And by God be shooting

A Doom short story

Don’t shake me, don’t shake me Lucifer. -Rocky Erickson

She couldn’t hear a thing.
The wailing of chain teeth searing with ease through flesh and lodging themselves in bone, the successive pull of the trigger and the deafening roar of buckshot hitting two targets in quick succession, the clicking of the break action hammering new shells home just as the spent casings hit the ground.
The next imp in line got both barrels at once before it could dodge out of the way, leaving the left side of his chest in tatters while the shot went straight through, hitting the demon behind him with full force.
The payload hit the Baron as if nothing had been there to shield the blow, blowing a sizable chunk of his neck and leaving the creature to buckle backwards with a clatter of hooves on stone.
Click-click, shells out.
Shells in, Click-click.
No time to check on him, another imp lunged and broke apart within a few seconds.
There was no time to think, to select targets or process the soundscape surrounding her, thinking was slow, those things moved fast. Some of them jumped away from her field of vision one too many times before they found themselves unable to outrun her fire, they were nailed down one by one, and ended with their innards spread all over as if torn open from the inside.
She couldn’t hear the shrieks of pain or the curses hurled against her, it was bloody all over. Everywhere. It permeated her and the beasts like a thick layer of sludge absorbing all sound.
Another one of the barons had his maw wide open in pain while holding his side, but she couldn’t hear him nor the clatter of the motorized chains trying to dislodge themselves from his ribs.
She made her way back towards the beast wile opening fire on the rest of the crowd amassing at her sides.
Something came from the corner of her vision. Fire was something they had on their own.
Aw fuck.
The world turned green while the back of her right shoulder blistered red hot, she was sure her fur would start combusting right under the vest, burning her alive like an armored wicker man. Gone was one of the heat sinks attached to her shielding. Those things were meant to fend off plasma from man made weaponry, not balefire.
The impact was unbearable, the sounds and the chaos returned to her, the martial trance got cut off in one blow that brought pain absolutely alien to her senses, a kind of pain that penetrated deep within her muscles ignoring her armor and fur and skin altogether. As if parasites had lodged themselves deep on her flesh and had awoken to a feeding frenzy in less than a second.
She lost her grip on the shotgun, it was impossible to hold anything like this, she’d rather cut off her own arm right then and there.
Keep it together, Daisy, keep it together girl, KEEP IT TOGETHER.
She could hear everything, the pieces of meat still falling, the demons coming towards her, the second blast that she was too late to dodge.
From straight ahead it hit her squarely on the front above the right chest plate, it was fire, thank god it was just fire.
She felt the recoil of the impact and lost momentum, the other heat sink overloaded, shutting down temporarily. But it was still there.
The fire enveloped her like the aftermath of a molotov cocktail. But she was still running.
Her right arm was numb.
Still running.
The halls were stone and flesh, bone and corpses still writhing, rotting alive, strung together in twisted mounds, hanging, encased in pillars, rearranged beyond recognition yet still breathing an pleading. Maybe the lucky ones were sent her way, she couldn’t know.
But she had the one thing the damned in hell couldn’t have.
A score to settle.
In one swift move, she jumped forward towards the wounded baron.

