#troll! doomguy au

[raventroll80]

....your Troll! Slayer in the dark ages armor. or just the big fur cloak

:D

-Omie

Ehehhehehehehehehehehehheeehehe

I’m nowhere near confident enough to attempt drawing the armour yet, but I do love the idea of my big guy just scooping up Arve in his cape for some cuddles.

[omies-odd-writing-spot]

Fort

Gift story thing for @raventroll80 [this... turned out a loot longer then I meant it to.... But that's what I e been doing lately]

Fort:

Heather woke up more than a little confused, it smelled and felt like her bed but it was a lot cooler than she was used to. If not almost cold, and that was weird but sometimes happened. The girl tried to sort out where she was, managing to remember the bigger than big person. Being carried by him outside and the glowing… portal.

Like what some of the monsters came out of, but a different color and felt cooler then the hot-ness that the monster portals. Those looked like the embers of those cooking fires in the sanctuary harbors.

…had he found her mom?

Heather flopped back in her bed, trying to get under the blankets again. Thinking of what she saw while being carried before a massive hand had lifted and held her to the Mountain’s armored chest. Almost wrapping around her upper body. Stopping her from getting more than a glimpse of wet, sticky stuff the monsters liked to pile up. The girl remembered just getting a few seconds of looking up at the rusty red ‘sky’ and the dark orange in the clouds above. It was not much, but everything had seemed hazy around them like fog trying to roll in as he walked. It had been hard to breath before being uncomfortable with the portal. 

She rolled over under her blanket and onto something cold and hard. Feeling around and then found a silver and blue tablet-like pad, relieved to find it. A little puzzled at the message on it before the rest of her memories kicked in. The girl tried to stay in bed as long as she could, talking by carefully typing under the blanket to the other person… Vega. He was nice, and like the city AI before she stopped responding to everything.

Heather wondered what the stars looked like at this place. She had not seen them for a long time even before the basement-bunker. Vega said, on the tablet, that there were a lot of stars. He also got the girl to sit up as she really woke up and look for her slippers on the bed.

Little pink and yellow knitted slippers were found, and armed with not just the tablet, but a defensive easter bunny. Heather padded out of the semi-empty room she was in. Blinking at the light but following the instructions to find a bathroom she could use.

After a good five or ten minutes later, Heather felt much better! She even remembered and figured out how to wash her hands on her own! 

Now the drawback of the situation, the child was wide awake and in a new place. 

It was big and anything but plain. The walls had all sorts of carvings in and on them. Even some areas looked like there should be a window in the wall, but it was only smooth polished shiny stone. Heather could not even reach the bottom edge.

Did the Mountain make these? He should have painted the window!

Heather had made a lot of pictures of windows with her mom at the bunker. Maybe the Mountain could do that too!

…where was the Mountain?

The girl looked around for the first time, puzzled, and then she walked back to where her bed had been placed. Being much more awake she was taking in the massive halls around her. The room that her bed and several things from the bunker was in, also had other boxes and bins. Heather poked at those that were not sealed, finding some blankets, and she asked Vega on the tablet to have a colorful green one with sunflowers on it. 

With permission she pulled it to the bed.

Heather sat up on the bed as a thought popped up. She carefully typed out the question after another good look around. ‘Am I in the closet?’ 

The mountain was so big, everything was really big except the one space of the bathroom. There was a two second pause before Vega responded by text.

‘No Heather, you’re not in a closet. It was an empty store room.’ The city-like AI tried to explain, ‘The other things are what the Slayer found in the neighborhood you were in.’

‘Closet!’ Heather giggled, thinking of the big walk in closet her and her mother had slept in for several weeks before finding the basement bunker. She kicked her slipper covered feet in the air on the side of the bed, looking around and thought for the Mountain it was more like that size to him. The girl tried to explain it, and Vega seemed to like her thought. 

The girl got up and felt brave enough to leave her easter bunny on the bed, having spotted the familiar table with some more boxes. One was open and still had the pictures she drew by herself or what Heather and her mother did together. Very careful, because she knew paper was special now, she looked for her favorite picture.

It was one of those that her mother hand drew a window frame and let Heather make something inside. There was another one that Heather picked up and set on her bed, staring and touching both. The favorite picture they made together, and

Heather’s favorite window picture her mom had drawn of them and the dad she could not really remember well. It was just their backs, but heather was supposed to be, between her parents. She could tell by the color of their hair.

Careful not to crinkle the picture, Heather hugged it, being so careful. Then set it down and picked up the other picture. She was really, really proud of it, and it was the first picture that took her days to finish.

This was a better picture to give, Heather wanted to keep the one her mom made. Excited, she ran to the door. Stopped just outside to stare at the massively tall and wide hallway. Her nerve gave out and Heather ran back to the bed to set the picture down and grab her easter bunny to hug for comfort. After finger spelling several words like counting to calm down she reached for the tablet. 

‘Can I give thing to-’ Heather paused, realizing she did not know how to spell mountain. She thought, and then tried to spell it several times. 

‘Mountain?’ Vega supplied, with a picture of a mountain.

Heather brightened up and nodded. Paused and then tried to finger spell the letters in her way to start to remember. After that she made the sign for Mountain. 

‘Do you mean the Slayer is the Mountain?’ Vega’s question popped up on the screen. 

‘Moundtan,’ Heather paused, finger spelled the word Vega wrote, and after a second tried again. Half copping what was written already, ‘Mountain played with the monsters, and came into the bunker? What does s l a y e r mean?’

‘Slayer is the name of the mountain that saved you.’

Heather tilted her head, that was an odd name. Mountain seemed to fit, and she knew that sign. She wondered if he had made his name as a sign, he seemed to have been just learning it sometimes. ‘Can I give a gift to him? please?’

‘You can give the Slayer a gift.’ Vega responded through the text, ‘I am sure he will love one. Is it one of the drawings?’

The girl nodded excitedly, then paused, not sure where Vega could or did see her in the room. ‘Yesyes! I made it in the hiding spot before the bacemint!‘

‘Basement,’ Vega corrected, Heather trying to spell the letters out again. Not knowing that Vega was continually evaluating the girl and already had a lesson plan for her to get back on track for learning. ‘If you go outside, follow me through the purple lights. I will lead you to the Greenhouse area. You must go slow on the stairs, okay Heather?’

‘Purple light, slow on stairs.’ Heather repeated, holding the tablet and paper before pausing. Staring at her easier bunny, really wanting to take it too. She looked around and poked at the open boxes before finding her bag. Emptying it on the bed carefully, and repacking it, making sure she had all the things that were supposed to stay inside her backpack that her mom said. Hesitated and only put two cans of soup back in instead of the five like normal, as well as the packet of wishes and treasures her and her mom found. The other three were carefully hidden under her bed, not aware that the Slayer could and had just lifted it up to move it.

The paper was put in the backpack, then taken out and the pad put instead with the easter bunny. Feeling a lot braver now, Heather dared to go back in the hall, looking all around before seeing lights on the ground and on one side of the hall changing color and moving away. She padded after with her bright slippers, she was already following the moving lights through several halls before realizing she had not changed her clothes.

Heather remembered the Mountain sniffed her all at once. She stopped and looked down at the loose, slightly too big tan shirt she had on. Setting the picture down Heather grabbed the front and lifted it to sniff herself. Should she have a bath? Was that why he had sniffed her?

The girl had no idea where a bath would be, almost taking her backpack off to ask through the tablet. But she hesitated, thinking hard enough it was visible she picked up the picture off the ground and looked around. 

The hall was so big.

So were several rooms that were open, and though Heather dared to peek she did not enter them. Following the moving purple light to a large, long set of stairs that curved with a room. They looked around, hesitating on going down the steps that were at least a few feet each. Was this what Vega meant?

Then Heather spotted the oddness of the far left side of the stairs, walking over and found that it had a smaller set of stairs built into the side of the larger ones. The girl sat down on the top stair, seeing the purple light moving on the edging of the stairs. Even the light was going downwards slowly, so she scooted down one step at a time, doing as she was asked: going slow down the stairs.

Sitting on the last step to rest, watching the lights going down a hall in this new level. Heather looked up and all around, fascinated at the place that was so different from what she was used to. Yet she was not scared, a little nervous but the lights were still there moving slower and kept returning. She got up again and went back to following the lights to one of the many big closed doors. 

Heather hesitated as the colored lights all vanished, but the door opened. The girl gasped as warm air rolled out. It smelled right here as Heather walked slowly into the area. The light felt warm and not painful like on the surface. Something like her earliest memories, only…better. The smell of living plants, not the bitter sweet of ‘outside’ or too salty of the survivor camps and docks. 

There were so many different shades of green in the stacked growing beds. More than Heather had ever imagined on her own. She thought the pictures in the books her mother brought her were fake sometimes. The girl walked into the room as if in a trance, holding her picture with one hand and reached to a massive leaf that seemed bigger than her head. Heather was very careful to just lightly touch the big leaf, and startled at feeling it being so… firm. Having only really felt weeds that clung, or grasses that survived.

Heather was so lost in the wonder and amazement that she did not notice the glowing eyes watching her until heather backed up too far to look up. She squeaked and dropped, being top heavy with her backpack, the girl holding her picture up to protect it.

There was a deep rumble that Heather sort of recognized before it seemed like the world was moving around her. She held her picture up higher to try and protect it and squeaked as a shadow blocked out the bright grow lights. There was that low rumble again that Heather felt, and then a massive hand wrapped around the girl. Lifting and pulling her closer to the vibration, as the world kept moving without her input. 

Then she saw the glowing eyes, twisting a bit before starting to realize that the Mountain was here. He was setting her down and finishing rolling onto his side instead of laying on his back. No armor like before, but the mossy-egg color of the long sleeve…shirt? Outfit? It was like a long sleeve but seemed weirdly loose on the giant. Heather was not aware it was to give him range of movement. But she reached out with her left hand to pat the big hand as it started to draw back, there was a pause and the hand carefully patted her legs.

Heather jumped with a squeak as she remembered her picture, and the giant grunted around her. Startling as well, and that made Heather tense up as she was startled by him, being startled… by her…

The girl stared up with wide brown eyes up at the Mountain, the two both were rather confused about what just happened. He hands both hands hovering around the tiny human. 

