Chapter 13: Shedding Some Light

115 17 0
                                    

"Oh my dear, sweet lord in Heaven, I accept this heavenly gift, and will use this big motherfucker to chew up and spit out all sorts of demon meat," Kyra said as she slowly lifted the huge, shiny, giant, fuck-off chromed killer she had just discovered.

This was easily the best thing that had happened to her since she'd woken up in that motherfucking escape pod who knew how long ago now. She'd made her way to the Military HQ after wasting the second hellbound heart, and it hadn't been easy. She'd been jumped by two pairs of fiends and a clutch of zombies that she'd emptied her pistol and again bloodied her hatchet dispatching. Again, she had that anxiety eating away at her: reduced once more to her hatchet. But as she'd come to stand before the entrance to the Military Headquarters, she'd finally worked up the nerve to open it up...and there it had been.

Almost like it was waiting for her.

The chaingun.

The United Nations Marine Corps issue DX-56 'Widowmaker' Chaingun. She hefted the big chromed beast and found that not only was it fully loaded, there was even one of its big yellow boxes of ammo nearby. She kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, and she was sure it would soon enough, but for right now, this gift was enough to put a huge smile on her face. This was the first real, genuine, significant firepower she'd encountered since this whole mess began, and Kyra more than intended to put it to immediate use.

"Okay fuckers," she whispered as she looked around the entrance lobby to the HQ, "let's get this goddamned, motherfucking show on the road."

As she marched into the main antechamber of the headquarters, Obsidian Station obliged her willingly enough. The door to her right opened up and a clutch of shrieking fiends came scrabbling out, trying to all get to her at once. She turned the six-barreled gun on them, which she had already begun to spool up, and opened fire.

An unstoppable barrage of red hot lead sliced into them and began turning them into chewed up meat. Their shrieking took on a different quality, and it didn't last for a whole lot longer. Two managed to pop off fireballs, but one missed by a wide margin and the other just winged her armor. She shredded them and sprayed the walls, floor, ceiling, and everything else with their blood and pulped gore. Before she'd even finished, another door behind her opened up and she whirled around, now finding a group of hellhounds coming for her, their claws clacking madly on the floor. She emptied the rest of the big box of bullets in the chaingun taking them out, reducing them to nothing more than blood-soaked parts and pieces.

Limbs and guts and meat flew everywhere.

Kyra heard herself laughing with complete abandon as she sliced and diced the fuckers and some small, distant part of her worried that she might really be beginning to lose it. After a few seconds, she realized that the gun was empty and the smoking barrels were still churning. She released the trigger and hit the eject button. The big yellow box clattered to the floor and she began the process of reloading it. Thankfully, there was nothing else coming for her right away, although she could definitely hear more sounds coming from elsewhere.

She'd stirred up the hornet's nest.

Good. Fine.

She finally had a goddamned can of Raid for them.

Kyra finished reloading and hit the barracks first, where the fiends had come from. They were a bloody, wrecked mess. The place looked like a feeding ground, with chewed bones and piles of stinking meat scattered across the floor. Men and women hung from the ceiling, bound by chains with hooks through their shoulders. Some were almost whole, some were little more than shoulders, a bit of chest, and a head, with stringy bits of skin hanging down from them. The sight didn't turn her stomach, it just boiled her blood and filled her with rage. She cleared the area, finding nothing else lurking in that section, and headed for the next place, which turned out to be a mess hall that was in just as bad of shape as everywhere else.

The DOOM ChroniclesWhere stories live. Discover now