I think I need to explain why I temporarily changed the writing style, since it is obvious that some readers didn't like it. The idea was to change the narrating style on the type of "special" reality the arc is placed. If, for example, the arc happened in a fantasy medieval setting, the narrator would put more emphasis on certain scenes, taking an overly-dramatic approach ("The exploits of our young adventurers shall be remembered as legends..." rather than the usual "The Vault Hunter and co. completed their mission..."). The JoJoverse, while it does have its moments, it is not nearly as edgy as, say, Borderlandsverse or Hell. This is why I wanted to write in such a style as I did, something between seriousness and a poor attempt at comedy. But since people clearly don't like it, I decided to return to the usual writing tone.
Never once did Braylon thought he would crash through the roof of a house like an asteroid after being blown away by a sonic attack. His trusty Bumblebee took all of the punishment for him, enough that it depleted the entire battery. He would gladly give a prayer or two hadn't he decided to stare at the roof on the ceiling from the uncomfortable wooden floor, stoically and silently, as the world out there continued to be a jungle of noises.
That Noise Demon certainly served as a wake-up call. It was an unexpected rise in difficulty. All the demons he fought up to then were, more or less, a challenge he accepted at face value. There would be a weak demon, followed by a slightly stronger variant and so on. That? That was just absurd. It was like going in a dungeon where even experienced players had difficulties with a poorly-equipped
character. He felt like it was all planned so he could lower his guard when stronger individuals eventually showed up.
"Fuck my life… again…"
Deciding it was the perfect time to stop staring at the ceiling, the Vault Hunter slowly moved his hands, then his feet, and finally his body. The room he had fallen into belonged to a child. Stuffed toys decorated a tiny bed and a wooden shelf above it. The table had some childish drawings made of crayons. A tiny bookshelf in the corner was half empty, with the books messily piled up on top of another. A single window illuminated the room. Braylon sat on the bed and tapped on the screen of his PDA. Ammunition was fine. Weapons were fine. The Shield-
The Shield was offline.
Disbelief was etched on his face. The Bumblebee, the only thing that kept him safe, was gone. His tampering and the damage it absorbed was too much for the Shield. He was stuck in another world, during a demonic invasion, without something to protect himself with.
"No… no, no, no, no! Fuck! Fucking hell!"
Just as a long stream of curses was about to be unleashed from his mouth, something beyond the door banged their fist against an object, shattering it. The noise startled Braylon. Rather than ask questions like people in horror movies, he drew his Unforgiven and pulled back the hammer. Ironically, that was truly a classic situation of your typical horror movie. A sudden noise would attract the protagonist towards a trap.
"Nope, not enough for me, fuck you."
Braylon spun around and reached the window. Rather than going through the hall, where he could be ambushed, he jumped through the window, landing into the backyard, walled off from the rest of the world with a fence. He landed near a head impaled on a metal rod. Not as much of a jumpscare as one would expect.
Kicking down the fence gave him access to the, at first glance, deserted road. Two cars on the other side of the street had their alarms activated, hiding most of the noises he would otherwise hear. On the right side, between two houses, stood a little girl, her blue eyes fixated on his. Those eyes looked very familiar to him. She put her index finger in front of her mouth, turned left and ran further down the street. Before he even realized what was going on, he heard a loud explosion behind him. One of the houses not far from his position became an inferno. A Mancubus walked out from the building, munching on a tiny animal.
"Another fat fuck! This could be my chance!"
Being fat meant being a wide target, perfect for testing Leviathan. Three rockets penetrated the jiggling mass that was its scarred stomach. The Mancubus staggered backwards soundlessly, seemingly uncaring about blood and bile that its perforated stomach dropped in tiny piles. Rather than expressing anger, or any other emotion naturally displayed in such circumstances, it simply belched and faltered forward, stomping its own exposed intestines that failed to remain in their place.
Braylon was so disgusted that he even forgot about its toughness. "Ugh. So glad I skipped lunch." The fourth rocket he fired was aimed at the exposed face. Even after the head became disfigured, the Mancubus didn't stop moving, although it was now blind. Raising its cannons, the Mancubus fired huge fireballs three times. The way their trajectory was so poor that most of the fireballs weren't even close to his position, told Braylon that him being roasted alive was not the objective, but the bonus. He would be eaten either way. To prevent that, Braylon loaded four rockets into the gun. They were also aimed for the stomach, but since the first three dug an opening to the innards, these ones could easily go even deeper, resulting in an explosion that tore the Mancubus in half. Its blood and chunks of meat flew everywhere, sizzling when dropping on a surface, either from gastric fluids or infections so dangerous they melted everything. Luckily, he was out of reach.
With the Mancubus banished, the Vault Hunter decided to track down the mysterious girl. Against his expectations, she stood in the middle of the road, completely ignoring the destruction of private propriety around her. Some Caconoids spotted her. Rather than attacking, however, they simply stared, shuddered and quickly flew away. That made Braylon instantly suspicious, pointing Leviathan at her. The girl brushed a few strands of her blond hair, pointed to the right and ran in that direction., into an alleyway. While her gaze bore such seriousness that no kid her age should have, it also invited him to follow her, without expressing it in any way, shape or form. Somehow, it felt reassuring.
"...Hm. Reject one cliché, embrace another."
Just seconds after he made the first step, a Baron of Hell materialized twenty meters forward in a shower of orange light. He wasn't the only one. Two Revenants appeared behind him as well. He only had twelve rockets left.
