DoomPet

by MASTERcornflake

Summary:

In his fight against hell the closest companions the Doom Slayer has had are his pets. A light in the dark for a silent, hulking man barely understood by even his allies. His dear pet bunny Daisy and his loyal dragon Serrat.

When loneliness takes over the Hellwalker. Vega convinces him to keep a gargoyle as a pet, but demons are like potato chips… you can’t just have one. After promising not to bring another demon into his home, the marauder saves his life and he repays the demon by letting him crash in the Fortress of Doom, but perhaps they are more than just roommates…

Now the Slayer has to juggle his endless crusade and his new family while fighting the Icon of Sin and the Ancient Gods that hold his leash.

(This is fairly canon compliant with the lore/story of Doom and it goes through Doom Eternal’s story and both of the Ancient Gods DLCs. There will definitely be references to Doom: The Dark Ages, but since that takes place like nine million years before Eternal it won’t be the primary focus. I hit most of the main beats of the story, but I do deviate a bit with some of the plot lines for Vega and Samuel Hayden.)

Chapter 1: Atlas is Lonely as He Holds Up the Earth

Notes:

Wow!! Sorry for the year and a half hiatus there! Last time I updated was December 2023 and now its May 2025. I didn't even really mean to go on a year and a half hiatus. I've continued writing the entire time, but I just haven't found the time to go and post.

Anyways I'm back! With Doom the Dark Ages coming out (and my pre-order about to be delivered any day now) I decided to get back into the swing of writing. That included completely re-writing this fic again which has really smoothed out a lot of inconsistencies in the story. I'm also planning on going through and adding memes, various screenshots, and other images as I have realized that you can put images into fics.

I'm excited to see everyone's thoughts and fanfictions about the new Doom game! I can't wait to get more lore about the sentinels and their home world. Also that big lizard boss looks AMAZING!

Your pal,
CornFlake

The DoomSlayer was lying on his bed in the fortress, wrapped tightly under a sheet. His hands clasped the fabric until it nearly tore. His thoughts echoed around his head, making his ears ring and eyes water. His chest felt hollow and empty.

He was lonely, painfully lonely.

He was a man that had lost everything that had ever been close to him to the gnashing endlessly ravenous maw of hell. His friends, fellow marines, family, and pet rabbit. Now that the fight had spread to a different dimension he was getting to experience the same painful loss over again as earth was being destroyed with only him to stop it. Visions of demons flickered through his mind, he could almost hear the sound of an imp crunching down on bone and the screams of ARC and UAC personnel.

With a sudden movement he rolled over, his hands releasing the sheets and reaching out to try and find his helmet that was resting on the pillow beside him. He caressed the side of it while he wiped at his red puffy eyes and the headache that throbbed behind them.

It didn’t help, the cold metal never helped. He shoved the helmet off the bed and rolled back over, twisting himself further into the sheets. A walk might help. After all, it wasn’t like he was going to be able to sleep anytime soon.

He sat up and grabbed his helmet off the floor, putting it on his head. Standing, his fingers ran over the covers of his bed and its metal frame, guiding him through the darkness. He reached out and took a few steps into the darkness, leaving behind the comfort of his bed and wrapped his large scarred hands around a door knob. Opening it and walking out into the dim red light of his workshop, he ignored his armor all splayed out on his desk. He’d fix that later, he couldn’t bear to do anything now.

He glanced up at the lights, and felt a spark of rage curl through him. Just a few hours ago, the Khan Maykr herself infiltrated his base and ruined his power supply, luckily he was able to use the demonic crucible to keep the fortress running. Yet, that wasn’t even the worst thing she had done. She had summoned twenty or so demons into his base, his home. He hoped Vega had cleaned up the blood on the floors. He didn’t want to see any more blood right now. His hand twitched and mouth curled into a frown as he waited for the semi-circle doors of the fortress to fold open with a loud metallic click.

Vega's voice suddenly chimed down from the ceiling, quite used to the Slayer’s need to patrol before he could sleep, though tonight has seemed particularly rough for the man. He continued to patrol and expanded his range each time, getting more anxious and restless each time. "What seems to be wrong? I have done three checks of the fortress with you. There are no enemies. You are safe."

The Slayer simply stared up at the ceiling, there was no use in hiding anything from Vega. Even with his dark opaque visor over his face the AI could read him like an open book. He slowly sat down in the hallway with his back against the wall. He shrugged and turned away from the sound of Vega's voice.

"Slayer look at me. Please?" Vega's voice had a worried tone to it. Of course it did, he was always worrying or nagging the Slayer so that wasn’t surprising.

He grumbled and looked back up at the speaker in the ceiling, shooting it a death glare through the dark glass of his visor.

"You haven't slept a wink in two days and you haven't eaten any meals in three days. Something is wrong with you. Something is bothering you. What is it?" He paused and watched the man expectantly, back on Mars he often functioned and a free alternative of therapy for the UAC employees, despite the terrifying imposing nature of the Slayer he tried to think of this as no different.

Slayer shook his head, angry at himself for showing any molecule of weakness when the world burned around him, and doubled over, pulling his knees towards him and wrapping his burly arms around them. His figure let out a shaky breath as tears dripped onto the inside of his visor. His voice was raspy and weak, it sounded more ghost than man, "lonely."

Vega activated a cleaning bot, having it come out of a little slot on the wall. It slowly drove over to the Sayer and bumped into his leg. "I'm here for you."

He looked down at the bot and scooped it up into his arms. A sudden rush of joy filled his hollow chest. He let out a whimper as he hugged it. Gently, he petted its sensors as if it were a small frightened animal.

Vega watched from above, feeling pity for the Slayer. This man could take on armies of hell, but he couldn't find the strength to eat. The fact that he latched onto the little cleaning bot did give him hope, and he decided to use it to help guide the Slayer, making it scurry off the man’s lap.

The Slayer tried to hold onto the little circular machine, desperate to stay near the extension of Vega, but he gave in and stood up, following the bot as it slowly drove back into his bedroom. It entered the room, lighting up the darkness. The bot led him into his attached bathroom. When the lights flicked on it was nearly nauseatingly bright, he assumed Vega must have seen his discomfort because next thing he knew the lights were dimmed down low. He looked around at the tub and the nice, but revealing, glass shower. He had a nice big sink and a toilet tucked away behind a little privacy wall that rose up to his hips. A variety of soaps and bottles of good smelling hair supplies he had found on earth lined the sides of his tub.

None of it had come with the sentinel fortress and Vega had followed the designs of the rooms he saw at the UAC, getting a bed and learning how to design a bathroom after having the Slayer raid a home improvement retailer for various supplies. In all he had taken a large useless storage barrack off the Slayer’s workshop and turned it into a proper livable space.

The bot bumped against the tub. Oh lord, how long has it been since he took an actual bath? Of course, he was clean, he’d take short cold showers after missions, but a nice relaxing bath sounded nice.

He nodded at the bot, thanking Vega for the good idea. He turned on the water, adjusting the heat. Then, he stripped out of the gray utilitarian pajamas he had been wearing and sat on the side of the tub, watching the cleaning bot slowly maneuver around the bathroom, cleaning the grout in between the tiles.

Once the water level was nice and high he slowly sank into the tub, easing himself down with his muscular arms. The warm water slowly lapped at his aching body, embracing him and warming his core. He let a sigh escape his just barely parted lips.

He wasn’t sure how long he had been in the bath, but he soon lost interest. The warm water had quickly grown cold, beginning to zap him of his heat. It made him feel worse than when he’d been lying in bed. He stood and dried off, bumping the bot with his foot to let Vega know he was out of the tub.

As he reached down to grab his pajamas, he realized they were missing. He looked up at the ceiling but was given no explanation except for a beep from the bot. The little machine beeped again and tried to lead him out of the bathroom buck naked. He paused for a second, confused, then followed Vega’s bot. His face twisted into an annoyed scowl and he wrapped his towel around his body.

The bot led him along the sprawling hallways of the fortress, down a long curved staircase, past an empty dingy alcove to a long forgotten storage cupboard. It beeped loudly and bumped into the smooth metal of the cupboard door. Vega enjoyed this game of beeping and using a physical form to communicate with the Slayer. It felt much more personal than simply speaking to a man who was rarely able or willing to respond.

He bent down, confused, looking at the bot as he opened the little door. It wasn't much, just things he told Vega to store somewhere. There was an old green space marine uniform, some random worn leather jacket with the name of a heavy metal band, as well as a soft shirt for another good band that has always been too large for him, and some soft pink pajamas with a bunch of hopping bunnies on them. Which made him crack a smile under his helmet. He couldn't remember who gave them to him. Maybe an old marine buddy as a gag gift. He had vague memories of frantically packing his belongings into and carrying them through hell in a little wormhole puck on his tool belt, same as the one he used to carry his weapons, and apparently these pajamas made the cut.

After slipping them on, he stood to walk back to his room. The bot refused to move and continued to beep at the cupboard. Slayer huffed and reached inside, pulling out the pair of matching pink bunny slippers. He bent down and put them on, feeling like an idiot but it did give him a little spark of happiness.

The bot let out a contented chip and escorted Slayer back to his room.

He opened the door and stepped aside, letting the cleaning bot in. He scooped it up and put it on the bed with him. Laying on his side he slowly petted its sensors. It was comforting having noise beside him. The clicks and whirrs of the motors within its covering lulled Slayer into a contented sleep.

It wasn’t only metal, but it wasn’t flesh. It didn’t matter. As long as it got him through tonight.

He actually slept the entire night, in a calm, dreamless sleep, while Vega hatched a plan that he wasn’t even sure of how he had thought of it on his own. Vega’s voice echoed around the fortress, waking him with a start. “There’s a demon in the fortress, but do not panic.”

Slayer leaped out a bed sending the cleaning bot flying across the room. His voice roared out, “DEMONS!”

Charging out of the bedroom, he grabbed his heavy cannon off the workshop wall. He loaded it, looked down the sights, and deemed it fit for combat whilst sprinting down the halls in his rabbit pajamas and his helmet.

Vega made an odd noise, like his processors were gummed up, “Well... I have a plan. I don’t think you’ll like it.”

Slayer froze, realization flowing over him, and shook his head making it very clear the answer was a firm no. As much as he respected Vega and his opinions, he thought the AI was naive from his time at the UAC.

“You are so lonely you’ve practically given up!” Vega tried chipping away at the Doom Slayer’s resolve, “Keep it as a pet of sorts. It will give you company and companionship!”

Slayer shook his head with a less certain no. It was a demon and demons were creatures of pure malice, not… he almost was sick at the very thought of it, pets.

Vega spat, “Fine then die alone acting high and mighty!” He shut off abruptly the red lights in the ceiling fading.

A second masculine voice spoke from the ceiling, “You know he’s right.”

Slayer jumped. It was Dr. Samuel Hayden. After retrieving him from the ARC complex he had barely spoken to the Slayer besides whining about not wanting to blow Mars up. He almost forgot he was here, and was sharing Vega’s interface. Mid-stride he froze in the hallway. The realization came crashing down on him. He had seen Slayer cry last night, run half naked through the halls, and was currently staring at him in his decked-out bunny pajamas.

“Please, I’ve seen worse. Well maybe not as bad as the great Slayer crying his eyes out cause he's lonely.” The doctor mocked.

Slayer looked away from the speakers. His face was red with shame but luckily he didn’t think Samuel could see him through his helmet.

“What are you going to cry again?” He chucked from the safety of the forcefield he was in; then, he got nervous and doubted its strength, so he shut his mouth.

Slayer frustration boiled over. He turned and punched one of the walls, denting the metal. He let out a growling yell, his throat stinging with pain at every decibel. “VEGGGAAAHHH!”

The red lights adorning the ceiling flickered back into existence. “I thought you didn’t want my help.” He said in a pouty voice, feeling oddly satisfied at his successful influence over the Slayer.

He shrugged and lowered his heavy cannon, taking on a more relaxed stance. He held a hand up, wanting Vega to continue, and he accepted his defeat.

Vega happily listed his whole plan to the Slayer, “It’s a small demon, from when the Khan summoned them, all you have to do is be slow and gentle, it’s more scared of you than you are of it.”

Slayer rolled his eyes and carefully edged around the corner of the hallway, following the marker Vega had slapped on his hud. Of course he wasn’t afraid of a tiny little demon!

Vega nervously watched the bloodlust crazed demigod. Would he really be gentle enough to not smash its skull to pieces? Vega snapped out of his daydreaming and focused, “You’re about to enter the room it’s in now. It’s an unused storage room, completely empty, so it won’t have anywhere to hide.”

Slayer gripped his gun tighter and nodded. He kicked the door down and charged inside, scanning his gun over the room. A flash of pinkish, scaly skin and wings shot across the room and huddled in the corner. It took every ounce of willpower he had not to just blow the demon’s head off right there and now.

“It’s a gargoyle. Life signs are weak. I believe it is injured-” Vega was cut off by the gargoyle letting out a low menacing growl.

Its head poked out of its wings, and the gargoyle bared its teeth, letting its yellow eyes catch the light from the ceiling. The little beast looked pretty fucking mean and it sounded like a mountain lion.

The Slayer took a few nervous steps closer and stopped when it growled again, this time even lower. He could get a good view of it. Its neck was bloody and its left shoulder was pretty torn up. He recognized the demon from when the Khan invaded his home. It knew he landed a single shotgun blast on the creature but he didn’t realize the poor thing had survived.

Slowly, he put down his gun and reached out his open palm to it. Perhaps, he felt a slight pang of pity for the demon. He never intended for it to suffer, he preferred a nice swift kill, easier for both parties. The gargoyle suddenly snapped at him and he drew back. He shot an “I-told-you-so” glare at Vega’s speaker.

Vega was completely captivated by the two’s interaction. A demon and the Slayer not trying to kill each other, at least immediately? It was a once in a lifetime experience. For all he cared, the fortress could be careening into one of Earth’s oceans, he had to watch the Slayer and this little creature. He spoke, his excitement audible, “Try and feed it. I think there’s some chicken in the fridge.”

The Slayer nodded and slowly backed away from the demon, keeping his gun trained on the beast just in case it decided to charge at him. He closed the door and walked to the kitchen, bringing back a small chunk of meat. He ripped it in half and tossed a chunk to the demon. It weakly raised its head and gave the meat an unsure sniff. Out of nowhere it's bladed arm shot out and impaled the meat. It gobbled it down.

They stared at each other for a while, before the Slayer held up the other piece of chicken, shaking it to catch the beast’s attention. It must have been starving because that was all it took for it to hobble over to him with its head hung low, weakly begging for more.

