{"sf1_id":710818,"sf2_id":null,"title":"Doom: Keen Absolution","author":"diosoth","words":12319,"posted_at":"2014-05-28T19:24:00.000Z","tags":["Demon","Doom","Fanfiction","Hell","Male","Violence (Not In Yiff)","War"],"url":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/710818-doom-keen-absolution","original_url":"https://sofurry.com/view/710818","image_url":"https://www.sofurryfiles.com/std/thumb?page=710818\u0026ext=.jpg","description":"Set during the events of Doom II, with some elements of Wolfenstein 3D and Commander Keen in the backstory. During Hell's invasion of Earth, the lone survivor of the Phobos continues to challenge the demonic forces, moving slowly but surely into the heart of the invading forces. How does the journal of an ancestor factor into what's happening now?","content":"1996  \n  \n  \n\"I just watched a planet burn.\"  \n  \nThe pencil scribbled in the notebook. \"Most kids my age think about   \nbaseball, video games, some of them maybe GIRLS. I've always thought  \nabout quantum mechanics, wormhole theory, and other ideas that kids  \nthink are boring.   \n  \nMost kids aren't as smart as I am and I just found out that my   \ngrandfather ended the second World War by himself. I built a rocketship  \nto Mars in my backyard.  \n  \nHow did the planet burn? Imagine a rubber band rolling over a baseball.  \nThat's what the shockwave looked like from my window. It had to be worse  \non the surface.   \n  \nHe's gone. I wanted to take him into custody and return him to his family.  \nI don't know, how do you tell someone that their child is dead?  \n  \nHow do you tell someone that their kid died on another planet?  \n  \nI can't. No one would believe me, I'm a kid. I'll write it down. Maybe  \nsomeone will understand one day.\"  \n  \n----------------------------------------------------  \n  \n  \nThruster speed to the surface of Mars slowed as the forward burners  \nengaged. He didn't want to land too hard. The last time was a mess, but his  \nnew ship was much better.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;The radar showed the blip he'd been after. \"He's there...\" Mortimer  \nMcMire's black rocket had landed only hours ago. Whatever Billy's old  \nenemy was doing, it wasn't good. When was it? How many times had Morty  \ntried something? First a planet, then the galaxy, then sights set on the  \nuniverse itself.  \n  \nMost people would discount the evil desires of a child to be simple wishes.  \nBilly Blaze knew better. Few others knew how evil the boy really was, what  \nvile ideas brewed within that brain. Murder. Mortimer McMire wanted to   \nmurder people.  \n  \nTouching onto the red surface, grabbing his helmet and pistol, pogo stick  \nin hand, he breathed in the Martian air as the hatch opened. They were far  \nfrom the developed section, near mountains. Commander Keen had come back to  \nMars and whatever was in those mountains, he had to find out.   \n  \nHopping onto the stick, jumping through the air, speed was paramount.  \nRacing along the planet's surface, minutes paced quickly as he neared  \nthe caves. \"Holy...\" Remains of explosive materials decorated the rocks.  \nThe blast marks were fresh. \"I think I found him,\" Keen mumbled, strapping  \nthe pogo stick to his back and venturing within, laser blaster ready.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;Within, sights unlike no other he had seen anywhere. The green stone, carved  \nwith faces of some unknown horror, formed some sort of temple within the   \nmountain. Flaming columns burned bright, red and blue, some unnatural form   \nof combustion. Taking readings with his wrist monitor, they were   \ninconclusive. 'I'll have to study them later...'  \n  \nFurther within the quiet halls, a heavy wooden door had been pushed open.  \nFresh scratches in the floor told it had been recent. Pushing further on,  \nBlaze saw his nemesis, kneeling before a massive statue. \"McMire!\"  \n  \n\"Keen,\" the voice responded. \"Can't I simply enjoy some time off without  \nyou following?\"  \n  \nHe said, \"you don't take time off! You don't think I'm THAT dumb?\"  \n  \n\"One point, no...\" Mortimer was smarter, true, but only by a fraction.  \n\"Beat it!\"  \n  \nAiming at the boy, Keen shouted, \"come on, you're going home!\"  \n  \n\"As IF,\" Morty screamed, beginning some ancient chant. \"The power within  \nshall give me the means to do as I want! You can't stop this!\"  \n  \nTaking his shot, the laser beam bounded away, deflected like dust in the  \nwind. \"Hey... gotta think of something else!\"  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;\"Too late! I can feel it!\" His chants lit the room, flames burning hotter  \nas the face of the horned demon shook. \"I- I will.... no... HELP ME!\"  \n  \nAir became hotter, scalding. \"Hold on I- OW!\" As much as Billy Blaze  \nwished to run in and grab his enemy, the room was too heated. They would  \nboth die. \"No... AW!\" A rescue attempt would be futile. Leaving Morty  \nbehind, not a hero's way, but he had to run. Taking to his pogo stick,  \nbouncing faster, out of the caves, the glow from behind seemed brighter,  \nas if it were going to rip the mountains apart. Brighter and hotter,  \nexpanding faster, it was a race to his ship. Hopping in and hitting the  \nengines, the boy wondered if it was in time.  \n  \nFinally. Engaging thrusters, the ship took off, into the air, clearing  \norbit as the energy wave blew, rolling over the surface of Mars. He  \nwatched helplessly as everyone and everything burned to ash. Now, if   \nmore true than ever, Mars was a dead world.  \n  \nEasing back into his command chair, a sudden horror overtook the child.  \n  \n----------------------------------------------------  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;  \nWaking up within a massive chamber, Mortimer McMire's body ached. \"I'm not  \ndead! I'm not dead! Take that, Keen!\"  \n  \n\"You are, quite unfortunately, wrong...\"  \n  \nThe voice had come from nowhere, it seemed. However, the gigantic skull,  \nsat within a steep wall, was far too alike the idol in the temple.  \n  \n\"What do you mean?\" he asked, feeling a sudden sense of fear.  \n  \nThe voice answered, \"you were killed. This is Hell. I am Baphomet, ruler  \nof this place.\"  \n  \n\"HELL? NO!\" Dropping to his knees, defeated, McMire felt like crying, a  \nrare feeling for the psychopathic boy.  \n  \n\"Do not worry,\" Baphomet replied, \"you shall not be tormented. You have  \na quality I need. The intelligence to gather my forces, strengthen them,  \nand provide means of an invasion of Earth.\"  \n  \nSmiling now, teeth showing in the ugly light, \"now you're talkin'. I'm  \nin!\"  \n  \n\"Very well...\" A force ripped through Morty's body, painful and powerful,  \nhis face twisting and turning, skull fractured open, body expanding.  \nThe sense of this new form took some time to recognize but it was  \ngreat. Four legs, ending in sharp claws, two hands, and a brain that   \nformed most of it's physique. New knowledge filled the ganglions and  \nnerves, knowledge far beyond the living.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;No longer a child, matured in seconds, the demon brain said, \"we have  \nmuch work to do.\"  \n  \n----------------------------------------------------  \n  \n  \n2003  \n  \n  \n\"Mind if I smoke?\"  \n  \n\"No. Mister Blascowicz, about this entry in your journal...\" The man in   \nblack felt no desire to keep secrets. \"We know they were not the work of  \na child's mind. You did, in fact, visit other planets.\"  \n  \nTaking a quick puff, the young man gave him a solid look. \"Good for you.  \nI repair televisions now.\"  \n  \n\"Of course you do. And why is that? Might it be because your genius ended  \nin such failure?\"  \n  \nBilly Blaze resisted the urge to take a swing. Not out of restraint, but  \nhe knew damn well that the room would be filled with armed men if he  \ndid anything stupid. And someone of his intelligence was not expected to  \ndo stupid things.  \n  \n\"NASA withheld the truth from the citizens, the truth of Mars, the truth of  \na civilization. But that changed almost a decade ago. We saw what appeared  \nto be the surface burning away. Tell me.\"  \n  \n\"Fine.\" Smashing out the cigarette, Billy explained, \"Mortimer McMire  \nwasn't a child. He was pure evil. He'd have killed us all given time.\"  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;\"Go on...\"  \n  \n\"I don't know really what happened on Mars but those things I saw, those  \nfaces in the rock...\" Yawning, he recalled, \"they weren't anything native  \nto Mars. They weren't... Mars didn't burn. I think Morty found a gateway  \nto Hell itself. That's what happened. Hellfire.\" Ripping several pages  \nfree, notes and drawings, Bill pushed them across the table. \"These are  \nyours now. Don't forget what it means.\"  \n  \nThe man said, \"and what does it mean?\"  \n  \n\"Mortimer McMire... he'll come back. If that really was Hell, he's met   \nthe devil. As I said, he wasn't a boy.\"  \n  \n\"He was pure evil.\" Tucking the papers away safely, the man from NASA  \nsaid, \"I hope, for all of us, sir, that you are very wrong.\"  \n  \n-------------------------------------------------------------  \n  \n  \n2071  \n  \n  \nIt was this... or nothing. A quick check of his pockets revealed three  \npistol clips, six shotgun shells and a spare battery for the plasma gun.  \nPossibly enough to clear the warehouse, but if the stocks were spent,  \nthen he'd waste the last of his lifeline for nothing.  \n  \nSo be it.  \n  \nThe plasma gun was clipped securely to his back, a double-barreled  \nshotgun slung from the hip and pistol holstered. Drawing the combat  \nknife, the door pushed open. He saw it, hoping it didn't see him. The  \nbrown creature, spikes shining in the dim light, was focused on a   \nlunch box, having torn the lid open to digest whatever rotting remnants   \nof food still remained.