Quiet. She needed to be quiet. Eventually, it'd go away. It was looking for people. She was safe as long as she didn't make a noise.
Six mechanical legs skittered throughout the street. They were attached to a robotic body that carried a creature. The only way you could describe it was a brain with a face. It had glowing red eyes and spike-like teeth. Beneath the face were two guns that fired bursts of energy. These projectiles melted anything in their path.
It'd been half an hour since it all began. The scariest part? There wasn't as much sound as you'd expect. Battles, screams, cries, roars, howls, fire, explosions, gunshots, and more could still be heard across Pentagram City. But with every passing second, the silence grew more. These horrors were efficient and left no survivors. Hence, she needed to be quiet.
The shifting of her body on the street. The erratic breathing of her lungs. The whimpers and terrified gasps that left her lips. She tried to suppress them, but they kept happening.
Suddenly, the mechanical legs stopped. She felt her body stiffen. Slowly, they each moved, turning in her direction. No, please. No. No. No. No. No. No.
CRASH
In an instant, the car that covered her was thrown down the street. One mechanical leg turned her over before she could react. Once on her back, four more were used to impale her arms and legs. She screamed in pain, blood gushing from the wounds. Yet, this agony wasn't the worst of it.
The monster lowered its face to be closer to hers. Its breath was fowl. Amidst her yelling, she saw it smile. This creature delighted in her misery. It planned to make her suffer.
CRUNCH
The mechanical legs slightly tilted in the wounds they created. She screamed louder, turning the beast's smile into a grin. Again and again, it continued to barely move the limbs in the holes it made in her body. Each movement shuffled the shattered fragments of bone. It was like having shrapnel swirl inside of you.
Her throat began to tear. Blood filled her esophagus. She started begging. It wasn't to the monster. She hoped anyone would hear her. Help. Please. Someone. Anyone.
Then, a warmth came. It appeared above her stomach. The twin barrels the monster wielded. They glowed with blue light. However, it wasn't intending to shoot her. It'd use the energy's heat to cook her alive. It wanted to hear her screams for as long as she would last.
First, the skin burned. Next, it began to bubble. Louder and louder, she screamed. Her vocal cords threatened to snap. Blood started sputtering out of her mouth. Please! Please. Please...
BOOM
Warmth again. This time, it was on her face. Blood. But it wasn't hers. Looking up, the monster was dead. From behind, something had struck it. Furthermore, it went through the creature. A large chunk of itself was now missing. The gap was curved in its shape. The pink flesh was black, having been cooked within an instant.
THUNK THUNK THUNK THUNK
A new sound. It was heavy. Metal. Powerful. Then, in a blink, the monster's carcass was tossed to the side, legs and all. She didn't even feel them as they were removed from her body. Why? Simple. She gazed upon her savior.
A man clad in green armor. In his hands, he wielded a futuristic-looking gun. More accurately, it was like a cannon. Yet, before she could study it more, it disappeared. Afterward, the man picked her up in his arms.
THUNK THUNK THUNK THUNK
That sound was his footsteps. He ran through the streets with blinding speed. Buildings were a blur. The scenery changed faster than she could keep up with. But she didn't care. Whoever this was, he saved her. That's all that mattered.
"It's Doomguy! He found someone else!"
A voice reached her ears. She was met with a beautiful sight when tracing it to its origin. A golden barrier, a haven. Within it, angelic forms waited to take her to safety.
"It's alright now. You're okay." The angel told her as she was moved to their arms. "Doomguy! There's been non-stop gunfire to the southwest! Hurry!" It told the man.
Doomguy. That was his name. She watched him run back to the city. This time, there was a rifle in his hands. More souls needed saving.
...
...
Doomguy didn't think. He acted. No time for strategy. No time for questions. The others would figure out what was going on after damage control. He needed to do what he was built for. He needed to slay.
The space marine had lived through this before. A city on fire. Streets filled with corpses. An ocean of blood soaking all of it. No. Not again. Not. Again. He wouldn't allow them that satisfaction.
After handing over the female Demon he saved, Doomguy hurried in the direction the Maykrs told him about. Sure enough, there was gunfire to the southwest. Admittedly, he was impressed that ANYONE could hold out for so long. Regular firearms, which were the bulk of Hell's stock, were useless.
Soon, Doomguy reached the area where the fighting took place. Unfortunately, it was the type of scene he anticipated. A group of survivors managed to fortify a gunshop. Considering how little time they would've had to accomplish that, it was impressive. However, as stated, regardless of the calibers and quantity of resources in that store, the most they'd be able to kill were Imps.
Luckily, that's what the survivors had mainly been dealing with. Imps. Possessed corpses of the many victims. In short, the lightweights. But now, the big ones were here. Four Hell Knights. They'd breakthrough that barricade in no time.
Click
That wasn't the sound of an empty weapon attempting to be fired. That noise came from an attachment on Doomguy's assault rifle. A small compartment on the side of the gun connected to the barrel. That click signified its activation. It would turn the special rounds of the firearm into flying explosives.
