Can you write Supersoldier Y/N who's basically Winter Soldier but due to him having been brainwashed, they're giving him an opportunity in the Phoenix Program as a second chance? (Cause we need some love interests Invisigal and Malevola)
Y/N sits at a bench before a mission…
Invisigal sits down next to them…
Invisigal: first mission nerves?
Y/N: I got a lot of red in my ledger and…I want to erase it
I'm pretty sure you know the story. Everybody does. Chosen Hero, Demon King, they fight, save the day, yada yada. Everybody supposedly lives happily ever after. Everything sunshine and roses. Puppies and farting rainbows. But... but it's NOT.
It's really fucking NOT.
I used to love reading stories like that. They were escapism. Grand adventures in a terrible, grey, slowly crushing hellscape of a world. But... but, FUCK. At least there weren't drauger! No demon wolves or skeleton soldiers! Or the FUCKING little flying bastards. God. I HATE those ones the most.
They have sharp, needle-y little claws and teeth like a SHARK fucked a TREE THRESHER. And they scream. Just... yowl and yowl in this ear splitting high pitch like they're trying to DEAFEN you ON TOP of trying to rip you apart.
That life was peaceful.
I was a fool to wish for anything else.
I am not the Chosen One. I'm not even a supporting character. I remember this bullshit little yarn, and I? Am NO WHERE fucking in it. I am just... just some rando, in this struggle of demons and Gods. The child of Some Dude. We... we had chickens. Fat, happy, lil hens.
I remember being ENTRANCED. I had lived all my life, before, in suburban sprawl. So chickens? Strutting around and chasing bugs? Tiny me was hypnotized.
It saved my life.
I half wish it didn't, some days.
That I died, sudden and without the chance to truely comprehend, along side my family. That my neighbors eldest hadn't seen me by the coop. Grabbed me desperately as he ran for his life. Our entire FUCKING village...
There were six survivors.
I was one of them.
And it's... it's all just? FLAVOR TEXT for the Chosen One's tale of Glory. A reason for why she's so NEEDED. So BELOVED. Look how AWESOME she is! Saintess, because when are they NOT? Hero, because it's all about HER. A god damned LOVE STORY thrown in, because THAT'S important, while people are suffering! Dying!
Are? You? KIDDING ME!?
Legends speak of a "Hero's Party". I know damn well it's true. That it WILL succeed. But FUCK that. FUCK waiting for her to "be ready"! To gather allies and turn from some sheltered little rose, into the warrior we ACTUALLY NEED. It's my world too. I was the one who had to help dig out survivors! Tend to the wounded! Fight off swarms! Hold back the dead!
I...! I was the one who had to LOOK PEOPLE IN THE EYE and... AND-!
B-Because sometimes? SOMETIMES?! Those bites DON'T HEAL. Can't heal! They are filled with so much demonic power, that the only thing they CAN do is corrupt. Fester. Poison. Sometimes you're already DEAD and nothing short of the oh so precious SAINTESS could possibly save you.
But she's not HERE... is she?
So you have a choice.
If you're lucky? It's JUST a limb. A chunk of flesh. But more often then not... well... The lucky ones have time to say goodbye. The unlucky ones get to be twisted and used against their friends. Their family's. And if you care. If you CARE AT ALL? You put them down before that happens.
Because they wouldn't want that.
It... it feeds a HATE in me. An ANGER.
No, that's not right... it's more like? It feeds...
A RAGE.
An ugly, burning thing. That's hollowed out my chest. Wrapped around my bones. Fueled by the memories of every innocent I failed to save. By the fear and the suffering, that just keeps dragging on and on and ON. An endless slog that seems designed to break men down. Destroy us.
I feel like it's killing the humanity in me. The kindness I once had. Like I am burning away everything but purpose. And will have nothing left when I am done. IF I am ever done. It... it used to scare me.
Now I am to angry, too tired, to be afraid.
Let me die. I do not CARE. So long as I TAKE THEM WITH ME. Burn them ALL. My brothers in arms, my sisters of war, those that fight and fight and FIGHT? They feel the same. We didn't fucking WAIT. Refused to watch the slaughter. Gaining ground only to lose it, losing ground only to claw it back.
Holding the line.
We can't actually KILL him. We know that. Only the Saintess can actually fucking END this nightmare. But his monsters? Those still fall too steel. And if we are to die regardless, why NOT in defense of our homes?
We've managed to push a path, deep into the Demonic lands. A spear point to stab the heart of HIS damned empire. We... we can hold it. MUST hold it. At all costs. For that flimsy, weak willed, half trained NITWIT of a child. So when she FINALLY gets off her ass and stops making goo-goo eyes at her trainers? She can come and finish the job.