The baron’s mid section exploded in a hail of gore as her boots lodged themselves deep into the open wound. Even after what felt like ages, the engines of her baby were still churning, trying still to dig further into the creature and finish sawing it apart. She grasped the handle, and pressed the ignition trigger while the impact landed the baron on his back.
With one swift move she dislodged the machete, it’s chain revving itself back to full speed like a sword with infinite teeth tearing open what was left of the spine in a shower of red and green muck. The fire was gone.
The trance returned, she hopped to the side sending large chunks flying as her boots left the corpse. The pain on her right was somewhat bearable now, but her left arm was still in full swing.
A bizarre machine it was, it cut all the same, the chain powered parang had been one of the many bastard children of the UAC on the days preceding the Tyrant, before Mars and the warped hellscape of Deimos, before all the beasts encased in chrome roaming the hallways and eating the dead. It had gone from a tool of worship into an extension of her limbs, drawing gaping, searing wounds into nerves and muscle.
One of the corpse pillars collapsed into itself, burying some of the fodder under stone and dust and god knows what else, she took note of the surroundings: the landscape had shifted, there was no ceiling anymore, there were no walls either, the black stone they were fighting on was now alone in the void, red peaks could be seen beyond lurking from tangerine tinted mist, but that was all.
Business as usual.
One o’clock, nothing, two o’clock, slow, pained almost humanoid figures arising from the remains of the pillar, one big, pinkish mound of flesh emerging.
Three o’clock, nothing, five o’clock, a knight, from six to eleven: imps, more imps, fireballs and even more imps.
All around the clock, red and blue dots littered the skies.
Scrap that, one o’clock, a pyre out of nowhere. Not one of those.
«Oh, hell NO.»
Out of her mouth it sounded more akin to oh hail no.
Darn tootin’.
Revving up the engine now. At least the heat sink had come back online, she could take another shot maybe, but not whatever the tall one was dishing. She hopped towards the pinky about to crash into her, meeting metal teeth with fangs thick as wrist and cutting them down to size with sickening ease. The blade went up through the roof of the mouth killing the thing as it exited above its temple. The body thumped forward as she dodged out of the way.
The Archvile had manifested itself straight ahead, raising his arms to the sky, ready to call upon the true fire of this plane on her. She started to sprint.
Faint ghostly flames enveloped her, there was no amount of blood that could quench them this time if they manifested themselves fully.
Before she even knew it, she had gone from a sprint into another jump and a lunge, lodging the machete straight into the Archvile’s emaciated rib cage, there was wailing and blood yet by some miracle the tall demon managed to support himself despite flinching backwards, he was a tough bastard this one, all too resistant for a being that was all skin and bones.
No devil magicks for you at least.
The fireballs were coming, no time to drive the blade deeper. She let go of the handle prematurely and rolled to the ground, leaving the onslaught of friendly fire to roll over the Archvile while she took cover the best she could behind his figure.
One after the other they hit; balefire, flames, blue strikes of plasma-like lighting, half a dozen small explosions landing in quick succession, a piece of rib cage went flying along with the machete. The Archvile reeled back, trying to cover itself with its long arms to no avail, the hits kept coming.
The finishing blow came from her service pistol as she shot the creature in the back of the head.
An AP round with a delayed explosive payload for his troubles.

She collapsed lazily on the remains of a cacodemon, the soft reddish flesh deflating under the full weight of her battered marine kit. The second heat sink was gone, leaving a deep gash accompanying all sorts of hits all over the armor. The bandolier was reduced to a fine strip of leather barely keeping itself together against her chest, completely dry save for one, lone shell. The holster and the scabbard where still alright all things considered, but the chain powered machete was in bad need of new teeth.
She was tired as all hell.
The plasma rifle had been stuck this entire time inside the innards of a hell knight, even now it stared at her a couple of paces to her right, mockingly. That thing would have saved her some trouble, a whole of a lot of trouble in fact, she had forgotten already how it had gotten there, and couldn’t be bothered to take it if her life depended on it.
The round carcass welcomed her like a warm, fleshy cushion, she was tired alright, spent, completely done, the devil himself could come to claim her and she wouldn’t be willing to budge an inch.
We are already in hell, she though, it ain’t like they can take me anywhere else.
She needed a shower, a bite and a hard bunk bed, maybe one of those trashy books about buff barbarians too. She could get halfway though the chapter and fall asleep while the rest of the company was making a ruckus, bickering and doing dude things with a deodorant and a lighter, laughing like idiots while their voices bounced all over the halls of the station.
She thought about the farm, waking up just a little before sunrise with the clanking of short metal legs against hardwood, the smell of cheap coffee filling the room.
Flynn had asked her once if she wanted the good stuff instead. It was a holdover from basic, she had replied, I’m too used to it.
Poor little fella.
She reached for her helmet and released the clasp mechanism, the smell of brimstone and guts wasn’t all that better than the rebreather, but her ears ached after hours of being pressed against her skull, they needed to be let out for once.
Her nostrils flared: boiling blood and burnt flesh, damn that smelled better than it should.
There was a particularly nasty cut on her right running all the way from the elbow joint to the wrist where the vest didn’t cover. Easy enough, grab the stims, jam the needle, apply the gross white plaster over it, good to go in a minute or two.
Then you chewed the nutrient pack, slowly, there was nothing to savor, and it didn’t fill you stomach, but at least you wouldn’t faint while stims kicked your metabolism into overdrive, the sudden jolt was nasty, the aftereffects were particularly nasty. It never failed to piss her off.
The air got charged with static, didn’t feel like usual teleportation trickery, but it was just as unwelcome.
Daisy stashed her hears into the back of her head and fastened the helmet back in place. The shotgun was at her side, empty and bloody. She grabbed the last shell off the bandolier, a 10 gauge round of cluster munitions that exploded on impact. Just like every other ammo type she carried around, anything short of overkill was just asking for trouble if an archvile decided to show up.
«If you are with them sentinel fucks I’m NOT interested! Ya hear?»
No answer came back.
The weapon clicked as it closed, she didn’t bother to do anything else, whoever made her move off her seat and towards the plasma rifle would be very, very sorry.
A tall figure stood in front of her, it was sudden, quicker than she could process it.
He was clad in deep black like the stone below them, pale ,milky eye sockets staring at her from under a black stetson.
«Howdy kiddo,» It raised a hand at her. «how’s the cousin?»
Both skull and headwear dissipated into a cloud of fine bone dust, burnt leather and black felt. It was useless. Like a glitch in a hologram, all it took was the blink of an eye for all of it to come back together, as if nothing had happened.
Click.Click. Nope, she had fired alright.
«Heya, Bones.»
The figure looked around the killing field as she rested the shotgun on her lap, it made a whistling sound with no lips, then it looked back at her as if it was rising an eyebrow.
«You worry me sometimes, girl.» Death said. Long fingers barren of meat reached inside of his duster coat. There was the sound of straps unfastening. «If it isn’t the Tyrant running me out of business it’s going to be you getting me fired I swear…»
A bandolier full of ammo slapped her in the shoulder, flopping lazily to her lap.
«You better make these last. I have better things to do than chasing you around the malebolge like the proverbial white rabbit.»
«So you are not here to pick me up.»
«You have plenty of options for that, yes.» He nodded towards the shotgun.
«Not in the mood, Bones.»
«Then get back to work, kiddo. Remember that eternal champions are a dime a dozen these days, I can’t juggle you people around like bowling pins all day.» He fastened his belt around an ancient Colt single action glistening from its holster. «I’ll see to it if you can keep your damn self alive. If you want to nap early you can sleep on the boat. Do I make myself clear?»
There were a couple of extra goodies stashed in ammo pouches hanging from the bandolier. An energy cell, some spare stims, assorted bits of ammo like slugs and pistol magazines. And new chains, how thoughtful.
«I got you the good stuff, none of that high explosive shit you like so much. Next portal they send your way, you rush it. You know what to do.»
Her legs ached as she got up. She tore off the old bandolier and proceeded to secure the new equipment in place.
«Good stuff, you say.» Daisy glanced at him, shotgun strapped to her back.
His voice betrayed some playfulness.
«Blessed in Agua Bendita. Because I care.»
«You have my thanks, Doc.»