Like a fireworks display, Doomguy sent forth a horizontal spray of micro-missiles. That was how the bullets were referred to when used with the modification. Of course, this gained the brutes' attention. With a collective roar, they charged the space marine.
With his adversaries approaching, Doomguy focused his fire on one Hell Knight. This ensured that their numbers would be reduced to three when his opponents reached him. However, now that they were on top of him, Doomguy needed to rely on better-suited weaponry. Thus, the assault rifle was traded for another armament.
BOOM
Two barrels fired simultaneously. The super shotgun specialty. With so little distance between him and one of the Hell Knights, the recipient of the gun's buckshot was now missing the top half of its head. The beast fell forward, now a corpse, onto the ground. The two left alive uncaringly trampled the remains, not hindered in the slightest.
With faster hands than a magician, Doomguy reloaded his trusted tool of death. Even so, one of the Hell Knights pulled back its arms and swung it at his head. Doomguy, in an interesting choice, fell backward. This allowed him to avoid the swing but left him vulnerable to a follow-up attack.
The second Hell Knight took advantage of this opening. It raised one of its powerful legs, hoping to crush the space marine. Anticipating this, Doomguy stored the super shotgun and summoned his chainsaw. One swing and the fiend lost its limb. Instead of stomping Doomguy into the dirt, it fell face-first onto the street below.
The first Hell Knight, like its accomplice, hoped to take advantage of this turn of events. It reached down before Doomguy could stand and picked him up by his helmet. Although not expecting this reaction like before, the space marine wasn't helpless. Quickly, he stored his power tool. Then, with both hands, he grabbed the Hell Knight's forearm.
SNAP
Like a stick, that's how Doomguy would describe it. As it turns out, he didn't need to put the effort into standing. With the Hell Knight's arm broken, Doomguy landed on his feet. The Demon unknowingly assisted him.
Once more, the chainsaw was summoned. With all the strength Doomguy could muster, he swung the mechanical sword. It cleanly sliced through the upright Hell Knight. However, its body WAS durable. So, many of the tool's teeth were damaged or fully broken. Still, it could be used again if needed.
As the third Hell Knight fell to the ground as a lifeless husk, that left only one as the survivor. Well, that wasn't accurate. Surviving implies a life beyond this moment. With a raised boot, Doomguy guaranteed that wouldn't happen.
CRUNCH
The result of the space marine's boot being delivered to the incapacitated Hell Knight's skull was identical to a sledgehammer being used on a pumpkin in the prime of its life. Solid. Squishy. Satisfying. The three Ss.
With the group of Hell Knights vanquished, Doomguy turned toward the gunshop. He gestured for those inside to hurry out. Seconds passed. Nothing. No footsteps. No sounds of elation. Something was wrong.
Immediately, Doomguy sprinted toward the store. With a kick, he burst open the door. Any objects placed against it were destroyed or sent flying into the establishment. When he saw what was on the other side, the space marine came to a full stop.
There was a hole in the ceiling. From it, Imps had broken through. They had done so as Doomguy fought the Hell Knights. The result: A mess of bodies, blood, and bones.
In total, there were three Imps. They were feasting on their victims. When Doomguy entered, he earned their attention. They hissed and bared their fangs. But he wasn't looking at them.
The victims' faces were still intact. They had looks of fear frozen in their expressions. It was only a few minutes. Just a few. If Doomguy didn't deal with the Hell Knights, they would've killed them. There...was no chance for them...
...
...
When the Imps attacked Doomguy, he reacted purely on instinct. Consciously, he wasn't there. He grabbed two of them by their necks and snapped them instantly. As for the third, who stayed back to conjure a fireball, he threw the corpses of its allies at it with the force of a cannon. The result was all three bodies exploding once contact was made.
Again. It was happening again. No matter how hard Doomguy fought, people were dying. Worse, they wouldn't revive as was the norm in Lucifer's Hell. Doom would immediately claim the souls via that grotesque monstrosity it began its invasion with. Again. It was happening. Again. AGAIN. AGAIN!
"Doomguy." The voice of Vega spoke, bringing him back to reality. "There are more survivors near your location. They've managed to hide from the Demons, but I'm unsure how long they'll remain unnoticed. Please, hurry. I've marked their location on your map." He told him.
Right. No thinking. No emotions. Nothing. Fight. Kill. Win. That's all that mattered. Doomguy, after summoning his plasma rifle, hurried to the new location. Back to work.
Vega, as always, was monitoring everyone's status. To be more precise, those within his immediate circle. Of course, Doomguy was among them. So, he noticed when the space marine's mental state began spiking.
Vega didn't know the details. The only ones who did were Khan and Azrael. However, he didn't need to. Regardless of the exact situation Doomguy dealt with in the past, an encounter with Doom on this scale was bound to bring memories and trauma to the surface. He didn't think anything less of the space marine, nor would any of the others.
But Doomguy's perception of himself was different. The downtime between now and the Mars invasion had made him forget who he was. What he was. Not a soldier. Not a survivor. A slayer. That's what he was. So, that's what he'd do.