I'm gonna start trying to keep these chapters short, like 4-6k words, to get them posted quicker.
I don't own Doom or Dead Space.
Bold-My Own Words
Bold & Italic-Locations, Time & Calendar
"Bold"-Demon/Deity Speech
'Bold'-Demon/Deity Thinking
Normal-Narrative
"Normal"-Person Speaking
'Normal'-Thoughts
"Italic"-Foreign Language
'Italic'-Radio Chatter
/Italic\-AI/Computer typing
Theme Song for Chapter:
'Mick Gordon - Super Gore Nest (Remastered V2 Remix)' by 'the_kovic' on Youtube.
Battle Song for Chapter:
'Mick Gordon - Slayer Gates (Meathook) (Remastered V2 Remix)' by 'the_kovic' on Youtube.
February 7, 2511
Sol System
Saturn's Orbit
Titan Station
Titan Heights
Tower 4
Elevator going up to Level 23
The elevator shook violently as something exploded in the distance. The Scourge of Hell paid no mind to it, popping his neck as he patiently waited for the elevator to take him to his destination. No undead abominations had tried clawing in through the ceiling this time. Just a silent ride to his destination. Time for contemplation, something he never enjoyed. Right now, one thing was nagging his head. His memories were jumbled and distorted. Damaged. Unclear. No doubt a side-effect from being shot in the fucking head. But he remembered enough to know who he was, what his purpose was, and how he'd ended up here missing his Praetor suit.
Kara.
The name stuck like a tumor in his head. It enraged him to think that Hell would stoop to such a level as to imitate him in an attempt to defeat him. And what enraged him further was that it had worked... to a degree. He had been caught off guard in a very rare instance and it was only due to Kara's overconfidence, a trait common amongst those who serve Hell, that had kept him alive. Never again. The next time he saw her, the Doom Slayer was going to tear her to pieces. And yet, despite the fury, for some reason, there was some other strange feeling rising in his mind as he thought of the name Kara. For some reason, her name was familiar to him and he couldn't for the life of him fathom why-
The elevator suddenly announced he had arrived at the 23rd level of the building as the doors opened. 'Back into the meat grinder,' The Hellwalker thought coldly as he raised his shotgun and stepped out of the elevator onto the empty silent floor before him. The whole floor looked like a warzone as far as he could see. Smoke was rising out of a couple of stores. The only sign there had been anyone or anything here was the large bloodstains and occasional chunk of gore scattered across the room. Some of it looked human. Some of it didn't. And according to that lieutenant, they were trapped somewhere on this floor. The Slayer scanned the room methodically, searching for hostiles. Nothing. Not a speck of life. He scowled, knowing exactly what this felt like.
And seconds later, his instincts proved correct.
It started with the sounds of skittering and hissing. Whines and cries of damned souls echoed from the darkest reaches of the room. Narrowing his eyes in contempt, the Slayer calmly looked around the room as the noise slowly grew louder. The wails and hissing seemed to come from all sides, notifying the Slayer that he was likely surrounded on all sides. It sounded like there were hundreds lurking about, waiting to strike.
Good. He could use a good slaughter session to get the blood pumping. Soon enough, the monsters burst from their hiding spots and sprung their 'ambush.'
Hundreds seemed to storm out around him, swarming to slay the lone human. Seems like they finally realized just how much of a threat he actually was. To his disgust, the Slayer saw that not even the children were spared from being turned into nightmarish monstrosities by the Necromorphs as scores of them, skin pale of pigment and hands sharpened into claws, swarmed out alongside other Necromorph forms, shrieking and howling in a twisted version of a child's scream. And just like their bigger necromorphs, these 'packs' of child necromorphs died in droves as the Slayer blasted them apart with his shotgun. Twin blasts of 12-gauge shells blasted apart bodies while the Slayer would use his bare hands to tear off limbs and turn frail forms into a gory paste.
Wanting to thin their numbers out quickly, as he did have places to be, the Doom Slayer swapped out his shotgun for the chaingun and spun up the barrels. The roar of the chaingun's fire was almost as deafening as the horde of necromorphs around him as its bullets tore shredded the bodies of undead around him. One of the 'pack' attempted to lunge onto his back, only to be grabbed by the throat and slammed beneath the Slayer before being mercilessly curb-stomped. A 'leaper' necromorph attempted to lunge straight at him and maul him, only to have the chaingun's barrels jammed into its gapping fanged mouth and blasted to pieces by dozens of high-velocity rounds.
