Chapter Text
A tall man walks through the doorway, silent as he takes a few steps into a dark and damned foundry. His powerful body dressed in green armor, he takes a look around the space and sees something that has a smile spread across his face. A hunched over demon only feet away is just begging to be killed.
Though the target of his glee cannot see this as the explosion of a shotgun goes off. The shot rips through its hellish head to announce, and warn, the rest that their ends had arrived. A crowd of imps with orange skin and glowing yellow eyes mix with the zombie flesh of the possessed, all turning to their fallen comrade. Moans of the dead cut short as the high pitch screeches of others cause a large wave of hellspawn charge. Another blast comes as the lone human rushes forward and brings a heavy boot down on the already destroyed skull of his first kill. Silent when he runs as if being chased, stomping the metal floor toward what any sane mortal would consider certain death.
But all the Slayer sees is his next target, and doesn’t waste time thinking about how it used to be a worker that helped run the building. A fist grips the reanimated corpse’s throat as the gas canister embedded in its torso hisses. Like a rag doll tossed by an angry child, it sails across the room to collide with the others. The walking bomb goes off as it knocks down bodies, and the man takes aim. The pull of the trigger rips through the chest of an imp that readies a fireball.
The body falls as he sprints past and clenches his jaw. His gaze is already on a large individual in broken white armor who rushes at him. The possessed points a mound of flesh wrapped around a gun at the lone living being. The arm that holds the weapon remaining steady as it acts more ready to kill than in life. None of the undead's humanity left when they meet and it snarls, showing rotting teeth. The former human about to fire.
As if he had planned this very act, the marine pulls out a grenade and shoves it between the creature’s jaws. A well-aimed punch sends it to the ground. A leap and the pieces of the monster’s skull go flying in every direction as the fireball tears it and those around it to pieces. The explosion helping him sail through the air and onto another, crushing its rib cage with his feet.
Now, for the rest of them…
By the end, the one they fear, The Doom Slayer, stands tall. Looking no different from when he had entered the Argent Foundry—save the blood that sticks to his armor and boots. Back straight and soft breathing show this was the same as any fight with the Hell beasts before. After countless battles, it was hard to be fazed by the sight of gore and limbs that would fly with each round. Or find any sign of this ending as he checks his bullets and keeps going. This was hardly the beginning or conclusion. Not after the rude awakening he was greeted to on the red planet.
The Slayer could not be certain how long he had slumbered. Days or years, it felt the same after being locked away by those he had fought for ages. Either way, the stone box and metal chains that once kept him were no more. The possessed who hoped to end the conflict before it began painted the floor before he even got his armor. The wonderful sense of them crushed by his bare hands not leaving after he put on the gloves.
Though as he walks through sets of sliding doors and makes his way deeper inside, this excitement gets replaced with anger upon seeing the state of the building. Destroyed platforms and twisted railing are only the beginning of the disaster that he was told to prevent from becoming worse. The smug owner of this facility warned a meltdown had begun… But this was turning into a full incident. The molten metal was no longer in the vats or being moved by the usual means. Like a lake of fire, it pooled far down below, boiling and churning as it illuminated the place better than the lights that hung above. And it was throwing around fiery heat that could boil water in a second. The hot waves tried to burn through his armor, licking at the green plating.
The Slayer brushes off the flimsy attempt as more beasts arrive. Bared teeth and unholy forms rushing to be the first to fall by his hands. As if any of them would be the one to end his reign of terror upon the demons. Or prevent his journey as he soon finds his way to the closest control panel and begins fixing what this company started. This not changing as he repeats the process on the next console. Fight, kill, push a button, ignore the bodies of the humans who were lucky enough to die from the monsters instead of becoming spawn and getting murdered for a second time.
But then he returns to the bubbling heavy metals, and a new face shows up. A hulking bastard that likes to stomp around and will look great when its boney head turns into a bloody stain on the floor. A hell knight stands before him, its fleshy body and bone plating painted orange by the lake under them. Claws on hands and feet tearing the place apart even more while ground-shaking footsteps carry it closer.
However, the gap is closed as The Doom Slayer rushes forward. Mouth open wide for a second to suck in a deep breath of air and toss aside every other lesser demon. The path mowed with a gun and fist before the creature does what it knows best. A powerful leap, and the knight sails high over the heads of those still standing. A shadow is cast where the beast falls to the ground, the man firing while in the shade. The shots land several times as it touches down and sends out a shock wave. The Slayer stumbling backward to catch his footing and continue the assault. Maintaining a short distance to keep up the deadly dance and make sure it is full of bullets when he is done.
