The DOOM Chronicles

Chapter 14: The Crusher

"Are you sure you are going to be okay?" Bidwell asked as they moved through yet another back maintenance area.

"Yeah, I'll be fine. Don't worry, I'm not going to go postal on anyone or anything. Just them. Just the fucking demons," Jack replied. "I know it isn't normally the best idea to snap like that, but, to be completely honest, in my experiences so far on Phobos and Deimos, and in Hell, it was seriously an asset. In controlled bursts."

"I suppose you have a valid point," Bidwell murmured.

"Yeah, this situation is so damn fucked that I guess it makes sense to get crazy pissed," Cortez agreed. He laughed bitterly. "Goddamn, I always thought the world was going to send itself to hell with all the bullshit we pulled as a species, but...I didn't figure so literally."

"We're not fucked yet," Jack said, though he didn't have much else in the form of encouragement to offer. In all honesty, whenever he lapsed into a damned blood rage like that it still freaked him out. He stopped as they arrived at the door they needed to get to, and he hesitated to actually open it, his finger lingering over the button.

"What's wrong?" Cortez asked.

"You don't feel that?" Jack murmured.

"I don't feel anything," Bidwell said.

"I..." Cortez hesitated. Jack waited. "Yeah...kinda like a bad vibe? Maybe a little nauseating? What is that?" he asked.

"I'm not sure, but it can't be anything good. I think..." He had an idea, but he didn't like it and pushed it away, hoping he was wrong. "I'm not sure, but we should keep going." He hit the button. The door opened up onto a sharply ascending stairwell. The trio began making their way up the stairs, weapons at ready, prepared for whatever hellspawn might be waiting for them at the top. After that last attack, he was now more paranoid than ever. He hadn't even seen those damned wall panels, and he was still trying to figure out why they existed. Were they part of Haydenfield? Or were they somehow created by the demons and their twisted presence?

Not to mention, it felt too much like a trap. What the hell did that even mean? Did the demons somehow gain the knowledge that Jack and the others had to specifically go to that particular location and make that repair, and so they laid in wait? If so, how did they gain that knowledge? Or was it just a coincidence? Were they just waiting there for someone to come by? Jack shook off these frustrating and probably unanswerable, (for him at least), questions as they began to approach the apex of this metallic stairwell.

Cortez hit the door while he and Bidwell aimed their guns. The silver door at the top slid open and revealed a short entry area and, beyond that, a dimly lit room where only a row of metallic columns was visible. They had tubes running through them and an eerie blue substance flowed within them. Jack caught movement beyond the columns, where it was darker.

"Movement," he murmured.

"Saw it," Bidwell muttered.

Cortez covered the rear, going back down several steps to get out of the way, while he and Bidwell took up positions on either side of the door. The Taskmaster, thankfully, came with a goddamned flashlight. He activated it and studied the spots between the dark metal columns. A few seconds passed. Suddenly, an undead face with dark eyes and pallid skin inside of a green helmet with a shattered faceplate appeared.

The undead Marine roared and began firing at them with a pistol.

"Fuck!" Jack snapped, putting a three-round burst right into the thing's face. Old blood sprayed from the ruined forehead as the bullets connected and the body went limp, but all that did was stir up the hornet's nest. Suddenly every space between the columns was alive with undead activity. A half-dozen more zombies, all of them either Marines or local security, all of them armed, appeared and opened fire.