Ok, erm... this fic isn't the usual action-packed D3 fic, so if that's what you're looking for, sorry. Check out my other D3 fic for that kind of stuff. In here I decided to focus on the interior battles going on within the characters. Each chapter will focus on one character, not more. Oh, and it might seem like the beginning of chapters just picks up anywhere...well, yeah, they do. I like doing that. I assume you know the plot already, so cope. Otherwise, well...there's this big base on Mars full of demons from hell, basically :)

Disclaimer: I don't own doom, only the characters I create in my stories, and I'm not particularly attached so what the hell lol.

Name: James Wall
Post: Marine security
Location: Mars City, UAC main complex

James slumped into the torn work chair, sending it sliding backwards slightly. He was exhausted. He couldn't cope with it… . Too much…too…hard. Too…many. Friends…gone. He took a deep breath and tried to keep his head cool. The occasional smashing on a distant wall or slamming of a far away door would make him jump. The room he was in was utterly silent, except for a recorded UAC message playing over and over again on the console he was sitting at.

"Video link-up requested. Video link-up requested. Video…".

On the small screen, the UAC logo spun slowly. He closed his eyelids.

"Video link-up requested."

He was drifting away…

"Video link-up requested."

Just…sleep.

"Scared, bitch?"

James jerked into an erect position and stared around. His gaze came across the console screen, and…the UAC logo had been replaced by a gruesome face, vaguely human, with charred skin, yellow teeth, grinning and laughing at him. The figure's laughter seemed to grow, to shake the very walls of the room he was in. James panicked. This was all a fucking nightmare. He triggered the door lock, but it wouldn't budge.

"Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha"

James turned, brought the cannon of his shotgun to bear down on the screen, and blasted it to bits in a shower of sparks. The laughter only seemed to grow, but the door hissed open. James stumbled out. The dark corridor extended on either side of him. A valve was hissing steam down the way to his left, and seemed to be blowing a smell of rotting flesh towards him. He turned right. He limped down the corridor, clutching his gun, shaking his head occasionally as if he could keep the demons out that way. The demons…they weren't only around him. They were in him, and their foothold was rapidly growing. They brought him visions, tormented him, attempted to drive him mad. James actually fell to his knees without noticing it.

He could see his mother. She was screaming for mercy as a behemoth advanced on her. She fell over backwards and curled into a ball against the wall, whimpering in useless panic. The giant creature bent over her and grabbed her around the waist with its fist, with the greatest of ease. She screamed. The creature brought her to its mouth, and-

"NO!"

James shouted, and fell forwards, catching himself on his elbow. He was lying on his stomach in the middle of the dark corridor, sweat streaming down his forehead and back. What the fuck was he doing? It wasn't safe here, he had to find a place to set up a fort, per Sarge's orders. He would barricade his position, and they would find him…sure they would. Suuure they would… Shut up! The voices, the fucking voices.

James smacked himself on the head and trudged along down the corridor. He arrived in a dark room, lit only by a glittering neon light. He had smashed his flashlight in his initial chase, so he couldn't do anything to better his situation. In front of him there was a double-door with a flickering panel. Smashed. To his right, a small crawlspace dug into the wall amid a jumble of wires and cables, and a small trickle of blood seeping through and dropping to the floor in an eerily regular fashion. Uninviting. To his left, a walkway that overhung maintenance sections, and led to god-knows-where. James engaged upon the walkway, and had barely walked four or five meters when he heard a grunt. He froze, lifting his shotgun in front of him, peeking over his shoulder, even searching the ceiling. Another grunt, followed by some scuffling sounds. Damn it. The thing was under him. He dropped his gaze down, and could see, through the holes in the metal walkway, a grey shape clinging on with all fours, hissing at him.

"You motherf…

The creature's claws extended and tore the ground right out from under his feet. He plummeted at least five meters before smashing to the ground in a hump. The creature was all over him almost immediately. He screamed as a claw tore at his already wounded leg and eager teeth tore strips of flesh from his body. Grasping around, his fingers came across the barrel of his shotgun, which he brought smashing down onto the skull of his attacker. The creature yelped and jumped off him, straight onto the wall on his right. Its yellow eyes glinted in the dark as it hissed at him, but before it could lunge again it found itself staring straight into the single eye of a 12-gauge shell. The boom echoed through the sublevels as James blew the bastard's brains out, sending it flying backwards off the wall. He clutched his leg and jammed his eyes shut against the pain. It hurts, doesn't it? Shut up…please shut up… Wish you were back home with your bitch, eh? Shut up! Nice slut. I bet she would make a nice add-on to one of our hellish orgies… With a mad roar, James lunged out in front of him…at nothing. He flew through the air and felt his fingers crack as he slammed his fist against the steel wall. "You fool" His conscious self thought. "Don't let them get to you."

"Hello?"

James got up, clutching his shotgun in his good hand. Someone was still alive down here.

"Anyone here? I heard a gunshot? Anyone alive?"

