DOOM Mod Oneshots

A/N: Wassup my readers? I am back with another oneshot for Doom Mods. This time around it is a crossover oneshot involving a good TC (Total Conversion) Mod titled Ashes 2063 and Naughty Dog's utter dumpster fire known as The Last of Us Part 2. I know, I know (I'm late, as the Cloaker says in Payday 2), TLOU2 is an absolute shitshow in terms of plot and message ("Hurr durr revenge bad, Hurr durr revenge no solve problem" yet Abby somehow gets away scot free and Ellie lost pretty much everything) with the gameplay pretty much being the same from the last one. This oneshot will be short so do not expect something long (that's what she said) this time around.

Still, might as well deliver of the X-Over bit of this anthology. I may do more crossovers with many other settings if this oneshot gets popular enough.

If you're wondering when does this oneshot takes place, it takes place right after Episode 01 of Ashes 2063 (I'm taking a bit of a creative liberty here and having the two Scavengers/Scavs/Scavvers of the base TC and the Dead Man Walking expansion/addon as the same guy, mostly because I'm not sure how Dead Man Walking fits in to the base timelines of Ashes 2063 or if they are canonically the same dude to begin with) and just before Joel goes 'golfing' with Abby. Let us see how our Scav fairs in a world straight out of the settings of George Romero and/or 28 Days Later and many more Viral Infection Post-Apocalypse settings just after surviving and thriving in a world inspired by Mad Max, Escape from New York, and many other iconic Collapse of Society Post-Apocalypse settings.

So yeah, feel free to enjoy or hate either the oneshot or me (or both).

[EDIT 12-27-2020 A.D.: I just checked the Ashes Afterglow thread on ZDoom. It is confirmed that they are the same guy, as according to ReformedJoe, Dead Man Walking (which is his mod and contribution to Ashes 2063) takes place before Ashes 2063.]


[Oneshot 02: A Scav in a new Post-Apocalypse]

Date Started: 07-22-2020 A.D.

Date Finished: 07-26-2020 A.D.

Date Edited: 02-12-2021 A.D.


[Unknown Location]

When he opened his eyes, he expected to be faced with rubble. That fight with that strange mutant with the body fused into its side and the Vulcan in its hands caused a good amount of damage to the room they were fighting in, especially the pillars holding up the roof. What the hell was that, anyway? That was the first time he saw a mutant look as fucked up as that one.

Or was it those two? Fuck it; it is still one body with two heads.

He thought the biggest he would face were the ones with the Master Blasters. Those were relatively easy to deal with. A couple of shotgun blasts, nearly a full mag from a battle rifle, some well-placed shots with the Junker Musket or a few well-timed and thrown pipe bombs brings them down quickly. That one, however? An absolute nightmare to deal with, with its unending supply of bullets and it being rather tanky in nature, being able to shrug off most attacks he sent at it.

Anyways, after the fight, he felt the entire bunker shake. The City had been struck hard during the War and the nuclear storms made it worse, collapsing more buildings with each storm that passes through the area. The pillars broke, one by one in quick succession, before bringing the roof down upon him. By all forms of logic, that should have been the end of the road for him. Whatever Athena, that damn useless computer, wanted, he would not be able to finish it. Some other gullible bastard will have to finish the job he and that other guy three years ago, who he long suspected was Barrett, had started.

So, when he woke up to see healthy trees covered in white dust (snow, he remembered hearing from a few scavengers, travelers and traders who came from the North), he immediately bolted to his feet. Someone had dragged him out of that bunker, out of the City, and into this weird place. It was cold, far colder than the sewers and anything further than a hundred yards was obscured by a storm of snow, the winds howling greatly in his ears. That made things harder, especially when riding on his bike where he can go a hundred miles an hour easily.

"Shit!" he cursed, a thought suddenly coming upon him. "My bike!" He looked around. Some bastards, probably the same ones that got him here, separated him from his bike. Bad enough he was in some godforsaken place, but someone had an absolutely brilliant idea to jack his ride?! Getting up to his feet, the Scav began to look around, on high alert and wary of whoever or whatever lurked behind the trees.