“...?” Heather blinked slowly, looked down and turned her picture around. Holding up the picture for the Mountain to see. The window frame her mother drew, and the park that Heather had tried to draw based on pictures she had seen in books. The trees were a mix of different kinds and in the foreground was something she had seen. A big kangaroo male that had kicked a monster and made it go flying. “Ah…I…”

Heather had to pause, think about her lessons with her mother of how to say certain things. She liked sign more, but Vega said that the Mountain could hear, and was just learning sign. “Tthha…th-ank yu?”

The girl set the picture between the big hand and herself, not sure if she spoke aloud correctly. And signed a bit slower, just in case the Mountain…Slayer needed it to keep up. Thank you. Nice Mountain, gift for you! Window for the no windows? I made it! 

She was watching the giant Mountain as he was slowly starting to relax, bracing a hand near her before reaching over to pull the big paper closer to him. He looked puzzled, and then softened a bit in his strange but familiar face. Slowly moving from laying on his side to sitting up, Heather beside his left knee as he picked the paper up. It looked like a big sticky note between his fingers as he studied it.

The big rumble was back, low and vibrating through the ground almost. And when Heather turned to sit up and put her hands on his knee she felt it some more. Thank you. Pretty.

Heather brightened up at the slow sign back, wiggling happily. Then asked the current burning question, grasping the gray fabric of his loose pants to tug for attention. Letting go to ask. Is green real mountain? Are the green all real? Green plants! 

Plants are real. The Mountain blinked down at her, tilted his head and looked confused, then looked up as if he had to double check. Want to see?  

Heather gasped, nodding and bounced in place. Squeaking aloud as the giant Mountain moved, picking her up with his free hand and Heather hand to brace against his shoulder once moved over to it. She was not let go as the Slayer Mountain was getting up before signing as he stretched once standing up. The girl stilled as she saw… all the green things from where she was being held up so high up. The layered grow beds, the odd little drones hovering around helping to take care of them.

“...greeen…” Heather breathed in clear wonder as the Mountain walked, having never seen so much living green in one place that was not grass. She gripped the fabric of his shirt over the shoulder, trying to pull herself up to look around more. But he was holding her legs to keep the girl from falling.

Then the bigger, deep rumble came out of his chest. Vibrating in a way that was nice and did not seem to stop if he inhaled or exhaled.

Green things is a treasure. Heather signed to herself, as if remembering something being told to her. Before having to grip the fabric again, like the child was trying to ground herself as she tried to look all around at the plants.

[colorfuldonutrunaway]

Originally posted by hemo-canons.

[twitchesandstitches]

some of the influences of the version of Grimlock i use in my various fan continuities (and the one that appears in stories i do on this blog)

- Baseline is taken from the Grimlock from the Fall of Cybertron game and his general comic incarnations, as written exclusively by Simon Furman. He’s not the unintelligent brute he usually is in the cartoons, but a cunning, intelligent and fierce warrior. Physically he resembles the Grimlock from RID2015, especially in beast mode, and has some of his mannerisms.

- Dinobot from Beast Wars. Mostly in the sense of honor, with a more brutal edge. “I couldn’t allow you to fall. That would lacking in honor. I prefer to win duels honorably: BRUTALLY!”

- Doom Slayer/Doomguy, and the protagonist of the Wolfenstein games. This is pretty much how he solves his fights. With lots of horrific violence, ludicrous guns, and invoking absolute terror even among his allies. Also he would totally get a kick out of going to hell and just murdering the hell out of everything in sight.

- Aldo Raine, from Inglorious Basterds. Mainly in the sense of his sheer brutality, viciousness and his rationale for terrorizing foes; frightening them with cruelty and horror that they will refrain from evil in certain knowledge of the things he will do to them. It’s also fair to say that ‘vicious bastard’ can pretty much sum up ol’ Grims’ approach to things.

Hulk: Specifically, the Green Scar; the intelligent guy we see in Planet Hulk. more than a little bitter, cranky and wary of people in general. He’s also more than a little bit of a troll; dial down the angst a bit from Planet Hulk and emphasize the boisterousness, and you have Grimlock’s personality down.

Godzilla 2014: His beast mode often gives off a similar vibe, as well as his general mannerisms when he’s not in a talkative mood, or doesn’t know the language. He also employs his fire breath in a similar fashion, using it as an ultimate technique rather than one he throws out all the time.

It should be noted that my AUs are somewhat lighter in tone than a lot of my post might imply. This Grimlock may have a sordid past, but he’s more ‘screwing with everyone for giggles’ than ‘embittered outcast, convinced he is a monster’. He might believe such, or have been so at one point, but he is a lighter incarnation. Even so, he is probably the fleet’s most ferocious and cheerfully hyper-violent member and the most important guy around.

[raventroll80]

G/T July Day 31

Eepy

It’s Troll Nap 2 Electric Boogaloo!

A gift piece for my friend @omies-odd-writing-spot for writing those cute little stories about one of her characters Heater interacting with troll doomguy! (There's a more saturated version under the cut)

[raventroll80]

Troll Nap

My brain decided that it didn’t want to write so I drew the big lad (troll Doomguy (who goes by Slayer).

This is kinda spoilery for the troll doomguy au but not really since the fic that started it was about Slayer and the Intern meeting.

I had a fun time drawing this one, I got to experiment with trollish clothing, and mess around with the oil brush. The arm at one point looked like a thumb lmao.

[raventroll80]

G/T July Day 2: Studying

(aka) Doom Vignette 1

First entry for G/T July! Wooo! For this entry I'm trying to get back into the swing of things for the troll au! Here we get a small glimpse into Slayers time on Argent D'Nur.

It was a quiet day at the Slayer’s keep, folks were winding down from a recent deployment. Valen was writing up a report, his son was sparing in the courtyard with some other soldiers. The Slayer however, was nestled deep withing the castle sprawled atop his makeshift bed. Great blankets and furs were strewn about, though only one fur was atop the Great Slayer, his cape, and wrapped within that cape was his dearest of Sentinels. The Argenta in question wore a dark green-teal tunic and warm brown pants. His hair was tied back revealing a face littered with small scars. The man occasionally glancing up at the massive beast.

In his hands sat a sketchbook, and on its pages were various drawings of the Slayer in various stages of sleep, though there was also the occasional anatomy sketch of what the man though his skull would look like. The Argenta was familiar with the anatomy of beasts and man alike, but Verndar was a weird mix of both. He was similar in ways to the Ancestrals, but still too different to be one. Not even the Slayer himself knew what he was, though he didn’t mind. The Slayer yawned; his massive teeth were exposed as his jaw opened wide. The Argenta stared intently, watching in awe, and suddenly he figured out what the subject of his next study piece.

Carefully the young man scooted forwards, careful not to wake Verndar. Good thing the big guy slept like the dead. Gently, Arve placed his knee on the Slayer’s chin, and with his hands he gently opened his mouth, revealing the Slayer’s teeth. His massive teeth gently reflecting the soft light from fire. His incisors were like that of any Argenta, but that was where the similarities ended. His canines were huge, Arve reckoned each one was about the length of his hand. The bottom canines appeared almost tusk-like in appearance, jutting forwards ever slightly. The premolars were similar to that of a wolf or bear’s, jagged like a mountain almost, meanwhile the molars themselves were broad and flat, and Arve had seen him use them to crush both bone and plant alike.

As Arve continued to sketch Verdar’s teeth he was continually drawn to the giant’s canines time and time again. Gently he closed his notebook and set it aside before leaning even closer, the Slayer’s warm breath washing over him. Ever so gently, Arve reached out his hand and placed it on the Slayer’s tooth. The tusk felt strong and sturdy, yet also somewhat worn from years of use though certainly not dull. As Arve continued to study the tooth, inspecting how it had almost become dyed from blood and tubers, when the Slayer’s jaws gently closed on Arve’s hand. Arve tried to gently remove his hand from Vern’s mouth and just as he was about to free his hand a large tongue ran up his neck and face.

“AUGH! Verndar you cheeky feral bastard!”

The massive man let out a deep chuckle before scooping Arve up in his arms and rolled over onto his chest, pinning the man into a bear hug.

“Mrrph, you were awake this whole time, weren’t you.” Arve asked, but all he got in response was a contented huff from the Slayer before the giant flopped his head down on Arve’s chest, seemingly ready to actually go to sleep.

Arve sighed and pressed his forehead against Verndar’s before settling down himself for a proper nap, the deep steady hum emanating from the giant lulling the Argenta to sleep.

[raventroll80]

I don't actually know, like, anything about your oc's. Give me a primer on 'em so I can start forming silly little headcanons about them?

Thank you so much for the ask!

I have a few ocs from a couple different things so I’m gonna organize them by the thing they’re connected to. (This is going to be a really long post, sorry)

The Troll Doomguy Au

(honestly I need to think of a proper name for this lol)

Things are a little messy and all over the place time wise as I didn’t originally plan for this to become a full on fic.

Slayer (the aforementioned troll Doomguy)

Roughly 15 feet of angry troll who also has a habit of eating the demons.

Cropped his ears at some point to make them look vaguely human, almost docked his tail but chose not to after seeing some now probably extinct species of demon use their tail as a weapon.

From the events of 2016 and prior he had the Meathook on his tail but put it on his shotgun after the attachment was ripped off by a certain grudge holding Cyberdemon.

In the events of Eternal it’s been replaced with a mace and has a more limited range.

He’s pretty smart despite what most people think, it’s just that a lot of his problems can genuinely be solved with Incredible Violence.

Has a very hazy recollection of the events of Doom 1993 and anything before that is even more hazy due to him repressing those memories.

He did have a wife and kid (stepson) who he loved dearly but lost them during an “accident”

Despite all this he’s actually pretty chill!

He tends to get easily attached to people who aren’t as easily afraid of him.

Considers Valen as family despite Valen himself not really knowing.

Mim Digsby

In the events of A Beast on Mars, Mim is the last human alive in the Mars Facility.

5,4 gremlin of a person who likes to take apart machinery in their spare time.

They’re a miner and mechanic who usually works with excavation equipment, and has clearance to work with mining gloves.

Started the trend of saying thank you to VEGA whenever one of the drones did something helpful or brought supplies. (This is also what got them their mechanic training after VEGA did some light string pulling)

Has punched a foreman for trying to make people continue mining in an unstable tunnel.

Used to be in a relationship with an Elite Guard prior to their “promotion” but things didn’t really work out after, but the two are still friends.

Is on Mars as part of a “criminal rehabilitation program”. Their license expired on their way moving back to Massachusetts and got arrested after getting into a fight with some rich dude at a bar.