The next few minutes passed so quickly, we feel the need to explain what happened; One of the Revenants fired a rocket. Braylon jumped sideways to avoid the explosion. While in mid-air, he fired two rockets at the Baron. One hit its left arm while the other went for the shoulder. Both pierced the flesh and exploded, tearing some of the muscle away. The Baron, enraged but not in pain, threw a green fireball at Braylon. Because he fell, the fireball missed and hit a Revenant's armor instead, melting some of it. Deciding to return the favor, said Revenant ignored Braylon and unleashed its firepower at the Baron. Meanwhile, Braylon destroyed the other Revenant with a rocket, before it could kill him. The Revenant's rockets only bruised the Baron's body, while the latter used its fist to punch through the armor and kill the pest. Braylon shot five more rockets, but the Baron used its victim as a meat shield. Two out of five rockets actually hit the demon, other three dug into the corpse and exploded, obliterating it.
It was amazing how the beast was able to shrug off rockets that could destroy a tank. Despite the injuries to the arm, and having a tiny portion of its chest devoid of flesh, the Baron showed no pain. When he stopped firing, the Baron of Hell leaped forward. The concussion wave its fist produced when it hit the ground sent Braylon flying. With a mid-air roll, the Vault Hunter regained composure while loading last four rockets into four Leviathan's barrels respectively. When he landed, he unleashed his weapon's firepower at the demon. Its entire chest blew up, revealing a bloody skeleton and muscles that weren't torn to shreds. The produced kinetic energy made it stagger backwards until it finally dropped dead.
Braylon changed Leviathan for Fornax, should he encounter more demons, and ran after the girl. The chase brought him to a dark alleyway, where the girl stood close to a green dumpster, waiting once again for him to arrive.
"Enough." he said, tired from playing cat and mouse, "Tell me what you want or I won't follow you anymore." After a pause, he continued. "I know you want me to follow you. I can feel it. Are you like those demons?"
She said nothing. When he moved his mouth to speak again, she interrupted him.
"They know what you speak or think, so please be quiet. I know you have a lot of questions, but I can't answer them without ruining your only chance to save this and other worlds." He raised an eyebrow. "Their plan was to stall you into finding the responsible ones by sending you through multiple different worlds, all while making it look like you were doing progress on your own. They never expected this turn of events. What you see is them improvising in order to lure you into a trap. However..." The girl reached a wall with her index finger and drew a circle. To Braylon's surprise, a white rift appeared. Who was she?
"This rift will send you close to their vile dummy device for traveling through worlds, without any interference from the enemy. The device won't bring you to the place where the leader of this legion is, but into a pocket dimension, which is actually a trap. They think you will be unprepared and unable to escape from their ambush. That won't happen. You will go there and act ignorant of the danger. When you eventually come out, you will reach the leader and defeat him. You won't die." Wordlessly, he walked to the rift. That last part made him uncomfortable. "You have a powerful ally with you, which they will never be able to defeat. There is no reason to be frightened. Once you are there, do not listen to any poison they spit out. It is all meant to destroy your hope and prevent you from stopping this madness. Now go, and don't forget your gift."
The newest place Braylon reached was unknown to him, though it looked like the courtyard of an expensive hotel. In front of him stood the Dark Totem. He spun around, checking if there were demons nearby. No living soul was present, further reinforcing the "this is a trap" vibe he got. He wasn't sure what to make of that monologue, but he decided to follow through with the "plan" and touch the Totem. Did he have any choice in the matter?
An orange pentagram formed under his feet. Everything became red.
(Doom PSX – Track07)
Braylon awakened with a headache that threatened to split his head in two. It rally was a trap, just like the girl said. Standing up proved to be a challenge for a brief moment, as was regaining his vision back. The first thing he checked was his body, which returned to its previous state, before he landed into that reality. Somewhat coincidentally, Braylon saw a faint greenish-blue fog caressing his legs to the ankles. It barely concealed stains of something he recognized was blood on the large stone bricks that served as a floor. Braylon's face met a Peon's when he raised his head. He cried out, his back hitting the cold wall made of the exact same bricks as the floor. His voice echoed as if he was in a canyon. The Peon was harmless, however, for it was just a mutilated body hanging from the ceiling.
"Do you hate something?" A voice whispered between the myriad of thoughts that raced in his mind. There wasn't just one corpse, there were at least a dozen more, all belonging to different demons, as far as he could see, which wasn't much. It was too dark for his liking. "I do. It's when someone interrupts me during my work. Take you, for example."
The room was a plain stone square, with a torch in the middle, burning with green fire. Each corpse he passed by after he picked up his Fornax was once a demon, tortured to "death". When he reached the other side, he found a wooden door to his right, ornately carved with demonic-looking skulls.
"You were supposed to follow a pattern like you did before but you did not. What's with the sudden change, I wonder? It only served to complicate things more than necessary." He could feel irritation dripping from the voice like venom from a snake's mouth. "Someone helped you, that is obvious. But who? You think it was him? The one who gave you that mark?" It chuckled mockingly. "Do you, I wonder, know his true intentions? Why don't we find them out together? Shall we? Proceed through that door, please."
Reluctantly, the Vault Hunter approached the door. When he touched one of the carved skulls, the door quickly moved itself away, revealing a Fury that immediately punched him in the face. He felt something cracking in his head as he fell face down. A tooth fell out of his mouth. He spun around awkwardly just as the Fury was close to deliver another fist to his head. The reanimated demonic skeleton crumbled into pieces all over him when hot plasma melted the spinal column, in a style that could be called spray and pray.
"Fuh… fugh… I felt that..."
"I apologize. My brothers aren't exactly patient or well-mannered as I am. You may find more of them during your journey, hiding in the shadows, waiting to strike you down."
With pain slowly subsiding, nothing stopped him from going beyond that door. The stone bridge he stood on was narrow, reducing his maneuverability to going either forwards or backwards, something he didn't like. Each five meters of the bridge had two gallows with demonic corpses, some of them being Arch-Viles. Both the bridge and the room behind him were levitating above nothingness, like in that strange dimension, with the exception that everything was enveloped by the greenish-blue fog, which was far thicker than the one in the room. So thick, in fact, that he could only see the bridge for some twenty meters, before it disappeared. He couldn't smell or hear anything. It was cold.