The Necromorphs, as their numbers dwindled, became more savage and furious in their attack, determined to kill this lone human that dared oppose them and the convergence. But the Slayer was no mere man. He was death incarnate, a fiery sword of retribution against all wickedness that would dare prey on the innocent. And retribution he delivered. With either bullets or bare hands, the Scourge of Hell tore his way through the horde of undead monsters that swarmed him, blasting apart one with his weapons then turning around and tearing another apart with his bare hands. The horde dwindled down until there was naught but torn gory chunks left sprawled across the floor and walls. As the last of the Necromorphs died their vicious and brutal deaths, silence filled the area around him once more.
This time, no demons appeared to join in on the carnage. In fact, their numbers seemed quite small and limited from what he's seen so far. For the Slayer, this was a good sign. It meant that their invasion had only just begun and could be stopped before the 'actual' invasion begins, in the form of the vanguard opening a portal connecting directly to Hell and allowing legions upon legions of Hellspawn to invade and consume another world.
All he has to do is locate the source of the invasion and stop it before it begins. Then he can worry about getting rid of these Necromorph fucks.
He continued into one of the hallways, scanning the surroundings for any more inhuman assholes looking to pick a fight, and only slightly disappointed that nothing sprung out. All that he would come across were the gruesome remains of various scenes of slaughter and carnage. More than once, he would pass by stores, hallways, even entire plazas that seemed to be painted in gore. Doors torn down, vents ripped open with bloody trails and handprints leading up to them. Pure carnage all around. And the innocent were paying the price.
All this made his blood boil, his muscles tense up with barely contained fury. Someone was going to answer for this.
The Doom Slayer made his way through bloodied hallways and courtyards, dealing with the occasional roaming Necromorph that foolishly attacked him. A few would attempt to play dead, while others would just simply charge at him, only to be brutally torn to pieces by either shotgun or bare hands. Their almost single-minded nature made them surprisingly easy to deal with compared to his usual foes. (At least demons were smart enough to try and avoid getting hit.) Aside from this, there was little in the way of opposition, and he had a suspicion as to why.
'They're all going to where the prey is.'
Picking up the pace, the Slayer could faintly hear what sounded like a crescendo of growls, snarls, and inhuman howling as his nav-system directed him to around a corner. He shouldn't be too far from the-
As he rounded the corner to where the maintenance sector was, he immediately discovered the source of the chorus of nightmarish sounds.
The maintenance sector was blocked off with a bulkhead that was sealed shut, and currently, the only thing keeping the horde of what must have been over a hundred Necromorphs from breaching into the maintenance bay and slaughtering the survivors inside. The Slayer noticed that several of the vents in the hallway and above the bulkhead had their covers torn open but none of the Necromorphs were attempting to use them, though with the massive blood trails leading into them it was clear that they had been used by the undead monstrosities. 'Must have sealed off the vents somehow.' The Necromorphs were being held at bay, but only temporarily. They would eventually find a way in and slaughter those hiding inside. But only if he allowed them.
And he wasn't.
Summoning the chain-gun, the Doom Slayer began spinning up its barrels just as some of the Necromorphs finally noticed him behind their horde of snarling, twisted forms. The first of the slashers just had enough time to howl at the Slayer before dozens of hyper-sonic rounds turned it into gory mulch, followed by several of its eldritch brethren in rapid succession. Limbs and bodies are torn asunder, their roars and howls drowned out by the roar of the chaingun. The horde, now completely aware of the Slayer's presence, changes targets and begins charging towards their attacker. The hallway is painted with gore as the Doom Slayer fires nonstop, blasting into the horde with barely contained contempt. By the time the first of the Necromorphs finally manage to reach him, barely a couple of dozen are still 'alive,' to which the Slayer swaps out the chaingun for his combat shotgun to begin blasting them apart at point-blank range.