VEGA (my take on Vega at least)

Plant enthusiast, he thinks they’re neat. Slayer was more than happy to give him a section of the greenhouses for his own personal garden.

Didn’t like Slayer at first due to how aggressive he seemed to be towards the equipment of the facility and was worried he’d end up harming any possible survivors.

Quickly found out he truly means best for the survivors of the invasion and also feels sympathetic towards Slayer after finding out the little bits of memory he does have regarding the UAC.

He’s pretty sure if he was capable of getting headaches he’d be getting them daily from Slayer trying to do something stupid i.e trying to fist fight a demon twice his size.

Keeps a list of all the things he’s caught Slayer eating that he probably shouldn’t be.

This list includes: excessive amounts of demons, Gore Nest remains, garbage from a cafeteria, an unidentified Argenta plant, dirt, Hellgrowth, and “mystery meat”.

Derrin Willams (Troll au Intern)

Used to own rats, but they passed away prior to the invasion.

Tech support for the ARC but also just helped out wherever needed.

Liked reading about the Slayer and Argent D’Nur and found him fascinating and was genuinely ecstatic to meet him. (He really wants to see a withrin)

Still gets spooked by Slayer from time to time, but has managed to spook him back.

Surprisingly good with a gun and can at least hold his own against zombies and like a singular imp scout

(Not really a personality fact but his last name comes from my blind ass mistaking the numbers on his uniform as the word William or Willams)

There are other characters and ocs I plan to appear in the au but I haven’t gotten there and burnout is making things hard in general, oof. I’ll probably do up a bigger one of these specifically for the troll au in the future.

Stowaway Mer au

I’m doing the Mer au version of Stowaway mostly because there’s significantly more stuff for it (see nearly 30 drawings and like 6 chapters for one au). But honestly it’s pretty far removed from Doom and I might rework it into its own thing… which means redesigning nearly 30 sea demons….

Em Barbatus

5,3, Former Canadian

Ace

Loves horror movies and practical effects.

Lived with her “aunty” Nihm in an apartment in Port Murlow prior to moving into the Old Taggart house with Flynn.

Works at a bait shop and Mr. Grimmar’s Occult Shop.

Training to be a mortician at the mortuary the Mr. Silas Grimmar owns.

Owns some homemade ghost hunting equipment and occasionally mucks about old abandoned places with her friends looking for ghosts.

Occasionally helps out at the local theatre’s costume department

Has committed the third least amount of crimes out of the main cast of the mer au

Hobby of beach combing and diving for junk in Taggart Bay.

Seth (technical Seth Willams in regular Stowaway)

The token mer of the mer au lol

Looks like a mix of leopard and Port Jackson shark and is from the Indo Pacific and southern Pacific Ocean (he is very fucking lost)

Needs glasses but can’t exactly get any as he’s a fish man.

Has a fear of the open ocean and orcas and does not enjoy long travels between the reefs an kelp

Has a fascination with human technology and history and enjoys exploring shipwrecks with his siblings. Though after a bad experience with some humans he is somewhat distrustful of them.

Has no clue how the hell he ended up in the Atlantic.

Has committed the least amount of crimes… so far

Flynn Taggart

Looks intimidating but is actually pretty chill

Moved to Port Murlow following his discharge from the military for various reasons.

Has many fond memories of his visits there when his grandfather lived in it, though he still doesn’t like the basement even now that he’s older.

Starting to show signs of selective mutism and is learning sign language because of it. He also isn’t a fan of eye contact anymore after the mountain incident.

Has a picture of Daisy in his wallet and is looking into getting her certified as an emotional support animal.

Recently gotten a job on a fishing boat and already doesn’t like his boss.

He inherited the house from his now missing grandfather Keen.

Doesn’t like being alone in the house

Tied with Vega for the second most crimes committed in the au (this wasn’t intentional I realized how many of the characters have committed crimes in this like halfway through the month)

Speaking of Vega

Vega Triton

Has a degree in marine biology and is currently studying a newly discovered species of bioluminescent algae he named Vegastella scriptorseintillais

Vega is the second oldest person living in the Old Taggart house.

Used to work with Dr. Hayden and Pierce but after an accident that left many researchers including Olivia dead Vega and Samuel had a dispute which left the two very bitter with each other.

He blames himself for the aforementioned accident.

Vega moved into the old Taggart house after realizing that living on a cave connected to another cave containing hallucinogenic algae is not good for his mental and physical health.

Nihm Barbatus

Freelance security guard and one Em’s mentors.

Met Em during one of her contacts on a cargo ship that had left Canada.

Made friends with Flynn when he was briefly a freelance security guard, and was the one who told Em that Flynn was looking for roommates.

Friend of the Grimmar couple.

She also has a large extended family and plans to bring Em with her to the next family reunion.

Silas Grimmar

Port Murlow’s goth grandpa

7,3 and build like a coffin

Been happily married to his husband Hiram for many, many years.

Runs the local mortuary and an Occult shop

A jovial old man who often volunteers at the local theatre.

Graduated with a degree in mortuary science and occult studies from Miskatonic University.

Tea drinker

Hiram Grimmar

Silas’ husband and owner of the antique store across the street from Silas’ occult shop.

Has an archeology degree and is a retired archeologist.

Met Silas when his team needed to consult someone on some artifacts they had dug up.

Coffee drinker.

[raventroll80]

A Beast on Mars

Chapter 3 (Rewrite)

The Last Human on Mars

(I wasn't too happy with the original ending to this chapter so I rewrote it. Big thanks to @horseyneigh2002 for giving the new ending a read through before I posted it!)

Edit: I forgot the warnings! This chapter contains description of graphic injury, a lot of blood, and death.

Mim Digsby was a rather unremarkable person, they were just below average height with a somewhat stocky build, but they never thought it’d come in handy until they had to hide from the risen corpse of a security guard. They usually kept their hair short as they felt it was more hassle than it was worth, though they never thought they’d be grateful for it until they watched a co-worker get dragged into the vents by her hair. Mim mostly worked maintenance now, and knew the vents like the back of their hands, but they never knew that it’d ever save them from the demons that now prowled the halls of the UAC.

It had started like any other day, Mim had been scheduled to do some basic maintenance on some machinery in the morning before switching to excavation in the afternoon… that was until the screaming had started. One of the security guards had gone to investigate but seconds later he came running back firing at something howling behind him, then the something pounced on him and began to disembowel the man.

Mim and their co-workers had immediately fled the room only for another one of these…  things to jump them. The only warning they had gotten was the stench of sulfur and a flash of red light before that thing, that demon just appeared. It stood maybe six, maybe seven feet tall, its body was covered in thick yellow chitin with jagged spikes jutting out of its body. Its eyes, god its eyes…  they burned into them like argent. Mim watched as the imp gutted Samson in one swift motion, his body had dropped like a sack of hammers, his blood spilling out onto the floor. Mim could still hear his screams as the demon didn’t even wait for him to bleed out, thank god they hadn’t looked. The lockdown alarms were blaring but the doors refused to shut, something was wrong with the protocols… if the lockdown wouldn’t engage properly then there’d be nowhere for people to hide. Emerson, a technician, suggested that they go and manually engage the lockdown at the southside control room, given their lack of options everyone agreed to go. But things only got worse from there.

Mim had to lead the small group of survivors through the maintenance tunnels, during this they had passed through an observation deck where a large almost ape like monster shattered the glass. Georges and Amsbury got dragged out by the air pressure while Harris had been grabbed the massive monster. Within seconds their group of five became a band of two, Mim and Emerson had barely made it to the cargo elevator when they were jumped by yet another imp. It had managed to slash Emerson across the chest before Mim was able to blast its head apart with the shotgun she had taken from a dead guard. The demon slumped over, it’s bright red blood pooling on the floor. Mim had tried their best to stop the bleeding but it just kept pouring out. They tried convincing Emerson to come and look for a medical station, but he refused, claimed that he was fine, that it only looked worse than it actually was…

God why did they believe him…

As the elevator came to a stop the two heard the chime that accompanied an announcement over the intercom, but instead of VEGA or some other automated message it was Dr. Pierce and pit formed in their stomachs as she spoke.

“I believe in honesty, especially now, in what will be your final moments in this world. All the rumors, the human sacrifices, the Hell portal, the demons… it’s all true…”

The two gave each other a grave look before climbing the blood-soaked stairs as Dr. Pierce continued her speech.

“My brothers and sisters be thankful, you will be the first, you will have a seat along side them just as I will in what will become the new world, they create for us… starting now…” Instead of another chime indicating the broadcast was over a demonic scream blared over the intercoms.

Emerson was able to stop the broadcast from repeating before forcing the lockdown protocols to engage. The technician looked out over the Martian landscape, the blue sunrise slowly creeping over the horizon.

“If Pierce is already on their side, then how many of the others are too… if we just leave it on then some, some cultist could just swing by and turn the lockdown back off. Hel- fuck, we don’t even know if VEGA is still on our side!” Emerson said in frustration, staring down at the consol with a contemplative look.

“Then what do you think we should do…”

“You think you can shut the power off?”

“Yea, there’s a main generator not too far from here. I can use the access vents to get to it. What are you going to do?” Mim asked, not entirely sure what to make of the situation.

“I’m gonna lock VEGA out from accessing the terminal digitally. If he’s really on our side then he can come turn the power back on himself.”

Emerson initiated some sort of malware or firewall before giving Mim the go ahead and Mim jumped down into the maintenance vent. Through the dark tunnels of wires and metal Mim crawled, until they found the main generator. They logged into the access terminal and shut off the power to the Res Ops facility. Mim hoped they’d given people enough time, or that there were any people left. It was deathly quiet as the facility shifted to emergency power. Normally it wouldn’t, but with the emergency lockdown protocol in effect prior to main power shutdown the facility forces the use of the backup generators. The quiet of the facility felt crushing as Mim crawled back to the control room. Something felt off as the mechanic drew near. It was too quiet, something was missing…

“Emerson!” Mim called out as they realized that they could no longer hear the technicians ragged breathing.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit…” they muttered as they scrambled out of the vent but it was too late. Emerson was dead.

The man was slumped over, his back against the console, clothes drenched in blood. Mim took a few shaky breaths as they processed the situation. Chances where the casualties were in the thousands, and if they were being realistic… then Mim Digsby was possibly the last human left on Mars.

“God damn it Emerson… why didn’t you listen to me,” Mim pressed their forehead against Emersons before stumbling out of the control room, their body was still shaking from the shock and reality of the situation. They needed to find somewhere safe, somewhere to hide and hope there was anyone left to rescue them.

