The DOOM Chronicles

Chapter 31: Unholy Cathedral

This time, when Jack appeared on the teleport pad and was already moving, shotgun in hand, he realized that he was alone. Only no, that wasn't true. He heard a roar to his right and when he spun, shotgun raised, he screamed and stumbled back as he squeezed the trigger.

The barrel was nearly touching the demented face of a Demon.

The shell he accidentally fired off went right between its glowing golden eyes and splattered its hot, foul-smelling blood all over his visor and armor. Stumbling, he tripped and fell onto his ass, grunted as he went onto his back. And screamed again. Through the bloody film that covered his visor, he could see the bright yellow shape of a Lost Soul dive-bombing straight for him. He rolled out of the way as it hiss-roared at him.

It smacked into the stone floor with a loud clacking sound and rebounded, heading up into the air again. Jack tracked it with the shotgun, now lying on his back again, and squeezed the trigger. The first blast missed, but the second got it, blowing it to pieces and dust. He scrambled to his feet, looking around for any more assholes that might want a piece of him, but no, he was alone. And then he realized that he truly was alone.

There had been no other flashes of light, no one else stepped off the teleporter pad. What had happened? What had gone wrong? Had something attacked them right after he'd gone through? Jack almost immediately stepped back onto the teleporter pad, but stopped himself. The radio. How far was the range? There was no way to tell.

He turned it on. "This is Jack to anyone, do you copy? Over." He paused, waited, listening. Nothing. He repeated his message twice more before growling in frustration. Looking around again, to make sure he was still alone, he decided he would go back through and double-check. But as he stepped onto the pad...nothing happened.

"Shit...it's one-way," he whispered, stamping his foot on it a few times. Sighing in frustration and misery, he stepped away from the inert plate of red metal and looked around once more, paying closer attention to his surroundings. He'd come into some kind of ingress room, what might very well have been the entryway into the Unholy Cathedral. It sure looked unholy. The walls were made of that painfully familiar slate gray stonework, the floor made of darker gray stone, but the ceiling was open. There was no ceiling.

Nothing but that roiling bloody sky.

He was in a long, open room. The back was just flat wall, but ahead of him were a few broad, short alcoves, each terminating in a wide wooden door. And above each door...

"God," Jack whispered.

There were more of the nameless dead. The UAC personnel, Space Marines, poor bastards who probably had no idea what the hell was going on. They were crucified, upside down, hanging from the walls over the doorways.

At least none of them were still alive.

Jack mentally reviewed his situation as he set off towards one of the doors. His boots echoed, the sound lonely, as he hurried off for the exit. An intense wave of loneliness, fear, and apprehension had settled in heavily. He hadn't been alone for awhile, but, more importantly than that, he had no idea where his allies were.

Where Jennifer was.

He had to find her as fast as possible. He hit the door and found a big red button next to it. Without really thinking about it, he hit it. As the door slid open, he thought about his ammo. His SMG was dead, his plasma rifle was dead. He had that one frag grenade, four magazines for his pistol, (fuck, he didn't want to fall back on that thing, it felt useless against the hordes of hell), and maybe a full load for his shotgun.

And that was it.

At least he had his armor.

As the door opened up, he focused up. Had to get through this, just keep going, just keep pushing. Off to his left, he saw a pair of Demons stomping around, and Imps farther on. Nothing to the right at least. Jack shouldered the shotgun and blew away a solid chunk of a Demon's big, ugly face in a spray of pulpy gore, spraying blood all over the other, which seemed to send it into a frenzy. This garnered the attention of the Imps, who began throwing fireballs. One of them slapped the Demon in the back of the head before it had made it two steps, and the thing roared furiously and spun around, then began marching off.