Slayer crouched down, opened the palm of his hand, and he held out the rest of the meat. Standing still and barely breathing, he watched it slowly approach. After giving the Slayer a few more quizzical looks, it ate the meat right out of his hand. Its jagged metal mandibles brushed against the sensitive skin of his palm, but it did not hurt him.

Vega laughed with glee, “It looks like we have a new friend. Perhaps you might be able to lead it to the infirmary to tend to its wounds?”

Slayer was a bit put off by Vega’s cheerfulness. He wasn’t ready to make this gargoyle, this demon part of his family yet. His voice came out as more of a mumbling growl than speech, “Follow.”

The demon tilted its head and limped after him. Halfway to the infirmary it started to struggle walking, and would take long pauses before whimpering and taking a few painful steps. Finally, it slumped to the ground, in a bloody pile, breathing heavily.

The Slayer spun around and patted his leg, “Follow.”

“It appears the demon is too weak to continue.” Vega examined it through the dozens of cameras and sensors in the hallway. The creature’s life signs weren't dropping too radically, but it was enough to get a worried tone into Vega’s voice.

The Slayer loaded a shot and aimed his heavy cannon at the demon’s head.

Vega’s voice came crashing over the loudspeaker. “That is NOT what I meant! Carry it.”

He glared at the nearest speaker; then, sighed and walked back to the half asleep demon. The gargoyle was deceptively tall, and the Slayer was sure if he forced the thing to stand up it would be nearing his height especially with its large wings, which were making the whole endeavor awkward. Luckily, the demon wasn’t nearly as heavy as the Slayer thought it would be. The wound on its shoulder had begun oozing thick red blood. He slowly worked his hand under the demon's head and back legs, scooping it up and pulling it close to his chest. He walked to the infirmary, trying to be as careful as he could.

“You’ll have to clean the wound. That will be very unpleasant for both of you if you attempt to do it without sedation.”

He gently laid the gargoyle on one of the three beds. Sterile white cabinets lined every available space. He sat down in a office chair and pulled over a metal table. A long grey and blue mechanical arm descended from the ceiling, placing all the items he’d need on the table. He took a needle filled with a clear liquid. The demon gave him a sideways glance and whimpered, hiding its face under its wings.

“It’s afraid of needles.” He mused. The mechanical arm closed its finger-like tongs and rotated, mimicking a person tilting their head in confusion.

He grabbed a disinfectant wipe and gently cleaned a little square of grime away on its upper arm. In a fast, smooth motion he injected it. The gargoyle let out a screech and tried to leap upwards, but he firmly held it down against the table. Its head slowly laid back down and he watched as its eyes rolled back into its skull.

“Very good! First, flush the wound with antiseptic. I will monitor any side effects from the sedation.”

The man nodded and grabbed some antiseptic off the table and gently flushed out the wound. Even though he didn’t need to be talked through cleansing a wound, he could probably clean a slice from a demon’s claw in his sleep, it was still nice to have Vega reassuring him. The grime and dust was slowly peeling away with each squirt of the liquid. The muscles in its left shoulder were visible, the skin and fat had been sheared right off of them. The wound on its neck seemed mostly superficial. Surprisingly for such a hulking monster of a man, the Slayer was tender and gentle against one of his worst enemies.

Once it was finished Vega sent a small drone with bandages and began restocking the supplies in the room. “Here these are much stronger than the bandages we normally use. They will be much more suited for demons.” Slayer let out a suspicious grunt and took them. Vega chimed in again, “They were developed by the UAC for care after experimental surgery.”

The Slayer growled again. What was he doing? This was a demon not a pet. It shouldn’t be healed, it should get its face filled with lead. He grimaced under his helmet. Yet the other option was dealing with his thoughts alone, and he didn’t know how much more of that he could take before he would finally go over the edge. Also, as much as he hated to admit it, he didn’t want to let Vega down. Vega had become his friend over the time they spent together. It would be wrong to hurt Vega by ignoring his advice… even if he thought it was dumb.

“You have to be fucking kidding me. You convinced the DoomSlayer, who is the demigod of killing demons, to keep one as a pet?!” Samuel’s voice hissed at Vega.

“Well from my studies of human nature I’ve found that a pet can-“ Vega was abruptly cut off by the doctor.

“Look at him! He’s dressed in damn bunny themed pajamas. He’s the Doom Slayer and you treat him like a little kid. You should be-“ The time it was Vega’s turn to cut the doctor off.

“He is my friend. He is under more stress than either of us could imagine. I’m trying my best to make sure he is ok and you’re just being rude!”

The Slayer pressed a button on the outside of his helmet and muted their argument. They fought often, loudly, and went rather low with the blows they dealt each other. While it was quite entertaining he could only handle so much of Vega digging up Samuel’s academic performance and calling it subpar or Samuel reminiscing on Vega’s clumsy mistakes he made on Mars. It took a long time but he finally wrapped the demon’s shoulder up in the special heavy duty gauze and unmuted his helmet.

To his disappointment the two were still arguing.

The doctor’s voice was near full volume screeching through the loudspeakers, “Well, at least I didn’t get a computer virus by ‘ACCIDENTALLY’ downloading gay porn!!”

Vega stuttered so much the lights of the fortress flickered and he tried to gag out a response, “It was an ACCIDENT! It was disguised as... my Turing test results!”

Slayer jumped with shock and quickly re-muted his helmet and vowed never to unmute his helmet halfway between one of their arguments or maybe he wouldn’t unmute the helmet at all.

The gargoyle lifted its head off the table, dazed and confused. It looked up at the speakers on the ceiling that were undoubtedly still arguing. The Slayer slowly reached down and hovered his hand above its head. It nervously looked at the fist that had killed countless demons. It sniffed it then mashed the top of its head into the hand, making some kind of happy screeching noise that he could hear even through his muted helmet. The Slayer looked down in wonder and awe at the sweet side of the creature.

A single tear ran down his face.

Chapter 2: A Friend in Dark Ages

The Slayer dragged his fingertips down the side of the demon’s head, reaching down and scratching under the demon’s chin. Its lower jaw was split into two separate mandibles and coated in razor sharp metal, making them more akin to the chain of his chainsaw. He found the strength within him to unmute his helmet and listened as the demon started to make happy trilling and chirping noises, similar to a parrot.

Vega and Samuel had stopped arguing, both now fixated on the little demon. Vega’s voice spoke gently from the ceiling, sounding more like himself now that the Slayer was remotely calm again, “It seems to like you.”

Despite its still very weak and wobbly state, the gargoyle slowly stood up on its metal bladed hands, balancing on the needle-like tips. It sniffed at the Slayer’s chest plate. The man stood still, waiting for the demon to finish. It looked up at him suspiciously, tilting its head and letting out a little chirp. The little demon was confused at why the Doom Slayer, the prince of slaughter, the king of gore, the lord of eternal mindless killing, would spare it, just a random insignificant demon.

The Slayer turned away and grunted, avoiding the demon’s puppy dog eyes. The creature was still odd and he didn’t trust it one bit, yet. He turned away, leaving the demon to stare at his back. He felt something touch his shoulder and hold him back from walking away. Whipping his helmeted head around, he saw the gargoyle had put a blade on his shoulder to keep him from leaving, and it gave a pitiful screech.

The Slayer took the blade off his shoulder and began walking away again. His thoughts swirled in a stormy confusion, could the demon really be his pet? This time the demon leapt onto him and firmly, yet gently, latched onto his shoulders. It screeched happily in the man’s ear, as he tried to pull it off of himself.

Vega chuckled again, “Gargoyles often engage in perching behaviors, just like what it is displaying on you! It must be feeling better, it is shockingly comfortable with you, fascinating.”

He tried squirming to get the demon off, but eventually he gave up, and resigned himself to be the demon’s chauffeur. After making his way to his room, stopping several times to readjust the weight of the demon, he gently sat the demon on his bed and gave it a “don’t-you-dare-try-and-eat-my-pillows” death glare. Reaching up, he went to take his helmet off so he could wash the demon’s blood off his body and get back to bed, but he stopped himself. Taking his helmet off in front of a demon? Had he gone mad? He looked up at the ceiling for assurance from Vega.

“I’ll keep an eye on the demon while you shower. You’re doing great.” Vega was happily examining all the data his camera and sensors were receiving from the two of them. The Slayer’s resting heart rate had gone down 5 BPM from his usual average. The gargoyle had a fever before but now its temperature was sitting right at what he assumed was its homeostasis.

The man nodded up at him and took off his helmet. He let out a slow, calm breath, but he kept his eyes open, making sure to keep aware of the demon at all times. He supposed it didn’t matter because the gargoyle was more of a pet than a person, and with Vega he was of course comfortable removing his helmet. Most of the time his face being revealed to people made his stomach twist with fear and his eyes immediately overflow with tears. It was a reaction that he couldn’t control despite his unbreakable strength anywhere else.

The creature sat on his bed in a rather goofy hunched over stance, its bladed arms sat in-between its outstretched legs. It stared up at him with a happy, yet tired, grin, excited to see what the Slayer was planning next.

He turned and headed into the bathroom, stripping out of his underwear, and hopping in the shower. He stood motionless in the shower and slowly ran his fingers through his wet light blond hair. A headache began to throb at his temples. Letting out a small moan, he sank to the floor of the shower and whimpered. Why was this so hard? He just wanted to rest. He didn’t want to worry about a demon in his home, but at the same time he found himself sad at the thought of the damn thing not by his side.

“Chirrrrr?” He felt something wet and cold touch his shoulder. It felt like thick rubber.

He turned around and shrieked. The gargoyle was in the shower, staring up at him. He covered his junk and tried to shoo the demon out, but the gargoyle stood firm, thinking the man was playing a game.

Vega chimed in, snapping out of his data analysis to see he had done rather poorly at his assigned job, “Oh sir the Gargoyle is in the bathroom.”

The man grabbed a shampoo bottle and launched it at Vega’s speaker, effectively shutting the AI up. He then grabbed another bottle and threatened the demon with it. Grunting menacingly and waving the shampoo bottle around, he threatened the demon out of the shower. He slammed the glass door shut with a sigh.

The demon walked back over to the glass shower doors, butting its head against the strange clear material. It tried to wedge a blade under the door frame, but the Slayer glared at it from inside and held the door firmly shut. It resigned to licking the glass and staring at the man, whining and begging for attention.

He sighed and gave in, opening the door and allowing the demon to sit in the shower as he cleaned himself. His voice was scratchy and gruff, “Behave.” He felt slightly odd having a demon staring at him naked, but it was better than it busting through the glass door.

The gargoyle sat quietly in the corner, its jaws open and tongue out, lapping at the falling water. It would blink and jerk its head back if it got too nervous.

The Slayer supposed there wasn’t much water in hell, except for the rotten puddles of the blood swamps, so the little creature was probably beyond confused at the shower. He turned the water off, opened the door, and grabbed a towel. He dried off and tied it around his waist, feeling much better and less exposed as he did so.

The demon just shook like a dog and seemed to get most of the water off, after all there was no fur for the water to hide in and its skin seemed to be hydrophobic. The Slayer was happy he didn’t have to attempt to dry off a few hundred pound satan puppy with three foot long blades on its hands.

They both headed back out into the bedroom and the Slayer dressed and flopped on the bed, lying on his back.

The demon hopped up onto the bed and the Slayer regretted not reprimanding it the first time. He sat up and snapped his fingers and pointed at the floor, shoving the demon away with his hand.

It looked at him, its eyes blinking slowly, not registering what the man wanted it to do. Surely, he didn’t want the poor creature that the gargoyle was to be forced to sit and sleep on the dirty floor? It stood firm and tried to lick his hand whenever he pushed it away.

He gave up and laid down feeling the weight of the demon lay across the foot of the bed, its head curled up by his ankle. Sleep evaded him and he laid awake, staring at the ceiling. Even if his eyes did close he was led down a path of confusing painful memories and kept having to dig himself out of negative spirals.

The gargoyle perked its head up and padded to the top of the bed, curling up beside the man’s trunk, resting its head on his chest. Its bladed hands were tucked far underneath it, so as to not cut the Slayer. He closed his eyes for just a second, working up the energy to scooch her off, refusing to fall asleep like this, no matter how warm and cozy he felt…

The Slayer woke up to a slimy mouth nibbling at his ear. Raising up a hand, he shoved the demon’s mouth away. Which earned him a poke in the ribs and a loud pitiful whine right in his ear. He sat up and blinked a few times adjusting his eyes to the light. He wasn’t sure what the demon wanted, other than to wake him up and annoy him. He stood up and looked out the singular window in his room.

It was a large semicircle that jutted out of the wall into space, it even had a nice little curved couch so you could sit and look at the earth. It seemed to be midday, he couldn’t believe that he had slept for so long. That only happened when he was sick or if he was recovering from an injury, not just because he needed a nap! He had tried setting alarms with Vega so he’d be woken up at certain times, but the AI refused because he wanted to let the man get as much sleep as possible.

His thoughts were abruptly cut off by the demon crawling up on his back to perch on his shoulder, beginning to chirp. It started very gently nibbling on the back of his armored head.

He grunted and gently pried the demon off of him. Confused, he tilted his head, understanding demons wasn’t his strong suit. Once again it chirped loudly and tried to nibble on his leg.

“Good afternoon, I’m glad to see you up. I believe it’s trying to tell you it’s hungry.” Vega chimed in.

“Or maybe its killer instincts have begun to set back in.” Samuel mused.

Vega didn’t respond. He just silently wished that he could strangle Samuel.

The Doom Slayer gently patted his leg and motioned for the demon to follow him to the kitchen. It had some difficulty, its shoulder wound looked slightly red and made the beast limp. Once they made it there he motioned for the demon to sit on a chair which, to his surprise, it actually did. It watched the man intently and excitedly clacked its blades on the table. The man fished a can of some old mystery meat out of the cabinet, opened it, and put it on a plate. Then he grabbed some crackers for himself, munching on them as he placed the plate in front of the demon.

It opened its razor sharp mouth and started eating the mush. Slayer sat across from it watching its metal mandibles slide over each other in some kind of morbid ballet.

He nibbled on a few crackers. It wasn’t that he was such an elevated being that he could survive on demon blood and the condensation that formed on Vega’s cooling vents, but rather his body wasn’t very good at keeping anything else down. Out on missions he often had swells of anxiety that sent his body into a panicked frenzy of trying to become as light as possible to fight demons which made him routinely lose his lunch.

Once he had eaten a bag of beef jerky from a store he and Vega picked over for supplies and spent the next three days recovering in the infirmary, sicker than he had ever been in his life because his body just couldn’t handle it. Vega had limited him to crackers and often offered him some sort of complex broth diet to get his eating back to normal, but he refused it everytime not wanting to be out of commission for any longer than necessary.