Then get crowned queen of forever or something.
I don't know, I don't CARE. I'm going to buy some damn chickens. Fill a yard with them. Honor my parents and be the best damn farmer this world has ever SEEN.
Another crash against our shields. Screams as someone's arm breaks. As someone else is savaged through a crack in our barrier, as something probably gives. I slam my spear forward. Vital point. Vital point. Ignore the strain. The way your arm feels like a giant is stepping on it. Like some is trying to rip the shield from your grip. Hold... HOOOOLD!
Go for the eyes. Aim for the throat. Kidneys. Arteries, arteries, heart! The spear is wretched from my grip. I shout for another. Reach blindly, trusting my countrymen. I feel the grip of another one pressed into my hand. I slam my spear forward.
The fight goes on.
For hours.
It was some sort of ape-bear chimera things this time. But bigger and with spikes. No ones quite sure if they're in the "fucked up monstrosities" book yet. I'M certainly too dead on my feet to check. I sit an eat some fucking soup. Mmmmm, rations soup. Technically edible! My favorite flavor.
In the distance, sits the Demon King's fancy ass doom castle.
Any closer? And HE might be inspired to actually "deal" with us. I can't wait for the day it-An explosion of noise from the command tent. Everyone's heads whip around to stare, alarmed. But... but that didn't sound... BAD shouting. It takes us a long, long moment. It had honestly been YEARS since some of us had HEARD such a noise. But...?
W...was that?
Excitement?
I passed off my soup to a newbie. He honestly needed it more anyway. Told him to eat. Then got up and headed for command. Something was happening. As I got close, the flap was all but ripped open. A commander, actually? Smiling!? What the fresh hell?
A commander looking for someone. Spots me. Waves me over and in. I jog over. The tent is practically HUMMING with excitement. And there, on the tabke with the war map? Is an old, OLD dagger. Very... magical girl, in design. Flourishes, sparkling, and lovely dispite being what must be... what, centuries old? Worn to hell and back? What IS that?
It's the weapon of a previous Chosen One.
A Holy Blade.
Holy Shit. HOW. Where?! Where AND HOW!? I thought the royal family snapped all those fuckers up too show off! If not them, the Temple! I'm met with seni-hysterical laughs of disbelief.
A PRIEST stole it.
Nearly DIED doing so. Temple's probably FURIOUS. Gonna come to get it BACK, most likely. We're gonna have to move FAST. We're gonna only get ONE chance at this. I nod. Ready for whatever command needs me to do. Hold off some holy knights? Punch a priest? I'll get... SUPER excommunicated, but? Fuck it. If it saves lives.
No.
No they need me to wield the blade. I'm sorry?? WHAT.
It's apparently Maiden Locked. Fucking... Maidens Only! Got lucky? No holy weapon for you! Married but a virgin? Weaponless! Oh, fffffuck yooooou, creepy perv deities. There are LIVES ON THE LINE, in this, a GOD DAMNED WAR, and you LOCK the import weapons behind "mint condition pu-"!!!
The commander cuts of my, frankly, VERY understandable rant.
Hands on my shoulders. Looks me in the eyes. Will I Do This? I would have to take the knife and sneak behind enemy lines. Into the demon kings castle. And try to get the jump on him. NO ONE would be able to go after me. Help WOULD NOT be coming. If I fail... that's it. Game over. The demons would have me.
I laugh.
It is... not a cheerful sound. Not like it once was.
Is it even a choice? Of course I am. Frankly? I hope it hurts. I hope it's slow. Hurts every second and feels like eons. That he BURNS from the inside out. I'm gonna make him EAT IT.
Waiting until night would be suicide. They get stronger at night. Can blend in to the shadows. But they're cocky. They won't expect an attack just before that. So twilight is when I'll strike. Afternoon, when I head out. I... I leave my gear behind. Say my goodbyes.
I'm not the Chosen One.
Just some farmer's daughter with a grudge.
It don't think I'll be making it back. Don't really expect to even succeed. But by the gods... I plan to HURT him. Every piece we chip away, is one the soul behind us doesn't have to fight. I do this not for me. But for the child who will never know the FEAR that I did.
I will die so they don't have too.
The castle is dark. Humming with power I can FEEL but can not understand. Grand and sweeping architecture. Great windows that should let in far more light then they do. A blood red carpet upon bone white floors. The walls are black. It... some how merely stepping inside, seems to suck all color but red from the world. All heat.
