This story was written towards the end of 2007, as a part of a Creative Writing class assignment. The idea for an "aftermath" kind of story had been gestating in my mind for a very long time, and yet it was somewhat vague, so I ended up with several different versions of the text. This is the one that I like the most - it's short and to the point (I cut a lot of unnecessary stuff, including some boring dialogue, in order to focus on the story itself).
The lead character, Lena, is named after a very special friend of mine.
Enjoy!
Doom II: Hell on Earth
One Year Later
The first rays of the sun broke through the small stuffy bedroom's window at the moment her feet touched the floor. She got up slowly; still tired after a mere five hours of sleep, limbs stiff and aching, head dizzy. She went to her computer to stop the playing song that had awakened her, and stood still just for a few seconds, soaking up the singer's melancholic voice.
Night is near, beginning ending
Dawning dark the skies are sending
Cry of black and cry of sorrow
End of light and end of morrow
"How strangely appropriate for today," she thought. On a day when everyone would celebrate and praise humanity's greatest victory, all she wanted was to disappear into one of the room's dusty corners.
It was December 10, 2114. Exactly one year ago, Hell had come to Earth.
No one knew how and why this ever happened. At one moment, it was the normal sunny morning of another normal day of work and routine. The next moment, the sky was torn by colossal crimson rifts, which opened the way for the hordes of beings that defied reality and looked more like the grotesque product of a madman's imagination. They were demons - twisted and evil, burning with rage, enemies of all life.
Shocked and horrified beyond all reason, humanity rushed to the awaiting evacuation ships, only to find itself trapped in the fiery grasp of an unholy barrier that the invaders had brought with them from the depths of Hell.
One terrible night later, the barrier disappeared mysteriously, and the humans escaped into orbit, to reorganize and think of how they could retake their world. Some twenty-four hours later, the demons retreated as suddenly as they had appeared.
No one could ever solve the mystery of their sudden defeat, though there were numerous legends of how a single man, against all odds, infiltrated Hell through its own portals, and defeated the invaders' leader in a furious battle... No proof of that could ever be found, and it all seemed to be an urban legend. The mysterious hero never showed up – he was either dead or purely fictional...
Indulged in these thoughts, she finished brushing her teeth, put on her favorite t-shirt, and went out into the gloomy living room. Her eyes stopped for a moment on the two armchairs. Her parents used to sit there in the evening...
She could almost hear the words. "Good morning, Lena. Did you sleep well?" That's how her mother would greet her every morning with a ready cup of hot tea. These were the words she would never hear again.
Lena left the building and headed towards downtown. As one of the editors of the largest local newspaper, she spent several nights working on the special issue for 10 December, the issue dedicated to the first anniversary since Hell came to Earth.
There were many traces to remind her, and all humanity, of that day. Some buildings in her neighborhood still had eerie animal-like scratches and traces of fire or bullet marks on their walls – a reminder for the people who still had their homes. A small park she walked by was gray and desolate, as the earth itself was burned and lifeless, without a single leaf of grass grown for the last year – a mere shadow of the thousands of acres of corrupted land all over the planet, which could probably stay dead forever.
As Lena kept walking, she was not alone. Not entirely. The memories haunted her, vivid images of the day that had changed her life...
...The crowd of refugees kept running away from the city, bathed in the eerie crimson light that emanated from the broken sky. There were dark shapes coming out of the gateway – things that hurt the eyes of those who looked at them. Distorted, unnatural things. Screams, faces overcome by fear... then an explosion... one of the men gave out a horrible animal-like cry and his face changed its color to a sickly gray. He grabbed the woman running along him and buried his teeth in the exposed flesh of her throat... the smell of freshly spilled blood filled the air...
Lena followed the color-coded markings, which indicated the safe route to downtown. The "cleaner" squads had already been in town, yet all citizens were advised to stick to the marked paths and avoid going anywhere near abandoned buildings or lonely places. Single surviving demons still lurked in the shadows of the night, some of them hid in the sewers under cities. You could sometimes hear their growling after midnight... The restrictions would be in place until it was guaranteed that local infestation was zero and the area was safe.
...The tunnels were supposed to be safe. The crowd rushed forward – the panic had dissipated a bit, now that they could no longer see the crimson glow that emanated from the sky. A few of the refugees had undergone a shocking transformation that made them attack and viciously bite others. Madness was already taking its toll... Then, one of the walls was knocked down by an explosion. An ominous metallic clank preceded the arrival of a huge creature – a minotaur-like nightmare with one metal leg. It raised its left arm and pointed it at the refugees...
Lena walked past a section of the town that was completely leveled. The various piles of debris formed a landscape that sci-fi writers before Hell on Earth used to describe as "post-apocalyptic." The poor bastards had no idea... but now everyone had first-hand knowledge of an apocalypse. Everyone who survived...
From that area she could see as far as the outskirts of town – there were a few larger industrial buildings. Many of them bore hideous scars, large holes in the walls, and scorched spots. The rumors said there were still demons and some of their zombified human puppets hiding somewhere in the old factory. Two clean-up teams of space marines were scheduled to arrive within a few days and perform CnC. That meant – "check and clean-up."
Lena's thoughts drifted back to sci-fi writers. The current most popular theme of the newly emerged stories and novelettes was the great savior of humanity. A single man, most likely a space marine, who fought legions of demons all by himself and won. The people wanted to believe there was a hero. A hero has a name and a voice. A hero could be interviewed, put on the front page of a newspaper, and adored by the public. Politicians could shake hands with him and pose for photo sessions. A hero has a face, unlike the Space Marine Corps or the CnC Teams. They remained anonymous. They never talked to anyone. Their faces were always hidden in their helmets...
...The refugees felt a bit of relief when they saw the familiar sight of space marine helmets ahead. The men in green and gray uniforms unleashed the fury of their plasma guns upon the unseen enemy that was advancing from another dark tunnel. They were keeping them at bay, yet the demons just kept coming – their numbers seemed to be unlimited... unlike the ammo supply that was running lower with every passing second. The marines were doomed and they knew it. They were doing their best to let as many refugees as possible escape from the tunnels. Lena just walked forward, without a sense of direction. The image of her parents was still before her eyes. They were caught in one of the explosions as the creature with the metal leg methodically slaughtered the crowd with its rocket launcher. She saw her mother lying on the ground. Her face was...
Lena stopped abruptly. That memory resurfaced for the first time since last year and hit her pretty hard. She felt sick but tried to pull herself together fast... she had too much work to do. Work was the only thing to protect her from her memories. Without noticing, she had already reached downtown. The preparations for the victory celebrations were already underway. She looked at the invariably smiling officials and petty local politicians. She looked at the people. The people! Did they really deserve to be saved?
Humanity was in no way better after Hell on Earth. People would still cheat, lie, steal, and murder, just as they did before. They would kill each other, as if trying to finish what the demons had started. Regional conflicts that had remained dormant for years were rekindled in an instant. National leaders all over the globe used the opportunity to strengthen their own positions, invade their neighbors, and acquire new territories. It's a miracle that major wars did not erupt – the armies were probably stopped by the grim realization that they were about to fight mere months after humanity nearly faced extinction.
If there really was a hero, some "grand savior" of humanity, he would likely be disgusted when he saw the world he had defended. Lena wondered if he would regret his decision, if he would rather see the world burn along with all of humanity.
At that moment a crooked smile briefly appeared on her face. For a fleeting second, a thought, heretical and unimaginable, had crossed her mind.
Perhaps it would have been better if the demons had won...