Even he had to admit, It was enjoyable to have someone as company to eat with, even if they were a demon.

“What’s its name?” The doctor questioned, “I haven’t been paying attention.”

Vega huffed, “Of course you haven’t. If you even had a shred of patience for our conversations you would know that it's name is...” He paused and thought for a moment the sound of his processor's whirring rose slightly in volume, “Oh, we never gave it a name.”

The doctor snorted, “Oh you’re a special bunch-“

He went to speak but just started coughing. Shaking his head, he grabbed the knife he had used to open the can off the kitchen table. He slightly scratched into the thick sentinel wood, ‘U PICK VEGA.’

Vega read the words he had carved a few times, excited to see the Slayer being more communicative, “Oh I can pick the name?”

The Slayer nodded and returned to nibbling on his crackers. He never cared much for names and it’s not like he would be saying it anyways.

“Can we call it Samuel Jr.?”

“No. Hmm... how about,” Vega spoke the word slowly for fear of causing the Slayer to go into a rage, “Daisy?”

The Slayer stopped eating and looked up at the speaker then back to the demon. Daisy was a name so special and important to him having a demon take it seemed wrong in a way, unnatural. The way the demon chirped and yelled did remind him of when his precious bunny Daisy would get upset and stamp her feet. He had told Vega to pick and didn’t see a reason beyond superstition and bad memories to pick a different name so he reluctantly nodded.

Vega let out a sigh of relief, “Excellent!” The demon finished licking the mush off the plate and stared across the table at the Slayer. “Hello Daisy I’m Vega-”

Daisy looked up at the speakers and started screeching. Maybe with happiness, or maybe just for the hell of it.

Slayer took out his knife again and again faintly scratched into the table as Daisy tried to climb on the ceiling to find the voice. He grunted and pointed at his message ‘STUDY DAISY.’

“Ooh that’s a great idea! Gargoyles weren’t among the demons attacking the UAC Mars facility so I don’t have any full body scans on them.” Vega spoke with that certain excitement only an avid scientist has.

Samuel spoke up calling out the Slayer’s hypocrisy, “So when the UAC messes with demons we are interrupting the balance between dimensions, but when Vega does it it’s fine?!”

The Slayer ignored him and led Daisy down to the infirmary. It was the closest thing to a lab onboard the fortress. He picked it up and set the demon gently down on some type of machine of sorts. Daisy stood still, still a bit afraid to anger the Slayer.

The machine turned on with a whirr and with one small flash shut off again. Vega hummed as he processed the results, “Oh… interesting! Well first of all we have a little lady on our hands. Her wounds seem to be healing fine. Those metal implants on her arms and mandibles are interesting. She’s been modified extensively. Also, she’s pretty old. The healing patterns around those argumentions have massive amounts of tough collagen filled skin around them. I wonder if that was planned for stability or just a lucky accident.”

He nodded, only understanding parts of what Vega was saying, and picked Daisy up off the scanner. So she’s a lady and she’s old. Holding her in his arms, he headed to his workshop. She looked up at him with wide, friendly eyes. He looked away but he did hug her closer to his warm body. As he waited for the door to his workshop to open he set Daisy down. They both scurried inside.

As much as he knew he should be charging down into Taras Nabad to retrieve his crucible, Vega assured him that the demonic consumption of earth had stopped after he killed the third hell priest on Sentinel Prime. He knew that the humans were more than capable of holding off a few random demons that were dazed and confused as their ranks fell apart. Yet he still felt lazy when he started to feel tired and sluggish. It was nearing the time of day when the earth hides the fortress from the sun. Between traveling through time zones and fighting the demonic horde he was left confused about when he should sleep and vaguely wondered if he should go and get a watch. He was interrupted from his thoughts and musings out the window by Daisy picking up a toy from his bookshelf. The man’s interest peaked and he sat down in his big reading chair to watch.

Daisy grabbed a gargoyle toy and the DoomSlayer toy. She made them waddle around a little bit with her blades, hopping around some invisible arena that only existed inside her head. Daisy picked them up and moved them closer to the Slayer tapping his knee to make sure his attention was on the toys.

He glanced between the toys and Daisy. It was cute. He stood from his chair and looked over the collection, carefully he picked one of the toys up.

Daisy let out a happy shriek and nearly knocked her toys over with her outstretched wings. He handed her the toy.

He watched with a curious stare. It was a little toy of the marauder. Daisy seemed absolutely overjoyed at seeing it. She chirped and ran around with it in her mouth, playing with the three toys.

The Slayer was slightly amused. Instead of making the DoomSlayer and gargoyle toys fight the marauder, the three fought against invisible demons together. Cute, but he had enough demons in his life now.

Slayer leaned back in his chair. He looked up at Vega. The AI chimed in with a hint of confusion to its voice, “I’m not sure what Daisy is trying to say.”

“Are you all blind?” Dr. Samuel Hayden hissed as if he was in physical pain just by being surrounded by Vega and Slayer, which to be fair he probably was considering he only had half his torso. “The demon probably wants to fight with you.”

That idea amused the Slayer, but he refused to answer and laid back in his chair, apparently inviting Daisy to hop up on his lap. The little demon made herself at home on his muscular thighs and pressed her body against the man, soaking up his warmth.

Watching the toy marauder dance around alongside them brought him back to the ARC complex, that day had been one of the most taxing he had in a long time. He got to actually see other people and what the resistance looked like, he was actually impressed with the defenses they had managed to muster against the demons. He also got to throw Samuel across a room and into a portal which was delightful.

The most interesting part of that day was the demon who had stepped out of the portal, bathed in the red flashing lights. He was one of the only demons who had ever spoken to the Slayer. His arm lit up in phantom pain at where the marauder had buried his red, demonic axe into his shoulder, wrenching it out and spilling his blood all over the floor. It was rare he didn’t kill a demon, and both their wounds sent them hobbling into their respective portals.

The Slayer hesitated but decided to allow the contact with Daisy. He told himself it was just for now. Next time he would say no but right now the little being on his lap reminded him of his own Daisy, how fluffy and soft she was, how she’d calm him when he was upset, how he’d always lull off into sleep when he cuddled her.

He closed his eyes, and let his hand slowly brush across her face and healing neck. He had vague thoughts of wanting to get up because having the weight of a whole demon on his lap was beyond uncomfortable, but he soon found himself drifting off to sleep.

Chapter 3: Back to Hell I

He woke up to the little demon still wrapped around him, snoring softly.

What the hell was he doing? He couldn’t believe it but he had to do it. He couldn’t even bear the thought of being alone again. Yet that was the second time he had fallen asleep with her by his side and not felt the need to wander around the fortress for hours at a time patrolling for demons.

His conflicted feelings disappeared as she slowly lifted up her head and yawned. She gave the bandages on her shoulder a quick lick, obviously annoyed at their presence. She turned to the Slayer and licked his helmet.

He jerked back away from her slobbery face, muttering under his helmet. He tried to wipe the thick saliva off his helmet’s visor but eventually gave up and activated the cleaning system. A tiny windshield wiper came down and wiped the spit off.

Samuel let out a chuckle, “A widdle baby wiper blade?”

Vega chided him, “I designed that, you know!”

“Oh I could tell it had the ‘cutesy’ engineering of something you’d make.”

Now that she was sitting still he realized that he had never seen a demon up close like this. Her skin was shockingly human-like, but so much thicker and stronger, nearly as dense as a rubber tire. She had another two lumps in front of her wings which almost looked like a raised scapula sticking straight up from her back. Big spikes ran down her back and her whole body was wiry and thin, but muscular.

He brushed his hands along her blades, looking up close it was obvious the trauma her body had gone through during the augmentation to get her blades. Her forearm had been split and her fingers tightly bound to the metal blade. They didn’t look like they could move anymore, and almost looked charred. Her blades flinched away from the fingers he brushed against her now defunct fingers.

The only indication he made of accepting her discomfort was a solemn nod and a head pat. The Slayer scooted Daisy off his lap, letting her take up the whole chair. He stretched, letting his joints and spine crack and pop.

Resting her head on the armrest, she stretched out in the chair, not yet ready to wake up. She watched as her Slayer went down to his armor and began the slow process of cleaning it.

Vega had machines to do it but he preferred to personally make sure every bit was clean. Even a tiny chunk of rust could limit his mobility enough to get him killed. In many cleaning aspects he was lazy, like the pile of plates in the kitchen or the pile of dirty laundry in his bedroom, but in his armor he was meticulous to an almost ridiculous degree. Vega called it “Obsessive-compulsive disorder” but he just called it being tidy.

He scrubbed at it diligently. It was dirtied from his last mission and he hadn’t gotten a chance to clean it since the Khan had sent demons into the fortress and then of course, he looked up, Daisy came along.

Daisy watched him from the chair, interested in his movements. Her favorite part was when he finished a particularly dirty piece, came over and gave her a quick pat on the head, then went back to his work.

She felt loved.

Ever since she was ripped away from her gargoyle swarm to get augmentations she hadn’t felt truly loved. Sure she was loved as a fighter and as a science experiment, but that wasn’t love.

Whatever the Slayer, a rumored heartless being, was doing whenever he walked over and petted her head every now and then, now that, that was love.

He clicked his gauntlet into place on his arm and swung his fist upwards, activating the blade.

It startled Daisy out of her chair and she ran over to him, hopping up on his desk to examine what he was doing. She nibbled at his hand until he brought the blade down near her, careful not to cut her into pieces.

He let out a sight, the blade was clean thanks to a little auto cleaner in its sheath but it was dull, painfully dull. It would take so long to sharpen he would be messing with it all day.

Daisy put her blade on his gauntlet and dragged his hand lower, making the blade point right past her face. She bit the metal and pulled her head back, showering the workbench in sparks.

The Slayer watched in awe, just as a bird uses its peak to preen its feathers, Daisy used her teeth to sharpen blades, it only made sense considering the blades replacing her hands. After only a few sharpenings, she chirped, deeming the man fit.

He stared at what she had done. It wasn’t how he would have sharpened his blade, it was even sharper, down to a precision that made a obsessive person like him nearly run around screaming hallelujah. He activated and deactivated the blade several times feeling the fresh metal nearly slice through the atoms in the air.

He deactivated it a final time and slipped his gauntlet off, petting Daisy’s head.

It only took a few more hours of careful cleaning for him to be satisfied. Vega even had taken a cute time lapse of the duo together. It showed the Slayer hunched over his desk, keyboard and mouse shoved to the side so he could have more room to clean his armor, while Daisy sat under the desk resting her head on his knees. The only time the video would noticeably change is when the man stood up to grab a different piece of armor or pat Daisy.

Vega saved it to his personal database, directly onto his hard drive; he didn’t want to forget such a cute memory.

Suddenly the Slayer held up his hand. Vega understood what the hand signal meant after living with the Slayer for months, the man simply wanted the time. He spoke, “It’s 2:15 exactly.”

He nodded and stood, finally done with his armor. Motioning to Daisy he led her out of the workshop and into a small room in the deep lower hull of the fortress. Flicking the switch on, he illuminated a room full of random stuff: old dirty blankets, wooden barrels that looked half rotted, little half broken tables and stools that had been haphazardly tossed on top of the pile. It was all sentinel in design. The man assumed it was just a room some sentinel forgot to clear out. The Slayer dug through the junk until he came across the one thing that wasn’t from the sentinel world.

A couch.

It had three sections to it, all cushy and made of a plush light brown fuzzy material. It was perfect. He had picked it up from a destroyed furniture store forever ago, but never really had a reason to use it.

It took the Slayer longer than he’d like to admit to wrestle the first part of the couch up a few flights of stairs and past those damn sentinel doors that would close if you weren’t right in front of them, but finally he reached the workshop and plopped it down on the floor. Only two more pieces to go.

After a much longer time the Slayer had successfully retrieved all the couch pieces and had taken his big spooky sentinel reading chair down into the hull. Now him and Daisy sat together on the couch. They were both looking to the left, out the window at the burning earth. The Slayer turned away, unable to continue looking at the blue glowing sphere with long slices of red in it.

The Slayer poked Daisy and made her get up. He led her out into the hallway and made her wait there.

The Slayer turned and walked back into his room. He grabbed something that was extremely important for what he was planning, his shotgun. Unlike most of his ideas, made by the seat of his pants, he had an idea that almost bordered an actual scientific thought. Vega would be proud.

Wandering through the halls, he found the elevator and led Daisy inside. She looked around and sniffed the doors as they shut with a clang. The floor shuttered, sending Daisy cowering behind the Slayer as the elevator descended. Red hellish light flickered off the Slayer’s face as he gazed upon the long dead sentinel mech that towered over the training area of the fortress. He absent-mindedly wondered how fun it would be to pilot that one on earth, killing every demon he could see. He was interrupted by the clank of the elevator doors opening.

Daisy scurried out, chirping nervously. Without much warning the Slayer handed the shotgun to her. Motioning at the red walls, made of sheer energy, he gave the go ahead to shoot.

She tilted her head and fiddled with the gun, trying to hold something with knife hands was tough, but not impossible. After a few minutes, Daisy had a somewhat good grip, one bladed hand wedged under the front grip and another hovering by the trigger. She chirped nervously again, scrunching her face in fear, and pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. She pulled the trigger again and was met with the same result.

The Slayer chuckled and took the gun off the demon, this time actually loading the gun with two shells. He handed it back, and watched as Daisy snatched it up and aimed in only a few seconds. This time when she pulled the trigger a boom exploded through the room. Daisy seemed a bit frightened but mostly excited. She pulled the other trigger and shot again.

The Slayer nodded and took two shells out of his tool belt. Daisy somehow managed to use the break action, and watched as smoke wafted out of the steel barrels. The man handed her the shells. Daisy grabbed them in her mouth, loaded the barrels then, snapped the gun shut with a satisfying click. She fired two more shots at the wall then turned to Slayer chirping for more bullets.

He was impressed by the demon. Teaching this little creature how to how to be a little mini-me and kill demons, might actually work, but he supposed there was only one way to find out for sure. He shook his head, denying her request for more, and walked back to the elevator.

Daisy whined and scrambled back into the elevator, still holding the shotgun. The Slayer pressed his hand to a keypad inside signaling that he wanted a portal opened up to earth.

“Is it wise to go with Daisy?” Vega spoke nervously from the ceiling.

The DoomSlayer nodded as Daisy hopped happily beside him. Once they got back to the main control room, he pressed an orb on the control panel, making the panel slide down, and activating a portal right in front of the windows overlooking earth. Could he trust her? Would she try to kill demons, or run off with his super shotgun? He gave Daisy a quick nod and they walked into the portal together.