Several Slashers and Leapers simply disintegrate before him as shotgun pellets blast their bodies apart, while other Necromorphs are rip apart with the Slayer's bare hands, clawed limbs being used as melee weapons to tear apart more of their undead brethren. Occasionally, the Slayer would receive a hit or two from the undead monsters, but none were able to do more than superficial damage and merely piss him off even further. One slasher was split apart down the middle with the Slayer's hands, while another lost its legs from a shotgun blast and was then thrown across the hallway into one of its counterparts as a projectile, sending both of the creatures down in a twisting thrashing mass of limbs. A Leaper had its tail blown off and received a boot firmly in between its shoulder blades that splattered its torso.
One of the bloated 'pregnant' looking necromorphs came lumbering towards the Slayer, only to receive an explosive shot from the contact beam squarely in its guts, blasting the grotesque creature apart into several thrashing pieces as small animated bits of flesh came crawling out of what used to be the pregnant's swollen sac. All these swarmers achieved was to merely be crushed under the Slayer's boots as he tore a twitcher limb from limb with his bare hands, before headbutting another slasher. The momentarily stunned necromorph barely had time to roar out before it and a couple more slashers beside it were blown apart by a contact beam round.
The Doom Slayer could hear the sounds of the bulkhead opening up as he finished off the last of the Necromorphs, blasting apart their bodies as their death wails echoed throughout the corridors around them. The hallway leading up to the bulkhead was painted in blood and gore, with an occasional limb twitching or the sounds of gurgled groan could be heard amongst the scores of eviscerated bodies and monsters. He turned around to see a trio of lasers aimed at his chest, the lasers belonging to three Titan Station Security Officers aiming their pulse rifles at him, while another one was stationed at the bulkhead door watching the vents around them. Hoisting the shotgun up onto his shoulder, the Slayer could tell just by their slowed and hesitant movements that they really didn't want to approach him, having likely watched him annihilate a horde of necromorphs with ease on a security camera or two, and were likely being ordered to by the lieutenant or whoever their immediate superior was.
The Slayer, not intimidated in the slightest, eased his stance as he watched them approach him.
The lead officer looked around at all the carnage and, well, slaughter that had been caused by one man, in disbelief, before looking back at the man who was responsible for it. His pulse rifle was aimed straight at the Slayer's chest, but it was clear to the Hellwalker that the man before him had no interest in picking a fight with him. Slowly, the Slayer decided to speak up, "Lieutenant Ming's men?"
The lead officer paused as he looked up at the Slayer, then slowly said, "Maybe. Who's asking? You're definitely not Jones."
'No shit, genius. What gave it away, my 7-foot stature?' The Slayer thought in annoyance, knowing the officer was just trying to stall for whatever reason. And time was the one thing they didn't have on their side, "I'm your best hope of getting off this station alive, so quit fucking around and take me to your lieutenant."
He took an aggressive step towards the officer to get his point across, which immediately had all of the officers suddenly raise up their weapons at the sudden move. But the first officer quickly motioned for them to stand down, which they did so reluctantly. The officer before seemed as though he was really hesitant to let such an unknown in amongst both his officers and hundreds of civilians, but judging by the sounds of someone's voice blaring out of his comm-unit, it sounded like he was being overruled. "Dammit. Alright, come on. Back inside and seal the bulkhead before more of those things show up. Move!"
The security team was quick to move back through the bulkhead, watching every possible door and vent that the Necromorphs could possibly come out of as they moved back into the relative safety of the maintenance sector. The Slayer, meanwhile, was as calm and collected as ever as he walked through the gory aftermath of his fight into the maintenance sector as if he hadn't been fighting through hordes of monsters all day. As soon as he walked through, the bulkhead immediately began to lock down behind him, the security team watching the opening the entire time as the bulkhead door closed back down. As soon as it did, the officers all seemed to have eased up slightly, as if their trial was over. The Slayer knew better. Until these people were at the spaceport and on a ship out of here, they were anything but safe.
The Slayer followed the group of officers as they proceeded down a small hallway, where at the end of it a couple of guards were manning what could be described as an improvised position with a chaingun set up to cover the hallway they were coming down. Unlike the one the Slayer had picked up and been using, this one seemed automated or remotely controlled, slowly swerving back and forth as it scanned for targets. The two officers manning the position eyed the Slayer, wary of this supposed newcomer that had somehow annihilated an entire horde of undead monsters by himself, but otherwise said nothing aside from whispered conversation between them. He ignored them and continued following the 4-man squad into the main hub for the maintenance sector.
