Into Dante's Inferno

[Doomguy]

Heaven or Hell, whatever may come

I had once been told that, given enough time and not enough to do, that any man could be driven insane. "Idle hands are the devil's playground", or something to that effect. I had through it was bullshit. So long as there was something, a person could strive off boredom and keep themselves sane from the ever present questions we don't want answered. But it had been a day since I left Lieutenant Jones' office and had not yet heard world from him or any of his lackeys, and since then I had spent my entire time focused on the mission. I took a local apartment for a room (they were happy to have a "celebrity" staying with them) and locked myself in. Maps and manuals were printed and penned to the wall, equipment vital to the operation laid uselessly in a pile in a corner until needed. With three years of experience as a glorified mall cop for for the UAC's waste processing plant on Mars, I tried to map out all the logical guard routes on the blue print as well as where possibly heavier reinforcements could go through, but every small detail soon ballooned into a life of it's own. As I sat there on the end of bed I saw the extent of madness that happened over the course of several hours: that was one a single map and a few pages turned into a collage of notes, drawings, maps, and more pins and string that I thought I would ever need in a life time. It dawned on me that it wasn't boredom that would get you. People always preferred to do something, even if it was nothing of value. It was the obsession that consumed you. That you trapped yourself into a maze of thoughts until you have shunted yourself into another reality of your creation, and real life lost meaning. it was the not enough that would get you, because although it could not sustain your sanity it was enough to force yourself into its entirety. Enough rope to hang yourself, as it were.

I tired to shake it off. Told myself to go out and get some fresh air. Spend a few quarters at the arcade I saw across the street. Turn on the TV and watch some midgets wrestling. Anything to unwind myself from my self inflicted prison. But the mission took precedent. This would be just like any other briefing: absorb information, follow the plan, completely ignore the plan when everything inevitably went awry, then fight your way out with or to the objective. Simple, really.

Unfortunately, despite my efforts to go in with as much knowledge I could gather, the map I had stolen under the Empire's nose was incomplete. Or rather, it seemed as if parts of it were intentionally left in flux. Detailed drawings of the first few levels included every wall, cell, and security measure. Nothing left to the imagination. But as you went farther down increasingly large swathes of the blueprint was large generic blocks labeled as "containment area". Not even as censored blocks for certain eyes only, this was intentionally done by the architect. Were these areas just one giant room that they dump the prisoners into? That seemed so unlikely, as much of the structure around the areas were designed for supporting equipment inside them. Worse still, in the margin notes were mentioned of motorized walls and moving access points. It wasn't just some trumped up prison the Empire had at the horizon, but a hellish labyrinth of fiendish medieval torture mixed with modern day security.

It might have seen daunting to those used to the idea of what a prison is normally considered as, but to me it would be the Deimos Base all over again. A metallic, claustrophobic, and shifting bundle of tunnels and room where around every corner and behind every wall and door was something out to get you. If it had less demons that Deimos did, then it would be far less stress on my part.

But it did not leave me confident that I would find Sheila's sister. If prisoners weren't separated, then she may very well have been killed, shanked or beaten by insane primes or powerful enemies of the state. If Impel Down was as dangerous as everyone said, she could be nothing more than a smear on the ground at that very moment. If the Empire was as cruel as I suspected, she may have just offed herself. And if in spite of all that she was still alive, I would not have a clue where to look across the levels and many hiding spots there in. And that's before I had to figure out how the in the Hell I was suppose to make my way out. I could get in by myself with not a whole lot of problem, but if I had to drag her back out that was a massive hitch in the plan. Choprot was suppose to make it easy by parking outside, but he's gone dark. Can't rely on him. Not that I did in the first place, to be completely honest.

Break in, find the girl, get out. What could possibly be hard about that? Nothing. Everything.

After what seemed like the long wait to death and the third I checked my equipment, I got the call. Jones sent the message himself over the radio in quick spurts.

"Job's Done. 5th level. Good Luck" After that was only radio silence. I didn't have the chance to say goodbye myself, but I just took that as our chance to part ways a never see each other again. I took everything I needed, a headed down to the docks.

----

The late night sky was as clear as always, stars and a waned moon shined down and reflected upon the rippling surface of the Vasty Deep's unending ocean. Waves crash upon the shore, sea foam pushed up as far as it could go before finally pulled back into the whole again. Although the bright light of Costa Del Sol still dance behind me as the inhabitants partied into midnight, the docks themselves are largely abandoned. Only late arrivals, night fishermen, and moonlit romantics walked the wooden planks. They didn't pay much attention to me, which was better off for everyone.

Rather than my usual gear and equipment, I wore the UAC's standard environmental suit. Keeps you dry and alive in terrible conditions, but more importantly it comes with its own air takes and has very little metal in it. Most of my equipment had been rendered down back into omnilium and my armor broken down into its component parts and stuffed into a water proof bag. A DPV was under my arms, which was going to get me across the water faster and less tiring that swimming. I looked out over the black water of the night and tossed the bag in first. A nearby fisherman moved from his rod for a moment to watch me with a look on his face.

"What are you up to?" he asked, most of his diligence still on his line rather than me.

"Late night cram hunting" I lied as I jumpped in. If he figured me out, he didn't seem to care.

"Well, don't head out that way" He point out to my destination in the distance "Empire has it locked down with who knows what"

"I'll remember that" I mentioned, and then headed out on my way.