**Disclaimer
I don't own Doom, nor Half-Life.
PS: Sierra rules!!!! (ID is nice too... ;) All who never played Half-Life -
please do. Although the 1st chapter is mostly about Doom, the story will slowly
turn into an almost entirely Half-Life one (I think I will move it from Doom to
Half-Life or Game Crossovers when that happens). Half-Life is a GREAT game.
Really. Well, it's *surely* better than Doom (by this I mean Doom II, of
course). Play it whether you like my story or not.
This
version of chapter one was edited for mistakes by Jetzer. Thank you Jetzer!
ChapteR OnE
His lungs were working overtime, trying to provide enough oxygen for the
bloodstream, so it could carry it on to the muscles.
His heart was beating very fast, trying to transfer enough oxygen to his muscle
cells, before the toxins rendered them useless.
He ran on and on.
Several lead bullets passed by him, nearly nailing his left shoulder. He
performed a roll on the floor, faced his enemies, raised his gun and fired!
His huge gatling machine-gun was dancing wildly in his hands, delivering it's
deadly payload toward his distant targets.
And those targets were people.
At least on the outside.
Several of them took direct hits to the head and collapsed on the ground, but
most of them were too far away for the bulky machine gun to be accurate.
The rest continued to advance slowly, their emotionless faces staring at him
with silent mocking.
"Aaaarrrgghhh!!!!", he screamed at them and charged. He dropped the
heavy machine-gun, and drew a pump-action shotgun instead, raining lead all
over the people ahead.
They seemed to hesitate for a second, then continued their approach towards
him, right through the hail of high-caliber bullets he was spraying at them.
A few were hit in their limbs, but they continued to walk without even wincing.
Several raised their rifles, shooting randomly in hopes of bringing the
charging man down.
But he would not be subdued that easily.
He continued to run. But he was out of ammo.
His hands moved with a blinding speed, and in a second he was shooting at the
zombie-like soldiers ahead with two Colt handguns.
He was now close enough to aim carefully, and he was no rookie in the
marksmanship department.
The bullets connected with the zombie's skulls, spilling out their brains,
causing them to drop on the ground immediately.
He gunned them all down without being tagged even once by the return fire.
Good, since his combat armor was in a bad condition as it is.
Suddenly, he heard a sound of bare feet running behind him, and spun around, to
see a vile pink creature charging at him from a few dozen meters away.
He raised his guns and unleashed hell upon the vile demon.
The magazines of both guns were completely emptied before the demon went down,
spraying red, almost human-looking blood all over the place.
In the meanwhile two more appeared, charging at him from the same direction as
the first one.
The empty magazines of both guns dropped to the ground, and he started to
search the pockets of his battle suit for new ones.
But he was out of ammo.
Realization downed upon his face, obscured by his combat helmet, as both demons
leapt toward him.
He jumped to the right and landed on his shoulder, performing a very
commendable roll.
The demons landed on the place he was occupying a moment ago, claws unsheathed,
eyes burning red.
But the human would NEVER surrender.
He drawn his last weapon from his backpack. His last line of defense before
he'd have to resort to knife-fighting.
His trusty chainsaw.
The demons gazed evilly upon him, and in a split-second were already thundering
towards him, vicious, drooling, ready to drink his blood.
"Not today, suckers!!!", growled the man, and raised his chainsaw
exactly at the moment that the demon leaped at him. The chainsaw, buzzing
wildly, cut through the demon's thick skull bone, turning his brain into a
milkshake.
He wasn't known by the name 'Doom' for nothing...
The man retrieved his chainsaw from the fallen demon's head just in time so he
could face his malevolent companion.
This one, seeing the death of his friend, was more careful.
He was circling his mortal prey slowly, trying to lull the man into a false
sense of security for a time. And then, the demon would strike, when he already
thought he won.
He knew their tactics all too well.
From personal experience.
One moment the demon was gazing onto the man's face with it's red, frenzied
eyes, and in the next it was already leaping, screaming supernaturally as it
did.
The demon met the same fate as the other one.