"I believe those who fail to accomplish something need to be punished for their failure. Don't you agree?" He skulked in silence, fearing another ambush. "Without punishment, you will never have order. I'm sure you understand."
The walk was uneventful and that made Braylon nervous. His head would jerk left and right whenever he heard something he estimated weren't his footsteps. The room behind him grew smaller and smaller, yet there was no end in sight of that bridge, just more fog and hanging corpses. His alertness proved to be useful when four Lost Souls appeared on both sides of the bridge Nothing his Fornax wouldn't be able to destroy.
After reloading, Braylon began seeing something that wasn't the bridge, few meters into the fog. It was an intersection where each corner sported a black candle. All paths were completely hidden in the fog. But that wasn't what concerned him.
Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.
Something was on the move. Something in the fog. Something he couldn't see. Warning bells struck his whole being as he held tightly the plasma dispenser. Beads of sweat ran down his face in defiance of the cold. He stopped walking.
Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.
A demon slowly rose from the fog to the left. Hadn't he known better he would assume it was an alien due to its grayish-green skin. Its mouth, which were actually exposed gums and teeth, its large feet and muscular chest were red and scarred. A pentagram was carved on its forehead, little above the mouth. It continued walking to the right, giving Braylon only a slight glance even though he failed to spot any eyes on its face, before disappearing into the fog, along with the sound.*
It made his skin crawl.
"...No, thank you. I don't want any." He gulped.
"If you refuse to go further, you will be stuck here forever while world after world dies. That wouldn't be fun now, would it?"
He hated himself for nodding. There really wasn't much he could do but act like a puppet. The situation reminded him of the time ran through the fiery pits of Hell. It was ironic how the demon "motivated" him in the almost exact way as the voice, by making threats, pushing buttons and appealing to his weaknesses. Reluctantly stepping into the intersection, Braylon stopped moving.
"You must feel very accomplished. What mortal could brag about defeating so many beings superior than themselves? All that struggle, all that bloodshed, and you are still unaware of your role in the play. Maybe this will make thing clearer. "
Braylon's mind was assaulted with thousands of images per second. In all of them he could see himself in first person; fighting demons, reaching places and escaping from the dimension. Every. Single. One. Different weapons, different enemies… Those weren't some random images…
"No. No!"
No matter how much he denied, there was no mistaking it. Each picture was far too realistic. Almost like he had done it all already.
"What do you think you saw? I'm sure you can figure it out."
It…
It was the future.
"But how?! How?!"
"Allow me to tell you how. You are in a play. This is your stage. Everything is just one big performance. All your encounters, and the victories that came with them, were staged."
"No! That's impossible! No one can…!"
"Predict the future? No, you are mistaken. This was not a mere prediction. What you experienced was how the first part of the play will end. Everything will unravel the way you saw."
"No… no..." Braylon muttered to himself as he fell on his knees.
"Don't take my word for it. See for yourself. You do remember what comes now, don't you?"
Yes. He knew exactly what was about to happen. The fog would retract, revealing four caged Caconoids, which would be banished with Fornax, without him being hit. And indeed, the fog retracted and the four Caconoids were visible. He couldn't believe what he saw. It all happened just like in the pictures that assaulted his mind.
The Caconoid behind him threw up. Braylon immediately jumped sideways and banished another Caconoid with Fornax by melting its face. Avoiding two projectiles with a roll, he killed the second flying demon, switched Fornax with Omni-Cannon, ducked some more bile and hit the third Caconoid's eye with a bullet, causing it to explode into a blue mist. The last Caconoid was chipped away piece by piece as each explosive bullet tore through its body until it became the equivalent of mashed potatoes.
(Doom PSX – Track13)
While reloading the Hyperion sniper rifle, Braylon's mind went through the entire scene once again. Reality and visions were indistinguishable from each other. Like a script for a movie and its execution. His breathing turned into sounds made by the business end of a wood chipper from Pandora. He gazed at the symbol on his hand.
"Do you realize now, the scale of the comedy? Have you acknowledged its length yet? From your escape to you ending up trapped. It was all carefully tailored into a web of deceit and manipulation. You never had a choice. You never had allies. But for what purpose, you may ask." The voice let out its laugh again before singing in a sickly sweet manner: "That is a secret."
He gritted his teeth in frustration. If he had a bandit camp nearby, a massacre would ensue. But now he had to concentrate, because the torture wasn't done. That's what it was, really. Simple, sadistic torture with the guy who started it all.
The fog moved away as if some wind pushed it sideways. A new path was open; a bridge, wider than the previous one, that led to a small fort where a legless Baron of Hell hung above a wooden gate guarded by three demons. Two of them were Hell Razers who stood on two floating platforms while the third was a new, previously unseen threat Braylon already recognized with regret. A hybrid consisting of a brain-shaped creature with two blue alien-like eyes fused to a chassis supported by four metallic legs. Its arms were useless in battle, so it had a turret mounted on the robotic body. A second type of demon that used technology to improve itself.**
Beams began flying Braylon's way, urging him to make himself as smaller as he could behind the short walls of the intersection. The bridge was wide enough for the mechanical spider demon to walk on, meaning if he didn't get rid of the Hell Razers first, there would be trouble when he would get the chance to attack. Like in the visions from before, the first thing he had done was to quickly take aim at the Hell Razer on the left, ignoring the shower of energy beams that, he thought, weren't even meant to hit him. An explosive round threw it off the platform.
The mechanical demon shot green plasma bullets, stopping only when Braylon was out of its field of view.
"Imagine the humiliation they have to go through for the play, knowing what will happen should they disobey. I find it amusing."
He paid no attention as he ended the second Hell Razer's life with a headshot. Excalibastard replaced Omni-Cannon as Braylon waited for the perfect moment. Once the demon cyborg was close enough, he jumped and stabbed it in the eye with the bayonet. Red blood poured from the wound as it cried out, trying to shake him off.