Mim didn’t know if it had been hours or days that had passed, somewhere in that time they had managed to find a chainsaw. Why was there a chainsaw on Mars? Who cares, it’s a chainsaw! Like they were just going to pass the offer of a free chainsaw in a time like this. Besides, chainsaws are great communicators when it came to the undead. Just as Mim had finished airing their grievances with a zombie they’d found in a locker room an explosion boomed from outside, causing the lockers to rattle and Mim to jolt and accidentally wedge the chainsaw deeper into the corpse. Before they could try to remove the weapon, another explosion rocked the room and demons began howling as what sounded like heavy artillery went off.

“Was it the marines? The Elite Guard?” Mim abandoned the chainsaw and climbed through an access vent to the offices above to investigate the sounds, though what they saw was far from what they had been hoping for. There, just outside the building was a behemoth of a monster clinging to the very structure they were standing in. The creature appeared to be fighting the demons outside of the locker room, though fighting was a strong word for what was happening, it was more of a bloodbath if anything. The room shook violently as another explosion rocked the cargo bay outside. The glass rattled menacingly but thankfully didn’t shatter, thank god. Mim scurried back from the window as the behemoth slaughtered the last of the demons. In their haste, Mim had knocked over a chair and alerted the massive demon. They had barely made it into the vent before the behemoth was tearing its way into the room.

Mim quietly watched as the massive creature began searching the room. Was it looking for them? God they hoped not, that thing just tore through the building like it was cardboard! Granted this wasn’t the strongest of building in the Mars facility, but the point still stood that this thing, whatever it was, would catch Mim within seconds. The mechanic watched as the creature inspected the health station in an almost curious manner. Tilting its head inquisitively, before turning it slightly as though it were listening to someone or something. Its curiosity apparently satisfied, the great beast turned around and proceeded to smash in the glass to one of the storage rooms.

“Holy shit, holy shit, I need to fucking leave” Mim hissed to themselves and they started to shimmy further into the vent. That glass was at least an inch and a half thick and that thing just shattered it like it was nothing.

Mim heard the creature walk back out to the cargo bay, catching a glimpse of it beginning to scale the wall, it’s clawed gauntlets digging into the stone. Part of them was slightly in awe of the massive beast, but overall Mim was terrified. The massive thing, looked to be nearly 16 feet tall, it could probably eat them in one bite if it wanted to. Mim shuddered at the thought, “Nope, nu-uh, nah…” The monster’s armour was complex, not too unlike that of Hayden’s Elite Guards though it was a deep green colour instead of the guards imposing red and black armour. Though Mim couldn’t shake the feeling that they’d seen it before…

A raspy hiss rattled from behind the mechanic, filling them with dread before sharp claws dug into their legs and dragged them off into the darkness of the facility. Mim was barely able to let out a scream before their head was slammed into the vent and everything went black.

As the Slayer climbed up the walls of the cargo bay, he heard a faint sound echo from below. As quick as it came it was gone, but the sound was unmistakable. It was a scream, and not just any scream; a human scream. The Slayer looked back down to the platform below, should he go look? What if they were already dead? He watched as several field drones entered the room below and fanned out. One of the drones separated from the group and hovered up to him. That familiar chime sounded in his helmet garnering an annoyed growl from the behemoth.

“I apologize for the repeated interruptions but one of the nearby cameras picked up what I believe to be a human scream. The sound originated from this sector and I wanted to know if you heard anything. The cameras have been malfunctioning, replaying audio and visuals from the start of the incident. I do not know what is causing this malfunction but it is impairing my ability to search for survivors so I will need your help in locating any potential survivors.” The Slayer huffed, clearly getting impatient with the AI.

“I do not know what your stance is on humans as a whole, but I can tell you already have a distain for the UAC. But I must ask that you please keep an eye out for any survivors.” VEGA waited for a response from the Slayer, but all he got was a soft growl from the behemoth.

VEGA left the Slayer to return to his mission, concern starting to build in his processors. Could he trust the Slayer to protect, let alone inform him of any survivors? VEGA hadn’t even been able to recover the field drone that he’d destroyed, he couldn’t even find any evidence of its existence aside from a few scraps from the outer shell… did he eat it? No, he couldn’t have. The Slayer may be a brute, but even he should know that a drone wasn’t even remotely edible. Right?

He could only hope the Slayer would be kinder to a human than he was to a machine.

The Slayer followed the elevator tracks up the chasm and into what appeared to be a mining tunnel or a cut-through point in the facility. The tunnel was long and dark, lit only by the dim string of lights that hung from the walls and ceiling. Checking his map, the Slayer confirmed that this was indeed the way forward. The giant grumbled as he walked down the cold tunnel. He was certain there was a faster route to the gore nest but VEGA was (regrettably) right. As much as he wanted to tear the UAC apart, he needed to be mindful of any potential survivors. Sure, the chances of anyone surviving this long were slim, but he didn’t want to take that risk. As he walked through the tunnel he passed by a group of corpses. Bodies both human and demon were strewn about, it appeared this group chose to make this their final stand, though it was clear the battle had no winners. Further investigation revealed that in an attempt to close off the tunnel or possibly destroy the Gore Nest ahead, the workers had loaded containers of explosives onto trolleys and carts, their lids hastily removed in a last-ditch effort to try and blow up the attacking demons.

Slayer thought about taking the explosive with him, but without the detonator they’d be harder to use. As he contemplated the explosives, the Slayer spotted movement out of the corner of his eye. Expecting a demon trying to get the drop on him, he whipped around and was about to fire at the movement, but stopped himself just short of pulling the trigger when he spotted the source of the movement.

There, slumped against the wall was a human barely clinging to life, staring at him with a fearful expression smeared across their bloodied face. Their body was heavily scarred; thick deep gashes across their stomach, their clothes torn and drenched in blood, a large chunk had been taken out of his right shoulder, their left leg had been torn to bloody ribbons while the right leg was nothing more than a bloody stump. The Slayer froze, not sure how to proceed, how the poor man was still alive was beyond him.

Slowly, the Doom Slayer approached the injured human, who quickly held up a small rectangular box, causing the behemoth to freeze. They had a detonator, if he wasn’t careful and scared the human too much then he’d bring the whole tunnel down on both of them. Carefully the Slayer his gun down and raised his hands in the air. The human gave him a suspicious look as he took his finger off the button but still refused to drop the detonator. Once again, the Slayer began to slowly approach the human, his tail slightly raised as to not let it scrape across the ground. Eventually the Slayer managed to walk up to the dying human and sat down next to him, the next few moments were oddly peaceful given the circumstances, the human had even put down the detonator and leaned his back against the wall.

The human huffed and closed his eyes, seemingly trusting the Slayer not to kill them in this moment of respite, their breath ragged and shaky. Carefully, while their eyes were closed, the Slayer wrapped his clawed hands around the injured human’s torso and pulled him close. The human in question, quickly scrambled in an attempt to grab the detonator before but all they managed to was aggravate their injuries, so instead he threw his arms over his head and braced for whatever violent end he was about to meet… but it never came.

Instead, they were placed in the lap of this strange behemoth as it removed its gloves and helmet. The creatures face looked almost human but not quite right, it-he? Stared down at the man before gently lifting their body up once more, but instead of biting his head off, the Slayer instead held him close to his chest. A soft rumbling began to emerge from deep within the behemoth.

The Doom Slayer leaned his back against the well as he felt the human slowly begin to calm down, but something felt… off. Instead of the grooved stone of the tunnel, the Slayer’s back was leaned against the cool metal of a wall, the sharp stinging scent of chemicals assaulted his nostrils. Where was he?  Mars? No, that’s not right. He wasn’t stationed on Mars, it was Phobos he got sent to… wait. If he was on Phobos, then why was he holding a miner? Miners weren’t stationed on Phobos. The Behemoth huffed, stale cave air filling his lungs, the rancid chemical smell quickly fading from his memory as he felt the human squirming under his grasp.

The Slayer quickly realized that his grip on the human had gotten tighter, hurting the poor thing. The Slayer loosened his grip and tried to give the poor man a reassuring pat with the pad of his thumb which only garnered frightened whimper. Feeling even worse for the dying human the Hellwalker tried to croak out an apology as he set the human back down in his lap, but all that came out were garbled bellows as blood began to bubble in his throat. The no-longer man quickly stopped his attempt only to realize the miner had gone still, his eyes glazed over and lifeless. The behemoths shoulders sagged and huffed as he came to the realization that the human had died.

Looking back down at his bloody hands and chestplate, down at the dark red blood from the human mixing with the bright crimson of the demons. Gently he set the still warm body down upon the cold stone of the tunnel and made a mournful sound the taste his own blood tingled in the back of his throat. As the Doom Slayer stood up, donning his helmet once more, sorrow quickly turning into anger as he remembered why he was here and that Hell was to blame for this. Checking his map, he confirmed that the Gore Nest was at the end of this godforsaken tomb, and with a vicious snarl he snatched up the crates of explosives and charged down the tunnel with blood on his lips and fury burning in his chest.

Within seconds the Hellwalker found himself at the end of the tunnel looking out into a much larger cargo bay. Across from him, the Gore Nest hung, suspended by thick sinewy cables that attached themselves to gore covered support beams. From his position, the Slayer could see the Gore Nest’s beating heart and a circle of zombies knelt around a sigil. The Unchained Predator threw the crates onto the demonic structure before lobbing a grenade towards it and firing. An explosion shook the room and the Gore Nest screamed in pain and with a running leap the Doom Slayer jumped onto it, shoving the still burning barrel of his shotgun against its putrid heart and fired.

[raventroll80]

Troll! Doomguy Halloween Special

Here’s a little one shot of an alternate first meeting between the Intern and troll!Doomguy. Also, the intern finally has a different name for the troll au, it’s Derrin!

This story contains Blood, Injury, Mild? Gore, Dead Things (decapitated demon head), syringes? I think that counts, and possible medical malpractice (Slayer’s trying ok),

This story takes place after Slayer killed the Icon of Sin, and the ARC is trying to get their bearings straight in the aftermath of the Demonic Invasion. Slayer is on the hunt for Hayden for abandoning Vega on Urdak, and him on earth.

It had been a little over a week since Derrin got left behind. He was doing pretty well actually all things considered, even if he was being stalked by the Slayer. Though it did mean he had to keep moving and couldn’t really stay in one building for more than a night, at least he didn’t have to worry about any demons getting him in the night.