A twist turns him out of the way of another jump and onto a different platform. The Slayer sinks a few inches, jolting him. A quick glance over a shoulder shows there is a sudden drop not far behind. The flooring broken and the railing hangs like a useless rope.
The creature seems to notice this with its eyeless face and growls, wasting little time to shorten the gap and attack. Each stomp of the two shaking and jostling the floor underneath. The creak and groan of the metal they stand on threatens to bring them both down. Neither caring when they growl and land blows.
The sound of gunfire and the ping of bullets hitting at their feet makes both turn to a possessed security guard. Gun raised to fire again before ducking behind the shield it carries. Unable to do much else as the thing stands on the other end of the chasm, controlled just well enough to not walk off and finish this pointless meeting itself.
A solid punch connects with the hell knight, sending it backward. The annoyance that is a leap away once more in the Slayer’s sights.
There is nothing to make him hesitate. A crouch and grunt send him flying to land on the other side. A quick roll and the target is now within punting distance.
The roar of the previous enemy, however, grabs the human’s attention when the knight jumps across too. As he turns back to act and only have one opponent, it hits the platform. Clenched fingers grab the edge of the security’s shield while a fist wraps around his ankle. The weight of the landing and its twisting to stay balanced pulls him down and to the ground. The man’s grip on the possessed guard gone with a grunt and thud.
Then stunned when the heavy barrier slams down on his helmet. In no way able to harm the Slayer, it comes down again and again as if it would break if the zombie went at it long enough. Not given a chance to hit back when the hand leaves his leg for a second.
Only for the weight of a speeding truck to hit with full force on his spine. A sound of shock cut off when the last blow lands on his head. The anger that was before boiling inside bursting out as the metal would if he didn’t finish this soon.
With a quick roll out of the way, the Slayer grabs the shield and yanks it out of the other’s grip. No thought is required to have it cleave off the attacker’s head. Or tossed at the hell knight to have it do more damage to the boney skull. Both flying off the edge and plunging into the lake with a satisfying thunk.
The groan of bending metal has him turn back to the others and realize they all had been waiting. With a crack of the knuckles and a smug grin, he does what he knows best: ripping and tearing. None will miss out on his gory treatment. Not a single ready to consider fleeing as he charges with a smile on his face. A leap and scream from the nearest having him regain his composure and enter the odd peace that comes with crushing these monsters beneath his boot.
Only to be cut short when the familiar moan and creak of the platforms echo in the space. The sound of the ground ready to give way has all pause and look down. If for just the briefest of moments, all have a flash of fear cross their eyes. The primal instinct to flee going through every living soul.
But that cannot be sated. Not when the second after, the whole platform collapses. The floor falls from under their feet as the entire group of fighters plummets toward the swirling pool far below. For another moment, the Doom Slayer falls with the rest. The gun in his hand held tight as the room grows hotter and hotter.
Then the hesitation gets shaken off, and he rights himself, sailing for the nearest zombie and using it for a bit of grip. The body is all he needs to prevent being slowed down when both hit the liquid, and he springs off. A groan is cut short as it is pushed below the surface, and he lands on a section of floor that survived the heat. The splash and screams of those who could not do the same like rocks chucked into a pond. The hollow thunk and sizzle of bodies akin to a horrid rain as those who are still alive watch. Where the dead sink, fires burst from the liquid that give a feeling that all are familiar with.
However, like with any battle, this doesn’t last too long before a creature takes a swing and the Slayer is back into the fray. Claws inches from his chest when he counters and punches through its ribs. A satisfying crack comes as he rips out a fistful of organs and sends the corpse flying. Blood spraying everywhere as the surrounding arena becomes a little more crowded. With shouts from his opponents that he knows call for his death, they meet. Nothing able to stop this.
Not even the siren that warns of the meltdown. A monotone voice blasting overhead orders any remaining staff to evacuate, the entire building unstable. Then adding that any here would be useless if their remains get burned up, the scientist unable to use them for experimentation in such a state.
But none of the fighters care. Once the warning is over, forgetting it ever happened. Two bloody fists from the Slayer fly in every direction as the need to kill takes over and the man rushes at a hell razer that is too close to shoot. The arm cannon it pulls back torn off, and the limb bashed into the inhuman skull. A smug grin for the rest when he searches for more. Panting as he lets the high of his bloodlust carry him forward.
The battle is, however, cut short. All caught in the middle of their attacks when the place explodes. With a blinding flash of light and boiling metal shot straight up, the entire building bursts like a can. The foundry gone in the blink of an eye.
****
A heavy weight threatens to crush the marine. For a moment stunned, he remains in a strange position. Unmoving and unthinking, it takes the sound of a male voice to jolt the Doom Slayer from the violence-induced trance.