"Stop making fun of me! Bastard!"
Two laser beams took its life. The metallic body collapsed with an echoing clang, making sounds similar to a dying machine. Rather than feeling happy for surviving the close encounter, he felt angry, crossing the bridge while swapping guns again. Even after knowing the painful truth, he still had to be the fool that played pretend. That girl he chased was probably part of the farce too. Never before in his life did an achievement look so fake. Earth, open up and take him.
"Come on, great hero. Don't you want to stop the evil invaders again? Or do you want to give up?"
Braylon quietly reached the wooden gate. It was a battle, one that was meant to break his spirit slowly and painfully, by questioning everything and falling into despair. The shock he felt when he encountered the Caconoids was now subject to heavy rationalization. It was all a trick. He had no idea how, but it was. He was sure of it. As he was sure that a Maggot waited for him on the other side. He breathed in, aimed and touched the gate.
The Maggot was there in the same position he thought it would be. Without thinking twice, he fired with Excalibastard, preventing it from attacking. The Maggot shrieked, grasping its stomach. A second shot froze one of the heads. He cut off the other with Holo Sabre.
"Take my compliments. You won a battle with one of the strongest of our kind, completely on your own."
The only path he could see was a corridor that turned left, made of stone bricks like everything else, illuminated by blue torches placed on holders. A wall of skulls sat behind a glass panel on the right wall. The skulls were polished, piled with more care than those in some ancient catacombs. None of them belonged to a human. One of the skulls resembled a Skag's.
He spotted a Ravager Demon when he peered around the corner. It roared and ran from way down the hallway. Braylon moved away and it hit the wall, stunning itself. Orphan Maker materialized in his hands. He shoved the barrels at the temple and pulled the trigger. Half of the head exploded, with gray matter sticking to the ceiling and walls. The supernatural anger only served to make him even more irritated, knowing that all his efforts were everything but.
His footsteps echoed through the hallways as he casually walked, without a care in the world. Why should he care when he knew he wouldn't be killed? As he held that thought, the wall on the right slid down, its inhabitants being two Spectres that immediately turned invisible. Braylon retreated backwards while firing forward. Few droplets of blood he saw falling were excellent clues on where to point his Orphan Maker. He waited few seconds, making sure one of the Spectres came closer to the barrels. A bright flash, a loud boom and the air turned red, a mangled corpse appearing on the floor. Some pellets hit the one behind it, which roared as its face received a rather painful acupuncture treatment. He located the second Spectre based on sound alone and banished it to Hell with a shotgun surgery.
The rest of the corridor was clear, so he turned left, turned left again and reached a staircase which lead to the second floor; a large room with dead Hell Knights nailed on the walls. Metal bars blocked the access to the staircase. He wasn't surprised.
A brief exploration led him to a skull-shaped switch hidden carefully behind two bricks. Bullets were required for its activation, moving the entire wall away and revealing the blue sphere he was accustomed to use when necessary, no matter how morbid it was. Although, he wondered, why would they give something so beneficial to him and did it have any side-effects that the voice conveniently hid from his knowledge. That turncoat will hear it once he escapes, though even that became nothing but an assumption at this point. Would he ever escape from these nightmares?
The second switch came in the form of a lion-like head on a brown stone tablet. Its eyes and mouth lit up when he pushed the nose. Instantaneously, something teleported on the other side of the room. He spun around and saw a skull-shaped demon with a wide mouth and six tiny eyes, its skin gray with a tinge of brown. Like the Caconoid, it had several tentacles hanging from the bottom. It also had an exposed brain. Its hiss sounded a lot like that of a cat's.***
Due to its similarities with the Caconoids, Braylon thought it was probably related to them. He wasn't prepared for its faster speed of flight, so his shot missed the target. He also wasn't prepared for its yellow energy ball it fired from the mouth. While he avoided being hit, he failed to move away fast enough when it exploded behind him. He fell down, sharp pain biting his back and soul. As the demon closed in for the kill, the other presence invaded his thoughts once again.
"I'm sure you know a lot about that pendant you took from one of my brothers. But did you also know that it makes your soul exposed even more than it already was? You won't throw it away, of course. It is far too precious in battle, correct?" It chortled as Braylon tried to crawl towards his Orphan Maker. He extended his right hand. Quick, before the demon…
His hand was bitten off.
It wasn't the first time he lost a limb. In his younger years, he would loose a leg or a hand due to dangerous circumstances, but his PDA would help him regrow one back, although it took a lot of time, unless he boosted the process by consuming enough drugs to fill a pharmacy. However, he never lost a limb in such a painful way. So painful, that Braylon's mind forgot about the shotgun and watched in horror his bone and meat being chewed loudly by the demon, who obviously took pleasure in doing so while staring him down like an inferior being he was.
He screamed. Even with the pain inhibitor, he felt his brain screaming at him to get the hell away from the attacker while ranting about his missing hand. Blood rushed from the wound as he rolled on the ground like a pig in mud, although in smaller and smaller quantities. The PDA already sent nanobots and coagulants at work to prevent its user from dying of blood loss. But on a level higher than simple materialism, he felt as if his soul had forcefully lost a piece of itself. He screamed for two whole minutes, before the flying demon became bored and approached Braylon again.
In a fit of rage, mixed with desire for revenge, Braylon turned his head at the demon, screaming through teeth as his materialized Holo Ripper went through its bottom like a pin in a pincushion. Working it through the flesh, Braylon pulled Holo Ripper in the direction of the jaw, slicing it in half and showering himself in gore. The demon flew backwards, its jaw and intestines hanging loosely as red blood formed a small lake below. It tried to conjure one of its energy balls, but Braylon went for its exposed brain. The Holo Ripper buzzed as it disfigured the organ into pinkish paste. It gave a shriek before it collapsed. Braylon had none of it. He didn't stop cutting until the body was torn open like a pig in a butchery.