The Demonic Invasion had just ended a little over two months ago when the Doom Slayer had killed the Icon of Sin. How or why the Slayer was here was beyond him, Derrin had though maybe the Slayer was here to protect them but his behavior had been far from friendly. On the reclamation teams first day in the town Derrin and his group had been chased by the Slayer after he scared off an Imp scout.

After that, things got weird, the Slayer must have found the Imps nest as there was gunfire from a nearby valley, but in the middle of the fight the earth began to shake and mountains had erupted from the east, and the sky had lit up as the aroura swirled in the sky above like a cyclone. Derrin had almost thought the Invasion had started again but as quickly as the event had started it had stopped. The sky cleared up and the earthquakes had ceased.

Things were fairly quiet after that, sure there were a few Imps and Gargoyles in the town but nothing outside of the soldier’s capabilities. Some people had thought maybe the Slayer had died during the quake, but then one night during a celebratory bonfire after the team had gotten the radio antenna up, he appeared.

Derrin was about to turn in for the night when he noticed something in the shadows, just outside the light of the fire… eyes. Eyes that towered over the buildings, eyes that reflected the light of the fire, eyes that were staring right into his own.

Derrin had froze in his seat, too afraid to move. Some primal part of his brain was telling him to run, to hide from the predator that was currently staring him down, but another part of him was still hoping the Slayer meant no harm… but now he wasn’t so sure.

It didn’t take long for Derrin’s friend Asher to notice what he was staring at; the soldier followed his gaze and was met by the same eyes in the dark. But unlike Derrin, Asher immediately jumped into action and had alerted the rest of the people around the bonfire. After that everything was a blur, people had rushed into the safehouse and the soldiers had grabbed their weapons. The Slayer had fully stepped into the light of the fire and had tossed the severed head of an Imp brute towards everyone who was still outside before stepping back into the shadows.

The commander in charge of the expedition had been inspecting the head when the Slayer started moving towards Derrin which caused Asher to open fire. The blue glow from the plasma had illuminated the Slayer revealing his bloody face through the broken visor of his helmet. The energy collided with his right arm causing the Slayer roar in pain and snarl at the group before taking off into the night, soldiers firing at the behemoth as he fled. A few soldiers, the commander included had gotten injured by the Slayer’s tail mace as it detached and collided with the group.

After that if anyone encountered the Slayer, they were met with hostility and would be chased off. It was almost impossible to try and secure the town or set up any other safehouses with the Slayer around.

Everything had come to a head when Derrin had been out with his group trying to get to the news station in the southern end of town when they encountered a small group of Imps, presumably stragglers from the nest the Slayer had slaughtered. His group had hidden to try figure out what to do next when Asher’s radio crackled to life, it was the commander, he was calling for everyone to return to base to evacuate back to the Safezone.

Asher had tried to silence the radio but it was too late, the Imps had heard them. Derrin and the other took off running, with Asher giving them cover fire. Even then the Imp were able to catch up with them and Derrin got separated from the group. He started taking random turns in hopes of shaking the demons from his trail, he could hear their screams and howls as they chased him through the streets.

Their howls turned to shrieks as the earth began to shake and a deafening roar shook the air. The Slayer had found them. With the Imps thoroughly distracted Derrin had tried his best to make it to the safehouse in time but he was on the opposite end of town and he didn’t know if he could run much longer. Derrin heard the Slayer approaching, his footsteps growing louder and louder, and he had been filled with a renewed burst of adrenalin as he ran across town.

But he was too late, the boat had left. It was already miles off the coast and there was no chance they’d be coming back for him. Derrin had stumbled into the safehouse and had barely been able to lock the door before vomiting from the exhaustion of running as much as he did. He had felt shaky and could barely stand up because he was so tired. Derrin had chosen to sleep in the raised office of the post office the safehouse had been set up in.

Since then, Derrin had been wandering the town setting up smaller safehouses where he could spend the night, all while being stalked by the Slayer. Asher and the rest of his group had managed to leave him some supplies during the evacuation, it wasn’t much though, just a radio, a few MREs, a water bottle, and a pistol. They were all left in a backpack that had been tucked away in a corner with a note attached, saying that they had tried to convince the commander to wait for him and that they’d try to get a rescue team sent for him, though Derrin doubted that’d ever happen.

Now the it was just Derrin the Slayer’s behaviour had changed significantly. He’d no longer growl or give chase, just silently follow him form a distance, watching waiting. Arguably it was worse than getting growled at, at least then he vaguely knew the Slayers intentions.

If something growls, it’s a warning, it means they’d rather not fight. But silence? Silence meant it was hunting, stalking prey, and Derrin was really starting to feel like prey.

Earlier in the week, when he was exiting an electronics shop, Derrin had rounded the corner and was greeted by the Slayer standing right in front of him. The man had almost walked right into the giant but was stopped when it stepped back…

It? when did he start calling the Slayer it?

Derrin looked up and yelped before sprinting back into the store and hiding behind the counter. Why hadn’t he heard the Slayer approaching? How long had he been out there? Was it waiting for me? Why do I keep calling him it? Derrin peeked around the corner and saw that the Slayer was now crouched down in front of the store, looking in through the window, right at him. Derrin ducked back behind the counter and waited, for what he didn’t know. Death? Massive clawed hands to tear through the building and grab him? Or perhaps the Slayer would just topple the building and leave him for the Imps… None of this happened of course, in fact all the Slayer did do was sit there, waiting.

The suspense was killing him and Derrin didn’t want to wait for something to happen and instead opted sneak out the back door instead. Derrin had learned to move quickly and quietly in order to avoid confrontations with the imps and Doom Slayer. After that Derrin would always double check his surroundings before entering a building and leave through a different way than he entered.

Things weren’t adding up, why was the Slayer’s behaviour changing so much? Back in on of Derrin’s new safehouses; the towns library, he had set up a conspiracy board of sorts. Well, he wouldn’t exactly call it a conspiracy board, it was more for tracking the movement of the Slayer and remaining Imps, as well as any other odd happenings. The board had a large map of the town in the middle with different pins to signify what was seen where, green was for Slayer sighting/encounters, red was for Imps and Gargs, and purple was for anything else he had seen that was out of the ordinary.

What was left of the Imps and Gargoyles appeared to be congregating in the old hotel, Derrin had seen them crawling about the exterior of the building. He pretty sure that was where their new nest was, though he was nowhere near equipped to deal with that.

It was harder to gauge where the Slayer actually went when he wasn’t stalking Derrin, if he ever stopped stalking him. Due to his massive size, the Slayer was able to cover a lot of ground in a short amount of time, so he had pins all over town. Though it appeared he hadn’t found the Imp nest yet, maybe if Derrin managed to lead him there, he’d deal with the rest of them?

As for other happenings, Derrin had a fair amount of the purple pins. Some were fairly tame such as rapidly growing trees; which had been reported before post Invasion. One of the pins was right next to the original safehouse at the old post office. During the Eruption two of Derrin’s group members; Baker and Westing saw two strange creatures. They described them as Imp-like, but they were also too thin and gangly and their heads were apparently far too big for them to have been an Imp. the creatures didn’t attack them, they just watched them from a distance… Derrin found that far more unsettling.

Derrin placed some new green and red pins as well as a single purple pin for a weird plant he saw earlier before hitting the sack, unaware of what tomorrow had in store for the poor intern.

Derrin woke early in the morning, just before the sun would start peeking over the mountains and fog still hung low in the town, and began making his way to a convenience store at the port hoping to find something that hadn’t spoiled yet. He had recently run out of MREs and was having trouble finding something to eat, most of the food had been looted by the reclamation team and all that was left was usually inedible or already gotten to by scavengers.

It appeared that Derrin had had a turn of luck as he was able to find several cans of beans and soup on the shelves of this little storefront. He stuffed as many cans as he could into his bag before continuing his search, further investigating also yielded a matchbox and some lighters. Before he left the convenience store, Derrin had grabbed some newspapers to use as kindling for any fires he may need to start.

Derrin was wandering towards the post office safehouse when he felt a deep feeling of dread slowly begin to creep over him, it was the same kind of dread he’s get when Imps or the Slayer were nearby. A quick glance of his surroundings yielded no signs of the Slayer… shit, it must be Imps.

Derrin ducked into an alleyway and crouched down between some dumpsters and waited, much to his horror Derrin heard movement in the alleyway with him. The stench of brimstone grew closer as Imp approached, its claws clicking against the pavement. Derrin covered his mouth and held his breath as the demon got closer in hopes it wouldn’t notice him.

The Imp came into view, it looked pretty worse for wear; it’s chitinous plating was cracked and crumbling with some parts missing completely. It also looked pretty thin too, maybe they did see an imp…

Unfortunately, Derrin’s luck had run out and the Imp spotted him. Its mouth turned into a wicked grin as a soft hiss rattled in its chest as it crept forth. Derrin’s eyes widened as he tried to crawl back, forgetting that he had voluntarily cornered himself. The Imp stood up to its full height and Derrin screwed his eyes shut as the demon prepared to gut him. Another more guttural hiss sounded from above the two and the Imps entire demeanor changed, its once sadistically gleeful grin was now one of pure hatred as it responded with its own hiss which quickly turned into a shriek as it was tackled.

Derrin opened his eyes and saw that the Imp was currently pinned down by some large creature with sickly pink-grey skin. With the Imp distracted, Derrin ran out of the alleyway and drew his pistol and shot blindly into the alley, not caring what got hit.

Both the Imp and the creature howled in pain, though the not-imp was in significantly more pain. The Imp acted first and slashed at the not-imps chest causing black oily blood to spill out, the not-imp got off the Imp and quickly disappeared down the alley. With its competition now gone, the Imp turned its full attention to Derrin once more, but this time he was prepared.

Before the Imp could react, Derrin fired into it with the pistol until started to overheat, Derrin lowered the weapon as it hissed and steamed from the cool air. The Imp was dead, its body torn apart from the onslaught of plasma. Derrin let out a shaky breath followed by a shocked laugh as the demon’s corpse slumped over. The intern continued to laugh in shock until the howling of more Imps sounded out across the town, apparently the Imps screams did not go unheard.

Shit, thought Derrin as he started running for a safehouse, not that it would do much other than delay the inevitable. Something heavy collided with Derrin, a sharp pain radiated from his side, a demonic screech rang in his ear. An Imp had pinned him down and had dug its claws into his torso, Derrin could feel the blood soaking his shirt and the imp beginning to pull, when a guttural roar erupted from down the street.

