This is a work of fanfiction - Princess Resurrection and Doom are both property of their respectful owners.
Now that the manga for Princess Resurrection has ended, I finally got everything i need to start this story. As said in the description this story is quite violent, and will have a RizaxHiro (PR) pairing later on. With effort and luck, I hope to make this story readable/enjoyable for fans of Princess Resurrection and the Doom series of games, and especially a treat if you happen to be a fan of both.
This chapter introduces the Doom elements of the story, and will connect to the PR side of things in the next chapter.
Also, as always, I might tweak this chapter a bit for any further consistency/flow issues and errors.
Survival is such a strange thing. The will to stay alive has always been a very human trait, one that has been cemented into the core of our existence since the very dawn of our time. So doesn't it seem ironic that, the harder we fight to survive, the more of our humanity we shed in the process...?
Somewhere in the USA; 2009 A.D
Streaks of fire smolder along the blackened sky, casting a morbid light upon the bloodshed below. What was once a city teeming with life is now a barren labyrinth of steel and concrete; the bustle and commotion of the living forever lost amidst the echoes of the crackling flames. Where the streets used to shine bright under zooming traffic and city lights, only the flames of a lost battle remain to shed light upon the blood-soaked asphalt. Gore-soaked paper and forgotten debris blow along the infernal wind, and the stench of death follows ever-vigilant.
'City life' had become life no more. The bodies of an unsuspecting population are splayed by the thousands all across the urban nightmare. Men, women, children - all have become shredded corpses; with limbs torn away and flesh half-consumed, the bloodied faces of the dead remain forever frozen in their final agonized screams. For these poor souls, there was neither sanctuary nor escape. Their vehicles became coffins of steel, and the buildings were made their tombs; nothing but markers for the dead in this graveyard of the innocent.
But in the central point of the city, one building remains mostly intact; The Union Aerospace Corporation Research and Development Complex. Housing multitudes of projects for advancement in travel and technology, it provided the funding for many of the city's developments. As such, it was almost literally the 'heart' of the city; and towering above all other structures at 50 floors in height, it certainly looked the part. However, of all the technology researched there, the 'Slipgate' project is by far the most illustrious. Slipgate technology allowed the creation of portals between two different locations, allowing instant travel from one portal to the next; and this complex is one of the seven buildings on this continent to have one of these portals.
As home to one of these devices, the 'heart of the city' unknowingly sealed its own demise.
All seven slipgates around the country were linked to two outposts on the moons of Mars; one on Phobos, and one on Deimos. At these outposts, the UAC had hoped to further develop and explore the possibilities of Slipgate technology; but what they unleashed was something far greater – and far more deadly- than they could ever have anticipated. The science team on Phobos unwittingly tapped into a dimension of madness and suffering, a land of unspeakable horrors never meant to be witnessed by the living.
Horrifying creatures of death and despair poured from the gate by the thousands, mangling and devouring all in their path; within an hour, the Phobos complex fell. The UAC-operated military outpost on Mars received a distress call amidst the panic, and dispatched its marines towards the Phobos outpost, but it was already too late; Phobos was overrun. The creatures had managed to reroute and re-engineer the slipgates to create a direct link between their world and the existing portals; and upon ravaging the Deimos facility, they immediately set their sights upon Earth.
As for the soldiers dispatched to Phobos, they never stood a chance. Ambushed by an unknown enemy, the entire force was torn to ribbons, leaving no survivors to stand in their way. No survivors, that is, except for one...
A single spark of life, a sole marine who managed to survive the massacre of his companions on Phobos, blast his way through Deimos, and face the nightmare that awaited him within the dimension of evil. The return to Earth did not mark the end of the war; his home continent plagued by the enemy, he fought to destroy the seven slipgates before the creatures have the chance to spread across the Earth. And now, on the fiftieth floor of the UAC Research and Development complex, this single spark approaches its final target...
–
Deafening cracks of gunfire echo throughout the metallic hallway in steady rhythm, the clangs of ejected casings against the ground following close behind. Shards of glass propel onto the advancing force as two windows shatter under gunfire, the air teeming with the shrieks of the enemy as their bodies thud against the cold metal floor. In any normal war, these are the sounds that would echo in a soldier's nightmares for eternity; but this is no normal war, and these are not human enemies.