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;Checking the plasma gun, he saw a low charge. The battery was  \nspent, perhaps enough left to fire off a single pulse. It would slow   \nhim down. Gently, it was placed on the floor, making no noise.  \n  \nStepping easy, careful to avoid sound, Marine training in full effect,  \nhe forced the knife up, trough the back of the neck, into the monster's  \nbrain. Instantly fatal, incredibly silent. He only hoped the sound of   \nthe body hitting the floor didn't attract any unwanted attention.  \n  \nFlynn Taggart. Corporal in the United States Marine Corps. Court  \nMartial pending with a career uncertain. Perhaps not anymore. The  \ngovernment of his country was gone. His military branch now an idea  \nrather than a recognized reality. Hell had come to Earth and had seen  \nan end to reality. He was certain that at least half of the planet's  \npopulation was now dead.   \n  \nHe was certain that these demons had planned this. They instigated   \nnuclear strikes, knowing that any of their own \"killed\" would return.  \nThey had to. They were from Hell. The bad souls merely went back to   \nHell. At least, that's what he thought. No negotiations, no surrender,  \nno time. The demons had invaded Earth with purpose and moved swift.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;But he survived. Locked away in a cell on the Phobos moon base, away   \nfrom his unit, perhaps the only reason he survived the initial  \noutbreak of Hell itself. They let their guard down when they had  \nbelieved everyone to be dead. Fighting his way through Phobos, Deimos  \nand even a sector of Hell had been almost too easy. It made no sense.  \nBillions dead but they were unable to kill this one man.  \n  \nIt didn't have to. He knew that he would live and that he would fight  \nas long as he lived. Winning was irrelevant. The war had already been  \nlost.  \n  \nSemper Fidelis.  \n  \nThe corpse lying nearby hid a surprise, the last effort from the dead  \nto help him- three full pistol clips. Better than nothing. Peering  \ninto the hall, he saw them, three undead men, base security. Lifeless  \neyes, mouths dry, the converted sentries of Hell's invasion. His   \nbuddies, comrades, everyone he'd known on Phobos. Shells to be used  \nafter death. He killed them. How could someone kill the dead?  \n  \nPulling the slide of his standard issue handgun, three shots went off,  \ncarefully aimed for the heads, all three targets to the floor. It was  \nonly the beginning. The brown imp turned the corner, spotting the   \nbodies, spotting Taggart. It screamed out, a warning to the others.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;Flynn Taggart was a man who had survived by quick actions. Six shots  \nrang out, the imp bleeding, alive, but injured. The monster died in   \nseconds as the pink demon ran, stepping over its own ally to rush  \nthe hallway, its only thought to sink its teeth into Flynn Taggart,  \nUSMC Corporal, just another meal.  \n  \nDucking back into the break room, Taggart knew these things were  \ndangerous, but also stupid. On cue, it lodged in the door frame, mouth  \nas big as his torso, snarling and drooling, unable to squeeze through.  \nShotgun loaded, point blank, both barrels split the monster's brain.  \n  \nWiping the spray of blood from his face, Fly shoved the body out of his  \nway. This place was no longer safe. A quick check of the zombies  \nsupplied him a fresh clip, a loaded pump-action and an assault rifle.  \nTaggart loved these. They used the same clips as his pistol but were  \nmore accurate and fired faster. Shame his last one had jammed.  \n  \nHearing them, running quietly into the main warehouse floor, Fly dodged  \na stream of imps sent to investigate. He'd have to be quiet, avoid  \nbeing seen, until he knew damn well what he was up against.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;Content that he has at least a few seconds to breathe, Flynn Taggart  \ninspected the surroundings. It had to be that... the pink minotaur.  \nIt was angry, howling commands, screams of demons that human ears  \ncouldn't comprehend. He was certain they could talk, speak in his  \nlanguage, but they rarely did.  \n  \nThe walkway above, a perfect spot, if only he could make the ladder.  \nThe way HAD to be dark enough... taking his chances, Fly raced for  \nthe ladder, climbing as fast as his body would allow, ducking down.  \nHe only hoped it was just imps. The flying skulls would be a problem  \nand those big, red floating orbs could be worse.  \n  \nNo movement. They hadn't seen him. Taking position, rifle aimed,  \nhe began to fire, hitting imps in the head. Jumping forth, he dodged  \nthe onslaught of fireballs and plasma, the walkway rocking from the  \nstress. The metal was scorched and warped. No time to think, only  \ntime to shoot. Squeezing off rounds as he ran, Flynn Taggart took down  \nas many demons as possible, injuring more, jumping the railing and  \nusing stacks of wooden crates to reach the floor.   \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;He'd have to find a hiding spot, fire, find another spot, kill them  \nquickly, if only... his feet felt it, round and hard, almost tripping  \nthe Marine. Luck was on his side. A standard UAC rocket launcher.  \nHow luck would hold up, however... two rockets loaded. Lucky enough.  \nHe only needed two.  \n  \nNow to get them in one spot. Banging crates, making noise, Taggart left  \na trail of sound. Two rockets wouldn't kill the minotaur, Hell's Baron  \nof the invasion, but it would damn sure kill the imps. Simple and dumb,  \nthe imp made up for its basic intelligence in strength and numbers.  \nTossing balls of superheated fluid didn't hurt their credibility,   \neither.   \n  \nTaking aim, rocket primed, he waited until the crowd was gathered in  \na small opening, a single rocket taking flight, striking center,  \nthe crowd of monsters sent reeling from the explosion. Body parts  \nlodged in crates, bodies and blood caking the floor only two lived,  \nwhich he dispatched by gunfire. Ammunition was scarce but it was best  \nnot to take chances.  \n  \nOnly the Baron remained. Or so he thought as the nearest tall shipping  \ncrate cracked open, a skeleton falling out. Only it didn't fall, it   \nwalked. How it screamed, he might never guess, but it screamed at him,  \nand how a being with no eyes could see, well, another question that  \nhe didn't have time for.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;It swung at him. Almost too comical and unreal to believe, the bastard  \nthrew a punch. Dodging, never one to let his Marine training slack  \noff, Fly aimed his rocket, taking his final shot. He almost screamed  \na long list of obscenities as the thing dodged. Tossing the launcher  \nat it, the tube struck, seeming to irritate the monster. Shots fired.  \n\"Right,\" he muttered out, \"like it even HAS internal organs...\"  \n  \nThe monster was pissed. Taggart saw the tubes grafted to the shoulder  \npads of the armor, glowing. Running away, knowing when the shit would  \nhit the fan, a jump to the side cleared him from the missile, the  \nexplosion splintering crates and sending even more pieces of charred  \nimp raining down.  \n  \nA second missile fired, rolling to the side to dodge, only no explosion.  \nThe missile curved in the air, pointed at him once more. It was tracking  \nhim. Running and dodging, Fly did his best to avoid it, but the thing  \ndidn't give up.  \n  \nThe Baron was furious, stomping forth through the open warehouse  \nfloor. Perfect. Leading the projectile, running around the Baron,  \nbarely dodging a glowing claw, he used his enemy as a shield. The  \nmissile collided, exploding, burning the minotaur. Taggart was safe.  \nThe Baron was angry but had lost interest in him. Instead, it   \nconfronted the skeleton, slashing at it. Unwilling to tolerate  \nthe Baron's temper, it punched back, the two beings fighting.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;He'd seen this before. A monster would throw a fireball at him, hit  \na zombie or any other creature, and they would fight. Unfriendly  \nin every way.  \n  \nFalling back to regroup, or whatever one person could do, he tripped  \nover a metal box. \"Shit,\" he grumbled. Ready to move on, he saw  \nthe UAC emblem and the heavy latch. \"Come on, come on, come on...\"  \nOpening the container, it was like Christmas and birthdays all at once.  \n  \nThe BFG-9000.  \n  \nHow he'd wished his last one hadn't run out of firepower. They were   \nheavy, hard to haul around, but could bake an elephant in seconds.  \nThe perfect weapon of war, and his only real chance. Plugging the  \nbattery in, flicking the ignition switches, his prize lit up. Hoisting  \nthe gun, braced to his stomach, the two monsters still argued. No more.  \n  \nThey had no time to react, the bright ball of green fusion plasma  \nimpacting, sending skin, bone and nearby wood in all directions.  \nContent that the blast was cleared, Fly examined the remains. A useless  \nchunk of round metal, shattered ribs falling out, and a stench of rotten  \nmeat. Obvious bits of organic tissue had been lodged inside the  \narmor, whether it was important was anyone's guess. The missile tubed   \nwere damaged, cooked by the BFG, not that he had a clue how to work   \nthe launchers.   \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;The monsters were dead. Eventually, more would arrive, but for now,  \nhe had time to strip the place. if there was a BFG-9000 here, he would   \nfind more.  \n  \n------------------------------------------------------  \n  \n  \n\"Report...\"  \n  \nThe behemoth was not pleased. Metal support legs kept it off the ground,  \nthe Baron insignificant to it. \"We have lost... a compliment of imps,  \none of our kind, and one of the Revenant warriors all slaughtered.