DOOM SAGA I - I'll be home tomorrow

Big scary man

Jekkad

DAY 152

With only three wide steps he breached the distance between them, reaching out for her. Instinctively she raised her arms and fear struck her heart, her eyes pressed shut as she was waiting for an impact on her head. But it never came. 
As she peeked she saw his hand just centimetres away from her face. Waiting. Her eyes darted from his hand to his face, looking for a hint of his intent before lowering her arms. She swayed a little as her right leg slowly grew tired of carrying the weight.

She was indeed human. Very young too. Definitely not a soldier of any kind. Her clothes looked ragged and worn and she was covered in mud and blood and sweat. He noticed that she was not putting any weight on her left leg, her foot barely touching the ground. She was hurt and exhausted. Had a new war begun on Earth and was she the only one that had survived the journey to find him? How could she have broken the seal without the Seraphs?
She was afraid of him. He waited for her to relax before he cupped her cheek and let his thumb travel around the rainbow-coloured bruises that covered a big portion of her left face. He felt her shaking, fighting the urge to escape him. These were not from a normal fight. Somebody had done that to her. More than once in the last weeks, yellow, green and fresh purple mixing. She was not afraid of him. She was afraid of them. Hot anger rose in him. He let go of her.
"Uh...Uhm...", she began.
"I-I...brought you something-", she stuttered nervously. She hopped a few feet towards a bag that lay further away. She braced herself against the wall to not fall over and a few moments later she handed clothes to him. He had followed her, still confused.

The priest had been right, he was a scary man. But even harder was to keep her eyes from wandering. She hoped he didn't see her flush under all of the dirt and blood. He looked at the clothes she was holding and then at her.
"Uh... I couldn't carry your armour... I mean, I don't know where your armour is..."
Her mouth felt weird and her accent was coming through wider than usual. His presence made her mind fuzzy. He grabbed the pants first and the black t-shirt after that. The pair of old sneakers she had found in his room was last. He eyed them for a moment before putting them on. Through all this, he was never taking his gaze off her for long. Or make a sound. It made her spine tingle.
As he was dressed he just stood in front of her, flanking her between the wall and him. His massive shadow fell over her as he cocked his head. His eyes scrutinized her like he would find every answer on her outside.
Then he stopped. In one move he threw her bag into the end of the sarcophagus and slung his arm around her, she squealed involuntarily. He laid her into it without hurting her before climbing in on top. She was way too baffled to even think a word. He changed the position easily without her doing anything, and she was now resting her head on his chest. He pulled the top back on and managed to fit it back perfectly. It was now pitch black. The only thing she could hear was her quickened breath and his heart pounding calmy below her. She felt one of his hands rest on her back and one feeling the stone of the top. Voices rose outside, coming closer to them. Had he actually heard them from so far away?
She couldn't see her own fingers beside her face that were bit by bit clawing stronger into his chest. It was tight in there, the lid was not even three fingers away from her butt. Her leg was hurting more by the second and she had to hold her breath many times to not shout and groan. It had probably only been minutes and yet... The pain, the darkness, the voices wandering around them, and nowhere to escape. She pressed her face into him, looking for comfort in his warmth and his calm breath. He gently laid his hand on her head and kept it there, his palm covering her ear made his bloodstream even louder. With every beat, her head felt emptier and her body heavier.
So this was the great Slayer, defeater of Evil and the Gods alike, a king of the Argenta. But he smelled human. Not bad or anything, especially for someone who had been sleeping in a box for decades. His unruffled breath flowed over her head, her body heaving with it each time and her limbs loosened.
She moved as she felt the cold, her shoulder and head rubbing against the stone under her as she was lying on her right side. Her eyes were sticky and needed a second to adjust to the light. She pushed herself up when she realized she was lying in the sarcophagus, the top was off. She had fallen asleep. On top of the Slayer.
"Oh, no..." she mouthed embarrassed. This was going to be the longest way home ever. Her jacket had been covering her, though it had been in her bag before. She scrambled over the edge, wincing as she hit her knee, to where the slayer was sitting against the outside right below her. He looked up to her, no expression on his face, and got up. The bag has sat beside him, closed up again. She quickly put her jacket back on, the Slayer holding out his hand for her. Compared to him she moved in slow-motion. She now felt the drag that the last couple of days had been. As soon as her feet touched the ground again he handed her the bag and walked away to a wall. She followed him and his gaze up to the never-ending ceiling. A hole was visible, a duct of some kind, big enough to comfortably fit in it.
"But how-aah?!"
He threw her over his shoulder and jumped, the floor suddenly becoming nothing more than a faraway view. He held onto the tendon-looking bars that covered it sparsely and braced his feet into the wall. The sneakers didn't give him as much grip as he was used to. After a moment he grunted. And grunted again but louder and shrugged the shoulder she was hanging off. With shaking arms, she climbed and crawled and she grabbed onto one of the bars, pushed into his belly and shoulder to manage her body into the duct. She robbed further and accidentally hit her leg on her way in, again. She cried out and rolled to the side pulling her legs fully inside to make way. Cold sweat was now shining on her forehead. She leaned her back against the round wall of the tunnel, suddenly realizing that her jeans were much tighter than before. Her makeshift belt was open but her hip was still squeezed inside. She moaned as sickness rose in her mind. He tugged on her legs and laid her down flat while she hadn't even noticed his close up presence. Both of his hands felt around her leg tentatively, starting at her ankle, and he didn't have to go far to get a reaction. He went on, up to the point where her leg joined her hip. He was so close to her again.

Her leg was throbbing painfully and she hissed and moaned continuously, her sight fading in and out, her body squirming under his touch. With quick fingers, he got hold of the jeans' button. A second later it was open, the zipper pulled apart in ease, and before she could even react, fright in her eyes, she felt the relief as the pressure was lifted. She inhaled sharply. What had she thought he would do? 
He pulled the waistband, including her underwear, down on the side, stopping just above her hairline. He tried his best to be gentle, but it was impossible to not hurt her as the nerves in her skin were burning and oversensitive. Still, she blushed as he examined the discoloured patches that stretched down her side, her hip poking out clearly. The bone might be fractured and her knee had some torn ligaments for sure. He put the pants back in place but left them open.  He grabbed her under the arms and pulled her up again. There was no way of carrying her without putting additional pressure on her hip or leg. All he could do was support her weight, but she wasn't even able to lay her arm around his shoulders since she was that much smaller than him. Probably only five feet tall if he measured right. He wondered how long they would manage before she wasn't able to go on. He would be a lot faster without her. But that was not an option. Not here, not now, not her.