“Good luck you two.” Vega chimed out.

Notes:

You guys have shown me so much love with your comments and kudos! I’m so happy all you wonderful people enjoy this story.

Your pal,
CornFlake

Chapter 4: Lo and Behold: The Marauder

Notes:

Writing a doom fanfic while playing the mission you're writing about is a wonderful experience. Anyways enjoy!

All and all, the fighting was going well. They were both tearing through Taras Nabad like a freight train, crushing skills and tearing flesh, and It felt good.

The Slayer did have to keep hesitating when he was about to shoot a gargoyle, double checking to make sure it wasn’t Daisy. He was only able to tell the difference because she kept excited looking over at him, her mandibles wide open in a tooth smile as compared to the hunched over, snarling gargoyles who swarmed him. His meathook sunk deep into the face of a pain elemental and it shrieked, soaring up into the air. It wasn’t fast enough to escape the Slayer and he sliced the beast into chunks.

Daisy was over in the corner of the arena near the exit of the building they were in. She was hacking and slicing away at a whiplash, then finished it off with the combat shotgun.

The Slayer had switched shotguns with Daisy after she nearly launched herself right into the jaws of a cacodemon with the meat hook. If only she had hands that could provide a little more control over the gun, but her blades managed well with the combat shotgun.

He watched as Daisy finished off the last imp, giving it a swift yet gruesome death with the combat shotgun. As she scurried over to the man, he looked upwards at the ceiling of the building they had entered. It was insanely tall, vaulting far above his head, reminding him of the catholic church he went to when he was just a wee lad. In fact, he looked around at the wooden and stone pews, this probably was some sort of church. Now it’s pews were shredded and scattered, brown dried blood stains dotted the floor, and it’s intricate stained glass was strewn across the floor. He walked up to the altar, gently touching the smooth black stone. Behind the altar, a crumpled pile of what seemed to be a Pope’s garments laid in a pile, some demon had drawn pentagrams and runes on them in blood. He picked them up and held them up to his body, turning to Daisy.

Vega spoke from the speakers of his helmet, “With all fairness sir the marauder probably has a better chance of becoming a Pope than you.”

The Slayer snorted and wiped his bloody fingers on the once holy fabric, tossing the robes to the ground. Vega probably had a point. He did hope that the owner of the robes was safe though. Hopefully he had gotten out of Taras Nabad before the demons had completely taken over. Argent D’Nur had suffered similarly to what the human world was going through right now. Vast areas had become hellified in the molten flesh of massive gore nests, and yet some like Taras Nabad only looked as though it had been abandoned.

He felt the wind in the room shift. A gentle breeze no longer floated through the remains of the building; it was getting sucked towards the center. Dust and rocks swirled towards the point, old tapestries were nearly ripped off the walls.

The Slayer let out a yell, patting his leg making Daisy scurry behind him. He loaded two shells into his double barreled shotgun and gritted his teeth.

A red portal opened, bathing the remains of the temple in an unholy crimson light. Two long curved horns pierced the inky center of the portal, and out stepped the Marauder.

“Slayer… we meet again.” The demon narrowed his glowing red eyes and clenched his fingers around his axe.

The Slayer responded with just a curt nod. In his head he was royally pissed. This single demon kept following him around and it was driving him mad. The demon was basically a living armored tank, he hit like a train and could block nearly everything the Slayer tried throwing at him.

The only evidence of their past fight was an angry red cut on the demon's collar bone and the way he walked. He favored his left leg, limping ever so slightly. The demon reeked of weakness to the Slayer.

Daisy interrupted the Slayer’s thoughts and let out a loud chirp, peeking around the beefy man’s legs.

The marauder hesitated with a confused look on his face, hidden by his mask, the Slayer protecting a demon was quite an odd sight, but his eyes snapped open when he recognized the gargoyle. He snarled and gave his axe a threatening shake, “What are you doing? I thought you were dead!” Even though anger dominated the marauder’s voice the Slayer could hear just a hint of fear.

Daisy simply backed behind the Slayer, offering no explanation.

The marauder was confused. That was his gargoyle, a fellow comrade in his ill-fated battalion. What in the name of the wraiths was she doing with the Slayer?

What did she know that he didn’t?

The Slayer took a step forwards, awkwardly trying to initiate the fight. He wasn’t used to demons not just throwing themselves at him, and he couldn’t bring himself to take a cheap shot at the marauder. The demon just looked too… human.

The marauder just stood like a deer in headlights, in fact, he sort of looked like it too with those big horns of his. He looked at the demon for an answer about the freight train of a human being that was about to barrel down on him.

She hopped out in front of the Slayer and nipped at his boots, making him stop and look down. He was close enough to the marauder to reach out and shake his hand if he really stretched his arm.

Vega’s voice interrupted them with confusion in his voice at the situation unfolding before him, “I’ve updated your hud, there’s a swarm of cacodemons a few buildings down.”

A swarm of cacodemons… demons. The Slayer looked up to face the marauder. What was he doing? Daisy was allowed, she was different, but not this hell spawn.

He brought up his shotgun and blasted the demon right in the face, tragically most of the lead was absorbed by the demon's face mask, the demon roared and swung his axe slicing the man’s armor, luckily not the tender flesh underneath.

He leapt back reading for his next attack, “You took a cheap shot you BASTARD!” Lunging forwards he brought his knee up, slamming it against the Slayer’s chin. It stunned the man for just a second.

The man whirled to face the marauder, his head pounding from the hit. He shot his ballista, knocking the demon backwards into some pews.

The creature let out a string of curses and leapt up, grabbing a tapestry off the floor and wrapping it around the Slayer’s head.

The man let out a feral roar and thrashed around. His hands rushed up to try and pry the fabric prison off his head.

The marauder punched him in the face twice, uppercutting him so hard the glass in his visor shook.

Ripping the tapestry off his head, the Slayer freed up his vision and caught the third blow the marauder attempted to throw. He squeezed the demon’s fist, attempting to break the bones in his hand.

The marauder thrashed and broke free but not before the Slayer punched him in the face, knocking his mask off, and making him double over in agony.

They both drew back sizing each other up after their quick brawl. The Slayer could see how the fight was wearing on the marauder. The demon was limping badly and a stream of blood was running out of his nose, instead of the proud beast that had walked out of the portal now he was bent over wiping blood off his face.

The Slayer wasn’t unharmed either. His head was pounding from the two good hits that the demon landed on him. They were so good in fact that the man was struggling to hear past a loud ringing that was crashing around inside his skull.

They charged at each other again, both landing a few good blows with fists, shotguns, and axes. They were nearly equals which made their fights painful for both parties. An unstoppable force meets an immovable object.

The Slayer let out a roar and swung a punch at the demon but he quickly shielded, glaring at the man through the red energy that made up the shield.

The demon’s glaring face suddenly turned into terror, his red hot eyes flying wide open, “Behind you!” But the Slayer couldn’t hear his warning, his ears were still ringing from the previous impacts.

Suddenly the Slayer was yanked up in the air and a hundred needle sharp teeth shot right through his armor and stabbed his right shoulder. He howled in pain, thrashing around. He desperately tried to get away, squirming like a worm on a hook.

It must have worked, he felt himself fall to the floor. He looked behind him as he ran. A cacodemon had entered the church from the shattered stained glass window. Its face had a look of terror written on it, as if it had never expected to bite down on the Slayer.

He wasn’t sure what to do. Run?

His hud immediately lit up with red lettering, “Death Imminent Find Health Now.” He shoved past the marauder into one of the many long corridors that led away from the church.

He kept looking over his shoulder as he sprinted. His vision blurred and he slowed down, his sides heaving with every breath.

Turning around he took a few shaky steps towards the direction of the demons. Daisy was still back there. He had to go back. He couldn’t leave her with those monsters. He couldn’t lose her, not again.

He slipped on his own blood and collapsed to the ground.

Fuck. There was so much blood. Too much. He felt dizzy and weak; he couldn’t sit up, only lie in his own puddle of blood that was rapidly growing. He watched it run down the front of his armor, pooling deep in the valley of every joint before victoriously gaining enough pooling blood behind it to run down a piece of armor. He could only imagine there was that much blood running down his back as well.

Vega started speaking but his own ragged breathing was all he listened to, focusing on anything else was too painful. A wave of pain ran through his body like red hot fire. He tried unsuccessfully to muffle his screams of agony. Of course the blood trail he had left would lead the demons right to him.

With a gasp of pain, he kicked his legs, shoving himself into an alcove tucked into the side of the corridor. Hopefully he would be hidden enough there. With his right hand he started unbuckling the armor on his damaged left arm and shoulder. He blindly grasped at the damage with his hand, feeling the skin tight black undersuit he wore was shredded to bits over the bite before taking a few deep breaths and then looked at the wound. It was deep. He could see the white glimmer of his collar bone. Blood was pouring from it, the stone floor all around him was slick with it. His eyes rolled back in his head, and it took everything he had not to faint from blood loss.

Vega’s voice finally made it through to him. He hoped for some good news said in a soothing tone, but instead he was met with his shaky nervous voice, “I’m unable to stop the bleeding. The wound cut through the wires to activate any sort of tourniquet function.”

He wordlessly slid down the wall of the alcove till he was lying with his back against the floor. With the last bit of strength he tucked his legs back into the alcove, so no one could see him from the main hall.

All he could do was lie on the ground and listen to Vega try to calm him down with promises that he was currently rushing on rigging a mod bot to be strong enough to carry him through the portal. The words blurred together, sounding more like a far away humming than anything. He just couldn’t understand why his arm hurt this bad. Did Cacodemons have venom? His thoughts were cut off by a wave of red hot pain shooting through him. His back arched off the ground, black spots danced across his vision. He could feel his fingers start to twitch and spasm erratically.

Yep, definitely venomous. He made a mental note to add that to the codex he had on the beasts.

A demon poked its head around the corner. The Slayer hissed in pain and tried to grab his gun before realizing it was Daisy. He watched as Daisy sniffed the wound that was still gushing blood, and gave the man a concerned click.

He reached out with his good arm towards his little demon and let out a little desperate wheeze.

She hopped back away from him and poked her head around the corner, motioning with her blades for someone to come closer.

The sound of heavy footsteps and the grinding noise of metal armor approached. It echoed down the halls menacingly. Then lo and behold the marauder stepped right in front of the alcove. He starred in disdain down at the crumpled form of the slayer. With a jerk of his arm his axe activated, red hellish light engulfed the three.

Did Daisy lead the demon right to him? The Slayer kept his head up, staring right into the hellish light from the axe. He wasn’t going to back down. It didn’t matter that he couldn’t move. There was no chance that he would let the marauder scare him. He had already had his honor tainted by running away.

Daisy chirped up at the marauder, tilting her head with confusion. She reached out a blade and tapped the demon’s leg, giving him a “hey-bro-chill-this-is-my-friend” look.

The marauder glared down at the gargoyle and nodded, deactivating his axe and throwing it across the hall. He didn’t dig into his own wormhole storage on his belt to remove his shotgun which set the Slayer even more on edge. “See no weapons.” Kneeling down next to the Slayer, he tried to grab the man’s shoulder to examine the wound.

He yanked his arm away and flailed his legs about. With his good arm he grabbed the demon's pauldron and wildly shoved at him.

The marauder put his knee on the man’s chest and then grabbed his arm, looking at the gash.

The Slayer screamed, and with adrenaline giving him some energy, he desperately tried to squirm out of the marauder’s grasp. The demon held him firmly. “Calm him down.”

Daisy obeyed, curling up by the Slayer’s helmet and giving him some reassuring chirps. The man slowly stopped trying to pry himself away and focused on Daisy. His raspy cries of pain echoed through the halls.

Gently, the marauder took out a rag and a container of liquid out of his tool belt, dousing the rag in the liquid. “This will hurt, but I’ll need to neutralize the caco’s saliva, if I don’t it will eat right through you.”

As soon as the wet rag touched the wound, the Slayer howled in pain. His head rolled back, his chest heaving erratically, and he sobbed in agony.

The marauder winced at the reaction a mere touch was getting; then, he started wiping at the wound, dousing the rag again. He used his fingers to shove the rag into the deep crevices of the cut trying to neutralize as much of the poison as possible.

He threw his head back and screamed, not caring if a horde of demons heard and descended down upon him to tear him apart. That would be less painful than this, that was something he could endure, not this, not this. The wild screams turned to shaky begging pleas for mercy. “Stop, stop, stop, stop.” When the rag dug into his flesh again his body convulsed wildly and his screams became intelligible.

The marauder gave Daisy a panicked look at how out of his own depth he was. Yet he still felt pity for the man and patted the Slayer chest, “Almost there.”

The man just wailed, it was low and ragged, more akin to something you’d hear out of the mouth of an undead. He reached up with his good arm and dug his fingers into the marauder’s shoulder armor, clutching onto the demon.

The marauder sat back staring into the opaque visor that laid before him, and gently pried the man’s hand off his armor, “Done. It’s all clean. I’ll put pressure on it so it doesn’t keep bleeding.”

The Slayer nodded, nearly unconscious from the strain of screaming. The marauder must’ve been right about the flesh eating saliva his shoulder did feel better now. A deep pain bloomed through him as the demon pressed gauze against the wound, squeezing it hard against his flesh. He couldn’t reason out why the demon was helping him through his pain clouded brain and he didn’t even attempt any communication to try and reason it out.

The marauder looked down at him, a concerned look coming over his face, “Stay with me. You’re as white as a ghost.” The flesh around his bloody wound was devoid of color. He watched as the Slayer squeezed his eyes shut and let out a little gasp.

Vega’s voice erupted from the praetor suit, terrifying the marauder, “His life signs just started crashing, he needs blood, now.”

“Where the hell can I get blood? Wake up!” He shook the Slayer trying to get some reaction beyond the lifeless limp movement of his head falling back as Daisy leapt up to screech in his face.

Vega spoke with a nervous quiver to his voice, “If I open a portal will you carry him through it?”

The marauder looked over his shoulder back at the ruins of Taras Nabad and his precious axe lying in the hallway. If he went through the portal there would be no returning. Hell would reject him if he saved the Slayer. His stomach churned at the mere thought. After taking a deep breath, he hoisted the limp figure over his shoulder. “Open the portal I’m ready.” He looked down at Daisy, “You better be right about this.”

She just gave him a nod and chirped.

Vega felt a shred of hope wash over him, despite the critical condition his friend was in. He quickly opened the portal, making it appear a little farther down the hallway in a swirl of red. “Thank you.”

The marauder stepped through the portal, the terrible sickening feeling of teleporting subsiding as he stepped out. The Fortress of Doom hummed with a red, hellish glow which put him even more on edge. The Slayer’s lair was powered by hell energy?