Entering through the door, he was greeted by the sight of dozens upon dozens of civilians milling about, hushed conversations, nervous glances, and panicky movements as they attempted to figure out their next course of action or awaited instruction. What handful of security personnel that were present was doing their best to maintain order, but it was clear to everyone that they had any true control over the situation on the station. Several of the civilians had bloodied clothing or bandage wrapping, indicating they had survived an attack from the undead monsters. Off in one of the corners, there were nine bodies laid out, covered over with tarps to hide them from the civilians. Several people, particularly children, could be heard whimpering or crying. The murmuring and whispers only seemed to intensify when they all began noticing his massive frame walking into the room. The air was thick with the stench of fear and horror. The Slayer's bulging muscles tensed up as his rage built up for but a moment, angered at what these innocents had been forced to endure, before quickly controlling his temper. There would be plenty of opportunities to exert his rage later. He glanced up at the ceiling and walls around him, noticing that all of the vents, aside from a handful that was barely larger than one's fist in diameter, had been reinforced with massive steel plates welded over them, easily a foot thick each. A smart solution, but unfortunately a temporary one. If the size of the hordes on this station were any indication as to how far spread the infestation was, it would only be a matter of time before the Necromorphs managed to break in, either by some unknown entryway or through sheer brute force. Some of the people, including the officers, seemed to have realized this as the Slayer caught several of them occasionally glancing at the vents. It was a race against time.
And this was assuming that the Hellspawn wouldn't come snooping around. No welded doors or vents would keep them out if they decided to break in. If these people wanted to live, they needed to get off the station. Now.
The Slayer was escorted towards one officer who was overseeing some wounded individuals, helping what seemed to be the only two medical personnel in the room with their wounds as the Slayer approached. His helmet was retracted back, giving the Slayer a view of the man's facial features. As his name suggested, the man seemed to be of Chinese descent and probably pushing 50, his face weathered by age and a hairline that was receding. Despite this aged appearance, his eyes gave off the sharpness and vigor of a man half his age as he briskly paced about amongst the wounded, helping out the medical staff however he could. But his attention was grabbed when one of the officers spoke up, "Lieutenant Ming... He's here."
Ming stood up from the woman he was tending to, grunting as he did, "So you made it. Impressive. Now explain to me who... the... hell..." Ming turned around as he spoke, but his words were suddenly caught in his throat when he saw just how massive the Slayer was compared to him. At 7'0", the Slayer towered over the 5'7" Tian Ming, with easily a 100-pound difference in weight. The Lieutenant considered himself a hardened man, decades serving in law enforcement and seeing some of the worst crimes committed between fellow men would do this to you, but the Slayer's gaze seemed to pierce through him as if he was an angel of death judging the worthiness of his very soul.
"Lieutenant Ming?" was all the Slayer asked. This seemed to snap the officer out of his stupor, recollecting himself then giving a quick nod before saying, "Well, I don't know how you've managed to fight your way through so many of these things, but you're here as you said you'd be. Now I guess you can sit here and wait for help to arrive."
"No one's coming for you." The Hellwalker responded, "I am the help."
"How?!" The Lieutenant exclaimed, "Hundreds of those things overran the Evac Site, not to mention that massive monstrosity that came barreling in. I'm down to 12 officers including myself, and I doubt even you can handle that many." Ming turned away momentarily, snarling out, "Damn you, Bartlett!"
"Who?"
Ming sighed, "Colonel Victor Bartlett. My superior. He was ordered by Tiedemann to take some men into the mines to try and contain the outbreak at its source. Took his entire platoon and half of my company with him to the mines, then sent some of them to the hospital when Tiedemann sent that strange order. I haven't heard from any of them since they went, and that was over 4 hours ago!" Ming clenched his fists tightly, a grimacing scowl on his face before relaxing it into a solemn expression. Looking up to the Slayer, he asked, "You came from Titan Memorial. Did you find any survivors? Did anyone else make it?"
"... If they did, I never saw any of them." Was the Slayer's only response. The Lieutenant's shoulders slumped, but the expression on his face had shown he'd already known the answer but had held out hope on being wrong. Shaking his head softly, he could faintly hear the officer mutter, "Goddammit." under his breath.