A flash glinted off from somewhere nearby, between two trees, making the Scav tense and instinctively reach for his Four-Five-Caliber Ruger Blackhawk revolver. He saw nothing but some metal. Curious but cautious of any hidden danger, the Scav got closer, revolver still in hand in case some ballsy bastard tried to jump him. Pushing away the suspiciously healthy bushes out of the way, the Scav was greeted by the sight of his ride. Relief sets in for him, seeing his trusty Hog still safe. The bags were still in here, too, carrying whatever he had left over since he ventured towards the Spire. A quick check showed that nothing had been taken or tampered with.

It looks like the tank has been filled up as well, judging by the meter as well as a quick look inside, meaning he can go a good distance before needing to fill up again. Quickly looking around, he saw no traces of anyone else. Strange, one would think they would take the bike and leave him to die. Seeing no point in idling around, the Scav gets onto his Hog and starts up the engine. Feeling the satisfying roar of the engine, the Scav rides off in this new land.

Passing through the dust-covered forest, the Scav eventually sees a clearing and brings the bike to a halt. Looking down, he can barely see an old concrete road a good distance down. He can drop down with his bike, but that will rough him up badly especially considering the weight of the cargo in the bags combined with the bike's own weight and his own weight. Looking around, he saw that this storm of white dust barely revealed a slope. Getting closer, he finds that he can glide down with the bike. Assuming he did not hit anything on the way down, that is.

Making his decision, he glides the bike down the slope, angling it occasionally to avoid a nearby obstacle or two.

Upon reaching the bottom, the Scav began to drive forward. As he rode on, he could hear what sounded like gunfire amidst all this howling wind. Call it instinct, but something told the Scav something horrible would happen.

Against better judgment, he followed the noise, riding faster than before. Once he got close enough, he saw a group of folks on horseback fleeing from a rather large group of mutants. He rode faster and brought his modified MAC-10 to bear, the gun's extended stock also acting as a brace for his arms and the suppressor aiding in accuracy and recoil control thanks to its weight and its extension the stubby barrel.

Once he got close, he fired off a burst of Nine-Em-Em into one of the closest mutants and surprising the group on horseback with his sudden appearance.


She had found him. After all these years, she had found the bastard responsible for her pain, Joel Miller. It was sheer luck that she had stumbled upon him, running from the Infected with another person, his brother Tommy Miller. She and her group arrived under the guise of helping them from the Infected. By sheer stroke of luck, they fell for it. Whether it was desperation or something else, Abby could not care. All that mattered was that this bastard will pay soon once they get back to their safe zone. Right now, the bastard sat behind her as she rode her horse back to base while the other guy rode on another horse.

A few shots were fired, from the bastard and from her group members, each bullet either knocking an Infected down or staggered it long enough to get away from.

"They're getting close!" one called out, riding near her, as he batted another away with his club. They were getting closer to the base, and the horde of Infected was still chasing them relentlessly.

"Hey, what's that sound?" another called out, confusing Abby and her passenger and no doubt the others as well. Before she could ask, she heard it as well.

A motorcycle, one with a rather loud engine, and it was getting closer. Then, from the blizzard, came the motorcycle, running over two or three Infected and bowling over those that were nearby. Worn and battered yet sturdy in frame, the machine clearly has been used for quite some time. The person riding on it, Abby could not tell the gender of as they wore clothing that hid their face and other notable parts well, a hood covered their head completely in addition to a cloth mask and tinted goggles. Any further details would be observed once this person stopped, preferably when they are all safe from the Infected.

The mysterious rider aimed a gun, a silenced sub-machinegun to her surprise, firing accurate bursts into each Infected, cutting their numbers down in droves. The rider was rather skilled with the weapon, removing the depleted magazine with one hand, dropping it into a satchel at the side of the bike in the same motion, and loading a new one to continue the drive-by slaughter of the Infected. Soon enough, the Infected were reduced to a handful which Abby and her group can deal with easily.