“Please follow the path of lights to the infirmary. There’s blood in there.” Vega lit up the hallway leading to the infirmary.

The marauder wanted to slowly walk through, checking for traps, but he knew the Slayer’s life was on the line so he charged through the fortress, the sounds of his metal boots hitting the floor echoing around. Daisy bounded ahead of him, screeching and willing the demon to sprint faster.

Daisy rounded the corner and darted into the infirmary. The marauder picked up his pace, following Daisy inside.

He laid the man down on a table in the center of the room, and yanked the rest of the armor on his left side off. He could easily spot an vein bulging out of the man’s bicep. “Where’s the blood?”

“Here!” A flying mod bot came charging into the room holding a long needle and the straw like apparatus attached to a bag of blood. Vega began talking him through the basic steps but the marauder had this procedure done many times to himself by the medics in hell.

The marauder grabbed the needle and went to shove it into the man’s vein. Except his hands were shaking so bad he had to take an extra breath to calm himself. He pierced the man’s skin with the needle, pulled it out, then shoved the straw apparatus into his flesh, using some medical tape to hold it in place.

He had never been so happy to see blood as it traveled along the tube from the bag and into the Slayer. A robotic arm descended from the ceiling, blocking the marauder’s view of his face and lifted up his helmet to attach an oxygen mask to the man’s face, covering it once again. He breathed a sigh of relief and then focused back on the wound. Stitching it up didn’t take long and was much easier than cleaning it out now that the Slayer was unconscious.

It was odd to be so close to the body of the destroyer who had killed so many. He was a legendary figure who the marauder had only ever seen in myths until recently with their fights. He could see the wound on his left shoulder that he had given the man the first time they met, it was a little farther up than the caco’s bite. It was surreal to see his healed-over handiwork on the pallor colored skin of the Slayer.

He worked diligently, similarly to how the Slayer cleaned his armor. He was surprisingly precise for such a hulking brute like demon. The stitches were tiny and close together looking more like embroidery than two sown together hunks of flesh.

Vega was impressed, “Are you a medic? You seem to know your way around a needle and thread.”

The marauder shook his head, “Nope, l just took to stitching my own wounds up. When the Slayer comes through an area you can imagine how busy the medics get.”

“Ahhh I see.” Vega wanted to pick this demon apart. The sheer amount of knowledge of hell this beast had could help the Slayer’s crusades more than all the codexes he had collected on demons combined!

He used a pair of scissors to cut the thread, tied it in a neat knot, and sat down on a chair that was in the corner of the room with a loud relieved sigh. Though now that he didn’t have a task that involved life or death sprawled out in front of him his eyes darted around the room, realizing how much trouble he had gotten himself in. Daisy hopped up next to him and sat on his lap chirping. He didn’t know where else to go or what else to do so he waited for the voices in the ceiling to speak up while he awkwardly picked at the dry skin on his right hand.

“You may wander around the fortress if you like, no need to stay in here now that he is stabilized.” Vega informed him, while simultaneously locking off vast areas of the fortress to limit his range.

The marauder brushed his hand protectively over Daisy’s wing. Leaving an angry, injured Slayer who might even blame him for his injury seemed too risky so he puffed out his chest and put his foot down, “We will stay by his bedside, as is tradition.”

Samuel’s interest piqued and he spoke up while Vega frantically filled him in on the last hour he had missed in a hidden chat log. “What tradition may that be?”

The marauder was getting confused at all the voices he was hearing. “It’s disrespectful to leave an injured demon- well I suppose it applies to him as well.” The marauder gave a quick awkward motion towards the Slayer, annoying Daisy enough for her to hop off his lap and pad under a desk. In all honesty he was terrified to do anything. The Slayer was unpredictable. He had no idea if the Slayer followed any of hell’s traditions or not. While there wasn’t a particular tradition to stay glued to the bedside of injured demons, he couldn’t just leave the man laying there, could he? Sure, it was a bad look to lie and stretch the truth to the voices that worked with the Slayer, but his own self preservation took priority. He cleared his throat, “I wouldn’t want to disrespect the Doom Slayer.”

“He won’t be offended, I’m sure. I recommend you leave the room. He’ll be groggy and dazed when he wakes and might harm you by accident. Are you hungry? My friend can direct you to the kitchen.” Vega wanted to pry this beast off the Slayer for both of their safeties. He wondered if he should force the marauder to leave, sure, it would doom him as a traitor in hell but it would insure the Slayer’s safety. He winced at the cruelty of it though. Of course, it was much kinder than many of Samuel’s ideas of disposing of the demon he was sending him privately.

The marauder hesitated but the vision of the Slayer leaping off the table and charging at him scared him so he quickly nodded, “Sure, it’s been a while since I’ve eaten. Come on, we have much to talk about.” He patted his side and Daisy crawled out from under the desk, following him out of the room.

That was another thing Vega wondered. How the hell did he know Daisy?

Samuel guided them to the kitchen with his voice, and as soon as they were inside the room, he immediately began talking to Vega in the infirmary. That was the one benefit of being a disembodied voice he could be anywhere he wanted to be. “I was doing a system update for one minute and this happens!”

“Yes, it has been chaotic.” Vega focused his camera’s on the Slayer’s resting body.

“How close were we to losing him?”

Vega’s voice was usually calm and steady, even during stressful situations he really was only able to put slight indicators to indicate fear or anxiety, but his voice cracked as he talked with Samuel, “You don’t want to know.”

They both just sat in silence for a bit, looking out the same camera in the ceiling at the Slayer, watching the rise and fall of his chest through the armor.

Samuel broke the silence, “I can’t believe the marauder himself is here. First a gargoyle, now the marauder, what’s next a damn cacodemon bride?”

Vega let out a little laugh, the stress of the day starting to drift off, “Your first thought goes to him marrying a cacodemon. That’s what hurt his shoulder!”

“Oh Lord. Way back on Mars I watched one of the soldiers get chomped on by one. God the way she screamed. It was awful.”

Vega tried to steer the conversation away from the more awful events of the day. “So did you guide them to the kitchen?”

“Yes, yes I did. This is just a temporary thing, right? The whole marauder being here can’t be sustainable once the Slayer wakes up.” Samuel had watched that man shred through every demon on Mars with endless fury, why stop now?

“He betrayed hell to save the Slayer. I don’t think he’s going to be welcome back.” Vega took a glance at the kitchen cameras.

Daisy whined and hopped up on a chair, whimpering as she set her head on the table. Before he would open any food for her, he made her tell the story of her meeting the Slayer through charades and vague motions at the fresh wounds on her shoulder. There was a decent system of communication between the verbal and nonverbal demons of hell, but it primarily covered hand motions for things like: left, right, up, down, food, return, and greetings. She had only been able to communicate the basics to the marauder who didn’t know many signs. The Slayer shot her, healed her, fed her, and armed her with guns.

“Why would he decide to heal you?” He shook his head and began opening cabinets.

She chirped and stuck her blade in the air in a circle motion, the signal for return and squinted her eyes, taking offense that her story was called into question.

“Are you returning my question back to me, asking why I helped heal the Slayer?” He huffed and continued searching trying to find anything remotely edible. This man was supposed to be a God. Where were the heavenly feasts? “Because you were there, plain and simple as that. We are the last ones left from our battalion, I thought we should stick together even though the Khan tried to kill all of us.” He found some stale crackers and a can of bacon soup that expired two hundred and thirty four years ago. The marauder shook the can and opened it up and sniffed it, expecting to be disappointed. It looked ok-ish. Dumping it in two bowls, he gave some to Daisy and kept some for himself. The gargoyle wolfed down her share and started nibbling the little drawing of a devil on a metal can. After the marauder finished his share up he threw the bowls in the sink. “So those voices… are his friends?”

She chirped.

“Good, I thought I was hearing things.”

Chapter 5: Another Demon?

The Slayer woke up. He was groggy and didn’t remember much of what had happened, just blood, lots of blood. He looked around. He was in the infirmary lying on the operating table all stitched up. Poking at the stitches in his shoulder, he hissed in pain.

Samuel heard the Slayer and softly chimed into the room, “Good morning sweet prince.”

The Slayer sleepily grunted at the ceiling and motioned to his stitched up shoulder.

Vega chimed in, “Oh that. Yep you were attacked and we got you all stitched up. It wasn’t too terrible.” Vega’s voice had the slightest hint of anxiety to it which he was frantically on the back end of his processor trying to beat his anxious emotions to death with coding to not scare the man. The Slayer and the Marauder in the same confined space? He thought back to when he used to monitor the UAC base and he watched footage of two aggressive female barons of hell fighting to the death. If he could shiver he would at the thought of the two brutes meeting again.

The Slayer’s eyebrows raised when he heard Vega say ‘we.’ Scattered visions popped into his memory of the marauder, the cacodemon, how he had screamed…

“You were injured on Taras Nabad by a Cacodemon. Do you remember that?” Samuel was trying to ease him into the idea of living with the marauder for a bit, but that was just about as easy as easing someone into a pool of red hot lava.

Nodding ‘yes’, the man tested his stitches, sitting up and moving his shoulder around a bit. They held beautifully, he was impressed by Vega’s stitching, most of the time it was rather messy due to the shakiness of the robotic arms.

Samuel explained what happened to him while Vega tried to contain himself on the backend. He spoke slowly and softly. Desperately trying to glaze over the parts where they allowed the Slayer’s unconscious body to be in a room with a demon that had tried to kill him repeatedly. He watched the man tense up for half a moment when he told him that the marauder was still in the fortress. Then desperately tried to glaze over it with compliments on his performance.

The Slayer stood, holding onto the table for support just for a moment. He wanted to find Daisy and make sure she was ok. He couldn’t believe he left her behind. It was weird having to fight alongside another person and he still wasn’t quite used to the idea that he had another part of him detached, wandering around during a battle.

Vega snapped out of his silence, “They are in the kitchen. Please do not hurt him.”

The Slayer shrugged at the speaker and headed towards the kitchen. He slowly turned the corner and saw two sleeping figures, watching them for a few moments. Daisy was a ball of wings on a chair, slightly shifting as she breathed. The marauder was leaning back, snoring softly. His head lolled to the side, horns clacking softly against the chair, he was still fully armored and a majority of his face was hidden by his mask. The Slayer watched his chest rise and fall, completely vulnerable.

His hands balled into fists. After so many violent fights that left both of them gasping in agony as their wounds were stitched up, he was watching the marauder sleep. Should he wake him up? Kill him? The gleam of a kitchen knife in the pile of dirty dishes caught his attention. He tried desperately to push it to the back of his mind. No he shouldn’t kill the demon as much as he wanted to, he promised Vega he wouldn’t. He grabbed the marauder’s shoulder and shook him awake.

Slowly, the marauder opened his eyes and jerked back from the man. The man held him firm and simply patted the demon’s shoulder a few times. He let go and turned to scrounge through the cupboards. After losing so much blood, he could feel his body beg for food. He craved a hamburger, but knew it would send him into a terrible sickness.

The marauder sat up cautiously, eyes wide and absolutely terrified, rubbing his shoulder and watching the man. Was that a friendly gesture? Did the DoomSlayer really never speak? Was he going to have to deal with weird, awkward physical gestures while he spent his time here? He supposed by the fact that his face wasn’t blown off by a shotgun by now meant that it was truthfully a friendly gesture. He sat on the edge of his seat, figuratively and literally, making sure to never turn his back on the man.

The Slayer grabbed some more of the crackers out of the cupboard. These ones were not as stale as the others. He had been keeping them for a special occasion. This, he supposed, was special enough to break out his good cracker stash. He slid his helmet up just to expose his mouth and sat down at the opposite end of the table from the demon. He decided right then and there that he wouldn’t be removing his helmet in the company of the marauder as he was far too human-like.

Company. The word sounded weird inside his head, let alone if he were to write or speak it.

The marauder watched the Doom Slayer, the bane of hell himself, sit down at the table and eat stale crackers while avoiding eye contact with the demon. He expected more from the man, he was preparing to have him charge around the corner of the hallway and rip him to pieces for merely existing within a hundred miles of him. The vigor and fight was gone from him at the moment and he seemed quite content to eat crackers and stare at the marauder like he was no more interesting than a stain on the floor.

After waiting an uncomfortably long amount of time for the Slayer to begin the conversation he spoke up hoping that food would be a good way to break the uncomfortable silence, “Is that all you eat? Do you not have any better food around here? How do you not starve?” He knew he shouldn’t be so forward, this man could snap him like a twig, but after watching him eat so many stale crackers he simply had to know the reasoning.

The man paused for a second mid-bite, shrugged, swallowed, and continued eating.

Fantastic. He repeated the question again in two common dialects from Argent D’Nur and another common hellish language, all of which only earned him a confused stare. “Do you not talk?” The marauder looked up at the ceiling hoping for guidance from the voices he had heard earlier, “Voice in the ceiling does he not talk?”

Daisy had been awoken by the smell of crackers and poked her head up over the edge of the table, hopping onto the chair closest to the man chirping excitedly.

Vega chimed in, “Very rarely does he ever talk. If you have any questions I’ll try my best to answer them. My name is Vega.”

“Vega.” the marauder muttered for a moment, trying to commit the name to memory. He almost thanked Vega for helping him take care of the Slayer but he sensed he shouldn’t mention that around the man. “I see. Is there any food here? How can he survive on so little?”

The Slayer looked up at the ceiling then slid a hand full of crackers across the table to the marauder. The demon picked one of them up, sliding his face covering up for a moment and eating it. It tasted like... a cracker, a stale cracker.

“Well...” Vega’s processors whirred as he ran through the ship's data log. “I can make food for you if you wish. As for your second question, he doesn't require much food to survive.” Vega spoke in a scolding tone, “But he should try and take care of himself better. Especially considering that he’s injured now.”

The marauder watched as the Slayer let out an annoyed grunt. The man finished the crackers up and rolled up the bag. Reaching up, he snapped the helmet back down into place. Glaring across that table at the demon, he motioned to his arm. Even though it was armored, it was obvious he was favoring it quite a bit.

“What?” The marauder tilted his head.

The DoomSlayer almost chuckled at how goofy the demon’s big horns looked when he wasn’t being menacing. He spoke in a low raspy voice, the demon almost missed it, “W-why?” He motioned to his arm again.

“I’ve had the same question myself.” Vega chimed in. “What made you save him?” In a rather uncharacteristic moment Vega snapped at the demon, “It certainly wasn’t from the kindness in your heart.”

The Slayer shot a glance up at the speakers. Samuel lightly chuckled in his deep robotic way.

