal," Lucifer snapped, a forked tongue popping out from between forked teeth. "I'm defying the Lord of Darkness himself to give you a fighting chance."

"My chances-"

"To pass through the temple, you must obtain the Sigil."

"What the fuck is a-"

"The Sigil," said Lucifer, clearly getting annoyed with the constant interruptions," is in the Realm of the Id."

"Where's the-"

"To enter the realm however, you must be one of the Master Race. Those who were there at the beginning. The ones who shall be there at the end. The lords who rule from their obsidian towers, as thousands of the damned toil as peasants below."

"Sounds kinda dickish."

"Judge not in the realm of the damned, mortal – judgement is in the hands of one in this place. And to the servants of darkness, he has judged you a threat."

"I'm flattered."

"Which is why you should take my offer," Lucifer said. "You of course have to find the Realm of the Id, and be one of the Master Race, so perhaps you will fail. But if not, and you return with the Sigil, then perhaps I shall find myself so astounded by your fortitude that I shall gasp and look to the heavens while one of the children of Earth passes through these doors." He stuck out a hand again, minus the sinew, still bearing the blood. "Do we have a deal?"

The marine thought about it for a moment. Only for a moment.

"Well, child of Earth?"

"Sure," the marine said. "Sure." He stuck out his left hand for Lucifer to shake.

Then with his right, he lifted his shotgun and put a shell straight between Lucifer's eyes.

The demon collapsed down onto the onyx stairs, blood pouring out from the opening the shell had made.

"Asshole," the marine grunted. He gave Lucifer's corpse a shove with his boot before putting another realm into his head just to be sure.

He didn't know about any Sigil, or Master Race, or special realms where dirty peasants toiled for their masters. But he did know he had to get to Earth. And that to get to Earth, he had to kill demons. And that to kill demons, he had to shoot them, and keep shooting them until they were dead.

As he entered the Temple of Bone, he was left to ask why life had to be so complicated.


A/N

So, the idea for this came from reading about Sigil, a WAD for Doom by John Romero for the game's 25th anniversary. So, good, I thought. Bad news is that it's only accessible to those who own the original Doom when it was released...in 1993. "Bad," I thought. I mean, I can get it being a PC-exclusive if only due to its means of distribution, but the idea of fencing it off from anyone who wasn't there in 1993...yeah, really can't guess why, outside guesses that involve gatekeeping.

Anyway, drabbled this up.

Oh, and fun fact, I think the story description for Sigil is the first time that Satan's been confirmed to exist in the Doom multiverse outside the strategy guide for Doom II. And yes, I know "Lucifer" tends to be synonymous with everyone's favourite prince of darkness but...meh.