\"  \n  \nThe brain pulsated. Briefly, this being considered tearing the Baron  \nto ribbons, a vulcan cannon installed that would kill the underling  \nin a second, but it kept calm.  \n  \n\"A human has defied us this far, and will continue to do so... continue  \nall efforts to kill the one known as Taggart. Entire nations of this  \nplanet have been crushed. He is one man. he will fall eventually...\"  \n  \n------------------------------------------------------  \n  \n  \nRolling down the interstate, it felt good to drive. The roads were   \nempty, an eerie feeling. His main concern was teleportation. All  \nhe needed was a roadblock of Barons or a Cyberdemon in the middle of the  \nroad. Strange, however, they didn't simply teleport to wherever he was  \nat any given time.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;He also felt safe. The back of his vehicle was stocked. Ammunition,  \nweapons, and his wonderful BFG. Even the few plasma rifles would  \nlast well enough. Not that he could ever carry all of it, but it was  \nnice to have.  \n  \nAhead, his old home. Orlando, Florida was less than an hour away.  \nMaybe, being home, he could find some brief moment of comfort.  \n  \n------------------------------------------------------  \n  \n  \nParked out front, his old childhood home intact, the suburbs  \nsurrounding the city were deserted but undamaged. At least, it  \nappeared that way. Deep down, he hoped his father was inside, zombified,  \nasking for a bullet to the head. Even if he was alive... no, he  \nwouldn't dishonor the Marine Corps with murder. Even if the asshole  \nwas asking for it.  \n  \nThe key was under the mat, like always. As expected, no one home.   \nPeople had evacuated, perhaps weeks ago. No fresh food left, it would  \nall be rotted, but hopefully his father was still a cheap prick who  \nkept a stock of canned goods at home. And did the plumbing still work?  \nDid clean water still run through the city pipes?  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;------------------------------------------------------  \n  \n  \nWounds bandaged, a meal cooked, and clean water. It was all he had  \nhoped for. This place was quiet. Perhaps too quiet, but still, no  \ndemons. No zombies. No teleportation. Either no one knew he was  \nhere, or Hell didn't care.  \n  \nThe old book entertained him. No television, no music. Electricity  \nran but all broadcasts were dead. Just books. One had been special to  \nhim for a long time. A tome written by a man named Bill, his   \ngreat-great grandfather. More of a travel diary, really. In his adult  \nlife and old age, the man had explored the world, keeping detailed  \nrecords. But it was the earlier tales that fascinated him, of a boy  \nwho went to the stars, and to Mars. Fiction written as a child with  \na mind running wild.  \n  \nLost in the stories, tales of football helmets and pogo sticks,  \nTaggart was pulled back to reality from a sharp pain in his foot.  \nLooking down, he saw it was his combat boot. He'd kicked it without  \npaying attention. But something sharp?  \n  \nBending down to inspect, Fly found a piece of metal lodged in the  \nsole. Debris. Ripping it free, ready to toss it aside, the markings  \nhit him like a brick. \"No...\" Wiping the metal, the torn fragment  \nhad lettering. Nothing he could read. Too angular to be any Asian  \ncharacters, too unearthly to be Russian, too strange to be anything.  \nNo, not letters, just random markings.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;No.  \n  \nThey were familiar. And it wasn't some old language he'd studied in  \nschool or some sign he'd seen on Phobos, but he'd seen it. Just  \nnow, he'd seen those letters.  \n  \nFlipping through the journal, it was there, the answer. Here!  \nThe stories of the boy. A page dedicated to some odd language, some  \nsort of alien code, and the book contained a guide.  \n  \n\"No... how the hell did some book he wrote as a kid have the same  \nletters?\" he asked, almost wishing someone would pop up and answer him.  \nAn imp in a smoking jacket would suffice, a friendly demon with the  \nanswers.   \n  \nThe 'standard galactic alphabet', it was called. Unusual... had this  \nexisted before the stories were written? Something he'd created as a boy  \nand later used in life?  \n  \nIt made no sense...  \n  \n------------------------------------------------------  \n  \n  \nSleep was supposed to be a peaceful time. The body went into rest,  \nthe mind worked on some minimal level, allowing the body to process   \nnutrients and regenerate from the long, tiring day.  \n  \nFlynn Taggart found no comfort in sleep. The images in his head, the  \nblood, the skulls, walls of skin and green brick, torches everywhere.  \nHis brief time in Hell was a dark spot in his being that would forever  \nremain with him.   \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;But the sounds. Screams. Demonic howling. The sound of fires burning.  \n  \nIt was the sound that awoke him. Movement outside. Taggart's mind   \nremained alert, very alert, survival dependent on quick reaction.   \nGripping the plasma rifle, slow steps to keep silent, he moved, down  \nthe stairs, socks muffling his steps, quiet, like a panther, stalking  \nthe sound. He had it.  \n  \nKicking the kitchen door open, the face registered in his mind, a safety  \nmechanism clicking into place, keeping his finger off the trigger. The  \nplasma rifle could reduce a man into a spot of smoke in seconds, and  \nit was fortunate that the Corporal retained enough sanity to thing   \nbefore doing.  \n  \n\"You're not undead!\"  \n  \n\"No, at least I don't feel it. Hey...\" The stranger looked at Flynn with  \na sense of familiarity. \"You're the Taggart kid!\"  \n  \nFly knew this man, old, ragged, the stoner from down the street. The man  \nhe'd never known when he lived here, the man everyone avoided. \"Terry  \nJohnson?\"  \n  \n\"Terence,\" the man corrected, \"not Terry. Never Terry. I thought you   \nwere in the Army?\"  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;\"Marines,\" he grunted, showing his pride of military service.   \n  \nTerry hadn't seen a living human in some time. \"Everyone's gone. I don't  \nknow... I smoked some grass and woke up one day, and the world had   \nended. Just ended.\"  \n  \nFly mumbled angrily. \"You're the only one left. Probably in the entire  \ncity.\"  \n  \n\"City? No...\"  \n  \n\"NO? What's that supposed to mean?\"  \n  \n\"That- that's the thing. See, I got a radio and I've been talking to   \nsome people from the UAC. Scientists,\" Terence explained, though Taggart  \ncould see the man was coming off a drug binge. Not that he could blame  \nANYONE for getting high in this world. \"Y'see, the phones are down,  \nthere's no internet, no news net, but radios, see, I got one of them  \ntwentieth century radios from an old kit and some spare wire.\"  \n  \nIt was something. Not hope, but still, something. \"Show me.\"  \n  \n------------------------------------------------------  \n  \n  \n\"Lord Baphomet...\" The Spiderdemon greeted the wall itself, a massive  \nstone skull with a pulsating brain. Tubes fed the organic tissue with  \nblood, but the facade did not move. It did not need to move, for it was  \neverywhere in Hell, watching and controlling from isolation. The room  \nwas lit by an unknown source, green stone stairs amidst a pool of blood,  \nwhich oozed from the very walls. There were no doors, as only those  \ndeemed worthy by the devil himself may enter this place.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;\"How has the invasion of the living Earth realm proceeded?\" a voice  \nechoed.  \n  \nThe Spider Mastermind responded, \"very well. The governments tried to   \nfight back, but they have fared poorly. Some even begged for an   \nalliance. Pitiful beings.\" Indeed, the thought of an alliance with  \nthe humans was laughable. It was simplicity itself to merely kill  \neveryone as bodies could be re-animated and souls turned into an army of  \nloyal soldiers upon their arrival in Hell. \"We estimate three billion  \ndead.\"  \n  \n\"Hardly half the overall population, correct?\" the face commented. \"No  \nmatter, this invasion is still underway. I expect at least another  \ntwo million dead by the end of the week. Once the living population is  \nsufficiently depleted, the portals may be opened to a far greater  \ndegree and the planet will become my domain.\"  \n  \n\"Yes...\" The Mastermind's thoughts focused on the one human who had  \nsurvived the initial invasion of the moons.   \n  \nBaphomet could sense these thoughts as if they had been visually   \ndisplayed to him. His minions were always under careful monitor.   \n\"The Marine. His lineage has been problematic to both of us in the  \npast. Perhaps a priority should be placed upon eliminating Flynn  \nTaggart. I do not wish to see this human interfering, considering  \nthe actions of his ancestors. They seem to be particularly able to  \ndefy the odds placed against them.\"  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;\"Understood.\"  \n  \n\"One more thing...\"  \n  \nThe Mastermind looked up. \"Yes, Lord Baphomet?\"  \n  \n\"I would give you this word of advice... it would be better for you   \nfor you to die by Taggart's hands than to come crawling to me with  \nfailure. If you fail me, I will remove from you the gifts I have  \nbestowed.\"  \n  \nAngered, the Mastermind simply replied, \"understood.\" Walking away on  \ngigantic piston-operated legs, the demon allowed hatred to build, bubble  \nwithin. 'Yes, I know all too well what you do to those who fail, those  \nwho do not abide by the devil's wishes...'   \n  \nEntering an open area, Hell's red skies burned above, the same light   \nalways visible with no change. \"Commander!\"  \n  \n\"Yes, my lord?\" a lone Baron inquired.  \n  \nThe fleet was prepared. Large minotaurs armed with rocket launchers  \nin place of hands and with legs like buildings were prepared to march.  \nFloating red and brown orbs held position above the rows of leathery   \nImps. \"Where are my clones?\"  \n  \n\"The clones...\" Hesitant, the Baron offered up, \"my lord, we do not  \nfeel it is safe to use your clones.\"  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;Spiderdemon clones. The ones that resembled the Mastermind but lacked the  \nintelligence. \"Yes... unfortunately, they are quite stupid. Their needless  \nhabit of firing upon our own armies has proven to be an incredible  \nsetback and they have yet to kill the lone human survivor. Distribute  \nthem only to key locations where their weaponry may be paramount.\"  \n  \nResponding, \"Immediately, my lord,\" the Baron asked, \"what of the others?\"  \n  \n\"We shall send eighty percent of the waiting demons to the known hot spot  \nlocations. Moscow, Berlin, Tokyo.\" Were there any other such resistance  \ncells to consider? \"Yes, those three cities for now. The other twenty  \npercent shall be distributed to the location known as Florida.\"  \n  \nIt was shocking, unthinkable. To send such a force to an otherwise  \nbarren place. \"My lord, that area is all but cleansed. We would-\"  \n  \n\"Do as I say!\" Spinning the cannon as a gesture of threat, the Mastermind  \nwould offer no explanations to underlings nor allow them to question  \ndecisions.  \n  \n\"...very well,\" the frightened Baron of Hell relented.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;He remarked, \"failure is not a choice given to you this day.\"  \n  \n------------------------------------------------------  \n  \n  \nThe radio crackled and sparked, dead air the only signal. \"Give it time,\"  \nTerence said. \"Always takes time for the signal to cut through the  \nair.\"  \n  \nWaiting, bored, frustrated, Taggart sat, holding the receiver. \"This is-\"  \n  \n\"...UAC operations. Please state your frequency designation!\"  \n  \nThe signal was through. \"Frequency designation? Shit, uh...\" Fly didn't  \nhave a frequency designation to give. \"This is Corporal Flynn Taggart  \nof the USMC! Serial number 888-23-9912! Do you read?\"  \n  \nStatic. More static. Finally, \"we read you, Corporal. I'm surprised to  \nlearn any of the military are still alive.\"  \n  \n\"Been a long few weeks,\" Taggart responded.  \n  \n\"Corporal, the signals we transmit are-\" Static again. \"Corporal?\"  \n  \nHe replied, \"I'm here.\"  \n  \n\"As I was saying,\" the UAC voice continued, \"our transmissions are   \nintermittent at best. We can not risk being traced. I will give you   \ncoordinates where you can find us.\"  \n  \n\"Is that safe?\"  \n  \nThe voice answered, \"no, perhaps not. If we are overheard... but we're  \nall sitting here, waiting to die. Either they will kill us or the food and  \nwater will run out.\"  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;Terence handed Fly a pencil, the Marine scribbling down the address.  \n\"Got it. I have a truck, I should be there within the hour.\"  \n  \n\"The hour?\" The voice seemed to think Taggart was being generous. \"That  \nwill be possible IF you do not run into any patrols. I'm afraid the demons   \nare trying to kill off any survivors they can find, even in the dead  \nzones.\"  \n  \nBiting his lip, Flynn answered back, \"I'm not letting them take me down  \nthat easy. Be there when I can.\" Pulling his pistol, Fly handed it over.  \n\"Keep that in case.\" a pocket of spare clips on the desk was his last  \ngift before leaving.   \n  \nDuty called.  \n  \n------------------------------------------------------  \n  \n  \nThe Earth would soon burn in hellfire. Countries had fallen, their   \nchallenge a mere nuisance to Hell's armies, trampling the bodies,  \ncrumbling the streets and twisting the landscape. Green grass was such  \na disgusting image to the demons. Burning rock, magma shining through the  \ncracks, a much more fitting sight to behold.  \n  \nPowerful piston-driven limbs carried the massive brain forth, their sounds  \nechoing throughout the open canyons of Hell's expanse, as if to announce  \nthe Spider Mastermind's mere presence.   \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;What had Satan himself done, anyway? The fool was merely as useless stone   \nfacade, a wall that never moved, never could move. It was HIS leadership  \nthat took advantage of the Mars teleportation experiments, HIS decisions  \nto send Hell's legions through the gates, HIS choices that moved Deimos  \nto Hell's surface and opened the portals to Earth.  \n  \nThe Earth would be a mere prize. No, that was not the real goal. It is one  \nmatter to rule the Earth, or what could be considered to be left of it when  \nevery last fleshy, living, breathing mass was exterminated and the traces  \nof society removed from the very surface. But to rule Hell itself...  \n  \nBaphomet was a figurehead, in every sense. He would face the great downfall  \neventually. The demons would no doubt follow an active leader, a  \nconqueror, not the one who forced souls to stagnate in the fires of  \nHell, never to leave.  \n  \nGreen portals flared to life, deposing their transport close to the  \ndemon brain. \"My lord, we believe this human has encountered the soldier,\"  \nthe Baron offered, reaching out a glowing hand to give the gift of a  \ncaptive man.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;\"Really...\" Body bending down on powerful legs, the small hands gripped  \nonto the old man, beaten but breathing.   \n  \n\"You're not gettin' nothin' from me, ugly!\"  \n  \nSharpened teeth cracked into a smile. \"I will get plenty...\" Firing every  \nsynapse within its massive structure, the Mastermind probed deep into their  \ncaptor's very thoughts, his screams loud and dreadful as the mind probe  \ncaused such horrendous pain to the old man. \"Terence... you do not have  \nto tell me anything.\" Taking great joy in this torment, the Spiderdemon,  \nhoisting the human aloft, explained cheerfully, \"I will simply remove what  \nI need to know. This will kill you and it will hurt. I, however, shall  \ntake great pleasure in your suffering. And when you are dead, your soul   \nshall join my minions!\"  \n  \nSpitting a futile gesture, Terence mumbled, \"go to Hell.\"  \n  \n\"My foolish prey,\" it responded, \"we are already in Hell!\" Keeping its  \nglowing red eyes fixed upon the old man's face, in mere seconds, barely  \ntime for his victim to scream, a quick, loud pop rang out, brain matter  \nescaping from the wound and spraying the ground. Tossing the remains away,  \na gigantic metal foot crushing it into meat, the demon smiled as a flame  \nignited in the air. Gleefully, the horned skull flew around.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;\"Welcome to my army. Listen to me, all of you!\" Facing the vast legions  \nunder its command, the Mastermind ordered, \"Flynn Taggart is on his way   \nto a UAC facility. This human did not know where that is, but I do know  \nthat Taggart will be forced to pass trough the city nearby. I want every  \navailable soldier sent there NOW! Do not fail me! Taggart must be killed!  \nFail me and you shall be damned to the walls of torment!\"  \n  \nA wall of torment was the ultimate punishment, a stretch of screaming   \nfaces, forever frozen, souls unable to move or scream, unable to exist.  \n  \nIt was a threat worth taking seriously.  \n  \n-------------------------------------------------  \n  \n  \nThe military truck moved through empty city streets, the only one amongst  \ncountless vehicles to remain mobile. Twisted wrecks, abandoned cars,  \nfragments of explosions sat in the streets, abandoned and forgotten as the  \npeople who drove them, owners and passengers, either fled or died.   \n  \nThis had an unfortunate negative side effect for Fly. Leaving this much  \nwreckage and so many obstacles, finding a clear path was practically  \nimpossible. Walking would have been faster if not for his desperate need  \nto transport weaponry. Though the gas gauge wavered, taunting, a bad sign  \nthat soon, he would have no choice but to walk. Walking could be fatal,  \nhowever, as the open streets left room for an outward attack, unlike the  \ncorridors of the moon bases or the catacombs of Hell.   \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;It may have been a stroke of luck that Orlando was already a shell, torn  \nopen by the demonic forces, no one left behind to attract attention.  \n  \nLost in thought was perhaps a terrible place to be as Flynn hit the brakes.  \n\"This is new,\" he muttered, a large lump of flesh stumbling from behind a  \nburnt out delivery truck, screaming as it saw him. Lifting two powerful  \ncannons, firing heated plasma, Taggart jumped clear as the driver's  \ncompartment of his truck was engulfed in flame, the seats melted into  \nslag. Scrambling for the rear, jumping inside and kicking open the  \nmetal crates. Fly was able to grab only minimal supplies.  \n  \nHe could hear them, the crackling of small-scale teleports filling the air,  \nhis position soon assaulted by fire and bullets. Rushing into the old  \ngrocery store, taking cover, hoping beyond hope, the plasma gun raised,  \npellets of blue energy streaking through the air, their impact melting  \nwhatever they hit, the rotten skin of zombies smoking as the demonic  \nflesh of Hellspawn burned away, demons crying in pain as their physical  \nforms were ripped apart.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;Slapping a fresh battery into the gun, Corporal Taggart knew that staying  \nhere was not wise. His location was known, position compromised, and any   \nminute he would be overrun. Cut off from his weaponry, what little he  \nhad would have to serve as a means of survival. Combat was unacceptable.  \nSticking to the shadows, staying low, that would be his only way out  \nof this nightmare.  \n  \nThe stomping, that horrifying stomping shook the walls. \"Shit...