Once she saw the barred gates of the repurposed factory, she smiled. They had made it. The gates have been opened, the survivors manning it armed with some weapons to fend back the oncoming horde. The mysterious rider and their motorcycle passed through the gates first, followed by Abby and her group, the gates closing as quickly as they can to shut out the Infected. The Infected threw themselves at the gates, trying to get in.

A thrown flaming cocktail bottle through the bars set a good portion of them aflame, followed up with a few shots from whatever guns the survivors had on their person. The biker had already dismounted their ride, the silenced SMG in hand, and fired short bursts at the Infected, each one popping a head or separating a body part.

This person as clearly experienced, the way they handled themselves and the situation spoke that much to Abby and others that observed the biker.

"Save your bullets!" One of the survivors stationed there, Owen, called out as he and a few others came in with makeshift spears where they were immediately put to good use in safely stabbing each Infected in the head from their spot behind the gate.

The biker stopped, seeing that the other survivors can finish the job, putting away the SMG for the time being.

"Hey," Abby called out to the biker as she dismounted her horse alongside the bastard, "thank for the assist." The biker simply nodded.

As they were, Abby can get a good look on their mysterious ally. The build of the biker revealed that this was a man, a rather athletic one at that. In addition to the hood, the mask and the goggles, the man wore a set of makeshift armor made from a combination of thickened leather and segmented metal plates. His torso shoulders, elbows, arms, thighs, knees, and legs were covered in this patchwork armor. Abby craned her neck to look at the man, noting that he stood a head taller than her or anyone else barring their two 'passengers' who seem equal or so in height to this man. A large backpack was on his person, carrying something heavy judging by the sag it had at the bottom.

"Let's head inside," Owen, once he was sure all the Infected at the gates were dead, said as he led the others back inside their base. The bastard, Joel, grabbed the reins of the horse and led it, following Owen. The biker followed last, staying a good distance behind them. Abby frowned at that.

This person was suspicious of them, probably someone that is used to surviving all alone in the wilds.

As soon as they all entered the building, the others got to close the door. Once it as shut, the chilling blizzards no longer could reach them.

"You guys alright?" one woman in the group asked the two men. Just a little while longer and she will get her chance.

"We're good, thanks," the bastard's brother replied, securing the reins of the horse to one of the poles.

"Thanks again for the assist, man," Manny extended his hand to the biker who simply grunted in response and nodded. "Ooookay… Not a trusting person, are you?" Manny raised an eyebrow, more perplexed than offended by the unnamed biker's response. The biker simply shrugged again.

"You need help with that bike of yours?" another asked, the biker shaking his head as he secured the bike into its new parking spot.

Owen approached Abby, face grim, and spoke. "I need to talk with you," he gestured her to follow him to the adjacent room. Abby had her reservations, looking back at the two men and the unknown biker. She felt the biker's eyes one her, the goggles reflecting everything in front of them and hiding his eyes from everyone. She shivered at that, catching Owen's attention.

"Something wrong?" she waved his concern off as they entered the new room. Following close behind, in their own conversations, was Manny, Joel and Tommy, followed by the others. Once again, the biker kept distance, staying at the rear.

"How long y'all been here?" Tommy asked, curious about this place.

"Since yesterday," Manny answered. One of her members tried to close the door but the biker put a stop to that, acting like a wall, in a spot at the corner of the room where he could see everyone clearly. Owen noticed this as much as Abby.

"Hey now, we're among friends here," Owen tried to extend the olive branch. The biker simply nodded again but this time spoke to them for the first time.

"I'd rather be alert, if you don't mind," the voice was coarse, like someone who had not drank enough water per week.

"What're y'all doing out this way?" Joel asked.

"Just passing through," another of her group replied. "You guys live nearby?"

"We do," Tommy gestured to the window, "a few hours down the hill." Abby could see the biker palming his head in what appears to be annoyance.

"I'm just passing through, buddy," the biker answered when they looked his way.

"Y'all should come back with us. Restock before you head out." Again, Abby can see the biker palming his head. The biker muttered under his breath but what that none caught clearly.