James grunted, and limped in the direction of the call. A rather smallish and frightened technician crept around the corner, holding a flashlight in one hand and a wrench in the other. As he spotted James, he looked like could skip with glee at the sight of a living marine. James however, just starred at him, nonplussed. Civilians to defend. Great. I've got enough trouble keeping my own ass out of the fire. The tech walked up to him at began blabbing wildly about how he had been working down here when the Quake happened, how he had hidden in a small storage room since, how the demons had not known he was there.

"They seem to have an incredible sense of smell." He said. "Several times, I heard heavy snuffling right outside my door, and I thought I was a gonner. I thought he was going to smell me, bust down the door and eat me. It was really horrible, I…"

"Please, just…shut up." Muttered James.

Kill him.

Fuck off.

The tech looked somewhat abashed.

"Are…are you coming to rescue me? Are you coming to get me out of this mess? Is your squad waiting up there on the catwalk?"

I'm here to wipe your ass raw you little son of a bitch.

James slapped his head again. The tech had backed away against the opposite wall, and was now looking at him in a terrified way.

"What the hell did you mean by that? Are you…are you one of them? Say something! Get the hell away from me!"

James didn't understand what…he couldn't have…had he just said?...anger boiled up red hot inside of him at his own inaptitude to keep a clear mind, and he positively slugged himself this time. The technician yelled in fright and ran back around the corner into the shadows.

"W-wait!" James croaked, through a bloodied lip.

He arrived at the door of the storage room just as the tech slammed it shut.

"Open the door!"

"Fuck off!"

He could hear the tech sobbing inside the room. Or at least he thought he could. There were sobs all around him. The ground seemed to wobble under his feet. Wails, sobs, screams. James clutched his head.

Kill him.

No way. Fuck off. I won't do it.

Kill him and I'll make it stop.

Fuck you.

Want to see your bitch die again?

And the vision of his terrified and crying mother, backed into a corner by a hulking demon came rushing back to him. James screamed.

Do it.

No!

His mother screamed as the demon tramped nearer.

Do it.

No!

The demon was on her now, it grabbed her leg and tore…James screamed again.

Do it and it'll end.

James didn't answer. He was kneeling before the door, sobbing uncontrollably. His vision was blurred. His mind was a mess. He couldn't cope with the visions anymore. He couldn't see his mother suffer and die…not again… . His trembling and bloodied hand reached out for his shotgun.

Tut tut. Not with that. With that.

And his hand seemed to be drawn inexorably towards his combat knife, which had stayed in its sheath all along.

"You ugly bastard", James whispered.

Getting up slowly, clutching his knife in one hand, he hammered on the door again. He heard the tech give a yelp on the other side. After waiting a few seconds without response, James opened the door's control panel and sliced through the circuits with his knife. The door hissed open. The storage room was lit by a small failing bulb, and the tech's flashlight, which lay on a shelf by the door. The tech himself was cowering on the floor directly in front of James, his wrench at his feet, forgotten. James stepped in. The tech gave a sob. James grabbed him by the armpit and lifted him to his feet. He saw the man's eyes were red with tears, and he was jittery all over with panic, and then…his figures gave a spasm of momentary surprise as James dug the combat knife into his gut. A trickle of blood ran from his mouth. There was silence.

Again.

James threw the tech back against the wall where he slumped down, leaving a smear of blood above him. He grabbed him by the hair, drew he head backwards, and in a swift stroke, slit his throat. The tech gargled and died as a fountain of blood flowed down his front and onto James' hands and arms.

Again.

You ugly bastard.

He slashed again and again at the dead corpse, until the face and chest were reduced to an unrecognizable mound of flesh and bone.

James slowly backed away from the marred corpse, dropping his knife with a clatter. As realisation swept over him, his lunch came charging back up his throat and he threw up on the door's threshold. He wiped his mouth and screamed.

"I did it! You made me do it you bastard! Now stop it! Leave me alone!"

Tears came to his eyes again. He was a mess to behold. There was no response, only the same croaking laughter as before, shaking the very walls of the maintenance sections.

Don't you realize mortal, that you are my toy? I command you. You shall do my will.

"Fuck off! You can't win over me! You miserable piece of shit! Go back to hell where you belong!"

Why I am already in Hell, mortal. Now execute my will. Next door to your right, crawlspace. You will find the charred but living body of another technician. Do it again, and your sufferings will end.

"Fuck you! I'm not your puppet!"

And with that he picked up his shotgun. He had nothing to lose anymore, except his humanity. He'd rather be dead than become one of those rampaging and killing demons. Rather no life than a cursed one. He turned the rifle around and placed the barrel under his chin.

"You lose" he said.

And with that he blew his brains out.

…

Darkness.

Silence.

Sound.

What?

Distant screams, wails of agony.

A red glow.

Fire. Human shapes, writhing and thrashing on the ground, screaming for ever. Blades. Fleeting glimpses of white as the silent blades sliced at the denizens of Hell, insuring their eternal torment. The feeling of pain was almost palpable in the air. He could not be…no…please make it not be real…make it not be…

I win, mortal.

I always win.