\"  \nSearching the floors, pacing through and avoiding direct sight with windows,  \nFly only hoped for a basement entrance, a sub-level doorway. Anything  \nto avoid the powerhouse outside.   \n  \nOpening the hatch, climbing down, Fly wished that this basement only led   \ninto the underground maintenance networks. More importantly, he wished  \nthat the streets above remained strong enough to avoid collapsing under   \nthe weight of what walked above.  \n  \nSmelling the air, the Baron was displeased. \"The human must have found  \nsome sort of escape.\"  \n  \n\"Or he was never HERE!\" an Imp shouted in anger, \"it's not as if those  \nworthless fat blobs can even see past their own fat faces!\"  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;\"Imp...\" Gripping the leathery skull and twisting to the remains of the  \ntruck, the Baron remarked, \"then where did that come from? Please, tell   \nus, little fool! There must be some sort of underground tunnel system  \nbeneath this filthy human city!\" The Cyberdemon peered around, only  \nhoping for a fresh target. Impatient and filled with anger, the towering  \ndemonic goat only wished for the chance to destroy something. \"YOU!  \nBegin firing upon the surface! Perhaps we will be fortunate this day and  \nthe underground will collapse on this pathetic soul!\"  \n  \nGrowling a cry of pride, the monster took aim, volleys of rockets slamming  \npavement, cracking the streets as debris rained down. \"Use short range  \nteleports to transport below. Any and all available infantry of smaller  \nsizes!\"  \n  \n\"But we don't know where to go,\" a lone Hell Knight protested, \"if we   \nteleport into a solid wall or a-\"  \n  \nScratching the lesser demon, the Baron demanded, \"if you fail it will be  \na far worse fate! Now do as you have been ordered!\"  \n  \nBelow, in the darkness, Flynn Taggart fiddled with a set of darkness  \nvision goggles, adjusting the light levels. The battery was low, only  \nten minutes of light before blindness. If only he had a working area  \nmap of these old tunnels. Fortunes had been strong enough to reveal a door  \ninto the city's maintenance network. Not quite the sewers but it would  \nstill offer some degree of passage.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;Weaponry, however, was light. A single shotgun, a few shells, and his  \nplasma rifle with only one full battery had been salvaged prior to his   \narsenal being reduced to ash. To make matters far worse, the tunnels shook  \nwith the echoes of explosions. No doubt the massive demon, a figurative  \nbuilding with legs, was pummeling the streets and he could hear the   \ndistinct footsteps far away. More of them were nearing this location.  \n  \nIt was unsafe by any definition of safety. Even if he could escape the  \ntunnels, his armaments were so light that only a few of the monsters would  \nfall before all hope was lost.  \n  \nThe haunting shriek of teleportation could be heard in the distance. They   \nwere in the maze with him now. Feet moving slowly, Fly almost tripped  \nover a mass lumped onto the floor. Looking down, the Marine found what   \nhad been left of a body, the spikes a sure sign of one of the lesser Imps,  \nimpaled on what appeared to be a jackhammer.  \n  \nNo. Not a jackhammer, a chainsaw.   \n  \nWhat a chainsaw was doing under the streets of Orlando, coated in the blood  \nof one of the foul things, was perhaps a mystery that Flynn Taggart  \nwould never piece together. However, it was a great advantage. The plasma   \nbattery, despite being incompatible with his rifle, would power the  \nsaw for some time and the blade still felt sharp to the touch.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;Such gifts often came with prices and this was a terrible price. The blade  \nwould make noise, as if he'd held up a sign for all to see and they would  \nbe on him. It might be useful in close-quartered combat but against  \nprojectiles or bullets, an ineffective show. Dropping it for a gun might  \ncomplicate matters and the saw itself posed a severe risk of personal  \ninjury in the event he were to drop it or swing incorrectly, or be pushed,  \nor any other circumstance that would cause him to meet the blade.  \n  \nThe growls moved closer. Closer and angrier. His blood was a priority  \ntarget and Taggart could only place a strong bet that every last one  \nof them had been given strict orders to kill him or to die trying.  \n  \nGripping the starter cord, his hand flew back, starting the blade.  \n  \n------------------------------------------------------  \n  \n  \n\"You have found him?\"   \n  \nPowerful legs traveling the giant green-stoned temple, the Spider   \nMastermind was drooling viciously. \"Make sure he does NOT escape! No...\"  \nTurning to the lead Baron of Hell, it asked, \"would you think it unwise if  \nwe used their own nuclear weapons? After all, what is one worthless city  \nthat we shall rebuild anyway?\"  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;\"My lord, that would be a great idea but...\"  \n  \n\"But...?\" Body twisting down, eyes glowing bright, it inquired, \"what do  \nyou mean, you worthless underling?\"  \n  \n\"I fear to report that the only human nuclear launch facilities that are   \nstill operational are near the Moscow region.\" The Baron was afraid. It  \nknow that telling his demonic overlord what it did not wish to hear was  \nnever a wise choice.  \n  \n\"MOSCOW? Did you brainless, idiotic cretins NOT consider what you were  \ndoing?\" Stamping down a heavy leg, screaming, \"incompetent, worthless...  \nDO YOU NOT HAVE THE BASIC CAPACITIES FOR THOUGHT? You kill the living  \nand keep what is USEFUL? GAAAHHH!\" Racing along the stone floor of Hell,  \nworn red rock crackling underneath the weight of the brain's mechanized  \nbody, it opened a pen containing numerous creatures, all similar to itself.  \n  \n\"Who is it?\"  \n  \n\"WHO IS IT?\"  \n  \nThe cries were far maddening, the Mastermind screaming out, \"SILENCE!\"  \nIn fear, the walking brains did as they had been ordered. \"Take these and  \ntransport them into the city. That human is NOT to survive! Kill him!  \nMangle him! Keep him there until the missiles rain nuclear fire, I DO NOT  \nCARE!\"  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;One of the many Cyberdemons, suddenly wary of its master's behavior,  \ninquired, \"my lord, what of-\"  \n  \n\"BE QUIET! You are an IDIOT! A FOOL! I was the one who allowed Hell to  \ngain power, I was the one who gave you the gifts of modern science! I was  \nthe only one with the genius needed to plan this invasion,' it spat in  \nfury, \"and I will be DAMNED for eternity to see it fail because of one  \nstubborn human that refuses death! Now, GO! Carry out my orders! I have  \nmuch to plan and prepare for and I must NOT be disturbed!\"  \n  \nFearful of retribution, the monster's underlings simply agreed, in silent  \nnods, to do as they were told. Leading the spider brains into the massive  \ndimensional teleporters, the legions of Hell returned to the Earth realm  \nto do as told.  \n  \nShambling into a massive temple, ugly green marble stained with blood, the  \nSpiderdemon opened a sliding wall. Within rested a single black object.  \nBody flexing down on pistoned legs, collecting the tiny onyx trinket,  \nthe Mastermind recalled. Memories of wearing this in a past life.  \n  \n\"He is coming... they will not stop him, he is coming and he will kill   \nme...\"  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;------------------------------------------------------  \n  \n  \nThrusting forth, the sputtering growl of spinning teeth tore into the Imp's  \nchest, red life creeping from the wound. Kicking the torso free, Flynn  \nTaggart swung again, the blade tearing through a neck of the undead, soft  \nrotting flesh ripping as if it were nothing.\u0026nbsp; Grabbing the fallen zombie's  \npistol and firing, two more of the brown demons fell as their eyes were  \nperforated by heated metal.  \n  \nOffering little room to move, the maintenance tunnels proved more of a   \nhassle than a blessing. Dodging back, avoiding the raw teeth, Fly escaped  \nthe pink creature's bite by inches. Arms stuck, the beast unable to free  \nitself, it would prove no further threat. This meant, though, that the  \npassage ahead was sealed off. Another route must be found. A simple  \nmatter, really, to find an exit to the surface on the outer edge of the  \ndemon infestation above.  \n  \nSimple, if not for blinding darkness, tunnels filled with the damned, and  \nlittle means of defense. Stumbling around, pale light confusing his Marine  \nsenses, Taggart could feel nothing under his feet.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;He fell.  \n  \nBracing for the sudden drop, the stop came almost instantly. He had stepped  \ninto an opened hatch, leading into a sub-tunnel. Kicking something heavy,  \nTaggart dropped the blade, his hands instantly recognizing the light visor.  \n'Hope it's still good,' he thought, slipping it on and flicking the power   \nswitch.  \n  \nThe tunnel was a bright green now, light amplification at its finest. He  \ncould crawl through, unlikely to be followed. Throwing aside the chainsaw,  \nchecking his pistol clip, Fly crawled down, closing the sliding hatch.  \nEasing through, careful to keep his noises to a minimum, knees rattling  \nagainst the steel, the tunnel ended in a ladder not far from where   \nFly had entered.  \n  \nScattering up the rungs, into the next passage, Fly picked a right fork and  \ncontinued along. A grating on the side revealed burning flames, their  \nlight flooding the passage. Ripping the light visor off, he could see a  \nburning skull, roaming without direction. Easing quietly past the monster's  \nsight, uncertain if it even had a sense of hearing, Taggart, pistol  \nready, ventured on.