"Appreciate it," Mel said, reaching out her hand for Tommy to shake. "I'm Mel, by the way." Tommy shook it and introduced himself, although Abby already knew who these bastards were.

"Mason," clearly, he was lying. He then gestures to Joel. "This is my brother." Abby can see the biker pinch the bridge of his nose although with the goggles in the way it looked rather goofy.

"Jacob." Joel introduced himself, looking around to meet their eyes. She knew who these two were, however, but kept her mouth shut. She must wait until it is the right time to strike.

"Those are your names?" Abby asked, getting into the conversation.

"Yeah, why?" She stepped a little bit closer. At the corner of her eye, she saw the biker looking at the scene intensely. He was studying everyone in the room.

"I've heard of someone living in these parts. A man by the name of Joel Miller," it was brief, but she saw it. The man's eyes widened and there was a slight flinch in his body. It only lasted for a second before he was calm again.

"No… I can't say I have…"

And that sealed his fate, Abby thought gleefully as she discretely reached for her shotgun in her bag. The rest of her group went silent, either realizing who was in their presence or in on the score.

Looking around, Joel saw their expressions. "Y'all act like you've found him or something." Quietly pulling the weapon out and keeping it out of sight, Abby replied honestly.

"That's 'cause we have," aiming the shotgun at his right knee, Abby had her finger on the trigger. She inwardly savored the expression on Joel Miller's face. Finally, after so long, she will have her vengeance.

But the biker was faster, a rugged, black revolver in hand. Her eyes widened as the biker fired in surprisingly quick succession, and she screamed as she felt her kneecaps blowing out from under her.


Amateur marks, every single one of them, the Scav noted. The two men unknowingly getting themselves trapped and the butch lady and her posse, both parties made some amateur moves. Lady thought she was discrete, reaching into her bag like that. Still, he cannot shoot too soon or else he will get sloppy. The second she had her shotgun out on the guy, he made his move.

Blackhawk revolver in hand, he fired. Two Four-Five ACP rounds fired, one for each knee, rendering them useless unless she can get them treated fast enough, spilling some blood onto the floor. She screamed as she went down, one hand still firmly gripping the shotgun and its trigger so the moment she fell, she discharged a shell of buckshot into another, blowing out the foot of the man with the girly bun on his head. The others reacted with varying degrees of speed, the quick reactors receiving a bullet to their heads and slow reactors got their chests filled up with Nine-Em-Em Parabellum FMJ rounds, courtesy of his Glock Autoloader Pistol. In less than seven seconds, they were dealt with, a good portion either dead or dying. A schmuck in a blue jacket tried to rush him but all he got for his troubles was a Four-Five to the skull, splattering his brains out into the wall behind him.

The two men these morons tried to jump were surprised by what happened. Idiots, even a mutant could see that these morons were bandits from a hundred yards away and those radheads were nearly blind.

Luckily, he saw through their façade quickly enough. The way they had positioned themselves in the room meant that they aimed to overwhelm these two in numbers. A shame they did not consider the Scav, who had seen ambushes of all kinds in his life stalking the Wastes. Hell, none of them were suspicious at all when he stayed in the far corner. Amateurs, the whole lot of them, nobody will miss them once they are all gone.

"You guys alright?" he asked the two men, both handguns trained on each of them in case they tried anything funny. The bearded man, Jacob, nodded as did his brother, Mason, as they recollected themselves. As soon as he decided they were not a threat, the Scav lowered both pistols to reload them. Once refreshed, the Scav approached the down woman and took her shotgun away. He mockingly waved the weapon in front of her face before throwing it away.

"You sonuvabitch!" she screamed into his face, sending some spittle onto the visors of his goggles which he promptly wiped away. "I had them!"

"Oh yeah? And the fuck did these two numbskulls did to you? Murder your parents or something?" he asked, both out of sarcasm and out of curiosity. She snarled at him, making him chuckle in response. "Holy shit," he started, getting up and beginning to circle her, "I was joking about that." Turning to the two men, he asked the bearded one a question.