Clawed and hoofed feet alike clink and crash against the metal tile as creatures of all shapes and color continue their advance down the hall. Some adorned with spikes, and some bare, the creatures' hardened, leathery skin is illuminated beneath dim orange light from the flaming cityscape beyond the tower facility's windows. Enamel coated with the gore of the innocent, the monsters bare their razor-sharp teeth fiercely as they descend on their sole target. They are torturers; killers; ghastly monsters from the darkest depths of hell. Knowing neither mercy nor compassion, they murder all in their path with sickening efficiency.
Demons.
But on the other side of the hall, the figure continues his advance against the legions of Hell, an eight-barreled rotary chaingun held still within his gloved hands as he fires on his targets. Bloody limbs, shattered bones and internal organs soar as the high-caliber rounds hit their marks, mangling all in its path beneath a merciless stream of lead. Unholy screams of agony sear the blistering air as one-by-one, the hellspawn slump onto the gore-soaked ground, the sheen of the metal floor obscured beneath the corpses of the damned.
Nevertheless, the demonic resistance seems to continue as a dozen more fiends crash through the metal doors on the side of the hall. Their eyes gleaming red and brown clawed hands lit with unholy fire, they stand in positions in front of and behind the man, raising their arms to throw their flames in his direction. The soldier snarls – surrounded on both sides in this narrow hallway, the situation has become too complex to tear down with his chaingun. Making a split decision, he throws the massive beast of a weapon at the creatures blocking his immediate path, sending several of them crashing backwards just as their fireballs begin to fly. Quickly, he dives onto the floor; the volley of fire from behind him flies overhead and bursts against the creatures still standing in front of him, as the fireballs from the front smack against all the enemies attacking from behind.
The still-standing fire-wielders stumble back from the impact of their companions' fireballs as the creatures on the ground pull themselves back onto their feet, giving the soldier plenty of time to reach the plasma gun on his back. In the matter of seconds it takes for the monsters to regain their bearings, it's already too late - bright blue spheres of energy rip through the air and burst against the flesh of the hellspawn behind him, and a second volley of plasma blasts sears the enemies to his front a mere second later.
Screams of anguish fill the gore-ridden hall as the congealed plasma sticks to the creatures' bodies, rapidly melting the flesh from their bones. Some of the luckier demons die in place within a few seconds, slumping onto the ground as charred, partially liquified corpses. The unlucky ones didn't die from the blasts so quickly – in skin-melting panic, they find themselves smashing through the windows and plunging to a screaming demise against the streets fifty floors below.
With the demons' ambush brought to a grisly defeat, few remain standing in the marine's path. And now, for the first time, he can see it in their eyes - fear, desperation, and panic, 'emotions' much like the real ones that they wrought on their innocent victims. Despite their best attempts to kill the challenger and protect the final gate to their unholy realm, their blood continues to flow defeated along the body-ridden floor as their ranks run ever thin. It's enough to make a man smile; but unfortunately for them, it's not enough to make a man stop shooting. The sound of several bodies splattering into a thick mulch echoes through the hall for the last time before the plasma blasts finally come to a halt.
Waist-deep in bodies, the man finally releases a sigh from beneath the respirator of his greyish-tan helmet, further soaking his light brown gloves as he wipes away the excess grue splattered on his visor. The video feed on the lower part of his helmet's visor-display, although a bit fuzzy from damage, still gives the marine a clear view of his face and vital signs from within the confines of his headgear. Light brown hair, blue eyes, and hardened features; he can at least take a bit of reprieve in the fact that he still looks like the person he knew before everything went to shit. Although tired as all hell, his vital signs remain strong; still packing more than enough life in his bones to bring this fight to its conclusion.
Taking another moment to check his equipment, the lone soldier looks down at his gear. While his assortment of weapons still remain in decent shape, the green armor adorning his chest is caked in blood and battered with claw marks, and his matching military pants are almost completely stained red. Heck, he can't even see his greyish-tan boots underneath the sea of corpses that now carpet the entire passageway. Waging war against Hell itself has taken its toll on him and his equipment.
But there's no time to mull over that now; beyond the door in front of him, the final slipgate stands intact. He will have to traverse through the portal and eliminate the source of this invasion before it finds a way to spread beyond the American continents. With luck, he can make it back through the slipgate, turn the piece of shit into scrap metal, and escape this fucking 50-floor tomb of a building.
Moving in for the final stretch, he activates the metal tech-door in front of him. The red glow of the active portal permeates the open doorway, ushering its challenger forward.
"I'm demanding a vacation..."
With one last promise to himself, the sole marine ventures into the lungs of Hell.