The ground shook and a deafening gunshot boomed above him and the Imp was torn off of him. It let out a shrill scream before a loud crunch silenced it, bright red blood dripped onto Derrin’s face as he regained his breath. Once the blood was cleared from his glasses, he was greeted by a far too human face staring down at him. The Slayer looked angry yet concerned, the Imps blood still covered his lips.

Derrin gasped and tried to crawl away from the giant, but his wounds were screaming at him to stop, not that he would’ve gotten far anyways. The Slayer quickly caught up to the injured human, a soft grunt escaping him as he grabbed Derrin. Derrin yelped in pain and began struggling as much as his wounds would allow but the Slayer had a firm grip around his chest.

“L-let me go, please! Th-the Imps! They’re hiding in the hotel! Just let me go, I don’t wanna die… please” Derrin choked out between sobs, the Slayer just looked at him and let out a soft rumble before changing the position he was holding the intern in.

The pressure around his chest lightened as one hand was removed and scooped up his flailing legs, the remaining hand pressed him firmly against the Slayers chest plate. Derrin struggled to get one of his arms free, but the Slayer’s grip only tightened. A deep rumbling vibrated from the giant’s chest causing Derrin to sob more.

The blood loss was starting to get to Derrin as he felt himself get more and more lightheaded before passing out. The last thing Derrin remembered was a worried sound escaping the Slayer’s throat as he picked up his pace before everything went black.

——————————————————————————

The Slayer had been stalking the intern for about a week, staying just outside his line of sight. He was good at saying out of sight when he wanted, though usually the things he stalked ended up being nothing more than a pile of gore. But not this one, no, he wasn’t hunting them, he was shadowing them. There was a group of humans in the town but the group had recently evacuated.

The one he was following had missed the boat and was left behind. He felt guilty due to his actions being responsible for the human’s evacuation in the first place. He hadn’t meant to scare them when he gave them that Imp head. He had wanted to show them he was there to protect them, to help them…

That human… the one who saw him, the one he’d been shadowing, it was the same one he had seen at the ARC complex. He was the only one who had looked at him more in awe than fear, now whenever they crossed paths the intern looked fearful. It… hurt, the one human since Mars who hadn’t been outwardly afraid of him was now begging him to not hurt them.

The intern had gotten a head start on him and was already halfway across town when he had caught up, he could smell the Imps long before he saw them. When he saw that one had pinned the human down, he flew into a blind rage. The Slayer let out a roar of fury before he fired his shotgun at a cluster of the demons scattering them, he rushed over to the one who had pinned down the intern and ripped it off him.

The Imp let out a scream before Slayer shoved it into his mouth and crushed it between his teeth, its blood was bitter and tasted like ozone, but he didn’t care all that mattered was that the human was safe… the human!

When Slayer looked down at the human, he had been trying to crawl away from him, fear was plastered across his face. His shirt was drenched in blood, too much blood… he had to act fast. Slayer picked the human up by the torso and began applying pressure to the wounds in an attempt to slow the bleeding which caused them to cry out in pain.

That was when he started crying, begging Slayer to let him go. A part of him wanted to, to let go and try to explain, but he didn’t have time. Instead, he changed the way he held the poor human into what he hoped would be a more comfortable position. Slayer used one arm to support the human’s legs while the other kept as much pressure he dared to use on the wounds. A purr began to rumble in his chest surprising himself, though that surprise quickly turned to concern as he felt the human go limp in his arm.

Slayer broke into a sprint as he glanced down at the intern and saw how pale he had gotten. When he reached the warehouses where he had made camp, Slayer set the intern down on the makeshift table he had before dumping the contents of his rucksack onto the floor.

Ammo and other bits and bobs were scattered about the floor as Slayer looked for the medical pack he had. A familiar dull blue glow caught his eye and he immediately snatched up the health kit and ripped out the injector. It was filled with the same stuff as the medical stations back on Mars, though Slayer couldn’t remember what Vega said was in it.

Slayer inserted the needle into the intern and watched the blue fluid drain from the injector. Slayer didn’t wait for the liquid to take effect and began bandaging the torso, making sure not to wrap it too tightly. Once he was mostly certain his impromptu patient wasn’t going to bleed out, he flipped open a panel on his gauntlet and flipped a switch. He hoped the transmitter hadn’t been damaged during his fight or journey.

Finally, the adrenalin had begun to wear off on Slayer and he began to feel exhausted. He removed the top half of his armour and replaced it with a tunic he had been given, it felt nice to finally take off the armour, even if it was only half of it. Slayer gently scooped up the human, who squirmed in his sleep, and lied down on the bedroll. He rested the human in the crook of his arm and cradled their body with the other, his hand cupping their head. Sleep quickly took Slayer not long after he settled, a soft rumbling purr emanating from the giant as he curled around his guest.

——————————————————————————

Derrin woke with a start, his chest ached and he still felt lightheaded from the blood loss. The room he was in was dark and he could feel warm air washing over him. Was he dead? Probably not, due to the throbbing pain in his side.

As Derrin looked around, he froze when he realized that the warm air was accompanied by loud, deep, breathing. Slowly, he turned to the source of the both the sound and air and was greeted by the face of the Slayer, only now there was no helmet between him and their face. Luckily, the Slayer appeared to be fast asleep, unaware that Derrin had woken up, unluckily for Derrin he realized he was situated within the Slayers arms.

The Slayer shifted and Derrin froze, he was pulled closer to the giant who nuzzled his head into Derrin’s shoulder. Fear was replaced with confusion when the Slayer let out a soft whine and pulled him even closer, now Derrin was right next to the Slayer’s face. He could make out each hair in his brow and every little scar that littered his face…

Speaking of his face, now that Derrin had a closer look, the Slayer appeared to have a worried look etched across it as he slept. Was he having a nightmare? Derrin wonder what the Slayer could be dreaming about to cause such a reaction. As the Slayer’s breathing picked up Derrin’s fear began to dwindle and sympathy began form.

Tentatively, Derrin reached out and placed his hand on the Slayer’s nose and gave it a gentle rub. The Slayer’s eyes snapped open and Derrin immediately froze, his heart rate picked up as he retracted his hand. The two stared at each other for some time before the Slayer gently rubbed his thumb over Derrin’s forehead, seemingly trying to return the gesture. It did marginally make Derrin feel less afraid, but he was still frightened.

Slowly Derrin drifted back to sleep, his mind still swimming as he drifted out of consciousness. He was still confused by the Slayer’s intentions, but maybe he was right, maybe the Slayer really was just trying to help…

[raventroll80]

For your Troll!Slayer.

13A Is there something that's too big/small for your character to use/do that the big guy wish they could?

@omies-odd-writing-spot

Hmmmm…

There’s a few things Slayer misses one of the mundane things is being able to comfortably read books. He can read the words on the page, but the books are often too small to hold and he has to like scrunch up to get the book close enough to read, and the position get really uncomfortable really fast.

Another is having things that fit, human buildings are small and cramped, and moving in them can be difficult, almost like an adult in one of those kids playhouses; it’s fine at first but eventually it starts to hurt a bit. He hates admitting it but sometimes he misses being in hell where at least the reason his back is hurting because he got tackled by a Barron, and not because he has to go through Human Corridor number eighty three. Even on Argent D’Nur he would still have trouble moving around in buildings because not all of of them were grandiose halls and keeps, sometimes it was smaller hallways to the baths or storerooms, or they undershot how big a hallway or tunnel would be, and he’d end up having to crouch slightly to get through.

[raventroll80]

A Beast on Mars

Chapter One: Rip and Tear

After a millennia asleep the Doom Slayer wakes to find himself in a situation all too familiar, with demons around every corner the Slayer must find out what caused this invasion and put a stop to it. Should be easy for an 18 foot troll, right?

Also thanks to @horseyneigh2002 for helping me pick a name for the fic!

The Doom Slayer had been wandering in this desolate snowstorm for longer than he could remember. Was this death? Had they finally managed to kill him? God, he hoped not. All he could see was endless white and grey swirling endlessly around him, the cold biting at him like and endless onslaught of Imps. God, he so cold.

The cold was the least of his problems though, he’d constantly catch glimpses of things out of the corner of his eyes. Sometimes it was people, sometimes it was demons, and other times it was objects. Most of the time the things he saw would get swallowed by the storm when he turned to look but the objects stayed.

Sometimes he’d recognize the things he saw, or at least he thought so. Obviously, he knew what the demons looked like, but it was the people who threw him off. Sometimes they spoke, their words garbled by the howling wind. There were a few he recognized, though he wished he didn’t. He’d try to ignore them when he could, it hurt less.

The objects however felt foreign yet familiar, he knew they were from Earth, from his old life. Rarely were they things from D’Nur. The Slayer was fairly certain they were memories, or fragments at least. When he had found control panel half buried in the snow, when he touched it the violent sensation of electricity running through him, maybe some memories where best left buried.

The Slayer had finally begun to resign himself to the endless storm, the cold seeping into his very bones, when he smelt something… he smelt smoke. Smoke and brimstone, he smelt Hell.

Following the sent snow became stone, and the cold melted away as the Slayer found himself climbing great stone steps in Kadingir. Atop the steps behind great stone doors, he found a massive sarcophagus. A voice echoed in his mind as the world around him faded into darkness.

“They are rage, brutal, without mercy. But you… You will be worse. Rip and tear, until it is done.”

The room reeked of smoke and gore; emergency lights flashed overhead, bathing the room in dim red light. The Slayer tried to sit up but something stopped him, a possessed corpse snarled to his right drawing his attention. The restraint snapped as the Slayer grabbed the zombie and crushed it in his hand, its blood staining the stone. The remaining restraint was removed with ease, finally he was free.

The Slayer rolled out of the sarcophagus and stood up; joints popped with a sickening crack alerting a small group of zombies feeding on the pile of gore that was once their coworker. The Slayer snarled at the living corpses before they too became gore as he tore into them. Now the room was quiet save for the blaring alarm, the Slayer could look around.

The room was fairly large with his sarcophagus on a raised platform in the center, its lid suspended from the ceiling by numerous mechanical arms, with more holding various tools. A lab, great. The Slayer flicked his tail in annoyance and made his way to the doors, but before he could leave something beeped overhead and a hologram began to play.