"Recognize her in any way?" The bearded one, Jacob if he heard correctly, shook his head.

"Never seen her before today." Looking back to the downed butch, he continued with the interrogation.

"Who're your parents?"

"My father was a doctor," she snarled out, trying to reach for something in her bag. Now that will not do. Firmly as he could, he planted one foot on her arm and the other on her back. "He was trying to get a cure made when you," she seethed at Jacob, "killed him." He seemed shocked at her declaration.

A cure? The Scav could not help but snort in amusement.

"Lady," he used the term nicely, getting off her and resume circling her, "have you seen the state of machines these days? Hell, even my bike looks like it'll fall apart sooner or later. Whatever cure your daddy was gonna make, it was no guarantee it'll happen."

"You don't know that!" she shot back, screeching at him, and trying to swipe at his legs. "He was gonna save the world!" He rolled his eyes from behind his goggles.

"Maybe he would, maybe he wouldn't," he stated calmly before lowering to a squat he had seen a few Eastern Euros do back at the Wall. "Point is that there's a very high," to visualize, he began to gesture with his hands, "chance it'll fuck itself over. I am not one to have high hopes. I'm just the kind of guy that just wants to get by every damn day."

"You wouldn't understand," she said, stubborn as ever, making him shake his head. This was hopeless, he was not getting anywhere with this one.

He stood up and turned to head for one of the dying men, weapon in hand.

"What're you doing?" Mason asked, alternating between looking at the Scav and looking at the woman.

"Giving this lady a much better motivation for revenge," he aimed his Blackhawk at the man with the girly bun on his head.

"NO!" A trigger was pulled, and the man's brain was splattered across the floor. Another trigger pull sends another round into the chest and another to the gut. Glancing back, he can see that the butch was figuratively frothing at the mouth. Under his mask, he smirked at her.

"See you around, kid." Jacob stepped in his path.

"You're just gonna leave her like this?"

"You want her to get up after what she just said?" Hearing no answer, the Scav walked around Jacob.

Stepping into the corridor outside, the Scav was greeted with the sight of the other bandits in this group just coming in from the garage doors.

"Abby? We heard some gunshots. Is everything al… right…" they trailed off once they saw that the person, they were addressing wasn't someone they were thinking. The MAC was aimed at them already.

"Oh shit!" One of them summed up their collective thoughts as the Scav fired upon them. The Nine-Em-Em rounds made quick work of those that did not duck for cover fast enough, blowing out their brains or making holes in their bodies. Holstering the SMG, the Scav brought out his trusty crowbar and charged. The bandits had their assortment of melee weapons, ranging from useful and deadly like wooden bats or pipes to useless like golf clubs. He dodged under some of their swings and tanked those he could not get away from in time. He struck back harshly as he could, the cold metal doing some nasty damage onto the bandits, especially to the head region.

Occasionally he would use his shiv to shank some of them unexpectedly, either catching them off-guard long enough to be finished off with the crowbar or striking them somewhere that will guarantee their deaths sooner or later. Soon enough, all the bandits in the corridor were dead. Seeing that his bike and the two horses were still there and not tampered with, the Scav quickly heads for his ride. Hearing footstep from behind him, he turns to see Jacob and his brother approaching, the former armed with the shotgun the Scav had thrown across the room he had just came out of. In response, he cuts the reins of the horses lose.

"You boys might want to leave," he said as he opened the garage doors. "I'm gonna start 'cleaning house', if you catch my drift." Jacob shook his head.

"We're coming with you."

"You sure?" A nod from him made the Scav understand their intention. He reached into his backpack and handed Mason one of many spare Glock pistols he had collected in his journeys across the Wastes, handing him four spare mags as well.

"Well, one less bandit group oughta do this world some good." Mason and Jacob nodded at his words. With that, they walked towards the other buildings within the bandits' base to do some 'house cleaning'. He kicks open the door, surprising the bandits within the room.