The words of the AI, VEGA, in his helmet saying, “It seems you took a lot of damage from the explosion. If I am to help you, you must get out of the melted steel and return to a standing structure for a health dispenser’s care.”
The Slayer only grunts in response, slicing through the thick and quickly hardening liquid in whatever direction would take him away from there. Powerful swings of both arms and sharp breaths in his helmet are all he has to focus on as it grows more difficult to move the further he travels. The pain that develops with the burning heat ignored for now. That would be easy to fix once out of here.
Those fucking demons... They would pay if any of them survived.
The harsh orange light of Mars’ expanse, at last, comes into view. Head breaking the surface, the man has just enough time to arch his back and expose it to the skies above. Everything below his spine then stuck. The cooled steel now acted as a prison, keeping him from moving anymore. All four limbs and neck encased in the large mound as he looks around and growls. Each movement stilled before it could begin as the struggle becomes more desperate. Eyes wide and jaws clenched behind the visor, the weight of the metallic jail is too much when in this strange position. Like a corralled animal, he was caught. And the harder he fought, the more futile it felt. Any weapon that might help unavailable, if there was one at all.
Which only has a group of demons roaming the surface take notice. Sixteen imps and zombies in total, they all turn toward the source of the noise. And even from the great distance they were at, the man could see the surprise and disbelief on their faces. Then the smile on the imps’ lips as they hunch over and run closer. The former humans right behind as they all circle the hill that imprisons the Slayer; the nimbler creatures screeching and jumping on top to investigate. A growl has them leap away when the human struggles again. A few blinking as they brace for a fight.
Then relaxing when they see it truly trapped him. Any weapons and fireballs are lowered after a minute as nothing changes, and they look around. Sat on the ground as if waiting instead of taking this perfect opportunity to do something.
“Kill...! I’ll crush you! Tear you to pieces!” screams the marine as he again cannot escape the accidental snare. “NO!”
The cry echoes across the barren land, having the watching monsters come closer and stare. A few touching the visible armor when a second shout threatens to shake the ground.
They all stop and turn as the sound of heavy footsteps come from a hill off to the side. Multiple large fighters in the form of a few possessed security, several hell razers, and a couple of hell knights arrive on the scene. None looking ready to attack as they also perform an investigation. All staring for a moment before they come forward as one and the razers lift their weapons at the Slayer’s rear. The man unable to move as the cannons power up and fire.
But instead of hitting and killing him like they did the rest of the facility, all they do is focus on the hill around his hips. The heated beams melt the thinner layer of metal that covers the back end of him. Their shots end before they do any more damage, letting the melted steel cool. The entire mob is quiet for a minute as they slowly form a circle. The marine growls as he watches them move, wanting to clench his fists as they gawk.
“Hellspawn!” he spits.
Not a single one responds to this, and all he can do is twist his head as he sees an orange blob walk behind him. A sound of metal clanking echoes before he stiffens and the others cheer. His breathing faster when the armor on his hips falls off to expose the underpants underneath. About to hyperventilate when it tears these apart to reveal the round globes that were until now hidden.
The effort from before doubled as the cool air hits his exposed ass while the sharp point of a claw rakes over the flesh. The cold area growing larger until it reaches the end of the visible part of the pants. A howl heard when the whole bottom gets dismantled and his pale skin is on full display. The entire group becoming louder as the hand grips the belt, something pressing against the crack.
The voice of VEGA now asks, “Is there anything I can do? There are about twenty-five demons in your presence, but you are not attacking. Did you let them alter your armor on purpose? Is there no way to escape your current sit—”
A sharp pain explodes from the Slayer’s ass and cuts off the AI's question. A flash of red clouding his vision in the brief second of confusion. Whipping his head around to yell at the cause as he sees the imp bury its cock into his hole. Teeth bared and face lowering as it plunges inside and bucks its hips.
More agony bursting from the stab, as if it wants to tear him wide open. Both hands have a firm grip on the belt as it fucks him like he was here for it to use. A grunt when it does this a third time and goes deeper. Quickly sinking in to the base with a groan before speeding up. The long shaft buried as it lowers and spreads its legs as if to make sure not to miss a moment of this. Then pulls out, slamming inside with about as much mercy as either side would show on the battlefield. This time, hitting something that burns, and he roars.
Any part of the Slayer that could move shakes as the pain is nothing compared to the pure anger ready to explode. Each slap of the demon’s legs on his ass only causing it to increase. Every groan and grunt having him yell, “I will kill. Kill you!” until the rest drown him out with cheers.
A few grip his helmet when he whips his head away and they come closer, bringing his attention to their shafts flopping around. The red or black or pale flesh swelling and pulsing while they watch their weak partner thrust with vigor. What would make most beg for it to end only having him spit and promise their deaths. An inferno of spite for all to hear as the AI remains silent to this assault. Like it knew it was pointless to inquire.