I see no one here.
But I hear whispers.
I tighten my grip around the weapon. The only thing that feels WARM. These hallways are designed to make you feel small, I can tell at a glance. I refuse to give in. I am a farmer. A soldier. I do not CARE about your damn castle! I dig deep into my memories, keeping to the walls, and try to remember where the hero found her foe.
I trace the path in my head. Cut out the lost wandering as best I can. Right slightly, then forward, I think. If I am wrong, I can double back. Follow the book's path exactly. I move slow. As quite as I can.
Still... I find no one.
No servants, no gaurds, no resistance of any kind. Something like fear sighs like a specter down my spine, cold and vague. Something is not right. I do not let down my gaurd... but the longer it persists? The worse my paranoia grows.
Finally. The throne room. Magnificent beyond measure, in blood red and monochrome. Rare touches of gold glint and catch the eye. Stained glass giving it all a surreal scene from high above. The runner at my feet plush enough to render my foot steps silent. It is red... so very, very red.
The Demon King leans against one fist, resting on his throne, magnificent and beautiful like a statue brought to life. Carved of pale ivory and obsidian. Just as feeling as stone. A monster. Living testament that what's inside counts most of all. For inside him? Is nothing but a void. A malicious PIT.
I will see him dead.
On silent feet, I sneak forward. Only to freeze at the foot of the stairs to his dais, my eyes locked on his face. Horror seeps through me.
An amused smirk.
"Oh don't stop NOW, you're so close." Breaks the silence. Golden eyes open, lazy and entertained. "By all means. Try."
My grip on the dagger felt almost painful, for how hard I was gripping it. He... he wasn't even bothering to move. Didn't even see me as a threat. F..Fine. Fine then! If it was a mistake on his part or NOT, I would TAKE IT. Any chance. Any chance at ALL.
The pressure of that gaze felt immense. But I tilted my head up, put my shoulders back, and moved. One step. Then another. Up the stairs. Onto the dais. Forward, slowly. I paused, just beyond his immediate reach. Not that it was anything like real safety. I stared. Shaking. Knowing I was shaking and unable to stop.
He sat splayed. Reclined and leaning against his fist, robes rich and arranged just so. The very picture of indolent decadence. It was deceptive. I KNEW it was. A trap. But to get too him... I had to step closer. My eyes moved from the splay of his legs back up to his face. His smirk had grown teeth. I... I refused to run. I would finish this.
I stepped forward. Between his long legs, feeling distinctly like I was balanced over a bear trap, and lifted the dagger. I refused to hesitate. Wait to see if he changed his mind. I slammed it forward. Right through his heart. Glaring, as I looked him right in the eyes. The blade HISSED. Like acid meeting stone.
He laughed.
Grin full of unhinged glee, a vice in the shape of a hand clamped around my wrist, and the world SPUN. I slammed against the floor, the Demon King straddling me, at the foot of his thrown. He loomed. Behind him, above me, shown a magnificent window the lit him from behind. Like a halo.
"You didn't even HESITATE. You'd rip my heart out, if you could. Wouldn't you?" He says. Almost an whisper, nearly a groan, filthy with something that terrifies me and shouldn't BE there. "I KNEW I sensed something. KNEW you were out there."
I desperately try to push the knife deeper. Use everything I can to... to just-!
All I want... All I NEED? Is to see it come out the fucking OTHER SIDE. Please. Gods, PLEASE! End this! I'm gritting my teeth. Snarling. This BASTARD. I HATE him! I HATE HIM!
"Ah~ That's it, little one." He groans. Not even bothering to hide that he's apparently getting off on this. I'll kill him. I'll FUCKING KILL HIM! "Good~, that's right. Just like that. Give IN~♡ I'll take SUCH good care of you. I've always wanted a little pet. Focus it all on me. Give it ALL to me~"
My brain feels like it's on fire. My lungs filled with ash and flame. I hate. I hate and hate and HATE! I can't think. Something is... wrong? Wrong! The blade hurts to hold. Like it's rejecting me. No. NO! I HAVE TO KILL HIM! I may not be the Chosen One but-!
It finally becomes too much. The pain of holding the blade out weighing my hate. It's like ACID. My hand spasming away like I was trying to touch a hot stove. My palm is an ugly red. Wounded.
In one fluid movement, my wrist is released, the blade pulled free, tossed aside, and my wrist recaptured, before I can claw his fucking eyes out. I grit my teeth. Fangs grinding togeth-... wait.... what?
I stare at my hand.