"Knock-knock," he stated before firing, the MAC's suppressor aiding in muffling the report and keeping his aim steady. None of them stood a chance, the SMG making quick work of them. Nearby, he could hear a shotgun fire off followed by a few pistol shots, letting him know that Jacob and Mason are carrying their weight around as well. Seeing some stairs leading to the upper floors, the Scav continues his little clean up session.

Ascending one floor, he sees that a good number of bandits had wised up to the fact that their numbers are being depleted. None of them had guns and most were clad in thin clothing. No need for bullets, he will just introduce them to a rather touchy friend of his.

Holstering the SMG, he reaches into his backpack and pulls the fearsome weapon out.

"HOLY SHIT!" their horror was understandable at what he had just pulled out of his backpack. It was a rather sadistic weapon, made by some sick fuck somewhere some time ago in the Wastes. The main body is that of an industrial chainsaw but the blade itself has been replaced by a jackhammer. Normally chainsaws would require fuel but apparently the guy behind this thing's existence thought to use solar batteries much like the ones used in the Solar Lanterns many used across the Wastes.

The Pile-Bunker was out to play.

He charged at them, bringing the fearsome weapon forward. Each hammering blow of the Pile-Bunker had enough force to break concrete with ease. Bandits wearing mere clothing were not as hardened as concrete. A few lost their arms, another few lost their legs, some unlucky bastards had their heads split open or had their guts punched out and the rest were bowled over. They tried to run or fend him off, but it was futile in the end.

His own weight combined with the momentum he got and the weight of everything in his backpack made it rather difficulty to stop him.

By the time he was through, he had reached the end of the corridor, with dead bodies or knocked over bandits behind him. Flicking the weapon off and dropping it to the floor, he whipped out his Glock and started executing those that had survived.

He cannot risk any of these morons running free. Except for that one woman, he wants to see how far she can really go. If she dies today, he could not care and if she lives, same thing.

A door to his left opened, entering the corridor was Jacob and Mason. They were shocked at his handiwork.

"Impressed?"

"That's one way to put it," Mason said, trying not to retch at the sight.

"You dealt with all of them on your end?"

"Yeah, we dealt with them." Jacob answered as they headed back to their rides. Stepping out into the storm of snow, the Scav can make out that the fires had gone out and none of the mutants were around anymore.

"Give me a hand with this, will you?" He asked them both as he rushed for the gate. Placing his hands upon one side, he internally winced at how cold the metal was. Is it always this cold wherever here was? He will figure it out later. Jacob and Mason grabbed onto other parts of the gate and slowly but surely opened it wide enough for them to exit on their rides one by one.

They went back into the garage with their rides. "This is where we part ways, I suppose," he said to them who nodded in agreement as they mounted their respective rides. Revving up the engine, the Scav maneuvers the bike until the angle where he can head for the exit straightly was reached.

"Thanks for getting us out of that mess," Jacob said, gratitude in his voice.

"We owe ya," Mason pitched in.

"Stay alive and don't be idiots and I'll consider that a debt repaid," he said to them.

"C'mon, she's gotta be looking for us." Somehow, he knew Mason wasn't talking about the butch he just shot left for (hopefully) dead.

"Looking for someone?"

"Yeah, a friend of ours. We got separated," Jacob said but elaborated no further. The Scav nodded in response. Good, this guy has some good instincts. Saying only a few and not everything, it works in keeping anyone alive.

"Until we meet again, boys," with that, the Scav rides out of the bandit base and onto the dirt roads, leaving the two men behind who spurred their horses to action.


He rode past the snow-covered vegetation and wildlife, the two surprising him as he rarely encounters pure vegetation or wildlife in the Wastes.

"I'm a long way from home." He said to himself in his head, still riding the road out until he reached an old highway. Some abandoned vehicles littered the place, and it looks like some can still be salvaged. Bringing his ride to a stop, he gets to work. He opened an old pickup truck, seeing that the engine was worn and deactivated but can still be salvaged. With some help, he can remove the parts needed to upgrade his ride.

Some things never change.