After kicking the corpse, our Vault Hunter reached the blue sphere and used it to heal himself, his right hand returning as if he never lost it. Thinking about how he could get used to it, he approached the stairs, which were now available.
"Excellent work on that Rahovart. Though it would be more appealing to watch if you got more injuries, don't you think?"
"Fuck off."
"Mortal. I gave you a demonstration on what I'm capable of. I dictate, you execute. But who said we need to strictly follow the script? Maybe we should add more danger."
The wall on the right was gone when he went down, turning the once-corridor into a room like the one above. Corpses were still present, though he paid no mind to them. He payed attention on the pentagram that appeared into the middle of the room, which turned into smoke, before a demon slowly rose from it.
At first glance, it resembled an emaciated Imp, translucent and cyan tinted. Other differences included six beady eyes that were really just six black dots and a split-open jaw twisted to make the entire mouth look like something that should belong to a spider. It tilted its head when it saw Braylon and let out a faint laugh that sounded more like a serpentine hiss. ****
His first shot went through its body harmlessly. While he reloaded, he saw it levitating slightly above ground. Rather than moving with its legs, it flew quickly to his left and fired a white fireball, its speed faster than a Grunt's. He jumped away and the fireball hit the wall, forming white flames that turned into ice.
"Normal bullets don't seem to work. Maybe plasma can do the trick?"
However, when it flew away from the spot and attacked again, its translucency was gone, replaced with a solid body that stopped levitating, but only for a few seconds, because it returned to its ghost-like form again.
"I see. There's a time gap I can use to… Hold on, who said I must do what they want me to do?!"
Seeing that he didn't test his hypothesis regarding plasma, Braylon materialized Fornax and applied it on the demon. As it turned out, plasma was able to hurt it even in ghost form, although it didn't melt it, having the same effect as a normal bullet would have on a solid object. The demon fell, grunting like a camel, covered in ghostly blood.
"Do you hope you found a loophole you can exploit? Do you think you are free now? Should we try again? Yes, we should."
Three more ghost demons (he labeled 'Phantom' for obvious reasons) appeared in the room, one in front of him and two behind. Dodging the first volley was harder than expected. He had to be careful, lest he became an ice sculpture. They aimed at legs, head and chest. After the second volley, where one of the fireballs flew uncomfortably close to his face, Braylon used Fornax to kill two of them, their blood blue like Caconoid's, noticing how they don't attack when they turn corporeal. The remaining one was easily killed.
"How boring. You may proceed."
Fornax returned to PDA. He already used all ammo he could for Leviathan and he sure as hell wasn't going to do the same with the third most powerful weapon in his arsenal, other two being Nukem and Leviathan. He was about to change the plasma gun for something else when a Mancubus appeared as soon as he opened the gate, something that wasn't supposed to happen in the visions. Taken by surprise, he jumped sideways, thus avoiding fire released from its cannons.
"Did the rules change?!"
He had to use Fornax's special attack. That would deplete the battery completely, which was at thirty percent. The Mancubus strolled into the room. It burped twice, turning slowly towards the Vault Hunter...
A beam of plasma struck its chest.
It staggered backwards, stunned by the beam's power. If it could look down, it would notice a steaming hole in its armor. The beam had enough power to pierce through its armor, cooking all flesh it touched before blood could erupt. It gargled incoherently, blood filling its mouth. Braylon threw a grenade at its feet as he ran to the other side of the room. A foot and part of the stomach was gone. Not that it killed it or anything.
"Jesus! Will you die already?!"
Braylon materialized Striker and fired at the head. Only after he destroyed it completely did the Mancubus fall. It took four shots. His supply of shotgun shells began to dwindle. He would use them all if he had to, dammit.
The second path was free of the fog. It was a third bridge that lead to a thin, cylindrical structure. The bridge led to somewhere behind said structure, wrapping around it like a snake. One of those spider-like demon cyborgs guarded the bridge, because of course it had to. He stopped caring the moment he realized he had no room for choice because the concept of choice was meaningless the whole time. Even as he used Omni-Cannon to bring the demon down, jumping and rolling to avoid its continuous stream of plasma bullets, his memory returned to all previous encounters. There was always a road he had to follow, an encounter he had to survive, enemies getting stronger and stronger. It was like a game, where he was the playable character and the demons he fought were the players. He dismissed the analogy as stupid, because words couldn't describe how soul-crushing it felt.
Not that he would ever believe a demon, mind you. The whole thing really sounded too good to be true, no matter how twisted it was. There was no way one could escape from Hell the way he did, and with the help of a demon no less. But when one is subjected to methods of torture humanity never knew existed, one starts praying for opportunities of any kind to show up. With that thought out of the way, and with the demon blown apart, Braylon was free to reach the cylindrical building. No demon was there to ambush him when he entered. There was just a teleporter.
"Here we go..."
Screams are usually a bad sign, especially when they belong to demons and monsters. Braylon couldn't quite tell where he was. He was brought on a wide, rocky, disc-shaped platform hovering above a lake of magma. A cylindrical wall made of red rock surrounded the place approximately two meters away from the platform, reaching into the "sky" as far as his eyes could see. It was warm enough to feel like he was a piece of metal in a furnace.
And he wasn't alone.
The wall contained hundreds of cells, each designed to hold its host and its host alone. And boy what hosts. Unlike the demons he fought, the prisoners were completely different. To his right, a giant frog with perfect human teeth and eyes with four pupils. To his left, a humanoid wearing disturbing masks all over its body. Then there was a giant egg made of human skin, a dark red brain infested with worms, a snail with hundred eyes and pincers, a humanoid rooster with feathers made of compressed air, a living diamond, a cackling jar, a lion's head surrounded with five goat legs, and so on. All of them behind bars, howling, screaming, cursing, laughing, neighing, singing, growling, whispering. It was a madhouse for supernatural beings, he thought. And while he felt neither fear or anger, he wished he could stop all that noise, most of it skipping the ear part and going straight for the brain. We often complain about how others are so loud we can't hear ourselves think. That was literal for him.
