Day Four

[Doomguy]

A massive battle is not something you notice just from seeing it. It's that foul wind of death that blows in it's wake, the crackle of fires and screams of terror that drown out your senses and the smoke that chokes the life out of you. I could felt the uprooting of earth and heard buildings flattened, and the flapping of wings of great beasts. By the time I managed to make it up a tall enough tree, I saw the clearing next to that WAS once a restaurant, and was now the site of complete and total anarchy. The scope of my nailgun, of which was far out of the effective range to take pots shots with and made me wish I had taken the stretchy fucker's sniper rifle, let met get some better focus on the turmoil, but with only the moonlight filtered through sparse clouds could I see the shapes move the thick darkness. The occasional illumination of fire and flash of an explosive or plasma would give some detail to the fighters, only for them to be engulfed and snuffed by that same light.

Dragons, and I mean real fucking dragons, were dogfighting over the entire battle while their riders took shots at each other any chance they could. One pelted out automatic fire some some kind, the golden prick my best bet, then the other fired the iconic green plasma ball that I knew so well. I gripped the handle of my gun until my knuckles went white and my teeth grounded into each other. That was a BFG. That's MY weapon, no one else. I yelled and screamed at the dragon riding douche bag who was firing USSMC property, a completely useless rant as I doubt my voice could carry half a click away. Fuck Karl, I thought, he stole my weapon. Even though I know I saw it disappear in my hand after I had used it, and it was more likely another weapon smuggled in with everyone else, but an adrenaline soaked mind was poor for logical reasoning.

Eventually the battle died down after one last massive bomb leveled out the rest of the diner. Quick as it came it was gone, and the shapes retreat back into the forest around them. Bush fires and the moon high in the sky was the light that shown the blood slick battleground and the craters that remained. Who won wasn't my concern, but our malevolent time piece counted out who died in the fight's wake with his usual sadistic glee. So few left, and after what they had already suffered through, then I was left deal with the survivors like a plague through the weak herd.

This was my chance to sweep this for myself. A wicked grin spread across my face, my teeth bared under what was left of my helmet. In the corners of my mind I imagined the situations, pitched battles and painful injuries inflicted upon my foe. I relished in it then, to see my fists clinched around the spines and guts of them, red blood up to my elbows.

I had lost myself. And only would seeing those who stood before me rend and torn limb from limb. I feel ashamed of that now, but I did not care at the moment.

I climbed down from my roost so fast that the tree branches snapped under my bulk. I landed on my feet and pain shot up my leg from my bad ankle, but pain was temporary. Pain was meaningless, Hell's worst could stop then so too would my own body fail. I wolfed down the last of my MRE and water. I didn't even bother to cook it, just squeezed the sludge down my throats and washed it down. I absentmindedly reloaded the ranged weapon and grabbed my hammer laid next to the tree trunk. Armed with what I could, I rushed down the forest path, towards the site of the battle and my conquest.

Nothing short of victory would be allowed, I swore under my breath. The morning would rise, the dawn sun would overlook the sunset of Dante's Abyss. It would all end in fire and blood, and I would be a top the bodies.