Bones?
Yes, kiddo?
Hot plasma landed onto the crowd, limbs melted and stuck together, skin bubbled up under the heat and cratered sending boiling blood in all directions.
What’s up with all this bullshit? I mean, ALL of it. Phobos, Earth, all these damn planes of hell. The demons, the suffering.
How come WE are the only ones cleaning this mess? Where’s God? Where are all the damn angels?
Oh, you wound me girl.
Daisy jumped over the pile of flaming corpses, raising her steel toed boots forward and landing atop a rampaging pinky.
Perhaps Hell itself is not good enough to steel your faith, my child?
One. Two. Three. It’s skull caved under the weight of reinforced heels.
Why US? The fuck’s going to happen to me if I bite it? Do I get to rot in here ‘till the man upstairs decides its about time to get off his ass? Why? Why is this allowed to happen?
Barons. Lots of them. Balefire landed all around her. She didn’t let go of the trigger.
Beats me, girl. I’m just the middle man here.
Don’t get coy with me, Bones.
A group of three barons shielding a revenant. They were hosed down in short order as she rushed their position, point blank plasma fire did the first one in.
I’m no theologian, kid. But hear me out on this one: Imagine you are the almighty being of all creation for a moment, and your firstborn just says to you: fuck you dad! I do what I want!
The second one got sawed in the neck. The third baron closed in amid the utter confusion only to have the back of his head blown off by friendly fire.
Now, what are you supposed to do in that situation? Assert your parental authority, right? talk some sense into him, give him a good spanking, tell him he’s grounded and that he can’t come out to play anymore until he behaves like a good little kid.
But no matter what you do. The little shit. Won’t. Listen.
Unprotected and forced up close, the revenant tried to counter with a downward rounhouse using the full length of his right. She baited the punch, jumped backwards and doused its skull with three rounds of burst fire.
He’s a little pest to his siblings, who just happen to be absolutely everyone, he acts like a complete brat, he breaks all the things, he shits on the floor and smears it all over the walls. Now what do you do? You kick him out when he turns 18, not your problem anymore, he is an adult, he can fend off for himself, right?
But wait a minute, you are GOD. You can just raise your hand and snap your fingers, that’s it, done. Business as usual.
Except that you won’t do that.
The machete was out and running. Another revenant tried to get a lock on her only to get sawed in half below the ribcage.
He’s your son, what kind of father would just snap his son out of existence? What kind of father hangs a reset button over the head of his children for all eternity?
You are the almighty being of all creation, you are the man with the big pants, Big G. But for you it’s like trying to take out the needle in a haystack with fingers bigger than the whole damn pile! Sure, you could hit rewind every time something goes tits up, but that would be wrong, that would taking the ONE gift you leave for your children, the one thing that separates them from YOU.
A big mass of meat and muscle towered before her, she had seen his kind before, only with more metal bits and a rocket launcher the size of her rib cage, this one was still in one piece it seemed. He didn’t seem any lesser for it.
And that, is Free Will 101. But that’s just my interpretation, I dunno, go ask Him or something, that good enough for you?
Wish it were.
They circled each other like waiting piranhas. One heavy hoof stomped the ground in a challenge, she made the chains sing in response.
Good. Between you and me, kiddo. I would probably have doused that ungrateful little fuck in gasoline eons ago.
Now get back to work already.