The marauder felt exposed and he pointed at Daisy. “I know her. She used to be my messenger, one of my friends. She convinced me to help you.”

“So you just spur of the moment hopped into a portal and left hell behind for a gargoyle?” Samuel seemed doubtful.

“Yes.” The marauder nodded and poured the crackers he had been given out of his hand. They softly clinked on the table. “I trust her judgment.”

The Slayer took out a pencil and a piece of paper from his tool belt and began to scribble out a note. ‘What are you running from?’ The Slayer handed him the note and let him take the time to read it.

The marauder was slightly terrified at how the Slayer had seen right through him. “I’m not running. It’s just there’s nothing left for me. My battalion, they were like family to me, the Khan killed them, put them on a suicide mission. Me and Daisy are the only ones left. I thought she was killed whenever the Khan sent her up here.”

He looked truly… broken, even more vulnerable than when he was sleeping. The Slayer nodded and wrote another note, ‘I know what it’s like to lose your battalion. Demons took mine.’ The Slayer handed the demon the note.

“I’m sorry.”

‘Don’t worry I’ve gotten plenty of revenge over the years.’

“Oh I don’t doubt it.” The marauder gave him a sad little smile.

Samuel yelled down from the ceiling, “Are you going soft Slayer? Another demon?”

Vega gasped and disconnected Samuel and the Slayer could hear them arguing rather ferociously down the hall.

The marauder looked over his shoulder towards the direction of the arguing, “Do they argue often?”

‘Once or twice a week.’ The Slayer shrugged, ‘The other one’s Samuel. I doubt he introduced himself.’

Daisy chirped and crawled onto the Slayer’s lap. She ran her mandibles over the man’s helmet in some attempt to groom him. The Slayer hugged her and held her tightly, still making sure to look over the demon's wings to keep an eye on the marauder.

The marauder cleared his throat and gave the voices arguing down the hall another awkward glance. “Do you truly want me to stay? I’d rather die in hell than by your hands, not to offend you.”

It took that statement for the man to realize how much power he held over this demon. The Slayer reached around Daisy and wrote another note, scooting it down the table to him, ‘Yes, I do. Ignore Samuel, he's a jerk.’

“Thank you then.” He nodded and popped a cracker into his mouth, taking time to chew it and avoid eye contact with the Slayer. He was fully expecting to be sent back and tried as a traitor, he had already prepared himself to accept the exile from the fortress of doom and now that he was staying he wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself.

The man stood carrying Daisy and dropped the demon into the marauder’s lap.

He looked surprised for a moment, “I thought she was yours now?”

The Slayer paused, leaning against the table, as he wrote a note he could see the marauder looking at his armor out of the corner of his eye, ‘We can share her.’

Having one piece of his normal life in hell back gave the marauder a rush of joy.

The Slayer held up his hand asking for the time, and Vega chimed back in momentarily to give it to him, “It’s 8:14 PM sir.” Then he promptly went back to ripping Samuel a new asshole for speaking out of turn.

The Slayer grumbled, he had gone to Taras Nabad at noon and now he had slept the rest of the day away. He’d have to go back soon or the demons he wasn’t able to kill would call for backups.

“Where should I clean and sleep?” The marauder wanted to curl up in a ball at how childish that sounded, like he was asking where the blankets and pillows were at during a sleepover.

The Slayer motioned for him to stand and follow. He did pause for a moment, where should the marauder sleep? Of course the demon would have to bathe in the Slayer’s bathroom simply because there weren't any other operational ones on the ship, but where should he sleep?

Vega chimed a notification into the Slayer’s helmet so he could see it privately, “There’s the couch also I believe we have a relatively intact mattress in one of the storage rooms, should I use the mod bots to bring it up?”

The Slayer nodded and began walking down the hallway, the marauder keeping pace beside him.

The demon was looking all around up at the ceiling, the albums that were framed on the walls, the one moss patch growing in the corner that the Slayer had named Herbert. “It’s sentinel…”

The Slayer nodded and pointed at him with a questioning look.

“Me? I was a sentinel, but you know…” He motioned to his face.

The Slayer led him into his workshop. That really excited the demon. He was looking around at everything: the books, the comics, the toys, the random bit of armor.

The Slayer paused for a moment and took his storage puck off his belt and placed it into a little container on the wall. It immediately drew his weapons out of the tiny warp dimension within the puck and transported them onto the wall.

The marauder stopped and stared at the impressive collection of guns, “Wow.” No demon had ever seen what he was seeing, the inner workings of the fortress of doom which had terrorized their invasion for months and the Slayer who had terrorized hell for eons.

The Slayer led him into his room. There, Vega’s mod bots were putting sheets on the mattress they had brought up. It looked rather shoddy compared to the Slayer’s nice bed but the mattress was still thick even though it was on the floor. The man motioned to it, seeing if the demon approved.

“You didn’t have to do this all for me. I could have slept on the floor.” The marauder felt nervous. What if the Slayer decided to kick him out if he was too much? He rushed over and helped the mod bots put the sheets on.

The Slayer chuckled at how timid the demon was being, and opened the door to the bathroom. ‘You wash first. There’s blood on your arm.’

The marauder tried to wipe the dried brown crust off, realizing that it was blood from the Slayer, after a short unsuccessful attempt he went into the bathroom.

The Slayer sighed and laid across the foot of his bed, not caring how dirty his armor was for once. It was strange though, he was expecting himself to be upset and ask “Really? A demon, AGAIN?” but he wasn’t upset in the slightest.

He supposed that maybe coming so close to death made him see that certain demon in a different way, but he couldn’t explain it. Daisy chirred and sat beside him, resting her head next to his.

The marauder poked his head out of the bathroom, he had to tilt his head sideways to get his horns out of the small gap, “I apologize for bothering you, what should I wear after I get out of the bath?”

The Slayer got up, Daisy protested and whined as he got up from cuddling. He grabbed a t-shirt that was too large for him and a loose fitting pair of jogging pants, tossing them to the demon. He assumed he had underwear, since he really didn’t want to share that with a demon.

He grabbed them and closed the door, repeatedly thanking the silent man.

The Slayer laid back down and listened as the demon ran bath water. Daisy curled up by his shoulder and began licking at the blood on his armor that was staining his sheets with dried flecks of demon.

This was so fucking weird.

Chapter 6: Misconceptions and "Mange, s'il te"

The Slayer woke up to a soft sound and a door closing. His hand absentmindedly ran up to touch the armor that hid his aching wound from the cacodemon as he came to his senses and sat up, the marauder and Daisy nowhere to be seen, the bathroom door wide open.

His first thought was to ignore their disappearance and get a shower but he hesitated as he sat up. Focusing on that soft noise he heard earlier he could now make out the sound of someone crying. He peeked his head out of the bedroom and saw the marauder curled up around Daisy. They both sat on the floor watching the earth slowly spin outside the window in his workshop. The larger demon was wiping aggressively at his face, trying to shove his emotions down until they surrendered.

He walked down and only got a few steps into the room before his very unstealthy self was detected. Daisy put herself between them and held up her wing, giving the demon privacy from the Slayer. With one look at that he nodded and turned back into the bedroom and into the bathroom. He took his suit off, placing it into a chute so Vega could take care of cleaning it, well at least the heavy off of it. Of course, he still had his helmet on though.

He decided to get a shower and washed off all the grime and dirt from his body. Unlike most of his pensive shower sessions, he didn’t even think about anything interesting or worry about demons in his home during this shower. He wondered why the marauder was upset but he tried not to think about it. The longer he stayed in the shower the more he felt like he needed to go out and comfort the demon.

Comfort the demon. He had truly gone soft hadn’t he? Yet when he looked at the two demons in his home the first thing his mind thought of was roommates and pets rather than harboring the enemy.

He toweled off and dressed in the pajamas he brought in. Putting his helmet on, he sighed and toweled off the metal. He walked into the bedroom and upon seeing that the marauder and Daisy had returned. He flopped into bed, the sheets were fresh and warm. Vega must’ve changed them.

Both the marauder and Daisy were curled up on his mattress on the floor, they both faced away from him and he could hear the marauder whispering to her.

He held up his hand.

Vega dimmed the lights slowly, until he was in darkness.

After a while he heard the marauder shuffle in his bed, snoring softly through his partial nose.

He hated to admit it but he struggled to find any sleep that night. His bed felt a thousand miles wide and freezing cold without Daisy curled up next to him, her warm breath and body heating him up.

When he finally fell asleep from exhaustion he woke up to a loud crunch, and he jolted up.

The marauder was sitting hunched over on his mattress chewing a mouthful of cereal. He was staring at the floor and it took him a moment before he glanced up to meet the Slayer’s gaze. He chewed for a few more moments and swallowed before he spoke. “How’s your arm?”

The Slayer nodded and motioned to his arm. It did feel somewhat better, and the bright red angry skin around the stitches had subsided. Daisy was still fast asleep in the demon’s bed. He pointed at the marauder and mimed crying.

“I’m fine.” He bobbed his head and shoved another mouthful of cereal into his mouth.

He decided not to pry and stood, hobbling into the bathroom, brushing his teeth and washing his face. He saw Vega had already cleaned his armor and undersuit. He grabbed his mesh, and looked at the fabric on the shoulder, a dozen tiny black wires were severed. It would be easy to fix. He walked over to the nightstand and grabbed a notebook, ‘Do you need your armor cleaned?’

He didn’t want the Slayer anywhere near the one physical defense he had against him. “It’s not that dirty, just some blood.” The demon gulped down the last of his cereal in case today was the day the Slayer would remove him from the fortress. He then picked up his gauntlet from the pile he had placed his armor in on the floor and wiped the stains on it with his hand, “Yeah it’s fine.”

The Slayer was taken aback at how he could stand to wear such disgusting armor. He shook his head and grabbed the armor pile, plucking the dirty gauntlet from the demon's hands. He scribbled out a messy note as he held the armor, ‘This is awful, I’ll clean it.’

The marauder felt nervous at how much the Slayer was doing for him and he followed the man into the workshop, and a few minutes later a groggy Daisy followed them out. His mind swam with the scene of the man breaking his precious armor to pieces.

The Slayer handed him a piece of shoulder armor, expecting him to clean it with the same precision that he did, but the demon grabbed a rag and just wiped the heavy off. The Slayer shook his head and pointed at his office chair.

“You want me to sit down?” The marauder tilted his head, then it dawned on him, “You don’t like how I clean my armor?” He was tempted to stand up for himself but he realized that this tiny angry man could probably snap him in half. “Ok thank you.” He sat down in the chair that felt just a bit too small, “I feel bad just watching you.”

Vega answered from the ceiling, “I’m sure he appreciates the company.”

They both sat in silence for a bit, the marauder stroking Daisy’s head she had curled up on the desk of the Slayer’s computers. He tried to ride the waves of anxiety he felt and eventually it reached a peak he didn’t think he was going to be able to come down from without a distraction so he spoke, “Isn’t that bothering your arm?”

The Slayer shook his head, the motions were repetitive but he was being careful. He carefully used a thin screwdriver to dig out gunk between the crevices and carvings of the metal.

“Are the stitches I put in holding up good?” The marauder went cold with fear as he watched the man look up at the ceiling and stop cleaning. Did he not know?

The Slayer turned around and pointed to his stitches before writing a note, ‘I thought you might have done them, you did a good job.’ He wasn’t sure how he felt about being that vulnerable around a demon, but he was alive so he couldn’t be so evil.

He let out a relieved sigh and realized he needed to steer the conversation towards something simple and easy. He rested his chin on his hand. His eyes caught on some records the Slayer had resting on his desk. He remembered learning how to play one of those records in hell on a little square machine; his friend, a mancubus, had figured it out. “Do you like music? We used to have a little machine to play those records.”

The Slayer looked over his shoulder at the stack of various metal and rock bands. ‘Yeah. How did dumb demons figure that out?’

For the first time excitement at the conversation overrode the fear he felt. “We aren’t dumb. A mancubus in my old battalion, he would really gently put the record on with his big arm cannons, and oh if he broke a record he’d swear like you couldn’t imagine!” The marauder had a grin on his face, but it faded. “They’re all gone now.” He scooped Daisy off the desk and pulled her close. She buried her head under his chin.

The Slayer was going to give another laugh at the idea of a mancubus being gentle but it changed to a barely audible sound as he heard the demon’s fate. It was quite possible he could have murdered that mancubus. He knew the marauder said the Khan sent them on suicide mission, but any mission against him was a suicide mission. ‘How’d they pass?’

“Well they were on their way to fight you, but the Khan wanted them to ‘get the jump on you’ and sneak under the main bridge on the ARC complex. They drowned in that purple sludge. Such a waste…” He sighed and rubbed his read.

The Slayer caught himself just before he wrote ‘I’m sorry’ on a paper. That would be a bit disingenuous, considering the fact he was the number one killer of demons. He just nodded, he certainly knew how awful it felt to lose your companions or bad leadership and people pushing the bounds of science. ‘Is that what you were upset about last night?’ He passed him the note and turned around not waiting for a response in case the marauder didn’t feel like giving one.

The marauder stared at the back of the man’s helmeted head. He fiddled with the note running his finger along the soft torn edge where he had plucked it from his notebook. “Yeah, I think this is just the first time I’ve had time to grieve. The Khan just kept giving assignments, it doesn't matter if your horde is dead, she always has demands. Last night was the first time I could just think, you know?”

The man nodded, ‘I hate showers because of that. Too much time alone just thinking, thinking about stuff you regret.’

The marauder only responded with a sad nod.

After probably fifteen minutes of silence, the Slayer handed the demon a note, ‘If you’d like you could keep asking me questions.’

The marauder fiddled with the note for a second, curling the edges of it unsure of how to continue the frightening conversation. “Do you have any lairs in hell?” The awkwardness of not at least attempting to appear helpful while the Slayer slaved over his armor finally got to him and he stood up and leaned against the workshop bench, so he could get a better view of the Slayer. “You probably just live up here and teleport around, don’t you?”

He nodded yes, not seeing how that was an interesting question. Especially considering the marauder answered it himself in five seconds.

“Interesting.” The marauder nodded his head and motioned down towards earth. “Some demons saw you walking out of a cave once and everyone just assumed you lived in every crack and crevice.”

Now that actually got a chuckle out of the Slayer. He glanced over at his new roommate that easily towered over him, at least he seemed to have a bit of personality not that the Slayer was much of the social sort.

“Do you have any powers like flying?” He pointed at the man, “I mean you have too, right? If you are the same marine for all those centuries.”

The Slayer shook his head. ‘No powers and yeah same dude.’

“Wait, don’t you don’t even belch flames?” The marauder leaned in, confused, his eyes narrowing as if he doubted that the man before him was the Slayer.

