Day Three

[Doomguy]

I followed the the river downstream, back towards the sea and hopefully towards combat as it seemed that everyone in the gang war, and let no one tell you it was anything but, was thrown to the four winds and left to land wherever would be suitably dramatic for Shit King Karl Jak and his audience. Drama that I partook in and helped sustained. Had this not been so important to finished, I would just jumped off the nearest bridge just to spite the onlookers, but offing myself would have done me nothing when I still had work to do. I grumbled in annoyance at this dance we played part in until I made a turn north once I neared a danger zone.

I ran into someone along the way. A man in what looked to be in a full body metallic leotard. He had been enticed with the nearby building far too much for his own good when I cracked him across the skull. It was not my proudest moment, but I at least gave him a quick death. That's the least I could do, and yet I feel like it was the most I could do as well. Destruction, and nothing else.

The building he had been staring at was destroyed beyond all belief. A war torn hovel that had the scent of the dead and signs of battle everywhere. Of course it would, as I saw the blood stains that littered the place. What little identity could be gleamed from the ruins was found when I looked within once of the few remaining windows, and my heart sunk into the pit of my stomach. A model of a red cross laid on the floor from where it was knocked from on the wall. I had just killed someone in front of a hospital. A place of healing had just been the scene for a vicious and cowardly attack. I stood there in wonder of just how low I was to sink in pursuit of my goal. I shook my head, at myself and towards the scene, and dragged the body in.

I found the others. The bodies that died here before. Two of them, while broken and ripped open as if to find something inside, were arranged as if respectfully by a comrade. The third like them in massive power armor was simply decked on the floor, body ruined by an explosive. You can't have three grave for three people, someone has to bury survivor. A few others, probably the attackers, were strewed across the battleground as well. With a little help from half a gurney, I managed to get all the bodies lined up.

I watched them, wondered how they fought and died, and then soon wondered why they fought and died. Was it to prove themselves, to others or to themselves, was it for the prize? Perhaps it was for some greater purpose. While they were in truth outside this hellhole of an island and still around, there death did not mean nothing. It was a commitment to a cause, whatever it might be. And that was something to respect.

I stood at watch, and I saluted the fallen.

When I left the building and headed down the road, I saw him. The golden armored blondy. It seemed so unlikely that we would see each other again so soon, and yet I waked with him down the paved path. I glanced down at my hammer, and gripped its handle.

There was only one way this could end.

----

Although I now limped away from the misguided attack set with bullet holes in my flank and with not even a knife to deal with them, this is when I truly felt alive. The pains that I have suffered through Hell had come back in memories, and I flashed a smile behind my visor.

I could not be stopped. Not until I was knee deep in the dead.