An older woman walked towards the sarcophagus which was surrounded by people knelt around it seemingly worshiping it, the Slayer snorted in annoyance. He hated when people acted like this, like he something to be worshiped. The Slayer crouched to leave when the hologram of the woman spoke.

“We have to contain this…”

The images flicked before disappearing completely. A low growl began emanating from the Slayer, what did she mean we have to contain this. The Slayer exited the room and was greeted by a familiar sight in the next, his Praetor suit. It was embedded in stone and surrounded by machines and gore, if the possessed hadn’t clued him, he was certain Hell had something to do with what was going on.

As the Slayer donned his armour hellish visions flooded his mind, a tower, a door, hellish energy being placed into an open ribcage, and finally an artifact of great power. The visions ended as he held his helmet, brushing his thumb against the familiar symbol painted above the visor.

Air hissed as the Slayer put the helmet on, it’s machinery calibrating after god knows how long of disuse. Glancing at the screen next to the slab of stone the Slayer’s suspicions were confirmed, DEMONIC INVASION IN PROGRESS it read. Gently the Slayer slid his finger across the screen, he wanted to get an idea of how bad the situation was so he could start damage control.

The scans came back incomplete. Apparently one of the arrays were down, which was preventing him form knowing how bad the situation was. “It’s Hell, everyone is probably already dead,” he thought, “even if there were survivors why would they ever trust something like you.”

 A map appeared on the screen showing the location of the offline array, it was close. Good, he thought he’d fix the array, know if he should be wary of survivors. If there weren’t, he’d kill anything that moved.

As the screen was showing him the diagnostics on the satellite the Slayer was notified of an incoming call. Surprised, the Slayer let the call come through. A deep reverberating voice came through the comms, they sounded almost robotic.

“Welcome. I’m Dr. Samuel Hayden. I’m the head of this facility.”

 “Oh,” the Slayer thought, “So, you’re the one to blame for this…”

“I we can work together and resolve this problem in a way that would benefit us both.” The man continued in that strange robotic voice.

The Slayer growled and much less gently grabbed the monitor and threw it across the room. He didn’t have time for excuses, Hell was here and demons needed to be killed. The Slayer left the room and was forced into a much smaller hallway, sure it was wide enough to fit him, but the metal catwalk beneath him creaked and groaned beneath his weight, threatening to give out at a moments notice.

The hallway was filled with crates and canisters, some of which were labeled DM1-5 Samples, the Slayer didn’t know what they contained nor was he interested in knowing. A smattering of zombies shambled about the corridor aimlessly, with the kick of his foot three went careening into the chasm below and the last was crushed as the Slayer rammed into the door.

The catwalk collapsed behind him and a massive boom shook the room he had entered. As the Slayer got his bearings straight something shrieked above him, the something skittered across the grating overhead before dropping down at the end of the hall. The Imp shrieked at the Slayer in defiance, a wicked grin crept across his face before bellowing out a roar and charging down the hall. The Imp didn’t stand a chance before it was crushed against the glass behind it which shattered as the Slayer kept charging.

More Possessed were crushed beneath his feet as the Slayer entered the room, the rich stench of gore permeated his nostrils. Looking up the Slayer was greeted to the sight of a gore nest; thick meaty webbing suspended a mass of flesh and bone, yellow pustules littered throughout the structure and a gaping maw clasped a sphere of demonic energy. The Slayer sunk his hand into the largest pustule and ripped out the gore nest’s heart, a hellish scream of pain filled the room as the nest summoned demons to it’s aid before exploding into a shower of blood and flesh.

Within seconds the room was filled with the lesser Imps, who wall screamed at the Slayer before they begun to attack. The Slayer roared once again before he began to tear though the Imps. Blood and gore were scattered across the room as the Slayer attacked, one Imp landed a shot while the Slayer was busy dismembering one of its comrades, but the Imps luck ran out as the Slayer swung his spiked tail towards it, impaling the demon instantly. The Slayer flicked the corpse off before continuing his carnage.

Another boom shook the room and a demonic roar echoed from behind the blast door. The last Imp was struggling in the Slayers grasp let out a final howl before the Slayer crushed it, another roar called out and something began slamming into the door. Still itching for a fight, the Slayer decided to give this unseen opponent a hand, and with some effort was able to pry open the blast door, only to be tackled by a much larger Imp. Ah so that’s what it was, a Brute.

The Slayer kicked off the large demon and let out yet another bellowing roar. The Brute lunged towards the Slayer who dodged out of the way causing the massive Imp to collide with the wall. Before it had time to recover the Slayer kicked the demon in the ribs before grabbing one of the many spikes protruding form its back and pulled it up. The Brute hissed at him before he punched in the face, the demon swung its arms down on the Slayer in a haymaker.

The Slayer stumbled back a few steps before the Brute jumped on top of him. While still being smaller than the Slayer the Brute was similar in size to him as a chimpanzee would be to a human with the strength to match, meaning the Brute was more capable at holding its own against an unarmed Doom Slayer.

The Brute screamed at the Slayer before it began to claw at his face trying to get the helmet off. The Slayer stabbed his tail into the Brutes side, the demon howled in pain giving him the perfect opportunity to grab it by the jaw and rip it out. The massive Imp stumbled back gurgling in agony as blood poured from its exposed throat, which the Slayer gladly tore open. The Brutes corpse fell to the ground, bright red blood pooling around it on the gray metal floor.

“Demonic presence eliminated. Lockdown disengaged.” An automated voice chimed overhead as the red emergency lights finally stopped. The door the Brute had entered from slowly opened with a mechanical groan. Behind him another blast door opened leading to another room in the lab. Curiosity got the better of him and the Slayer went to investigate.

And lucky he did as in the room he found a familiar sight. There on the wall was his beloved shotgun. Countless hours of work went into making the weapon, days of collecting resources, and many, many sleepless nights spent making sure his schematics were right, until finally it was completed. The look of fear on everyone’s face when he blew the head off the Brute, was one of the few fond memories he had of fighting the legions of Hell.

The Slayer reclaimed his shotgun and grabbed the ammo packs he had and equipped them to his belt before making his way to the elevator. Another hologram flickered to life; it was the old woman again. She had a determined scowl on her face as she spoke.

“He cannot be allowed to leave this place. He would ruin everything”

The Slayer growled as he heard this, she had something to do with this he was sure of it.

Entering the elevator, the Slayer heard Dr. Hayden’s voice crackle through the monitor on the control panel as it began to leave the lab. Hearing his voice only made the Slayer angrier.

“I’m willing to take full responsibility for the horrible events of the last 24 hours but you must understand; our interest in their world was purely for the betterment of mankind.” The Slayer glanced down at a corpse slumped against the railing of the elevator, their blood was smeared across the glass in an attempt to escape, and growled.

“Everything has clearly gotten out of hand now, yes, but it was worth the risk. I assure you-” the Dr. was cut off as the Slayer ripped out the control panel and threw it off the elevator. He unslung his shotgun from his back, and as the hydraulics of the elevator hissed to a stop, he pumped the shotgun and stepped out into the Martian landscape.

[raventroll80]

I have finished the Gore Nest redesign for my troll! Doomguy au!

One of the main inspirations for it were the pictures of what was either a vulture bee hive or a stingless be hive. I found the support structures and overall appearance of the hives fascinating.

It was also really fun drawing the gore nest, I wanted to make them much bigger due to the fact they needed to be able to somewhat hold up against a giant angry troll. I like to imagine that the pustules will sometimes pop and something like an Imp comes crawling out.

[raventroll80]

Y’know what, I’m planning on doing writing today for my troll au, maybe send some asks about it to get my brain jogging for it?

[raventroll80]

A Beast on Mars

Chapter Three: The Last Human on Mars

In this chapter we are introduced to a new character and get to see what the start of the invasion looked like from their eyes. Meanwhile, on his way to the Gore Nest, the Slayer makes a tragic mistake...

Heads up this chapter contains a lot of death and a fair amount of blood and swearing

Mim Digsby was a rather unremarkable person, they were just below average height with a somewhat stocky build, but they never thought it’d come in handy until they had to hide from the risen corpse of a security guard. They usually kept their hair short as they felt it was more hassle than it was worth, though they never thought they’d be grateful for it until they watched a co-worker get dragged into the vents by her hair. Mim mostly worked maintenance now, and knew the vents like the back of their hands, but they never knew that it’d ever save them from the demons that now prowled the halls of the UAC.

It had started like any other day, Mim had been scheduled to do some basic maintenance on some machinery in the morning before switching to excavation in the afternoon… that was until the screaming had started. One of the security guards had gone to investigate but seconds later he came running back firing at something howling behind him, then the something pounced on him and began to disembowel the man.

Mim and their co-workers had immediately fled the room only for another one of these…  things to jump them. The only warning they had gotten was the stench of sulfur and a flash of red light before that thing, that demon just appeared. It stood maybe six, maybe seven feet tall, its body was covered in thick yellow chitin with jagged spikes jutting out of its body. Its eyes, god its eyes…  they burned into them like argent. Mim watched as the imp gutted Samson in one swift motion, his body had dropped like a sack of hammers, his blood spilling out onto the floor. Mim could still hear his screams as the demon didn’t even wait for him to bleed out, thank god they hadn’t looked. The lockdown alarms were blaring but the doors refused to shut, something was wrong with the protocols… if the lockdown wouldn’t engage properly then there’d be nowhere for people to hide. Emerson, a technician, suggested that they go and manually engage the lockdown at the southside control room, given their lack of options everyone agreed to go. But things only got worse from there.

Mim had to lead the small group of survivors through the maintenance tunnels, during this they had passed through an observation deck where a large almost ape like monster shattered the glass. Georges and Amsbury got dragged out by the air pressure while Harris had been grabbed the massive monster. Within seconds their group of five became a band of two, Mim and Emerson had barely made it to the cargo elevator when they were jumped by yet another imp. It had managed to slash Emerson across the chest before Mim was able to blast its head apart with the shotgun she had taken from a dead guard. The demon slumped over, it’s bright red blood pooling on the floor. Mim had tried their best to stop the bleeding but it just kept pouring out. They tried convincing Emerson to come and look for a medical station, but he refused, claimed that he was fine, that it only looked worse than it actually was…

God why did they believe him…

As the elevator came to a stop the two heard the chime that accompanied an announcement over the intercom, but instead of VEGA or some other automated message it was Dr. Pierce and pit formed in their stomachs as she spoke.