The Slayer snorted, the marauder’s confidence actually took him off guard, ‘No, I have a flame belch. It’s a little mini flamethrower on my shoulder.’ He gave the demon a raised eyebrow which he was almost certain he couldn’t see.

“Really?” He leaned back and laughed, it was short and sounded like cold air rushing over hot coals, “Everyone thinks you have super bad hellish heartburn. That’s one of the leading theories of why you’re so angry!”

He gave a genuine laugh, and coughed when he felt a sharp pain in his forever achy throat. ‘I’m just an angry guy. No heartburn involved.’

“Do you remember all of it? All the fighting?” Daisy squirmed out of his hands and explored the Slayers workbench, examining the marauder’s armor.

The Slayer paused, ‘Yes and no. I can remember killing each Imp, how I ripped them apart, but I have trouble remembering stretches of time. Everything before the coffin is just a blur now.’ He patted the inquisitive Daisy’s head and she let out a purr.

The marauder read the note, interested. “Every Imp…” he whispered to himself, numbers like that he couldn’t even fathom. Millions? Billions? Trillions?

‘I have a question.’

The marauder took the note and read it, tilting his head he stared as the Slayer continued writing, “What could you possibly ask me? I thought you knew everything about hell.”

‘I just go there and kill.’ He handed the marauder another note, ‘Is it normal for there to be color variants of demons? Like yellow imps, pitch black hell knights, and iridescent white gargoyles.’

Daisy perked her head up and listened intently.

The marauder seemed surprised, “I can’t believe you’ve seen a melanistic hell night. Most of the time they are seen as bad omens and killed. But as for the weird colors they are just mutations. Like albino, melanistic, piebald, or morphs I can’t think of them all. They are extremely rare.” The marauder tried to even fathom how many demons this man has seen to see that many morphs. Trillions was probably a low estimate. “I have a question. Do you drink demon blood?”

The Slayer wrinkled his nose and shook his head, ‘No!’ He wrote out underlining it several times.

“So you really only eat crackers? By the wraiths, that's sad.” The marauder pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.

‘Well I think they taste plenty good.’ He had a sly look on his face, entirely hidden to the marauder.

“So you don’t burp flames, you don’t drink demon blood, you don’t eat normal, actually good tasting food, and you don’t live in a crevice in the ground.” The demon listed each one off, counting on his fingers in an exaggerated way.

‘I’m afraid I’m not nearly as terrifying as most of the legends make me out to be.’ When he wasn’t working the man wasn’t much different than the humans he worked to save. He would stay up late playing games, sleep twisted up in too many blankets, walk into rooms only to forget what he was doing in the first place. He certainly didn’t fit the description of a demigod when he was in the fortress. On the battlefield not only did he act like the near immortal Slayer he was, he felt like it too… apparently until a cacodemon bit down on him just right and this demon somehow ended up in his life.

“Is it true you never speak? I mean when I was fixing up your wounds I thought I heard you talk.” The marauder leaned in his clawed hands pushing him off the desk, intent for an answer.

He was greeted with a rough raspy voice. It sounded like the Slayer was gargling sandy gravel while also getting kicked in the balls, “Sometimes.” Daisy chirped in response and he grinned. He then handed the marauder a note, ‘It hurts to talk. I don’t have much to say.’

“Yeah I suppose it would get lonely up here.” The marauder looked around.

The Slayer glanced up at the cold metal walls, then back down at the armor, before writing another short note, ‘Yeah.’

The marauder looked down suddenly remembering that his armor was being cleaned. “It looks as shiny as the day I was transformed!” He picked up a piece of shoulder armor the Slayer had just finished. “Thank you.”

The man shook his head, because, of course, he wasn’t done yet. He bent down and picked up a little metal container. Opening its lid, he took out a glob of a strange gel and rubbed it on the leather straps that were connected to the armor.

The marauder watched, then copied the Slayer, rubbing the gel on the leather straps attached to the shoulder armor he had picked up. He stood next to the man and tried to match the Slayer’s vigor in cleaning, for some reason he hoped to earn the praise of the man. “What will this stuff do?”

The Slayer paused, wiping his hands off on a rag and wrote a rather lengthy note, ‘It keeps the leather from breaking or wearing down. Which is probably important for you since one single strap holds your nipple back from the world.’

The marauder's eyes shot open and he burst into laughter. “Hey I only told the priests that I wanted badass armor!” He held up his mask to his face, “And they certainly came through.”

‘It’s like bikini armor. I haven’t ever fought a demon as scantily clad as you.’ The Slayer shook his head, his amusement at the situation only visible by his eye creases and his head shaking with silent laughter. He continued cleaning the leather.

The marauder teased the Slayer, hoping that he was successfully matching the man’s vague social signals, “Oh so that’s why you’re letting me stay? Hmmm?”

The Slayer rolled his eyes, in an exaggerated way using his entire body and flicked a note to the marauder, ‘Oh you can dream.’

They laughed and talked for a while longer, actually enjoying each other’s presence. The Slayer was happy he could finally write to someone that understood what it’s like to just fight and fight and fight, it was like he finally was talking to one of his old army buddies again. The marauder was also enjoying the company. Sure it still felt bitter sweet that his horde could no longer walk with him in life, but at least he found a new, dare he even say it, friend.

They were interrupted by Daisy nibbling at both of their hands.

“Daisy what is it?” The marauder scooped up the little angry creature and smooched her head.

“Perhaps she is hungry? It’s been 15 hours since she last ate. It’s also about time for you to eat. I’ve made you and the marauder meals, no more crackers.” Vega gently scolded the Slayer from the ceiling, it must be his favorite thing to do considering often he chides the man.

The Slayer grumbled, despite knowing Vega was right. ‘Fine. Let’s go eat.’

The marauder perked up at the sound of food, specifically what the Slayer was going to eat.

They walked to the kitchen, well the Slayer and marauder walked, Daisy sprinted down the halls like a bat out of hell.

They walked into the kitchen to see three fresh hot meals on the table. Daisy was sitting down already slobbering at the scent.

“Thank you Vega, this looks great.” The marauder had a big toothy grin on his face.

Vega was pleased, “You’re welcome. Think nothing of it, just enjoy.” He thought that keeping all of them very well fed could help to decrease levels of aggression. He also had tried his best to dim down the red color that radiated from the fortress not wanting to have its association with aggression anywhere near the group.

The marauder and Slayer sat down. The demon dug into the food, absolutely ravenous. There was a big pile of mashed potato, some cubes of cooked meat, and a little pile of broccoli.

The marauder went straight to the meat, tearing into it with his teeth, he hadn’t realized how hungry he was. That last time he had truly feasted with his horde was weeks ago.

The Slayer on the other hand, picked around at the food, just barely eating some mashed potatoes. He was uncomfortable and his stomach was not helping the situation as it twisted at the very thought of any sort of food. Most of the time he could simply leave and no matter how much Vega begged and pleaded with him he could be ignored. The idea of doing something that childish and leaving the marauder sitting at the table made him oddly embarrassed.

Before Vega could attempt to convince the man to eat the marauder spoke up, “Hey Doomguy! Why aren’t you eating?”

The man looked up at hearing his name or the closest thing he had to one.

“Sorry, should I call you Slayer or DoomGuy?” He sat there staring at the man. His only thought was concern that he had overstepped some hidden boundary and the Slayer was angry. Did humans pray before meals? Maybe that’s what he got wrong. Was the Slayer supposed to eat first since he was the most powerful? He was snapped out of his thoughts by the answer to the question he forgot he had asked being slid across the table.

‘Either, but Slayer is what I prefer.’

Then after a brief pause another came sliding across.

‘I just feel a bit weak and tired. I don’t wanna eat.’

“You need to eat soon, symptoms of weakness and tiredness are likely from lack of food, especially with that wound on your arm.” Vega hated how nagging he sounded. “I’m aware you’ve gone through worse but if you want to keep up cleansing the demonic presence from earth you have to keep up your strength.”

The marauder reached over to the Slayer’s plate stabbing some of the meat with a fork and held it up to the man’s lips. It wasn’t forceful and the marauder didn’t look annoyed or angry, he looked concerned. The man, miraculously, bit into the food then snatched the fork off the marauder, annoyed at the forwardness of the demon’s action and began eating.

If Vega had a physical platform he’d give the marauder a fist bump. He knew It would take more convincing for the man to follow a more healthy diet but the marauder was able to do something he couldn’t do after nearly a whole year of working together. It made the AI wonder.

Chapter 7: He’ll Enjoy the Company

Notes:

Take a look at this amazing screenshot of the Marauder, the Slayer, and Daisy made by GavImp

I can’t thank you enough it looks AWESOME!!!

The Slayer gasped and sat up, a cold clammy sweat made his heart race. Steam… he needed to burn off some steam. His heart pounded as if he was knee deep in the dead.

Logically he was well aware it was anxiety. That was a foe he was more familiar with than most demons. He could only rest for so long before it felt like he heart was going to leap out of his chest if he wasn’t covered in demon blood in a few moments. The belly full of food he had also wasn’t helping and his body felt uncomfortably heavy.

Less logically he felt like he was going to die if he didn’t scramble towards the portal and shoot something in the face. Maybe it was a blessing that he had some mechanism inside him that needed to kill every so often. It was probably the only thing that had kept him alive this long.

He rushed out of bed. Daisy, who was curled up at the foot of his bed, stirred slightly and let out a weak chirp. The marauder was laying on his own mattress on the floor, his arms and legs stretched out. The Slayer watched as the demon's chest rose and fell, and the tiny snore came out of the demon's nose.

He remembered now, after they ate, they finished up cleaning the armor and then he fell asleep in his room while the two demons rested and watched a movie out in the workshop. How long had he slept? He held up his hand and Vega chimed into his helmet so as not to wake up the demons.

“It’s 4:51 AM.”

The Slayer carefully stood up and tiptoed out into the workshop, grabbing his arsenal off the wall, and slipping each gun into his storage puck.

He grabbed his trusty super shotgun, feeling along the long smooth metal of the barrels. A shiver ran down his spine. While, yes, he should be resting his arm, he decided he was going out.

He needed to. The lust for killing demons couldn’t be satisfied by good company and food. He turned, to look over his shoulder at the sleeping figures in his bedroom before leaving. He hoped they wouldn’t mind him mercilessly killing their brothers and sisters. He quietly put his armor on and headed to the main deck with the portal.

Vega could see the man’s intentions and silently powered up the portal. He was well aware of his need to kill anxieties and knew stopping him was out of the question. He watched as the man turned around and gave Vega’s speakers a nod and a wave before stepping back to Taras Nabad to finally retrieve his crucible, and this time he wouldn’t be forced to leave due to injuries.

A while after he left the marauder stirred from his rest on his mattress. He was fine with sleeping on the floor, more than fine actually, but he did envy Daisy’s prime real estate on the Slayer’s cushy bed, but she wasn’t there any more.

He got up and wandered through the hallways, poking his head into the bathroom, kitchen, and even the hull of the ship. Where the hell did Doomguy go? He paused and thought for a second, the cool air coming up from the hull made him shiver. He walked up to the main deck and found Daisy begging at the portal, trying to get Vega to let her through.

“No. Bad Daisy.” Vega sighed as she scratched at the portal frame. It was so pathetic he almost wanted to open it for her. “He will be back soon.”

“Screech.”

“Daisy.”

“SCREEECH!”

“Dai-“

“SCREEEEEECCCCHHHH!!”

The marauder scooped Daisy up despite her protests, “You heard Vega he’ll be back in a little bit.” He was secretly relieved to be away from the suffocating presence of the Slayer for a moment, but he was also scared to be alone with the suffocating presence of his own thoughts.

Daisy whined and nodded. She looked absolutely pathetic. Why would the Slayer leave without her? She was too weak, did he not want to fight with her anymore?

“Hey come on, you wanna wait for him to come back?” He gently poked the demon’s wings.

Daisy perked up and nodded. In a flurry and wings and blades she kicked herself out of his arms and landed on the metal floor with a thud.

“Vega, could you send us some breakfast?” He hopped up on a console, careful not to sit on anything that looked too important. The last thing he wanted was his ass setting off an alarm.

“Of course!” Vega’s voice had a pleasant ring to it. “Also would you be willing to answer a few questions for me?” A bot hovered in with some apple sauce and a container of some yogurt.

The marauder took the yogurt and nodded, “Sure what is it?” He opened the tinfoil lid, getting the yogurt on his thumb in the process.

“How did you get Doomguy to eat?” Vega thought he would be more hurt at how quickly the man had folded to the marauder but instead he found himself excited. Though he did want to learn how he could harness this power of persuasion to help his dear friend.

The marauder licked his thumb, cleaning the yogurt off of it. “I was wondering the same thing. Maybe cause I’m like, here and physical? But he listens to you on a lot of things it seems.” The tiny details the Slayer and Vega seemed to disagree, like brushing teeth and a balanced diet, but on but they both would work together for larger goals.

“That’s the only thing I could think of. There were plans to give me a physical form but, alas, after the demonic invasion they were lost.”

“I’m sorry to hear that Vega. I didn’t mean to come in and take away your friendship with the Slayer.” The marauder was twiddling the plastic spoon that came with his yogurt between his fingers. “Are you mad?”

“Of course not! The Slayer has never been happier.” Vega seemed excited. He had never seen the friendship of a human nor a demon up close, nor had anyone really. “If you want complete privacy,” he said with a cheery voice, “I recommend the Slayer’s bathroom. I very rarely access that area to respect his privacy.”

The marauder chuckled nervously, he was glad Vega wasn’t mad but he felt awkward. “Oh, I’ll keep that in mind?”

“He has increased serotonin and dopamine production when he’s around you. He seems to truly enjoy your presence. In fact I’ve calculated he seems to enjoy being around you as much as he does when he plays a game on his personal computer or engages in other relaxing activities. Most of the time he can be erratic and nervous while cleaning armor, but he has significantly decreased levels of cortisol in his body when he was with you.” Vega’s program forced him to take a small pause as a way to primitively mimic the breath of humans to make his speech sound more natural. As soon as it was over his speech rushed to catch up with the backlog of thoughts, “The hours he spends sleeping have increased and waking events have become extremely limited. He’s 35% less likely to engage in anxious behaviors when Daisy is in the room and 76% less likely when both you and Daisy are in the room.” He quickly realized that he had overshared too much and shut his speakers off, too embarrassed to apologize to the marauder. If the Slayer found out he logged data like that so often he would very likely be annoyed.

“Vega, you forgot to tell him the pH concentration in his saliva.” Samuel mockingly whispered to him as he retreated into the deepest file he could find.