At the black talon like nails where normal nails were, just this morning. And feel... horror. My... my teeth feel weird. My eyes hurt. Sides of my head too.
"Got you~"
He throws his head back in a triumphant laugh. The sound echoing like a nightmare. Even as I watch, the pigment of my skin is changing. Draining away to something even. Something almost too pale. Unnatural.
"I'm so glad you've decided to join me, darling." My hands are slammed down on either side of my head. His face inches from my. Eyes burning with something terrible. "I haven't had a bride in SO long~ following your progress has been FASCINATING. And now! Oh little thing, I get to KEEP you all to myself. Make you GOOD for me. Learn every inch of you. You should be excited, darling~"
Tags: Open-ended, slow-ish burn, getting back together, reader is a physicist who works for the military, gender neutral reader, no use of y/n, made jack more of a mix between movie and show o'neill because that man doesn't deserve to be that depressed.
Summary: Your peace at the Colorado installation is rudely interrupted with the arrival of someone from your past. Fortunately (and unfortunately) for you, he's not that different from the man you used to love.
A/N: Thank you to the anon who requested this! It ends on kind of an open note, so let me know if you'd like me to just... take the plunge and rewrite the entire movie LMAO
A/N: Please enjoy this written version of one of my many hallucinations. As a reminder, this doesn’t directly follow the canon events of CoD. Also, feel free to leave feedback and share if you are so inclined.
Prolog Chapter Two
Pairings: Ghost X Reader, König X Reader
Warnings: Mentions of violence,
Some things would never change, from the silence of your steps to your highly perceptive hearing. All of your training had stayed with you even after your leave from 141. Your eyes were always sharp, keeping watch for what could be lurking around the corner. Shoulders always squared and feet poised to strike at anyone who might try to take you out. You were constantly on edge, rarely ever sleeping due to the fear of those seeking your head. The things you had done, the face of those whose lives you had taken, would flash through your mind when you closed your eyes. On the rare occasions you did sleep, you’d wake in a cold sweat, screaming from the night terrors that plagued you. Memories of the capture that lead to your forced leave from the 141. Flickering images of the torture you were put through at the hands of the enemy.
You had been sloppy in your work only once, but once was good enough for them to take advantage of. They captured you as you lay in a puddle of your own blood. You weren’t fast enough as the bullet started flying, shelter just far enough from you for them to get one good shot off. You were too weak to crawl away as the crimson stained your clothes, seeping from the wound in your abdomen. The taste of blood in the back of your throat kept you from yelling for help. The hands of the enemy dragging you out of sight as the rest of your team made their escape. Too little too late did they notice your absence. By the time they had realized, you were already too far gone. Forced to evacuate and regroup, they made a plan back at the main base.
Another team had gotten to you first, though you distinctly remember Laswell having been there. The other team took you for medical assistance in the building where they would eventually push you from the 141.
That was two years ago now and you had built somewhat of a normal life for yourself now. Going under a fake name and being under 24/7 surveillance from those who had employed you before. You still didn’t feel safe. You never felt safe anywhere unless you were surrounded by your team. They had been your family, never had you felt like you belonged somewhere more in your entire life. Gaz and Soap were like brothers to you, Price like a father and Ghost... Well, he was a complicated one. You get along well and all but he was never one to open up. You knew little things about him, but you were sure the others knew those things too. He never opened up to you and for some reason, it bothered you. He hadn’t been cold to you like he was with most, he treated you well enough and would even occasionally joke with you. They were wry and sarcastic, sure, but they were jokes nonetheless. Which meant there was at least something there, right? Some semblance of a friendship?
“Desert?” A female voice snaps you from your thoughts as your brain registers the fake name you’d been given. Alice was calling for you, your eyes snapping to meet her brown ones, the worry on her face evident. “Hey, are you ok?”
Batting away the concern in her voice, you allow your eyes to readjust to your surroundings. “Yeah, yeah. I was just… lost in thought, that’s all.” Shaking your head you begin picking at your food, not really hungry anymore. You knew that this brunch thing wouldn’t go well, you spent most of your time busying your mind with work and chores. You even went as far as to fill any unoccupied time with volunteer work and excessively retraining your movements, just in case. None of it was necessary, however. Your ex-employers were paying for everything for you. They’d literally handed you the keys and address of a one-bedroom flat and a box of food would arrive at your door every Friday at 2 p.m. But none of that kept your mind from slipping back to the day you lost everything. You hadn’t even gotten to say goodbye. They took you to a separate outpost, then shipped you out here.