After an hour or so of stripping whatever vehicles he could find in good condition of their parts, he returns to his bike. As he got close, he can see that a few mutants have been attracted to the sound of his bike when he arrived at this highway. Taking out the MAC, he fires burst upon burst at them, taking a few of them down easily. Of course, the bolt of the weapon cycling still made audible enough noise that it attracted the rest to him. Holstering the SMG, he brings out his crowbar and starts swatting them away. A few had their heads cave in easily in one blow while the rest needed a few good whacks to the head. One particularly ugly mutant grabbed his arm and bit onto an unarmored part of it. That left him somewhat open to others biting other parts of him. He sneered, ripping himself away from the mutants and giving them all a harsh smack of the crowbar, caving their ugly heads in.

As soon as all were dead, the Scav sat on his bike and opened the sleeve of his bitten arm. To his surprise, he can see some dark veins growing from the bitten spot before they somehow 'burned' away. That is weird, so these mutants act like Gasbags, infecting whatever they could within range. These things do not blow up though, so that's a plus he can see. Not only that, but it appears that whatever is in their bite was not as deadly as the Gasbags' own toxic clouds. Where the toxic clouds can have a grown man hacking his lungs out until he was reduced to nothing more than a nest of spores for more Gasbags to grow, the bites these mutants gave him seemed to be a mild inconvenience at best.

He had a suspicion though. The Wastes, even the settlements that were 'safe' for most of a year, were irradiated thanks to the War that left most of the world as radioactive hellholes. The Geiger counter he kept on his person always can attest to this, always beeping even when he was in settlements like the Wall or Terminus. In this place, however, it did not make a single peep. The Geiger counter was not making any noise whatsoever.

His body had grown accustomed to the radiation, giving a boost of sorts to his immunity system. In most places, he will be fine. It is the heavily radiated areas that he should be careful of. Somehow, he doubts he will find a heavily radioactive area soon. As for what the rads did to his body, they may have had a hand in reversing whatever these bites were supposed to do. He wasn't so sure; he was no scientist.

Still, those bites left some bruises thanks to the thickness of his hooded jacket, while some left punctures in his skin. Taking out his medical bag, he began to treat himself. Years of surviving in the Wastes made him fast in treating his own wounds and bruises, so he had healed himself completely within a minute or two.

Looking to the horizon, he can see that it was getting darker. He will have to find shelter soon. Heading back to his bike, the Scav resumes driving down the roads.

Maybe he will get lucky and find somewhere secure to sleep in.


A/N: And that is another oneshot done. What do you guys think? Love it? Hate it? Let me know in the reviews!

Now, some might be rather confused since there is no Doomguy and I shall clarify once more. This is an anthology series of oneshots of both Doom canon and Doom Mods. This means that minor gameplay mods like Naku-Naru and Highway Acceleroid Booster can have a oneshot as well and major total conversions such as Hedon and The Adventures of Square can also have oneshots of their own. And since this has an X-Over tag, that means countless crossover potential.

I could crossover Super Smash Brothers with Samsara, Quake Champions: DOOM Edition and Fate Grand Order, and even a three-way crossover between Tomb Raider, Uncharted, and Temple of the Lizardmen and so much more! The possibilities are literally endless. Not just with crossovers but also genre. I can have something serious, then something erotic, then something lighthearted, and then finish off with a shitpost because the endless potential crossovers both Doom Canon and Doom Mod settings have.

Now I've plans for the next oneshot already. This one involves the latest big project from SgtMkIV, VietDOOM, and the Harry Potter books. Random? Yes. Doesn't really connect thematically? Hell yes. Something ultimately entertaining to read in some way or form? FUCK YES!

See you all on the flip side!

- EnriksD8

[EDIT 12-27-2020 A.D.: I've changed my mind on what the potential third oneshot will be. DOOM Incarnate plus Mad Father. Prepare for 1980's BJ Blazkowics to cause some mayhem in the Drevis Manor!]

[EDIT 02-12-2021 A.D.: Alright, after watching Taimanin Asagi, I changed my mind again. It's gonna be a crossover between that and Project Brutality. Doomguy's gonna be ripping and tearing those lustful demons a new asshole!]