The Slayer then pulled out the bracelet he'd received from Micah, offering it to the Lieutenant, "From one of your men. Micah Belmont. He asked me to give this to his wife."
"Corporal Belmont? You found him?" Ming asked, to which the Hellwalker nodded in affirmation. Taking the bracelet from him, Ming then followed up, "But he didn't make it." It was more a statement than a question. Again, the Doom Slayer nodded, "He went down fighting. Took hundreds of the bastards with him."
The officer was silent for a moment, staring at the bracelet as if lost in thought, before speaking up, "I'll make sure she gets this. It'll probably be easier for her to hear it from me than from you... No offense." This merely earned a nod of understanding from the Hellwalker, but Ming was quick to follow up, "But that doesn't answer my initial question. How are we going to clear out the Evac Site from all of those things? We don't have the firepower or manpower to clear them out long enough for everyone to get on board."
"Let me worry about clearing them out. You just be ready to move when I clear it."
"Wait. You're going to go there? Alone?! And kill all of those things?!" One of the officers around them suddenly spoke up, "You're insane. There must be hundreds of them. You'd never make it!"
"Made it to you, didn't I?"
"Yeah, while lugging around a fucking chaingun! How much ammo do you even still have for that thing?!" The officer exclaimed.
"Enough. And if I don't, I'll just use my bare hands." The Slayer simply answered, which caused the officer to throw his hands up in disbelief, muttering something about them being 'screwed.' He simply ignored the officer. It wouldn't be the first time he's had someone question his capabilities (and to be fair, the officer didn't exactly have much reason to think otherwise.), and explaining his powers would have been a waste of time. The Slayer didn't need them to understand or agree. He'd simply just show them firsthand. But first thing's first.
"Where's Tiedemann?" He asked, which earned a look of confusion from Ming. "Why? He's not exactly our most pressing concern at the moment."
"Need to have a chat with him." The Slayer responded. Good intentions or not, Tiedemann had been responsible for all of this death and destruction because he tampered with elements beyond his understanding, despite all the warning signs and past incidents to help tell him it wasn't the best idea. And the only way to stop it would be to destroy the Marker that's bringing all of these Necromorphs to life. Chances are if Tiedemann's still alive, then he knows where the Marker is, which will make his job a lot easier.
"You know the Director or something?"
"I'm about to." He answered darkly.
"Look, whatever you need to discuss with-" Ming started to argue, but the Slayer quickly closed the distance, staring down the man in front of him with a look of annoyance. Leaning forward slightly, the Slayer looked dead into Ming's eyes and said only two words.
"Call. Him."
The stern, fiery look in the giant of a man's features was all Ming needed to know that, should he refuse or resist, that this... man wouldn't hesitate to use force to get what he wanted. And the scary part was, Ming was seriously beginning to question if they actually could stop him.
Alright, sooo... I clearly have some explaining to do. Especially after I told everyone months ago that this chapter was almost done.
So first thing, I wasn't lying when I said the chapter was almost finished, I just didn't finish it in time to get it posted before I went off to AT. Even worse when I came back, I discovered that my files in Fanfiction had gotten corrupted and I was forced to scrap them. Thankfully I had spare copies in my Microsoft Word account, but I hadn't updated the Doom-Dead Space one before I left (Particularly the Isaac Clark part of this chapter, which I've decided to include in the next chapter), which meant that a good portion of the material I'd written was now lost and would have to be rewritten. The second thing that's happened is that my Deviantart (Azores-1994) profile has kinda kicked off some, especially with the release of a manga adaptation of my Halo-Naruto story, and the development of that manga has kinda taken priority over everything, unfortunately. However, as I stated before, I'm not abandoning Fanfic or any of my stories on here, it's just that they're gonna be uploaded at a slower pace now due to a shift in priorities.
I would also like to note that in the future, I'd love to work on a potential graphic novel adaptation of Doom-Dead Space, as I think it would be amazing to do and I think a lot of you would love it. Let me know in the reviews what you think about this idea.
Anyway, that's all for now. Hope you enjoyed reading this chapter and I'm really sorry it took so long to get out. Let me know what you think of it in the reviews and I'll see you next time.
-Azores