“You seem a little more than just lost in thought, Hun.” She gives you a look as if to say ‘I know you better than you think’ before returning her attention to her food. “If you need to talk you know I’m here. You’re like, my best friend and I’d hope that you’d feel safe sharing your thoughts and feelings with me.” She smiles mischievously leaning slightly over the table. “No matter how fucked up they might be. Believe me when I say I have seen some shit.” She pushes her pin-straight blond hair over her shoulder as she bites into a carrot she’d picked out of her salad.
You nod silently as you stab the salad in front of you with the cheap plastic fork it came with. “I, um…” Your nerves are on fire after everything that just ran through your mind. “I’ve been thinking back on all the fucked up things I’ve done in my life, you know?” Taking the forkful of salad into your mouth, you look up at her to gauge her expression. She seems passive enough as she nods slowly, encouraging you to continue. And so you do, trying to keep the words that spill from your lips as cryptic as possible. Swallowing the bite of salad, you plaster a fake smile on your face. “You know, like, when you do something so completely avoidable and get into a lot of trouble over it or hurt yourself in the process.” Your smile falters as your mind again drifts back to that day.
A small laugh escapes her plump lips. “Yeah, no, I get it.” She shakes her head looking you dead in the eyes, brows creased with amusement dancing in her eyes. “Is that really what you spend all that time thinking about?” Her cocks slightly to the side.
An odd feeling rolls through your gut as you stare at her for a moment, trying to keep your features as neutral and light as possible. Something about her felt familiar, almost dangerous. Your mind races trying to figure out why she seemed familiar. Of course you knew her, you’d befriended each other a few months after you’d been moved here, but something about the look she just gave you sent your mind into a spiral. You remember that face, from a long time ago, way before you’d messed up. Then, as if you’d unlocked a hidden door somewhere deep in your mind, it all comes flooding back. All the negotiating you’d done with the enemy’s intelligence unit, it was her. She was always the one that would show up to speak with you, always completely unarmed and far too casual for the serious discussions that took place. You remember the odd, creepy vibes she gave off whenever she’d crack an inappropriate joke about whichever team member had been partnered with you that day.
You’re sure at this point in thought that your mask had slipped, letting her in on the feelings flooding through your body. Fear and confusion, among many other feelings, flood you. As you regain composure you notice her once amused face has turned serious. “I’d be careful what your next move is soldier, wouldn’t want to make any more stupid mistakes, would we?” The smile returns to her face, sickeningly sweet and overall creepy as the tone in her voice turns sardonic.
Inhaling deeply, you push your nerves down, blowing the anxiety out of your body with the exhale. “No, no more stupid mistakes.” With a light shake of your head, you stand slowly, clasping your hands in one another. You can only hope this action has the effect you're looking for. The last thing you’d want is an innocent getting hurt in the crossfire of a war they weren’t part of. Your eyes shift from her face to the rest of her body, searching for any signs of hostility. None immediately present themselves outright, perfect. Now you could easily lead her away from the civilians who were just trying to enjoy their remaining days on this spinning ball of hell. “Shall we?” Your voice comes out more confident than you were anticipating. Gesturing to the exit of the small café with your hands still clasped., you take a cautious step towards it, eyes never leaving her form.
A knowing look crosses her gaze as she dabs her lips with a napkin. “Of course bestie.” An almost crazed smile paints itself across her thin lips. “Wouldn’t wanna waste our hours away sitting here all day.” She stands tall and straight, walking with intent. She strides up to you, giving you a cocky look as she links her elbow with yours. Leading you through the exit, she stops a few steps down the sidewalk, appearing to map the best route in her head as she looks up and down the street.
Sizing her up mentally you come to the conclusion that in hand-to-hand combat you could easily subdue her. If she possessed a firearm, however, your chances were slimmer. In the current environment, she’d be stupid to try anything. Civilians and shop owners would see everything and most of them knew her face by now. A small hiccup with living so long in such a small town, but an advantage you’d abuse in your current circumstances. On top of that, you’d taken the time in your paranoia-stricken state to map out the whole town repeatedly. At this point, every street, alley, and building was permanently ingrained in your mind. You’d need to make it to the forest on the west side of town. You knew what path you’d take if you got the chance to make a break for it. You stay silent as she continues to inspect the intersecting roads. Now though, you’re not sure whether she’s mapping out her surroundings, or looking for someone. It hit you then that if she had been this close to you the whole time, her team probably wasn’t far from her.