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;Finally, an opening. The tunnel emptied into a main access point. Ears  \nup, the Marine heard only minor noise above. Gently scaling the maintenance  \nladder, he hit the button to open the hatch. The visor clipped to his belt,  \nhe jumped free. UAC emblems plastered the walls and consoles, boxes and  \ncrates. Not far, he spotted two of the brown Imps, looking out into the  \nstreets. A garage, most likely.   \n  \nThree opened barrels, tops glowing green, one Imp resting against the shiny  \ncylinder. These had been a common sight on the Phobos moon base, and still  \nplentiful in the remnants of Deimos. One bullet ripping into the metal,  \none heated bullet igniting the sensitive toxic ooze, it was a simple means  \nto make an instant bomb when these barrels were in sight.  \n  \nBeing a UAC facility, weapons were likely. The green slime was a by-product  \nof the plasma production process, not only used for energy but plasma gun  \nammunition. This was not the Orlando power plant, either. It had to be a  \nweapon's depot.  \n  \nCarefully sliding towards the main door, he knew that punching the door  \nlock would mean sounding a subtle beep, alerting these foul things. Gun  \nsteady, two shots flew, impacting their target as the explosion rang forth,  \ntorn bodies shot out into the streets.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;\"What in the HEAVENS was that?\" Attention turned to the scene, a Baron led  \nits horde to investigate.   \n  \n\"Idiots were standing next to toxic barrels,\" the subordinate Hellknight  \nreported. \"Probably set them off with their body heat.\"  \n  \nStomping forth, thin body pale in the hazy sun, one demon saw the door   \nclosing. \"I do not think so...\" Raising its arms, glowing deep crimson,  \nan unholy force caused one of the shredded corpses to rise, wounds sealed.  \n\"He is here...\"  \n  \nWithin the warehouse, Fly opened door after door, room after room, searching  \nfor hope. \"THERE!\" It was a prize worthy of any survivalist. Plasma guns,  \nbatteries, and perhaps best of all, a BFG-9000, waiting to be tested.   \n  \nEagerly grabbing up whatever could be stuffed onto his web gear, fit into  \npockets, Taggart clipped two of the rifles to his back and loaded the   \nbehemoth. Exiting the room, the Marine could hear Hell's fury in the halls.  \nThey had found him.   \n  \nClimbing stairs, the busted window was inviting. Perched at the edge, the  \ntorn streets below, he whistled out. Never one to allow the enemy a chance,  \nTaggary squeezed the trigger, the tip warming, green glow tearing the sky.  \nImpacting on asphalt, the giant orb exploded, shockwaves slamming the   \nmonsters around like paper dolls in wind.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;\"He's up there!\" a Cyberdemon screamed out, roaring as rockets flew. Flynn  \nknew better than to stand idle, feet racing to the steps. Dropping the  \nBFG, his Plasma gun cracked to life, hot blue pulses ripping into the  \ndemonic spawn.   \n  \nKicking through the mass of bodies, onto the streets, now was the time to  \nrun. Survival mattered far greater than killing a few demon spawn.  \n  \n\"Ah,\" the calm voice cried, \"you. Now, you die!\" Raising its hands, the   \npale being glowed, a sphere of energy glowing in front of Fly's chest.   \nDodging to the side, he found the ball of light following. Jumping around  \nthe corner, he felt the explosion, but was spared the blast.  \n  \nIt seemed that the monster could not aim out of a line of sight.  \n  \nScanning for its target, the being sniffed the air. \"Ah, there you are,  \nnow-\" Blasts rocked the air, slamming into the walls, only singing the  \nthin demon. \"Incompetent brute!\" it shouted in anger, turning towards the  \nCyberdemon. Glowing bright, the vile creature detonated an energy sphere  \nat its accidental attacker.  \n  \n\"You little...\" Having lost interest in the hunt, the massive demon aimed  \nthe giant cannon towards the pale entity, firing upon it.   \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;Enraged at the display, the Baron in command ordered, \"stop that! We have  \norders!\" It received no answer, the two beings engaged in their argument of  \nflame. \"Idiots...\" Hands glowing, the Hellbaron threw plasma at them both,  \nthe monsters responding by turning their anger at it now.  \n  \nTucked away in the safety of the alley, Flynn Taggart watched as, one by   \none, Hell's forces turned upon each other. Fire and bullets, claws and   \nteeth, simple minds focused only on the immediate situation.  \n  \nRacing out, looking for new cover, the chrome seemed to call to him.  \nHis own male instincts towards shiny objects of such nature were still  \noperating. Like a gift, a motorcycle, relatively intact, sat against the  \nremains of a burnt truck.   \n  \n\"Come on, come on...\" The fuel battery gauge showed plenty of charge.   \n\"YEAH!\" Clamping a hand on his mouth, still too late, an Imp spotted him.  \n\"Shit, shit...\" Jumping on, kicking the starter, \"come on, baby, start  \nfor Fly...\"  \n  \nThe engine came to life. Hitting the gas, the blazing ball only missed  \nTaggart's head by inches as wheels ran. Gaining speed through the maze  \nof rubble, wrecked cars and bodies in the way, he saw a possible escape.  \nA ramp, makeshift but a ramp nonetheless, Fly aimed the bike and raced.  \nInto the air, over the destruction, wheels landed into a clear path.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;Let the demons kill each other. He had places to be.  \n  \n------------------------------------------------------  \n  \n  \n\"He is coming and he will NOT be stopped!\"  \n  \n\"Your fear is unfounded. This one man shall not stand before Hell itself!\"  \nEyes glowing within the chamber, fluids pumped into the massive skull face,  \nthe very Icon Of Sin, the Lord Baphomet, saw no reason to show concern.  \n  \nHowever, the Mastermind itself saw otherwise. \"How can you ignore the   \nlineage? You once had the world in your grasp as the Nazis conquered Europe.  \nThey would have moved outward to the rest of the world, even defeated Russia  \nwhen the time came... but that was taken from you!\"  \n  \n\"An inconsequence,\" Baphomet boomed, the deep voice shaking the chamber,  \nblood falls splashing their red life fluids.  \n  \n\"You say that,\" the demon responded, teeth glowing in the haze, \"but do  \nnot forget that it was only one man who defeated the mighty Adolph Hitler.  \nAnd it was the descendant of that man who stood in my way! I was better than  \nhim in every way yet I still tasted defeat, at every opportunity, never once  \nmanaging to stay ahead long enough to carry out my goals...\"  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;Machinery working in the distance, the great voice called out, \"that is  \nthe past. I only concern myself with what is now occurring. Ready your  \nlegions, if this human does visit our realm, he shall regret such a   \nchoice. He shall become one of us upon his death.\"  \n  \nTurning towards the teleportation stone, all the Spiderdemon could think  \nwas, 'you say that now...'  \n  \n------------------------------------------------------  \n  \n  \nSputtering to a halt, the engines taxed from the hard ride, Corporal Taggart  \nstopped at the entrance ramp. Smacking the buzzer, he awaited the answer.  \n\"I'll open the gate but hurry through.\"  \n  \nRiding in underneath the metal door, closing shut behind, Flynn parked his  \nride, gathering his weaponry and heading for the elevators. Down into the  \nlower levels, the sudden calm and quiet was almost strange to him. Why did he   \nexpect a trap? For those ready to greet him to be more zombies and imps?  \n  \nParanoia, likely. The elevator door opened to greet him with the sight of an  \nactual person, the first he'd seen since leaving the suburbs. \"Corporal.  \nI see you made it safely. I'm Doctor Betruger.\"  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;\"Any demons I need to know about in here?\"  \n  \n\"No, it's rather calm and I intend to keep it that way,\" the scientist   \nanswered. \"We have a radio field around the facility which seems to prevent  \ntheir teleportation into our midst, at least it has so far... please, come  \nwith me.\"  \n  \nLeading the Marine through the halls and into a meeting room, Betruger took  \na seat. \"I believe I may have a theory as to this invasion. And I believe  \nyou may be a key part of this.\"  \n  \nTaggart brushed aside the idea. \"I didn't-\"  \n  \n\"I don't mean to imply that you caused this,\" the doctor stated, \"I mean that  \nit may have to do with a relative of yours. Oh... what is that is your  \nback pocket? Could it be...\"  \n  \n\"This?\" he said, pulling out his great grandfather's journal.  \n  \nBetruger eagerly took the book away. \"Yes... could it be?\" Pulling the pages  \nfrom his folders, the doctor found the torn stubs in the book itself. \"What do  \nyou know of Bill Blaze?\"  \n  \n\"Not much. Just that he wrote some stories as a kid and did some exploration  \nlater on.\"  \n  \n\"Stories... no. His tales were fantastic but hardly stories. You see, the   \nplanet of Mars was once capable of supporting life, until it was burned by  \nsome planetary explosion. Your great grandfather was telling the truth in   \nthese pages.\"  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;Pushing away his chair, Taggart muttered, \"I'm leaving now.\"  \n  \n\"If you want to stop this then you have no time for arrogance! Russian launch  \nfacilities have already fired nuclear weapons on the city. They will be here  \nin a few hours.\"  \n  \nSlowly, Fly returned to his chair. \"Go on...\"  \n  \n\"We have a working teleporter on site. It can send one person but that is all  \nwe will have the power for. Any more and we will lose the radio field. Below  \nus is a bunker that can withstand the blast, but our internal power source  \nwill expire in two days, leaving us no defenses and we do not know how these  \ncreatures will behave with radiation. This invasion must be stopped now!