Doom, an old veteran of the war with these creatures and others like it, had
learned well that while they had tough bones, sharp teeth and awful temper,
what they lacked was patience.
Doom walked over to one of the zombie soldiers he killed earlier and cleaned
the blood of the now turned-off chainsaw using the man's khaki uniform.
He never knew this particular man personally, but he knew others like him who
turned into mindless minions of the invading forces of hell.
Some were once his best friends, some were his family.
But now they were long dead, by his own hands.
Though he knew they had already died the moment their soul was taken by Satan,
he could never shrug-off the feeling of guilt over their deaths.
He saw their empty mindless eyes, staring at empty air, right before he drove a
bullet through the head of each and every one of them.
That was YEARS ago.
It was a miracle how he has managed to survive all this time while Earth was
long since occupied by the unholy spirits.
He then went on and picked back up every weapon he dropped during the tense
fight.
He didn't bother with the cheap rifles of the zombies, as usual.
'Never count on anything that a non-human hand held', was Doom's number one
rule.
Now, his next worry would be to seek out a safe place to crash.
---
He was sleeping in some dark alley of the former city of Los-Angeles.
Sleep... a luxury indeed.
He never slept more than an hour at a time, and over the years he has become
very sensitive to all kinds of noises, often waking up from a slight rustling
of a leaf at autumn.
And sure enough, his eyes were suddenly opened wide as he heard something
coming.
Footsteps. Definitely footsteps. Doesn't sound human, too.
This day was beginning like so many other days before it.
He stood up from the rough ground, and picked up his good ole' weapons. They
were full of ammo now - he had found a weapons factory (well... a FORMER
factory) that still had plentiful supplies of ammo stored.
The demons never bothered to raid former human buildings, and there were no
other people around besides Doom to steal this stuff...
He was standing slightly crouched near the exit out of the alley, with the
shotgun ready to do short work of any foe that could appear from the street.
He tried to listen, to determine what kind of creature was he dealing here
with.
He hoped it wasn't anything serious - if it was a hell Knight, a Reviver or
(shudder...) a Cyberdemon, he was in deep shit.
But what he actually heard... it was some kind of.... language?
The demons NEVER spoke or said anything. They were only capably of growling. Or
were they?
Anyway, Doom knew that whatever it was, it couldn't possibly be human, not even
a zombie.
He braced himself - and went into action!
Doom jumped out of the alley, shotgun pointing in the direction of the weird
alien sounds. The moment he saw something brown, he pulled the trigger,
releasing half a dozen shells at his target.
The creature didn't even have any time to respond.
The bullets torn it apart, spraying green blood over the old cracked sidewalk.
Wait a minute... green?
Doom NEVER saw any monster that ever had green blood. Red - of course. Black -
all true spawns of hell had black blood. He even seen blue blood - or cooling
liquid - in the bodies of hellish mechanical spiders. But green blood?
In fact, he had never seen before this kind of creature, with brown fur and
big, insect-like eyes, coloured bright red. It looked almost... cute, if not
for it's sharp claws and ugly, insect-like mouth.
But overall, it hardly looked like a demon...
Suddenly, he heard a familiar sound behind him - someone, or better say
someTHING, just teleported into the street. Probably right from hell, as usual.
He spun around, just in time to see another creature similar to the one Doom
just fragged raising his hands, shouting something that was suspiciously
similar to the word "DIE!" in English...
Green lightning started to form in his clawed hands, and Doom fired.
Unfortunately, the creature wasn't very close to him, and only a couple of
bullets from the spread have tagged it. And although this thing wasn't as tough
as some of the other monsters Doom encountered in the past, it wasn't as
fragile as Doom hoped it'll be.
In the next moment the creature lowered its hands down and pointed them at
Doom.
Only his sharp reflexes saved him, as a powerful green lightning shot out of
the creature's hands, missing Doom by inches as he dodged the discharge.
Then Doom fired again, and a second time, and finally the creature collapsed to
the ground, spilling that same intriguing green blood.
Doom breathed with relief. It wasn't too tough.
But what the heck are these things? He had a gut feeling that they had nothing
to do with hell...
TO BE CONTINUED