Your mind begins to analyze the situation again, this time with the assumption that her team was also here, watching you both. Taking a silent deep breath, you clear your mind. There were some obvious spots that they would hide, plain sight for instance. You’d never got a glimpse of her team members’ faces, anonymity was almost a must for field ops during any mission. The town could be chock-full of enemy soldiers waiting around any corner ready to gun you down. Your mind flips through the nearly infinite paths you could take to safety, each one being tossed out for one reason or another. Corners you couldn’t see around, places not dense enough with buildings to duck behind, alleyways that didn’t lead directly into each other, and places too busy with civilian activity. You could do this, it would be risky but you knew you could.
Your eyes fix on the side of her head, trying to assess if you had the time to slip away before she located what she was looking for. Her eyes were still flitting back and forth, deciding now was the best chance you’d get, as time only allowed whatever danger there was to get closer. You steel yourself against the thought of being shot at and chased down, your leg muscles twitch as you shift your feet silently into position. Your mind flashes the path one last time, the hardest part would be the 180 you’d have to make to start the long trek out of this place. You glance once behind you to ensure the path is clear. Your body begins to move on its own, your hands unwinding from each other before you swiftly yank your arm from Alice’s. Using the moment of your own movements you spin on your toes taking off in a mad dash for the first alleyway you’d mapped in your head.
Time seems to slow as you round the corner. Your strides nearly halt as the unmistakable sound of a gunshot rings off of the walls around you. Your sense of self-preservation kicks in and your legs begin to move faster. Rushing footsteps sound off from the street behind you. Wasting no time as you come to the next turn in your mental map, your right-hand jumps away from your body. It grips tightly on the pole of a street sign, using the momentum you’ve gained to whip yourself around the corner, losing little to no speed. With the path still clear in your mind, you focus all of your energy on putting as much distance as possible between you and your assailants. More gunshots ring in the air coming from all directions, confusion growing in your mind. Your chest heaves as you push yourself to keep going, running for what felt like forever as the sounds of all-out chaos resound through the streets. The footsteps behind you hadn’t ceased but had grown a bit quieter, farther away. If you could, you’d find a place to hunker down and hope they’d run right past you, but with no weapons to defend yourself with it wasn’t the best option.
Your legs ache from exertion, your chest heaving with every footfall. ‘You can do this’ repeats in your head over and over, a sort of mantra to keep yourself going. You were so close to the outskirts of town, the sweet taste of freedom stuck to the back of your tongue. One left turn, then a right and you’d smack face-first into the trees you plan to use to get away. The sound of gunfire is slowly dying down as you ready yourself to make the swift turn around the corner. For what has to be the twentieth time today, your arm jumps away from your body and you fling yourself around the corner. Your eyes widen as you catch sight of a large looming figure standing in the middle of the small alleyway. Suited in full tactical gear, a pistol in one hand and a knife in the other, he’s a menacing sight. His whole body is covered in weaponry and as your eyes scan up his body you catch a quick glimpse of a skull mask peering back at you. Using the little bit of clarity left in your head, you make a split decision, knowing you wouldn’t have time to stop before colliding with his large frame.
Could you do a human soldier reader x a wounded and "dishonored" Marauder protecting him? Like a Marauder too wounded to defend himself gets saved by a human soldier that got separated from their troop, and is trying to stay sane in hell. Saw a Marauder, and went "Ah, demon I can talk to" and takes the guy out of desperate loneliness
"Well this day just keeps getting worse..how did I even get to this point?" You mumbled to yourself, standing before a tall decrepit church with an upside-down cross affixed at the top.
It was hard to fathom how you got into Hell itself.
One moment, you're playing cards with your troop, laughing and cracking jokes..
And the next, you're hopelessly alone in this infernal landscape with very little ammo and very little chances of survival.
This is definitely not what you signed up for when you joined the UAC. You wanted humanity to thrive, but didn't really agree with all the experiments and such the organization did to bolster its continued existence--especially when you knew damn well they let billions of people die already and didn't care.
Fortunately, your UAC division had some sane people and wasn't just full of cultists.
But unfortunately, one of them was not your commander--who thought that taking the fight to Hell itself like the Doomslayer did would somehow intimidate the demons and convince them to stop invading Earth.
He had always been a fanatic about him, ignoring your remarks that unlike him you were just ordinary people without the godlike powers that helped the Slayer survive. He believed rage alone enabled him to persevere, and he expected your troop to go in with that same mindset.
But if anything, your commander simply sent you to die and become new additions to the demonic army.
The moment your troop stepped out of the portal, you were ambushed on all sides by various demons. It's like they knew humans were coming.
So you did the only sensible thing and fled.