"Everything is so dull." he heard the demon among other voices, "I am tired of executing plans I made myself. Everything becomes predictable, as it happened with you. You mortals behave exactly as I predict you will. The results are always amusing. But..." Braylon glanced nervously at one of the cells. He saw a naked woman with hair so long it covered her entire body. One red eye observed him silently through that golden sea. It freaked him out more than anything else. "But it takes so long to get the results. Maybe years, maybe decades. And before you know it, all that excitement withers away. Now that I am free, I thought about changing my methods, if only for a short period. I want to… improvise. I want to see what will happen when I add more variables, more diversity to the equation. And that is where you become useful."
"You will fight against brothers who wish to do so. Not the imprisoned ones, you see. They are my prisoners and I am the warden. As such, it is my duty to enforce order among these failures. And what better way than giving them what they want?" Braylon materialized Striker wordlessly. There was no escape. "Look at them. If only you were able to see their reactions when I told them we could escape from the Eternal Abyss, and that they would have none of it until their time served becomes satisfactory. This fight will serve as a reminder of what they could do if only they were more competent. But enough talk. Let the game begin."
Four tiny islands flew from below the platform, each carrying a Gore Nest. They fused to the platform. The audience became louder. Not all of them were excited or happy.
"Your first opponent will be a Paladin you encountered earlier. Should he fail, he will join other prisoners. That should be motivating enough, don't you think?"
A demon teleported from the Gore Nest in front of him. It was the alien-looking one with the gray-green skin. Although it reminded Braylon of a Hell Knight, it lacked the speed of one, clumping like it tried to squish bugs under its feet. He had a feeling it would be as tough as a Mancubus.
(DPM – Destroyer: (Fan-Made) Doom Eternal Soundtrack)
The Paladin conjured a green fireball like a Baron of Hell would, though it was larger than a Baron's, and threw it like a catapult would throw a rock. Braylon ran away from the fireball, but was caught by the wide area of the explosion it unleashed and fell. That was twice in one day, or at least he thought it was one day.
"I am noticing a fucking trend here."
Luckily his grip on the Striker was strong enough. Forcing himself to ignore the pain, Braylon rolled away from the fist that came down like a sledgehammer and from the bite that came afterwards. He shot the Paladin in the head. The pellets only peeled away a small chunk of skin and meat, nothing like when powered by Bumblebee's effect. Red blood leaked from the wound in tiny, almost unnoticeable streams. He needed something with more power.
Avoiding another fireball and its explosion, Braylon ran to the edge of the platform while the Paladin continued its casual walk. He materialized Nukem and fired. The explosion caused a great deal of commotion among the crowd. Braylon closed his eyes and covered his face. When the light faded, he saw the Paladin in pieces, half of it disintegrated while the other half tried to crawl to its target with poor success. It's hard to move with your only hand when it looks like it feel in wood chipper. Black smoke rose from the ground, enveloped the now dead body and disappeared. Those imprisoned demons who had fingers pointed at their fallen brother and laughed.
"Serves him right. That was pathetic. Don't let your guard down. We barely started."
Braylon dematerialized Nukem and reloaded Striker.
"This challenger formed a body he could fuse to machinery. He likes it a bit too much, in my opinion."
Through the rift of a Gore Nest came the familiar upper body of a Hell Knight, wearing a headset that partially covered its head. When it jumped out from the rift, he could see that everything from hips down was replaced with a metallic chassis similar to that of the spider demons from before, only it had dozens of tubes sticking from hips and stomach, some of them connecting to the headset. *****
"Great."
Due to the metallic contraption, it was way faster than a Hell Knight on its legs, reaching Braylon in less than a minute, though the swiftness of its arms was still the same, so he was able to avoid getting hit. Unexpectedly, it jumped backwards and charged straight for Braylon. He received a punch strong enough that his jaw was dislocated. It was pure luck, he could have lost it completely.
By God, did It hurt when he had to put it back. It had to be quick, because the Hell Knight was already on the move. Dammit, he was too slow. It caught him by the throat and lifted him up. He dropped his shotgun. His soul, his body… everything hurt…
No.
There was no way he would die. He was stronger than death.
You piece of shit, he thought, you will pay dearly that punch.
And he knew how.
When they were on the same eye level, the Vault Hunter noticed a large metal tube on its back. He figured it was a spine modified to tolerate the chassis. Braylon, as slowly as possible, raised his left hand up, acting as pathetically possible to not arouse suspicion while trying to not choke to death. When it was close to the spine, he jerked it forward, materializing Holo Sabre that went through its chest and into the metal. The Hell Knight roared as it let go, the Holo Sabre cutting all the way as Braylon dropped down. He then materialized Holo Ripper and cut off a leg. Loosing its balance, the Hell Knight fell. Braylon grabbed Striker and fired five times into its head, before falling on his arse, exhausted and wounded.
While the body went through the same process as the Paladin's, he heard the voice again.
"One on one battles are tiresome. How about a slaughter game? You fight until you actually die and return back to the Eternal Abyss."
"You piece of shit!"
"Now, now. Who said you would ever get out of my playground? Do you have a short memory? I told you what your role is. Anything outside that role is out of your reach. But I am not cruel as you might think. Here."
A light brown sphere appeared in front of him. He saw a monstrous face barking like a dog.
"This is a Megasphere; pure aetherial energy distilled from ten thousand Condemned souls. It will heal your physical wounds and form an aetherial barrier around your soul that will absorb all damage up to a certain point and shield it from the typical negative effects our presence can cause. Take it."
Braylon stared dumbly at the item.