“I believe in honesty, especially now, in what will be your final moments in this world. All the rumors, the human sacrifices, the Hell portal, the demons… it’s all true…”

The two gave each other a grave look before climbing the blood-soaked stairs as Dr. Pierce continued her speech.

“My brothers and sisters be thankful, you will be the first, you will have a seat along side them just as I will in what will become the new world, they create for us… starting now…” Instead of another chime indicating the broadcast was over a demonic scream blared over the intercoms.

Emerson was able to stop the broadcast from repeating before forcing the lockdown protocols to engage. The technician looked out over the Martian landscape, the blue sunrise slowly creeping over the horizon.

“If Pierce is already on their side, then how many of the others are too… if we just leave it on then some, some cultist could just swing by and turn the lockdown back off. Hel- fuck, we don’t even know if VEGA is still on our side!” Emerson said in frustration, staring down at the consol with a contemplative look.

“Then what do you think we should do…”

“You think you can shut the power off?”

“Yea, there’s a main generator not too far from here. I can use the access vents to get to it. What are you going to do?” Mim asked, not entirely sure what to make of the situation.

“I’m gonna lock VEGA out from accessing the terminal digitally. If he’s really on our side then he can come turn the power back on himself.”

Emerson initiated some sort of malware or firewall before giving Mim the go ahead and Mim jumped down into the maintenance vent. Through the dark tunnels of wires and metal Mim crawled, until they found the main generator. They logged into the access terminal and shut off the power to the Res Ops facility. Mim hoped they’d given people enough time, or that there were any people left. It was deathly quiet as the facility shifted to emergency power. Normally it wouldn’t, but with the emergency lockdown protocol in effect prior to main power shutdown the facility forces the use of the backup generators. The quiet of the facility felt crushing as Mim crawled back to the control room. Something felt off as the mechanic drew near. It was too quiet, something was missing…

“Emerson!” Mim called out as they realized that they could no longer hear the technicians ragged breathing.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit…” they muttered as they scrambled out of the vent but it was too late. Emerson was dead.

The man was slumped over, his back against the console, clothes drenched in blood. Mim took a few shaky breaths as they processed the situation. Chances where the casualties were in the thousands, and if they were being realistic… then Mim Digsby was possibly the last human left on Mars.

“God damn it Emerson… why didn’t you listen to me,” Mim pressed their forehead against Emersons before stumbling out of the control room, their body was still shaking from the shock and reality of the situation. They needed to find somewhere safe, somewhere to hide and hope there was anyone left to rescue them.

Mim didn’t know if it had been hours or days that had passed, somewhere in that time they had managed to find a chainsaw. Why was there a chainsaw on Mars? Who cares, it’s a chainsaw! Like they were just going to pass the offer of a free chainsaw in a time like this. Besides, chainsaws are great communicators when it came to the undead. Just as Mim had finished airing their grievances with a zombie they’d found in a locker room an explosion boomed from outside, causing the lockers to rattle and Mim to jolt and accidentally wedge the chainsaw deeper into the corpse. Before they could try to remove the weapon, another explosion rocked the room and demons began howling as what sounded like heavy artillery went off.

“Was it the marines? The Elite Guard?” Mim abandoned the chainsaw and climbed through an access vent to the offices above to investigate the sounds, though what they saw was far from what they had been hoping for. There, just outside the building was a behemoth of a monster clinging to the very structure they were standing in. The creature appeared to be fighting the demons outside of the locker room, though fighting was a strong word for what was happening, it was more of a bloodbath if anything. The room shook violently as another explosion rocked the cargo bay outside. The glass rattled menacingly but thankfully didn’t shatter, thank god. Mim scurried back from the window as the behemoth slaughtered the last of the demons. In their haste, Mim had knocked over a chair and alerted the massive demon. They had barely made it into the vent before the behemoth was tearing its way into the room.

Mim quietly watched as the massive creature began searching the room. Was it looking for them? God they hoped not, that thing just tore through the building like it was cardboard! Granted this wasn’t the strongest of building in the Mars facility, but the point still stood that this thing, whatever it was, would catch Mim within seconds. The mechanic watched as the creature inspected the health station in an almost curious manner. Tilting its head inquisitively, before turning it slightly as though it were listening to someone or something. Its curiosity apparently satisfied, the great beast turned around and proceeded to smash in the glass to one of the storage rooms.

“Holy shit, holy shit, I need to fucking leave” Mim hissed to themselves and they started to shimmy further into the vent. That glass was at least an inch and a half thick and that thing just shattered it like it was nothing.

Mim heard the creature walk back out to the cargo bay, catching a glimpse of it beginning to scale the wall, it’s clawed gauntlets digging into the stone. Part of them was slightly in awe of the massive beast, but overall Mim was terrified. The massive thing, looked to be nearly 16 feet tall, it could probably eat them in one bite if it wanted to. Mim shuddered at the thought, “Nope, nu-uh, nah…” The monster’s armour was complex, not too unlike that of Hayden’s Elite Guards though it was a deep green colour instead of the guards imposing red and black armour. Though Mim couldn’t shake the feeling that they’d seen it before…

A raspy hiss rattled from behind the mechanic, filling them with dread before sharp claws dug into their legs and dragged them off into the darkness of the facility. Mim was barely able to let out a scream before their head was slammed into the vent and everything went black.

As the Slayer climbed up the walls of the cargo bay, he heard a faint sound echo from below. As quick as it came it was gone, but the sound was unmistakable. It was a scream, and not just any scream; a human scream. The Slayer looked back down to the platform below, should he go look? What if they were already dead? He watched as several field drones entered the room below and fanned out. One of the drones separated from the group and hovered up to him. That familiar chime sounded in his helmet garnering an annoyed growl from the behemoth.

“I apologize for the repeated interruptions but one of the nearby cameras picked up what I believe to be a human scream. The sound originated from this sector and I wanted to know if you heard anything. The cameras have been malfunctioning, replaying audio and visuals from the start of the incident. I do not know what is causing this malfunction but it is impairing my ability to search for survivors so I will need your help in locating any potential survivors.” The Slayer huffed, clearly getting impatient with the AI.

“I do not know what your stance is on humans as a whole, but I can tell you already have a distain for the UAC. But I must ask that you please keep an eye out for any survivors.” VEGA waited for a response from the Slayer, but all he got was a soft growl from the behemoth.

VEGA left the Slayer to return to his mission, concern starting to build in his processors. Could he trust the Slayer to protect, let alone inform him of any survivors? VEGA hadn’t even been able to recover the field drone that he’d destroyed, he couldn’t even find any evidence of its existence aside from a few scraps from the outer shell… did he eat it? No, he couldn’t have. The Slayer may be a brute, but even he should know that a drone wasn’t even remotely edible. Right?

He could only hope the Slayer would be kinder to a human than he was to a machine.

The Slayer followed the elevator tracks up the chasm and into what appeared to be a mining tunnel or a cut-through point in the facility. The tunnel was long and dark, lit only by the dim string of lights that hung from the walls and ceiling. Checking his map, the Slayer confirmed that this was indeed the way forward. The giant grumbled as he walked down the cold tunnel. He was certain there was a faster route to the gore nest but VEGA was (regrettably) right. As much as he wanted to tear the UAC apart, he needed to be mindful of any potential survivors. Sure, the chances of anyone surviving this long were slim, but he didn’t want to take that risk. As he walked through the tunnel he passed by a group of corpses. Bodies both human and demon were strewn about, it appeared this group chose to make this their final stand, though it was clear the battle had no winners. Further investigation revealed that in an attempt to close off the tunnel or possibly destroy the Gore Nest ahead, the workers had loaded containers of explosives onto trolleys and carts, their lids hastily removed in a last-ditch effort to try and blow up the attacking demons.

Slayer thought about taking the explosive with him, but without the detonator they’d be harder to use. As he contemplated the explosives, the Slayer spotted movement out of the corner of his eye. Expecting a demon trying to get the drop on him, he whipped around and fired at the wall, but to his horror he watched as some of the pellets tore through the shoulder and upper arm of a human who had seemingly regained consciousness. The Slayer’s heart dropped as he watched the human fell over writhing in pain. Dropping his gun, the Slayer rushed over to the injured human who immediately threw their hands over their head in terror, causing the giant to freeze.

What should he do? There was no way he could make it back to that health station without hurting the human further, even then their chances of survival were essentially zero. Hell, it was nothing more than cruel luck that the blast hadn’t killed the poor man. There was nothing he could do except to try and to give whatever comfort a monster like him could offer…

The Slayer removed his gauntlets and helmet before reaching towards the dying human once more, and again the human flinched as massive clawed hands wrapped around their body and pulled them towards the towering beast. The Slayer tried his best not to hurt the poor thing further, but the human still writhed in pain as he was brought closer to the Unchained Predator. The Slayer softly tried to shush the human but it did little to comfort either of them. It had been centuries since he’d had to comfort something, did he even remember to mourn them?

Briefly the giant considered trying to give the human a hug but chose not to as he was certain the person would only see it as him trying to crush their tired bones. So instead, he opted to gently rub their back with the pad of his thumb, being careful not to touch or aggravate their wounds any further. It was then when the worker looked up at him, bleary eyed and confused, though he wished they hadn’t. He couldn’t stand the guilt. Slayer tried to croak out an apology, but all that came out were garbled bellows before he started to taste blood. He went to try again but stopped when he felt the humans body go limp and watched their eyes gloss over.

The Slayer sighed as he laid the lifeless body back on the ground and put his helmet back on, the fresh blood smearing over old blood and dried gore. The Slayer looked around himself once more as he took in the fact that the last human on Mars just died in his hands, and he was the one to blame. Sorrow quickly turned to anger as he remembered why he was here and that Hell was to blame for this. Checking his map, he confirmed that the Gore Nest was at the end of this godforsaken tomb, and with a vicious snarl he snatched up the crates of explosives and charged down the tunnel with blood on his lips and fury burning in his chest.

Within seconds the Hellwalker found himself at the end of the tunnel looking out into a much larger cargo bay. Across from him, the Gore Nest hung, suspended by thick sinewy cables that attached themselves to gore covered support beams. From his position, the Slayer could see the Gore Nest’s beating heart and a circle of zombies knelt around a sigil. The Unchained Predator threw the crates onto the demonic structure before lobbing a grenade towards it and firing. An explosion shook the room and the Gore Nest screamed in pain and with a running leap the Doom Slayer jumped onto it, shoving the still burning barrel of his shotgun against its putrid heart and fired.