Unfortunately, nobody else thought the same, and before you knew it..
You were all alone.
You weren't sure how many hours or days have passed since, but somehow you're still alive, living off roasted meat from some deceased giant demonic beast.
Communicating with the other side was out of the question, given your radio broke and there's no WiFi service in Hell...so your cellphone was useless.
Curiously enough, there was ammo littered around the realm--probably left behind by soldiers who weren't as lucky as you--but none could replenish your rifle. There's only a single bullet left in the chamber.
You had a knife and grenades, but what if those weren't enough to protect you?
What if you accidentally pissed off one of those Titans you'd often see roaming in the distance?
Your knife will be like a little prick to them before they crush you flat.
Shaking your head, you decided not to think about the dozens of ways you could possibly die here, and tried to remain optimistic. You weren't even that scared anymore.
If anything, you felt....lonely.
You were so used to being around your squad, as well as all the interns at the UAC, but now that it's just you and your thoughts...how could you cope with that?
You certainly couldn't just talk to any demon here. They'd murder you on sight...and probably wouldn't understand what you were saying, anyways.
You sighed and proceeded into the church, hoping that nothing was lurking inside. All you wanted to do was rest your feet for a moment and see if you could make this place into some hideout.
Yet upon stepping through the doors, you were surprised to find not a single demon, but rather the remains of many.
Fresh blood and guts caked the walls, and dismembered limbs and skulls were scattered around--some frozen, others charred like burnt marshmallows.
It looked as though the Slayer himself charged through here, guns blazing-
'Wait...that's right..only the Slayer could have caused a massacre like this..' You realized, a feeling of hope fluttering in your chest for the first time in what seems like forever.
If you were correct, then he must've passed through here recently, which means he could still be somewhere in Hell..
He might be able to help you!
Meeting him would be a great honor. While many talked about him like he was some god or the living manifestation of humanity's rage, you simply saw him as just...a man that Hell pissed off one too many times.
'Damn, my commander would've been so jealous...I wonder if I could get his autogra-'
Suddenly, an ethereal howl startled you out of your thoughts, and you spun around in alarm, rifle trained on....
An orange wolf?
You blinked in bewilderment as it stared at you, realizing it was merely a ghostly image. But you weren't sure if it was some demonic entity ready to attack you, or if you were just hallucinating.
"Um...good dog..?" You didn't know what to say, although judging from how its ears perked up, you knew for a fact it was real.
The wolf spirit turned tail and began walking towards the front of the church. You were compelled to follow it.
But upon seeing what it led you to, you froze in fear.
It stood by the side of a wounded Marauder.
You've heard about them before: they were once Sentinels who were converted into demons after betraying their oaths to their people and fighting for the Maykrs. It's even said that they were previously allies to the Slayer himself...so they were nearly just as powerful as him.
Yet this one was just slumped against the wall, looking utterly defeated, covered in blood with a chunk of his flesh torn out, exposing the ribcage.
He still had fight in him, though, as upon seeing you he became alert. With a snarl, he reached for the shotgun attached to his leg. And you tensed up, stepping back to aim your rifle in case you had to return fire.
However he suddenly grunted in pain and stopped, allowing the shotgun to clatter to the floor as he clutched his bloodied arm. It's useless. I've already...lost..." He rasped, exhausted.
You blinked in surprise, partially because you forgot some demons can speak your language, and also because he was actually giving up.
"Y-You're..not gonna try to take my soul?" You carefully began, not wanting to provoke him in any way.
"I never asked for this life. I only thought...I was fighting for the wrong side, and so I betrayed my king, my brothers...myself." The Marauder lamented. "Now I am nothing."
Honest to god, you weren't sure what more to say to him in this moment. But he still seemed remorseful and hated being a demon, so...he had a little bit of humanity left.
You held just a smidgen of sympathy for him.
"You, come closer." He abruptly demanded. "Now."
Hesitantly, you stepped a few feet closer to him. "Why-?"
Your eyes widened as he suddenly grabbed the barrel of your rifle, holding the muzzle against his forehead as he sat before you, on his knees.
"Woah wait, wait....what are you-?!"
"I've led a life of dishonor and shame...and that turned me into this abomination." His large hands trembled. "Let me die with what little dignity I have left, human. You only have to pull the trigger."
You could only stare down at him, shocked by his request. But you just shook your head. "I-I can't do that. I'm on my last bullet."
"It shall be one well-spent. Please end this suffering...don't leave me to the Slayer's judgement." He begged.
You blinked. "He attacked you?"