"What is the matter? This isn't a Soulsphere, if you have any dilemmas."
The Vault Hunter was confused. Why would the demon help him if it wanted him to throw into a pit full of snakes? To prolong his suffering, obviously. It was the first, natural answer he could think of. But he needed to think it through, he had to.
"You don't have a choice, mortal. You will take it."
And there it was. Choice. He never had a choice, did he? There lied the answer. They wanted to break his spirit. Again. He now had all pieces of the puzzle.
The first time it happened, he went through extreme torture in Hell, soon after the Vault was opened. It was also the first time he experienced the second kind of pain, one that transcended the body. He never got used to the torture. Braylon had no need to eat, sleep or drink, except when they deemed it worthy to add in the long list that made his torment a nightmare. His stomach would complain, twist and demand food he never got. Sleep deprivation would often be accompanied with forced drowning in pools of blood. Each technique, while diverse, was efficient in achieving wanted results. If there was hope that longed for freedom, it was completely gone at some point in time he didn't bother to remember, along with his PDA.
"I know your desire for an actual confrontation. Why waste it now?"
His personal executioner once left the room. It was then that the voice appeared, offering him freedom in exchange for obedience. After the sign was carved on his hand, as a reminder of his actions, the voice guided him out of the prison, while also explaining some rules he would always need to remember if he really wanted to regain freedom. It told him where to go, what switch to pull, when to hide and when to run. Back then, he had no idea how supernatural beings could be so easily fooled as they were, never thinking for a second that it could all be intentional. After being led through many places that did and did not exist, he finally found a rift that would take him out of Hell. To make it more legit, not only did the voice act as he would expect, but they also staged a couple of "invasions" where he would always save the day, no matter how strong the enemy was. That is why the voice always knew where the "invasion" started, but told half-truths for reasons yet unknown. How the Maidens fit in the story was still a mystery.
In short, they wanted to humiliate him further by telling him how he was a bird who sat on head of a bull while singing how special it was to everyone who ran out of the way. And the worst part? He now knew the truth and he still couldn't do anything about it. Why there was a Megasphere in front of him? Because the demon knew he would need it, thus proving once again that he was a mere puppet who would never fix anything. Giving a pathetic excuse of a hope only to crush it. He now wished for death more than ever rather than accepting the offer he couldn't refuse.
"God, why I must go through all of this? Why me? Why did I have to open that Vault? Why?"
Hiding his face from the demonic crowd, his hand reluctantly touched the Megasphere. It turned into a cream colored gas that enveloped his body. An aetherial green web occupied his vision for just a second, before disappearing completely. The pain was gone.
"Splendid." satisfaction blatantly oozed from the voice, "Prepare yourself, because you will not get any rest until you drop dead. You will learn how worthless your struggle is."
He heard a horn in the distance, though he didn't see any. Well, he thought, if he had to die, at least he would die in battle, no matter how stretched that word is.
(DPM – Diabolik: (Fan Made) Doom Eternal Soundtrack)
Demons teleported from all sides, some of them jumping out from the Gore Nests. Braylon gawked at their amount and ferocity as everyone and their mother decided to kill the puny human. It was unfair, but he realized that was the point.
While he stared at the wall of meat, metal and paranormal, a Peon and two Vulgars crept up behind him. Without even realizing how close he was to death, he jump-rolled away from a Rahovart's energy ball. He heard an explosion as blood and something wet rained all around him, some of it falling on his back. Why even bother to see who died when he had a thousand more to deal with?
It was, for the lack of a better word, a clusterfuck. Some demons actually fought between themselves because they dared to shove others aside or kill everything on their path indiscriminately. There were screams, there was blood, there was the audience. Too much going on to follow it all.
Avoiding a Hell Knight's fist, he shot a Former Human on his left, ducked under a Grunt's fireball and shot its knee. It didn't chop off the leg as expected, but the Grunt lost balance and fell, before a Paladin's fireball exploded. Braylon, before falling, saw the aetherial green web for a second. The pain he felt was only physical, surprisingly. That hardly mattered when dropped on the ground, right near some Zombie Pigmen and a Wraith, with an Oni Burning Mouth emerging behind them. Cursing loudly, the Vault Hunter backrolled seconds before the Oni spat fire at him, burning other demons who couldn't escape fast enough, leaving behind a black streak.
"This is so fucking hard!"
Back-pedalling stopped abruptly when he tripped over an eviscerated corpse of a Former Human who wore a tattered outfit reminiscent of the old Crimson Lance soldiers. If he hadn't done so, his head would become sashimi made with a chainsaw. Braylon stared bug-eyed at its wielder; a green-skinned, red-eyed, Imp-like humanoid with tiny spikes on its shoulders, probably a head taller than him. ******
He was ready to fill it with lead, but his right arm and chest were enveloped with some black rock that grew from the platform. Gasping, he looked to the left. There was a Void Caller who used its abilities to keep him down. He couldn't use the shotgun, but he could use the Holo Ripper he materialized to block the chainsaw's descent towards his neck. It was mind-boggling how Holo Ripper, being a tool made of solid light, couldn't damage a similar tool made of actual metal.
The chainsaw demon was no joke. Braylon had trouble holding the tool from advancing further. One wrong move and he would die. His right arm was stuck, but the hand wasn't. The Oni was coming closer.
"Shit! Shit! Shit!"
Suddenly, a Baron's red hand pushed the chainsaw wielder away. It cried out in protest but the taller demon ignored it, looking down on Braylon with pure hatred. It was probably someone he "defeated" before.
It received a chainsaw to the hip. The Baron spun around and backhanded the demon's head off, staining everything with green blood, then crushed the chainsaw with a hoof. But when it turned around, one of its knees exploded, courtesy of Orphan Maker. When it was about to tear the human's heart out, it received two large fireballs to its back from a Mancubus who thought it would be best if it just set everything on fire. There was no way such a blasphemy would go unpunished, so the Baron charged at the Mancubus, leaving behind the human who couldn't go anywhere because of Void Caller's sorcery.