«Who are you, little rabbit?» Said the beast. «What drives one such as you to come to us before their time?»
Deep cuts bled from his arms and mid section, exposed bone protruded from the numerous wounds on its hind legs, but it was like trying to cut down a mammoth with a scalpel. You could cut and cut all you wanted and it would still be standing ready to charge all the same.
By comparison she was in tatters, her left arm had been broken for the second time in the same fight, she had been swatted around and stomped like a bug more times than she could count, and the stacked aftereffects of multiple stimpacks were starting to pay back with the kick of a berserk injector.
There was no trance, no thought on her movements, only rage, rage, rage.
«YOU…You f…» She couldn’t let the words out, only spit through the broken visor of her helmet.
She thought of cheap coffee, the smell of livestock, of the old days on earth before the recruiters came, of that time she had made one of the rookies clean toilets for a week for making fun of her accent.
«F-fucking…»
Her arm twitched and it felt like her bones had grown spikes in and out of her flesh, fingers open and closed as the blood flowed back in, good as new. It was awful.
«You fucked up hell daemons took away my Flynn…» She shifted around her legs and gripped her blade with both hands. «Now you are all gonna PAY.»
Pattern 3 AI capable of free will and complex emotions, cute as a button, one of a kind that one. Like a little puppy who could tell you he loved you and mean it.
Too pure for this world, the little thing. There was no backup of him, not anymore with earth in ruins, and who would carry someone without a soul through the river Styx? Not Doc Bones, certainly. That wasn’t his wheelhouse.
The beast looked at her in disbelief.
«Who are you… who serves the Traitor, who stalks the realms below, who tears down the House of Pain and slays the damned… over a toy?»
«You don’t know shit.«
Daisy took a step backwards and launched herself into a sprint. She would kill the mammoth with her own damn hands if she had too.

She dug her boot into its right eye.
The bloody eye socket sucked her in, she took out the boot and jammed it back with everything she had left, the sound made her sick, but she kept doing it.
One, the first one is for Flynn. Two, this one is for the guys: Nikas, Duffy, Twitchy, Fuckup, Lil’ Medina, Don…
Three, this one for turning pop’s grave into a burning crater, four, this one is for Tootsie, Old Rosie and Mr. Peacock, five, this one is for the stable boy and the kid in the bar, god knows what happened to them, six, that one is for Phobos and Deimos, seven, eight, nine, those are for Earth, ten, that one was for fucking her up six ways to Sunday.
Eleven.
Twelve.
Thirteen.
«Kiddo.»
Fourteen.
Fifteen.
«Hey, kiddo.»
«Back with ya…» Sixteen. Seventeen.
«In a second…» Eighteen.
Nothing. She gasped for air.
Nineteen.
«Alright… that’s all.» She was ready to collapse right then and there, but something kept her straight despite the utter failure of her muscles.
I’m jacked up my tits in stimpacks, she though, that might have something to do with it.
«You need a break.»
«You damn right Ah do.»
With shaky but deliberate movements, she tried to climb down, a slip when her legs gave in made her come crashing downwards with a series lazy thuds. She cursed herself and tried to get back to her feet, it was no use, she fell on her rear again, splashing blood over the saturated ground.
«Help me out, Bones. Will ya?»
«Alright girl, can’t say you didn’t keep your end of the deal.» A portal appeared behind him.
«Le’ts get you out of here for now.»
To home, to some respite.
And then more killing. Till they caved her skull in or hell ran out of demons.