All growing quiet when a howl comes from the imp as it stops all the way inside. A pause to ask himself what is going on when a fiery hot liquid shoots in the Slayer’s hole. The blazing hell seed shoots all over his walls as the shaft throbs, marking the man’s ass. Thick come filling him as his eyes widen. At a loss for words as it yanks the length out without a care and the load oozes out afterward. The warmth leaks out on the hill as the crowd creates noise. And the next walks over to take its spot.
The hell knight that gets on top is far worse in every respect. Not just the girth’s thicker size makes this round torture, but the claws that dig into his back. The points digging in deeper as it ignores the handle the other had to rake them down his spine. Each time it went in starting from the shoulders and cutting all the way down to his hips. Any sound the Slayer produces has the hands and feet shake and sink inside more.
The fucking becomes rougher each time it leaves a mark. The wild thrusts testing his body's limit as the Slayer cannot escape. All had stories about how much he could take, and this one seemed ready to prove how true these were. The constant smack and grunts soon all he has to focus on as they fill his ears.
Then the groan of the creature’s finish as a larger load fills his hole and takes up more room in his guts. Afterward, a growl when it pulls out with more anger, leaving him gaping for the next knight to continue this. Using the come as lube as it continues as if the last monster never finished. A grunt when it lays its hands flat on his shoulders and twists to jostle the human underneath as heavy balls smack on his ass cheeks. Acting like it was going to mate him when powerful jaws grab his helmet and push his head forward and closer to the waiting cocks of the watching lesser demons.
The Slayer has the perfect view when the owners wrap their fists around the shafts and stroke the entire lengths. Arms pumping fast as if they had until the bigger ones finished to get their own orgasms. The flaccid members soon erect as the knight hits something and the marine bellows, his anger beyond the limits at which he could properly show them.
The Doom Slayer’s voice cracks when he hollers, “I will break you. Shred those off! Watch you bleed! Rip and tear them and crush! Right under my boot!”
This causes the giant demon using his hole to grip the nape of his neck and force his head into the dust with a sigh. A third load shooting inside as the man seethes.
Spit and sounds that become more and more inhuman fill his helmet when the hell razers take their spot. The noises akin to a rabid animal while each fuck him like they had been pent up and needed release. Their paces wild and uneven. Their hands grip his belt while they punch and pound him with their guns. Heavy breathing in his ears as they reach deeper than the knights. Enlarged members hitting something as the pain is long forgotten. The sensation pushed to the corner of the man’s mind as he pretends his body feels just the suffering.
But that means nothing after a few minutes when the first group finishes jerking off and covers his visor and back in hot ropes. The Slayer silent as he stares at the white globs running down into the dirt. Any words he knew were not worthy of the pure ire that comes as he shakes from more than what the razers do to him. The wind which cools the mess soaking his shirt forgotten when a few more take their turn. Right as they add to the drying seed, the latest razer spills so much it gushes out on its lap. The last strike knocks his skull around in the helmet while the messy creature retreats and the next one inspects his body with a rough hand.
The search is not too long, then it uses his torso as a punching bag and fuck toy. At this point, the Slayer has stopped moving despite his masked, furious expression. The face he wore was hidden by several layers of demonic come, but still burned hot enough to set a forest on fire.
Until a new demon changes that. A fat head hits something inside him. Mouth hanging open when it feels good. Such humiliation causing his body to grow hotter when the man realizes the zombie security guards are, at last, given their turn.
The more human abominations are an ease to accommodate in comparison. Their girths were not as harsh when they smack and punch, pounding his ass while doing the same to his head. As if to mock that he can do nothing, each beating the spot that has him shudder.
Blinking when a load that hits his helmet distracts him. Gaze flicking in that direction to see the circle jerk is over.
Right before the final possessed orgasms and pulls out. The Slayer left open, messy, and gaping when it fixes its ruined uniform and steps away. His eyes watching them all before he gets a glimpse of the mess on his outfit and snaps out of the slight daze he was put into.
“You fucking scum!” the Doom Slayer hisses, foaming at the mouth. Spitting out, “Your guts will—”
The first shot of energy from a hell razer hits the metal a short distance from where he is stuck. More adding to the hill until it is melted and moldable. Others now moving to push it over his exposed body. The burning molten steel once more put on top of him to muffle the shouts of revenge that he promised each one of them.
The last thing the man sees before his prison fully covers him is a second group arriving with ropes. Growls heard as if shouting orders before the Slayer senses the hill move. To where he can only guess, but having a clue... His vacation away from Hell far shorter than he expected.