It was a good thing they all hated each other, Braylon thought.
But the problems only kept growing and not diminishing. He was going low on ammo of the most important guns in his arsenal, his movements were reduced as much as possible and there was a giant demon ready to either burn him alive or stomp him until everything in his body turned to jelly. The Former Human corpse under his legs only made it worse. Panicking, Braylon swapped Orphan Maker for Excalibastard and quickly aimed at the Oni, firing a beam into its left eye. The Oni howled, dropping the club it held above its head, which squished a Pain Elemental that flew to close to the ground for its own good.
"Stop! All of you!"
A voice boomed from nowhere, silencing everyone and everything. All activity, from fighting to cheering, stopped faster than humanly possible. Even the prisoners stayed quiet. This also meant that the black rocks that kept Braylon down crumbled to dust. But rather than fighting, he took the opportunity to rummage through the corpse. He found few shotgun shells and some useless ammo for a pistol he didn't use. When he thought that pittance was all he would find, he inspected the belt and spotted a grenade mod he immediately stashed, along with the ammo, in his PDA.
"Mortal."
He knew that slur was directed at him. That wasn't scary. The tone that combined statement, order, threat and ultimatum was. During the heavily one-sided match, the fear and anger effects weren't present, which made it a bit awkward for Braylon who got used to otherwise. Now it exploded deep within him with unparalleled power. His body, if it were a cat's, would have all of its body hair turned into needles as it hissed at danger. The aura of doom that emanated from behind him was the force that drew his eyes. Eyes that told him all "living" demons formed a line and stood still like statues, ignoring the blood and corpses of the fallen.
(Doom 2016 – Hell's Choir)
The man in the tuxedo held his hands on the walking stick, face too calm to reveal his thoughts or emotions.
"Enough mind games." A hand rose from the stick. "Give me… the ring."
Almost hit the 10.000 words milestone. I had no idea I could do that. This part was written with a WAD map type of thinking. By making it look like a level from the classic games, I was able to get the feel of how to write the future chapters where demons are fought in strange dimensions and realities. The first portion of the strange dimension was designed to be pretty linear. You go to a place, hit a switch, repeat. However the last scene was written to resemble a slaughtermap scenario, where you are locked in a room and a lot of stuff comes at you from all sides, which mostly ends in monster infighting while you pick off the biggest threats. I would like if you could give me a feedback, so that I can add or remove certain things in future chapters to make them better.
Fun Fact: Rahovart is the name of a subtype of Pain Elementals in the Doom RPG, but I decided to give it to the second type of Cacodemons, the Doom 3 version, where I gave them the ability to shoot energy balls which can deal Explosive damage.
The Hell Paladin is the late-game version of the Hell-Knight in Doom 3. It acts exactly like in the game. Slow, tough, strong. I can't help but think how the Doom (2016) version and this one are related. They look almost the same, with a few changes of course. Note how this is the last variation of the Hell Knight. The reason for this is because enemies like the Baron of Hell and Hell Knights are already strong, so one additional version for each will be enough, because these versions are basically X on steroids.
PDA Biopedia:
*Entry #97: Hell Paladin
Type: Demon
Faction: Legions of Hell
Description: "Rest assured that rewards tend to happen often to those who decide to make an effort when doing something. Only the best Hell Knights can become Hell Paladins; someone who is more worthy than a hundred soldiers. The promotion process is long and difficult. Every Hell Knight gets only one chance to win the title and receive additional power. This is intentional, as it makes the selection easy and efficient."
**Entry #98: Arachnotron – Thalamus
Type: Demon
Faction: Legions of Hell
Description: "War machines forcefully possessed by those too weak to form strong bodies, but too intelligent for their own good. We simply fuse them to the metallic body against their own will. The weapon serves to vent out their frustration at anything alive in the material plane. Because of their refusal to accept the body we give them, their performance is mediocre at best. Give people a finger and they will take the arm, eh?" (Deals exclusively plasma damage)
***Entry #99: Rahovart
Type: Demon
Faction: Legions of Hell
Description: "There is not much to say about the Rahovarts and their connection to the Caconoids. One thing that differs between them is the motive for their hunt. A Caconoid hunts to satiate its eternal hunger. A Rahovart will hunt to frighten its prey. He will do anything to make his prey scared, only to hunt it down like a shark. Ambushes, spectral breathing, purposefully missing the target to disorient them. Fear draws them to the prey. And they will do anything to get it, before they go for the kill."
****Entry #100: Phantom
Type: Demon
Faction: Legions of Hell
Description: "Phantoms are a footprint left behind by a fallen Imp, able to manipulate air around it into a special fireball that can freeze targets to extremely low temperatures. By fallen, I mean dead. In mortal words, it is a ghost. Sounds impossible? You can thank the Unchained Predator for that." (it can be damaged only by energy weapons while in "ghost" form, immune to Cryo damage, ranged attacks deal Cryo damage)
*****Entry #101: Olviel the Headtaker
Type: Demon – Hero
Faction: Legions of Hell
Description: "What is this? Why is there a sudden fascination with mechanics? Is there a reason for such complications? It reminds me of that one encounter with a brother of mine, where I asked why did he fuse his body with so much metal. He laughed at my face and called me a boomer."
******Entry #102: Sawcubus
Type: Demon
Faction: Legions of Hell
Description: "Every faction out there has one or two loonies obsessed with butchering things. We are no different. When some brothers found out that mortals use tools called chainsaws to cut down trees, they thought it would be nice to use said chainsaws to cut down mortals. Soon the chainsaw became the only thing they could identify with, because everything they did someone did better, so they changed their names to Sawcubi. I think I don't need to tell you what happens if you get too close to one."