"He desecrated me." In case you didn't believe him for whatever reason, he ripped off his face mask, exposing the rest of his skull and broken teeth. "And then he left with some urgency..but I fear he will return to finish the job, and if not, then I will surely be punished for my failure."
Yet despite his pleas for a merciful death, you hesitated, trying to pull your weapon away.
You weren't sure why, but despite him being a demon, the idea of him willing to die by your hand just made you extremely uncomfortable. He could crush your gun and rip you apart with his bare hands easily, and still he refused to.
"Well..my judgement says it's wrong to murder someone who's defenseless..."
"Wrong?" He repeated incredulously, glowing eyes becoming wider. "We've slaughtered billions of your people...I thought you'd rejoice at this opportunity for vengeance."
"I....listen. Let go for a second."
"Why?"
"Just...trust me. Please let go." You firmly commanded.
When the Marauder released his grip from your weapon, he watched you take a step back. Thinking you were going to finally execute him for his crimes against humankind, he closed his eyes and bowed his head, hoping that he'll never be resurrected again.
Wherever he went had to be so much better than this..
You loaded your last bullet into your rifle, aimed strategically...and fired.
But he felt no pain whatsoever.
There was a small explosion, and he snapped his eyes open just in time to see a Lost Soul shattering to pieces. One of its horns fell into your hand, and you examined it, finding it perfectly intact.
"Sweet." You chuckled, pocketing your little souvenir with pride, before looking back at the Marauder..who seemed shocked.
"You told me that was your last bullet."
"Yep, but now I have a reason why I can't kill you. I'm all out of ammo." You shrugged. "Sorry."
"......."
"What? That flaming skull would've killed me had I shot you first! It's not like I asked for it to be there in that exact moment..what do you call those, anyways?"
"A Lost Soul. Damned remnants of mortals who seek a final death." He explained bitterly.
"...oh, well...I'm glad I gave them some peace." You chuckled, although you fell silent as he scowled.
"Yet you'd deny me that same release?" He scoffed. "Why is that? Pity?"
"No, I just..I guess I was...lonely."
"..lonely?"
Sighing, you took a moment to set down your rifle, before reaching up to remove your helmet, inhaling the air.
Just as you expected...it was hot, humid, sticky, and reeked of death all around. You were already starting to sweat a little. But you resisted the urge to gag, instead putting it down on one of the seats.
The Marauder was surprised that you willingly showed your true face to him, although he was still unsure of your intentions.
"Look, I've been stranded here for god knows how long..and every other demon I met has tried killing me. And they can't talk. None except for you, of course." You kneeled down in front of him. "Call it pathetic but..I'm just glad to talk to someone."
"You took a great risk in approaching me, human." He huffed, leaning back against the wall. "If not for my wounds...this could have ended differently..and even still, I could easily-"
"I know, but I don't think you really wanted to. Otherwise, your little wolf spirit would've eaten me alive already."
He was silent for a moment, looking to the ghostly apparition beside him. "My Hellhound...did not attack?"
"Nope. It just led me straight to you. I thought it was a trap at first, but...it must've known you needed help-"
"Help? Granting me an honorable death would have been more than enough "help", but you're too soft to even do that.." The Marauder scorned you. "Just leave me be. Don't waste your breath..I am beyond salvation. Go home."
"That's the only problem...I can't. I'll die before I could even figure out a plan to get back home." You shook your head. "For now I just wanna rest, and since you're here..maybe I can patch you up. O-Or at least uh..patch whatever I can."
He blinked at your offer. "You..would do that for me? What would your leaders think of you aiding a demon?"
"....to be honest? I don't give a shit what they think anymore. They probably think I'm dead."
"I see..very well then.." Sighing, he put his mask back on and gazed at you for a few moments. "If you heal my wounds, I will give you protection until you find a way out of this accursed place..or until the Slayer finds me. I fear I cannot protect you from him."
"Yeah, same. I'm not sure if I can convince him to spare a demon's life, but I'll do my best to hide you." You awkwardly smiled.
He hummed in agreement, before he picked himself off the ground and gathered his weapons.
You grabbed your rifle and donned your helmet once again, breathing in the fresh oxygen your suit pumped out. "Ah, much better...no offense. But the air quality here is sh-"
"None taken, human." The Marauder looked to you. "I can still stand, but not fight...at least for right now. I do know some places the Slayer would not care to look."
"Alright, then..lead the way. I'm trusting you."
He quietly chuckled at the idea of a human trusting a demon so easily.
But he was still a solider with a built-in code of honor.
If his enemy spared him, then he'd have to spare them, too.