\"  \n  \n\"And what's this got to do with all that old stuff?\"  \n  \nBetruger clarified, \"Bill Blaze wrote of a boy named Mortimer McMire. He was  \nwhat Bill described as... pure evil. We know that the invasion began on Phobos  \nand Deimos, and it is likely that Mars itself shared similar gateways once.  \nWe believe now that Mars was burned by Hell. The pages I have told of McMire's  \ndeath on Mars in that very cataclysm. I also know that one of the chief  \ndemons of this invasion is a massive entity. It looks like a brain on legs.\"  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;\"I've killed a few of those,\" he shot back.   \n  \n\"One of the brown demons we captured told us everything. The ones you killed  \nwere likely copies. But we also know full well that McMire was intelligent.  \nDo you see why we believe that the walking brain is in command?\"  \n  \n\"So I kill the brain and this ends?\"  \n  \nShaking his head, Betruger answered, \"perhaps not. Mortimer McMire may be   \nin charge of the invasion but never discount the devil himself.\"  \n  \nShrugging, Fly grumbled, \"so I kill Satan? That sounds... simple.\"  \n  \n\"Hardly... but for now we have no other choice in the matter. Unless you wish  \nto die without fighting.\" Betruger received no reply. \"I thought not. Come,  \nI will show you to our armory. Take what you can. You may be able to salvage  \nextra supplies when you reach Hell, we have sent supplies and troops before.  \nBut you will be on your own. If you survive it will be your task to find a way  \nhome.\"  \n  \n-------------------------------------------------------------  \n  \n  \nAs the green haze vanished, Flynn Taggart found himself in the red mountains.  \nBroken, bent trees with no leaves and odd spiky plants littered the grounds.  \nThe red sky seemed to absorb the mountains. Magma flowed in streams along the   \nground, skulls jutted out like rocks.   \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;All Fly could think about were those missiles. Even if he succeeded here, his  \nhome city would be destroyed.   \n  \nThe point of entry was quiet but he saw no need to remain. Making sure the BFG   \nwas secured to his back, his shotgun and pistol clipped to the belt, helmet  \nstrapped down, the Corporal kept the plasma gun ready and made his way for the  \nnearest buildings. If the UAC science people were correct, he should be near  \na key location. Pushing open an ancient wooden door, green stone walls   \nawaited.  \n  \n-------------------------------------------------------------  \n  \n  \n\"He is here. Send everything we have at him! Make sure my copies are able to  \ngreet this fool. When this soldier has died, I want his corpse delivered to  \nme.\"   \n  \n\"Yes, my lord!\" the pink Baron replied.  \n  \nThe Mastermind gloated. No man, regardless of lineage, would be able to  \nchallenge Hell.  \n  \n-------------------------------------------------------------  \n  \n  \nThis was an impossible battle. Unwinnable. The courtyards, halls and towers  \nwere nothing but demons. Caves and ditches hid even more. His own weapon  \nstocks were insufficient. Firing a burning plasma sphere, the BFG would at  \nleast clear the path but the few dead would hardly matter. Not even a full  \nMarine Corps invasion could hope to handle this.   \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;Pulling a door shut behind him, Fly threw away the helmet. Sweat had fogged  \nup the visor and he could barely see through it anymore. It did little to  \nkeep out the smell of the air, the sulfur and rotting meat. Tossing open the  \ncabinets and stone boxes hoping to find anything of use, the sight of a   \nflashing red orb caught his notice.   \n  \nTaggart had come across one before, on Phobos. It was an incredible artifact.  \nThe UAC had attempted research into invisibility tech but saw little real  \ndevelopment for use beyond large scale applications. This glowing orb did  \nwhat science had yet to learn.   \n  \nIt was not a perfect invisibility but it would be suitable. His body would  \nleave traces, spots where the light was refracted poorly. Taggart was also  \nfully aware that these monsters would fire upon any strange object, any sound  \nhe made. He also knew that they did not like being attacked, even by other   \ndemons, and they would fight each other with only minor provocation.  \n  \nThe door rattled. Touching the sphere, Fly's body vanished as an angered   \nskeleton stumbled in. Looking around, seeing nothing, the beast was puzzled.  \nSlipping by quietly, outside again, the Corporal fired his pistol into the   \nair. It was sufficient. Rockets and fire aimed for the sound, others aimed  \nfor what they thought was a body seen in the distance. Such a devastating  \namount of Hell's fury was going to hit something.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;Thsoe that took injury responded in kind, forgetting their orders and turning   \nback, hoping to retaliate. Fire and rockets were returned. Running like mad,  \ndodging those that were still searching for him, Corporal Taggart only fired  \nhis weapons sparingly to get attention. In minutes, half of these demons were  \nfighting the other half.  \n  \nIt gave him some sense of fun to see a Mastermind copy dealing with a small   \nmob of angered beings of various shapes, the chaingun tearing them apart one  \nby one as its brain leaked blood from the torn wounds.  \n  \nArrogance came with a price. Screaming as a stray flame hit his leg, the cry of  \npain drew more attention his way. Hobbling along, ignoring the burning sense  \nin his muscles, his body began to flash and solidify. The orb's power was  \nfading and in seconds, he was a visible target. Flynn Taggart, leg almost  \nnumb now, pointed the plasma rifle and hit the trigger, striding like mad over  \nthe rocky terrain and racing for a temple opening.  \n  \nBefore the fires of Hell could finish their task, he saw the switch inside.  \nPressing the skull lever, a gigantic green wall slid upward. The Marine could  \nhear missiles and balls of lightning slamming the other side, echoing through  \nthe twisted marble.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;\"Well... somehow, you have made your way past thousands of my legion. You  \ncontinue to defy your own destiny of death. But now, you insect, you are in my   \nhands.\"  \n  \n\"Ah, shit!\"  \n  \nThe Mastermind smiled. \"I could simply open that wall and allow them to deal  \nwith you. But you have angered me. Your death is mine to earn.\" Revving the  \nmassive gun, heated bullets flew forth, spraying like rain. Barely jumping  \nout of the way, the BFG fell from his back, ripped to shreds in the fire.   \nDucking behind a pillar, Fly only winced in pain as the massive mechanical  \nlegs stamped the ground.   \n  \n\"You will die here! This plan of yours to defeat Hell has been a joke from the  \nbeginning. A joke I am sick of seeing! You have denied Baphomet's wishes and  \ncontinued to evade your fate for far too long!\"  \n  \nTaggart needed time. He needed an advantage. \"Shut up McMire!\"  \n  \n\"That name means nothing to me!\"  \n  \n\"I told you to SHUT UP, McMire! Or are you too stupid to do as you're told?\"  \n  \nSharpened teeth chattered in a rage. \"That boy no longer exists! That boy   \ncould not even destroy one simple world. I have brought Hell to Earth!\"  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;\"You're a big idiot, you know that?\" he screamed, racing for the next pillar.  \n\"You got yourself killed so you could play servant boy to the devil! Some  \ngenius! If you're so smart why aren't you in charge?\"  \n  \n\"I am the genius! I am the grand intellect!\"  \n  \nAnger was powerful but it could also blind one. \"I'm sorry, I thought you  \nwere the Gannalech? That's what my great grandfather's journal called you!\"  \n  \n\"Do not call me THAT!\" the brain screamed in rage, firing steadily at the   \npillars.  \n  \nHe shouted back over the gunfire, \"why not? It's your name!\" No answer, merely  \nscreams. Taggart had the boy now. Even as a demon, Mortimer McMire was still  \nan angry child. It was only now he noticed the rocket launcher, still held by  \nthe hand of the last owner. That's all there was, a hand. Tossing the body  \npart free, checking the chamber, the Corporal found three rockets still   \nloaded.   \n  \nThe spider brain's cannon was powerful. That was evident from the damage  \nobserved at the base of these pillars. Pits in the stone, cracks at the  \nbase, certainly that was enough to cause one of these towers to fall if only  \none was hit with a solid impact. Picking up a chunk of rock, throwing it  \ntowards the wall, Fly tricked his nemesis into turning away. Firing yet again  \nin a futile effort, it could not hear the rocket being fired. By the time  \nit noticed the falling pillar, the Mastermind's front legs had been crushed  \nunder the rock, pinned down, gun flattened.   \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;\"NO! I can't move!\"  \n  \n\"Then you're not a threat to me. Goodbye, moron.\"  \n  \nBreathing heavily, the spider brain screamed in anger, \"this is not over.  \nDo you believe that leaving me here ends this? Baphomet still commands Hell.  \nBaphomet still reigns over your world.\"  \n  \n\"If I had enough ammo I'd kill you right now.\u0026nbsp; But I think leaving you here  \nmight be worse,\" Fly gloated. \"Think a way out of this one if you're so   \nsmart! I have to go see the devil.\"  \n  \n-------------------------------------------------------------  \n  \n  \nSinged flakes of green cloth fell away as the Marine trodded through the  \nhalls. Burning pain tore through the muscle, the wound only growing worse  \nwith each step putting pressure against the burn. Eventually, Flynn Taggart  \nwould be unable to walk.   \n  \nThis fact was only further compounded by the fact that the only way to the  \nsurface from here was a long, spiraled stairway lining the circular pit.   \nClipping the rocket launcher to the back catch on his armor, shotgun loaded,  \nFly began the lengthy walk. Only a few steps upward, the floor pressed in  \nbeneath the heavy boot. A rumbling filled the air, and it was soon apparent   \nthat the bubbling pit of lava in the center was rising.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;\"Shit...\"  \n  \nThe choice of a wounded leg or being burned alive was a choice that didn't   \nseem very fair to Taggart. Rushing upwards as fast as possible, the leg burn  \nnow bleeding heavily as the skin tore itself open, a green flash upwards  \nsignaled the sudden appearance of a new obstacle. \"I don't need this,\"  \nhe grumbled as the pink demon raced towards him. Raising quickly, the magma  \nshowed no signs of slowing it's crawl.   \n  \nKilling the demon wouldn't help as he'd have to climb over the body and a  \ntorn up leg wasn't suitable for the task. Gripping the gun's barrel firm,  \nswinging with well-planned aim, Fly cracked the monster across the face,  \nthe blow stunning the demon. In its daze, the pink creature walked off the   \nledge, screaming as liquid rock burned it away.  \n  \nIt was a move that bought him time, certainly, but a costly one. The shotgun  \nwas broken. He's taken the risk of an accidental discharge. And if another  \ndemon was in is way, he'd be trapped. Tossing the broken weapon aside, pulling  \nthe standard issue pistol, Flynn Taggart ignored the throbbing muscle pain and  \nran. Upwards to freedom, upwards from the fires, he ran. Minutes felt like  \nhours but the top approached. Sliding the door open to freedom, the wary  \nsoldier slid the wooden door shut behind, thinking, 'just hope that lava  \nstops soon, this might not keep it out...'  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;The will wanted to continue but the body was worn. Dropping to the ground,  \nhis leg now numb, Flynn couldn't walk any further. His toes wouldn't even  \nmove. Standing was now impossible. Was this how it ended? The Mastermind  \nwas pinned, but still alive. The devil himself was out of reach. The Marine  \nhad become too confident for his own good.   \n  \nPerhaps by chance, he'd noticed that one of the lights in the hall was   \ndifferent. The torches gave off a red glow but a flash of blue seemed to  \nblink from a spot in the wall. Crawling to the cracked brick, finding the  \nwall loose in that spot, Fly wiggled bricks loose and threw them aside.  \n  \nSalvation.  \n  \nMaybe it was luck. Maybe some force had called him to this place. Whatever the  \nreason, the glowing blue sphere was like the one he'd seen on Phobos long ago.  \nWasting no time in touching the magical object, a rush of energy flooded every  \ncell in Taggart's exhausted body. Feeling more alive than ever, no longer  \nheld back by injury, the determined Marine picked himself up and ran forth.  \n  \nOpening into a larger room, the hall ended it's path. It took little to  \nrecognize the scene. Armored soldiers slain and dumped, their gear piled   \ncarelessly. It was a weapon's stash but one marred by death. Sifting through,  \ncollecting whatever he could carry, a sudden anger welled up inside.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;Grabbing a heavy steel rod, the Marine's muscular arms swung at a decorative  \nskull. Pieces of bone took to the air as Taggart's wrath aimed at torches,  \nwall scrolls and paintings. It was medieval, all of it and Flynn Taggart hated  \nmedieval works, especially the Dark Ages. He hated this place, he hated this  \ninvasion. The fury now calm, dropping his tool, the room was torn to pieces.  \nDefiled. The same as they had done to his home.  \n  \nGreen. That was all he could see as the room changed. What was once a  \nsmall room to dump bodies was now an opened hall. Green slime trickled down the   \nwalls and the gigantic skull in the center of it did not look very friendly.  \n  \n\"This quest of yours ends now. I shall deal with you personally!\" a powerful  \nvoice echoed.  \n  \n\"The devil himself... what makes you think you can do any better? You're stuck  \nin the past! I don't need magic or sorcery to kill you. You might glue a  \nrocket launcher onto some monster of yours but you're still in the Dark   \nAges! Humanity changed. You can't win this.\"  \n  \nSwinging forth, gigantic hooks ripped open the skull, exposing a burning  \nhell fire. Deep within the mind of Baphomet, steel boxes began to fly, calling   \nupon the demonic hordes one by one. Soon, trapped in the middle, Taggart   \nshouted out, \"so maybe I underestimated this... Semper Fi.\"  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;Challenging such a gathering would be pointless, but none had attacked yet.  \nThe demons waited for their master's orders. Fly had no need to wait, no   \nmaster to obey but himself. Lifting the rocket launcher tube and  \nfiring a volley into the opened brain, he'd somehow wished that the soft inner  \ntissue might be vulnerable, if the flames didn't burn the rockets first.  \n  \nThe air became a symphony of screams. Baphomet wailed as missiles ripped apart  \nthe inside of his skull and demon soldiers could not focus as their minds  \nscrambled. The telepathic bond that Baphomet used to give orders seemed to  \nchannel the pain it felt. Reloading the chamber and firing again, bodies fell  \nall around him, the mental feedback killing every demon that seemed linked to  \nBaphomet. Shattering and crumbling, the massive skull form reduced to mere   \nrock, leaving a gaping hole in the face of Hell.  \n  \nFree now to leave, sloshing through the slime and over the bodies, through the  \ncavernous bone and burnt brain tissue, Flynn Taggart wondered if the devil  \nwas genuinely dead. Had it really been this easy?  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;Onto a stone pad, carried away in green light, he found himself near McMire.  \nStill pinned underneath the pillar, the brain seemed to be whining. \"He's  \ndead. Your army is dead.\"  \n  \n\"Perhaps it was good of me to block Lord Baphomet's mind or I may be dead too.  \nHelp me... I can't move from here.\"  \n  \nShrugging, Fly asked, \"where's the way back to Earth?\"  \n  \n\"I shall show you once you release me!\"  \n  \n\"HOW?\" Taggart knew better. \"You can't walk. Tell me.\"  \n  \n\"Very well... a monument half a mile east is where we store the main portal   \nthat is now opened to Earth. Now get me out of this!\" it screamed, angered  \nat the situation.  \n  \nSpinning on his heel, the Marine merely said, \"burn in Hell.\"  \n  \nWatching his only salvation walking away, Mortimer McMire screamed in anger,  \n\"you promised! Free me now! Please... I'm lonely and I can't move. I don't  \nknow what to do...\"  \n  \n-------------------------------------------------------------  \n  \n  \nBlue skies and cool wind felt good. But with this return was an uncertainty.  \nWhere was he and what of the demons still on the planet? Walking through the  \ngrass fields, the fallen bodies told him the story. The same that had happened  \nto the demons in Hell happened right here. The death of Baphomet had killed  \nany under his command.   \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;WELCOME TO BOISE was the first sign he saw near the highway. If one small   \nmiracle had taken place, it was that he was in his own country. The long  \nwalk into the city center was uneventful. No people, no monsters, no working  \nvehicles. Breaking into an electronics store, Fly was pleased to learn that  \nthe city's power plant was running. Working a stereo in some desperate attempt  \nto hear something good a desperate attempt to hope that this radio could  \npick up national broadcasts, the first news was grim.  \n  \nOrlando was destroyed. It was expected, really. The nukes had been falling   \nbefore the journey to Hell but it was still one that hit hard. His own  \nchildhood home was gone.  \n  \n-------------------------------------------------------------  \n  \n  \n\"What do you MEAN you're going to teleport out?\"  \n  \n\"That's exactly as I mean it, Corporal!\" Malcolm Betruger was clear in his  \nplan. \"Now that we no longer need the RF shield to block short-range  \nteleportation of the demons, we plan to use the remaining energy to transport  \nto Hell and return through the portal you used.\"  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;\"It should be safe. It's about two miles from where you'll arrive, can you   \nmake it on foot?\"  \n  \n\"Us science geeks aren't totally helpless. We can walk that far. With no demons  \nleft the trip should be uneventful,\" Betruger replied.  \n  \nTaggart answered, \"I'll meet you... wait. I don't know if you'll even end up  \nhere. It might be a random teleport!\"  \n  \n\"Anything is better than sitting in this bunker until the radiation levels  \nfall. Now then, we're off. Wish us luck!\" The radio went silent.  \n  \nTossing aside the receiver, Flynn Taggart decided to hunt for food. The rush  \nfrom the sphere was wearing off and it'd been some time since a proper meal  \nhad been eaten. Pushing through the streets, past bodies and bones, briefly   \nhe'd contemplated how one of the pink demons might taste if properly cooked.  \n  \nBreaking into a restaurant, the smell of rotting meat was overwhelming. This  \nwouldn't do at all for the weary soldier. Finally locating a proper grocery   \noutlet, canned goods would be a safer bet for food. Ripping open canned meat  \nand eating as much as he could, the Marine slumped down.   \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;This war was over. The world would heal in time. If only he lived long enough  \nto see that day. The irradiated zones were lost and despite modern cleanup  \nmethods may remain uninhabitable.   \n  \nHell had come to Earth and left behind the mark of the beast.  \n  \n\n"}