While the rush of information was off-putting the marauder ate the rest of the yogurt, thinking about what Vega said. So he actually wanted to be around him. It felt nearly insane that the Slayer would want to hangout with a demon. It made him feel oddly giddy that the man felt less anxious around him, sure he got a bit nervous being around him. Now that he knew that the Slayer wasn’t plotting to get rid of him he felt those nervous feelings disappear.

Daisy nervously poked at the applesauce. “Chirrrr?”

“You can eat it.” The marauder picked the cup up and grabbed a spoon. “Come here.”

Daisy leaped up on the console and gave the food a sniff.

The marauder scooped some up in the spoon and held it out to her. “Eat.”

She very gently nibbled the apple sauce and, after waiting for a few moments and deciding she liked it, gobbled down the rest of it right out of the cup in the marauder’s hand.

“See, it was good.” The marauder gently patted her head. “Can you see him, Vega?” He felt even more curious about the Slayer now that Vega had given him some insight into what was happening under the man’s helmet. He now was actually wanting the Slayer to return so he could talk more with him.

Vega rushed out from his hiding spot deep in his files, “Yes and no. I have a body cam mounted on his helmet to monitor where he is, it’s currently covered in blood, but I can see he’s still moving on GPS so I’m not worried.” He pulled up a map that replaced the hologram of earth. It showed a tiny blue dot moving through a sea of red. Suddenly the dot started dashing and swinging around.

The marauder leaned on the edge of the console, “Is he fighting now?”

“Either that or platforming, it’s hard to tell the difference sometimes.”

“Huh…” the marauder watched the dot for a while longer. “So you just watch him all day?”

“No, most of the time me and Samuel talk and monitor his vitals. There’s a surprising amount of downtime when you’re watching a super weapon.”

After discarding their remnants of breakfast, the marauder continued chit chatting with Vega, enjoying the AI. He honestly wasn’t sure what else to do. Everything was the Slayer’s and he didn’t dare walk into any room without explicit permission. Besides, he wanted to be the first thing the man saw when he came home from his mission, “So why doesn’t the robot talk much?”

“Oh Samuel?” Vega was half paying attention to the marauder and half monitoring the Slayer.

“Yeah he talked a few times then disappeared!” He looked up at the robot's hovering torso. “Hello?”

“He’s a bitter old man. Plus he hates demon nearly as much as the Slayer-“

“You know I’m right! Both of those demons are only here to steal the demonic crucible.” His voice went lower and more viscous than the marauder thought possible.

“Have you not been paying attention you ass? Their battalion was killed and they didn’t have a reason to ally with hell anymore!”

The marauder winced and watched the blue dot a little more closely. He’d never let the Slayer meet the same fate as his battalion. He could hear the two voices begin to argue then they both disconnected to argue down in the hull.

After a long silence only broken by shouts from the hull, the marauder spotted something wedged high up in the roof, “Daisy go fly up and get that thing.”

The gargoyle chirped, seeing what the demon was talking about. She flapped her large pinkish wings and launched herself upwards. Hooking a bladed arm into the thing and launching it down to the floor. It bounced and almost smashed into the marauder’s head.

He caught it with two hands and examined it, “It’s a little ball! I wonder if the Slayer lost it?” He couldn’t imagine why the burly man would be playing with a ball, or it might even be older, from a sentinel.

Daisy leaped down from the ceiling, as graceful as a petal and examined it too, tilting her head to look at it with her beady yellow eyes.

It was white with red stitching on either side. The marauder vaguely remembered seeing a poster in one of the ruined human cities that showed a man throwing a ball like this one to a young kid. “It’s a baseball, interesting!” He tossed it up in the air and watched how fixated Daisy was on it. He wasn’t sure what about the ball had activated her instinct to kill.

“Daisy, go get it!” He threw the ball down one of the hallways of the fortress, sending Daisy careening after it. She was a ball of wings and blades as she sprinted after the ball, catching it and sprinting back with it in her mouth.

She ran back and hopped up onto the console, dropping the baseball and making the demon throw it once more. This time as he pulled his arm back the slobber made the ball fly backwards out of his fingers.

“CLANG!”

He spun around and laid eyes upon the Slayer who had just walked through the portal, the baseball bouncing off his armor. Blood was pouring off of him. Clotted strands of viscera fell to the floor with a squelch. The green of his armor was entirely crimson, the sticky red was in between every groove and bump.

It was disgusting.

The marauder supposed this was the dirty part of his fight against hell, the side that hell didn’t see, cleanup. He was already queasy but suddenly the stench of iron and rotted flesh filled the room, he coughed, trying not to gag. Daisy tucked her wings in, trying to hide behind the marauder.

The Slayer didn’t even acknowledge them; he simply tread right on past. His steps were slow and methodically, more machine than man. It was obvious the man was tired and aching, but miraculously he was completely unharmed. Even though his body drooped with exhaustion, his head was held high and in his grasp was the crucible at long last.

He tightened his grip upon the weapon and disappeared into the halls of the fortress, leaving bloody footprints in his wake. Neither demon followed. They stood in silence, for them this was something holy to bear witness too. He was a true cleanser of hell, they both had known that, but this? This branded the fear of the mark of the Slayer into their very hearts.

Daisy scurried under the consoles and let out a nervous chirp. Her wings were pressed against her sides tightly and she folded her head under them.

The marauder on the other hand had a sudden urge to follow the Slayer. He took one cautious step towards the hallway the man had walked down and glanced up at a speaker for guidance.

Vega spoke softly, “Go, he’ll enjoy the company.” He then powered up a small army of cleaning bots to wipe the bloody grime off the floor.

The marauder nodded and let out a little tiny, “Ok...” He walked down the hall, following the snail trial of blood that was now being wiped up by the robots. Every footstep he took seemed to echo in an ungodly loud volume. After treading carefully down the hallway, he stood in front of the door to the man’s workshop. The door, sensing his presence, opened with a clang loud enough to wake the undead.

The marauder almost fainted on the spot; the man surely knew he was there by now. He slipped inside, still following the blood trail, and looked at some of his broken armor laid out on the workbench. It seemed his breast plate had taken a beating this time. The marauder gently picked it up, wiping the blood off of it and examined the damage. Nothing a little hammering couldn’t fix up. He looked down at the blood trail and followed it into the Slayer’s bedroom.

The door opened with the slightest creak. It had always been well hidden in the wall, textured to look just like another piece of metal. He supposed that helped protect a sleeping Slayer if the base would get attacked. It was one of the first things Slayer had shown him... perhaps the man really did trust him.

He shuffled inside, looking around the room. His eyes were drawn to the pile of bloody armor haphazardly tossed in a pile on the middle of the floor. The bathroom door was cracked open ever so slightly.

“It would be rude to go in there...” The marauder stared at the door.

“He requested for you to come it.” Vega chimed softly from the ceiling.

“Really?” The marauder glanced up at the speaker before continuing to stare at the door. “He wants me?”

“Yes.” Vega immediately disconnected from both the bedroom and the bathroom to give them some privacy.

The marauder edged the door open and stepped inside. He was immediately met with a jet of water soaking his face. He leapt back in terror until he realized the source was the Slayer, still adorned with his helmet, holding a small plastic water gun lounging in a bathtub. The man was howling in laughter, “g-got...cha.” He struggled to make out the words.

The marauder grabbed a towel from the counter of the sink and wiped his face off. “You scared me, asshole.” He smiled and glanced at the Slayer, blessed by the fact that it was a bubble bath so he couldn’t see anything more intimate than a nipple.

The Slayer dipped the plastic gun into the water, refilling it. He then pointed it at the demon, threateningly waving it around.

“Don’t.” The marauder grabbed the towel and held it up as a shield, peeking over the top of it.

The man cackled and aimed the gun.

“Don’t you DARE!” The marauder ducked behind the towel and felt a splash against the fabric. He stuck his head up to mock that he hadn't gotten wet. When he was met with a jet of water to his forehead.

The Slayer was absolutely howling in wheezy laughter. His sides shook the bubbles in the tub. His armored head leaned back and clinked against the tub.

The marauder wiped his face off and walked over to the tub. Flopping down with his back turned to it, he leaned his head back too, relaxing in the presence of the Slayer. He couldn’t explain to himself how he was feeling right now… happy? It felt more than that though.

The man reached up and poked the demon's horns, grabbing it and pulling the marauder closer to get a better look. After a thorough look he released the demon and declared, “P-pretty cool.”

The marauder turned to face him, paying special attention to only make eye contact not to look at his pecs, “Oh you think my horns are pretty?” He felt embarrassed but also proud, “Thanks.” He mumbled.

“P-pretty c-cool, I meant.” The Slayer nodded and grunted back a confirmation too afraid to attempt to speak again.

His face went red and he faced straight ahead, “Sorry.”

There was a long grueling silence and the marauder wondered several times if the Slayer had only wanted to spray him with the water gun and expected him to leave.

He had a burning question that was forefront in his mind ever since he left hell, “Did you happen to get my axe when you went to retrieve your crucible?”

The water shifted and the Slayer grumbled, the marauder turned to watch him shake his head no.

“Do you think I could go back and grab it?” He nervously watched the Slayer’s face.

The man’s voice rumbled out, “No weapons.”

The marauder tried pleading with the man, “It’s not just a weapon though.”

He shook his head no and the marauder stopped the argument before it continued, turning away from the tub. What Vega said bounced around in his head until he couldn’t hold it back anymore, “I was talking with Vega and he said you have anxiety.” He stared ahead; the only indication of the Slayer’s response was the sound of his helmet bumping against the side of the tub in what he assumed was a nod. He hesitated on how he wanted to continue, “I never expected you to be so-“

A voice like violence and the rumbling of stone spoke, “Pathetic?” The Slayer offered and broke down in a coughing fit. He rubbed his throat when it subsided, eyes squeezed shut at the pain.

The marauder blinked in surprise, “No, I never expected you to be so normal.” He turned to face the man, “I expected you were some dumb sentinel meathead that won Daisy over with food or some sort of robot.” The demon made eye contact with the Slayer, the light reflected off his helmet and for a split second he could finally make out a pair of sharp eyes staring up at him. “The last word I’d use to describe you is pathetic. You’d probably use my ribs as toothpicks if I did.”

The Slayer sank down into the tub until half the helmet and his face was submerged, pondering what the marauder had said.

“I’ll leave you to your bath.” He tidied up from the squirt gun massacre putting towels back on racks and straightening them in a way he thought would please the OCD ways of the Slayer. He took one last look back at the man in his large tub, “The last time I saw so much water in one place was when I was a sentinel.”

Chapter 8: The Beach Episode

As soon as the Slayer was out of the tub he practically herded the marauder down into the depths of the fortress, Daisy was still a bit skittish around him and remained tucked under Vega’s console on the main deck. His movements were animated and excited as he opened the door to a large room with a rectangular pool in the center of it. Everything was made from thick smooth stone and metal with seams that fit together almost perfectly. It was elegant, and it was sentinel.

The marauder was amazed at the large pool; he had never seen so much clear water in decades. A strange sharp scent lingered in the air. He held his hand up to his face, slightly afraid to breathe it in.

The Slayer tilted his head at the demon’s odd behavior and pointed up to Vega’s speakers, who immediately chimed in, “You’re smelling chlorine, a much more human invention. Don’t worry it’s mostly harmless. I take care of the pool and everything is at its proper levels.”

“Oh... ok...” The marauder removed his hand from his face and glanced down fearfully at the water. “It’s been so long since I’ve swam. I don’t know if I remember how too.”

Doomguy just gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder, and fished a pair of swim trunks and a shirt out of a pool storage cabinet, and threw them at the demon.

He caught it, carefully holding the swim trunks and shirt in his hands. The thin fabric was much unlike his traditional heavy armor plating.

Vega chimed down once more, “There is a door to your right you can get dressed in there.” The marauder nodded and headed inside, quickly changing out of his armor and into the swim trunks. The fabric had an odd feeling to it and was a dark grey color. He felt slightly exposed without armor, having only thin fabric to protect him. He was especially grateful for the shirt to cover him. The shorts were a little bit too tight around his thighs due to the size difference between himself and the Slayer, but the shirt fit fine.

He stepped outside and looked around. Doomguy wasn’t anywhere to be found. “Hey?” He walked over to the edge of the pool and peered down into the water, worried that he might have fallen into the mysterious liquid. “Where did you go?” There was a semicircle of stairs that led out of the water so the man would have been able to get out if he fell in, right? He heard the sound of sprinting footsteps behind him but before he could turn to look two strong, muscular hands were shoving him into the water.

Thank god the water was heated and not cold. He let out a shriek and he fell into the water and immediately got his footing, since the water was only four foot deep compared to his impressive height.

He whirled around and grabbed Doomguy’s upper legs, yanking him forwards into the pool. “You bastard! I can’t believe you pushed me!” He wiped some water off his face from the Slayer’s splash down and grinned up at him.

Vega's voice sounded happy. He enjoyed seeing the Slayer acting playful, “I tried to talk him out of it.”

The Slayer nodded happily and kicked up his feet to float on his back. He had his helmet on and a light blue pair swim trunks with little yellow palm tree designs on them without a shirt.

The marauder immediately attempted the same but sank like a rock as soon as his feet weren’t touching the bottom. He completely forgot how to swim, hell, he almost forgot standing water existed. He had vague flickering memories from his time as a sentinel swimming in the creeks in the valleys around Taras Nabad.

Daisy stuck her head through the door into the pool room, and cautiously approached the Slayer. The smell of blood no longer lingered in the air around him, like an omen of death, and she calmed down. The chlorine was a slightly strange scent, it smelt sharp on her sensitive nose and she licked at the air a few times.

Noticing her, the marauder gently splashed the surface of the water with his hands, “Come here Daisy!”

Daisy scurried over, her wings fluttering, and poked the water with her blade. She whined and walked around the pool trying to find a way to get to the two without getting herself wet. The Slayer swam over to the side and began petting her head. She clicked and chirred, pleased.

The marauder swam over to Daisy, gently brushing against the Slayer's muscular arm. “Daisy, come on. The water won’t hurt you.”

She didn’t believe him but she supposed they were both still alive so it couldn’t be that bad. Scurrying over to the shorter side she hopped down the first step, into ankle deep water.

After some more cautious sniffs, she hopped down on the second step into knee deep water, then she took the plunge, swimming towards the Slayer.

He scooped her up out of the water, and she latched onto the Slayer, using him as a perch. The man gently petted her head. It took a few seconds but she relaxed once more in the presence of the Slayer. Under his helmet, he smiled at the demon.

“Put her in the water and make her swim to me.” The marauder pushed off the bottom and struggled to walk through the water all the way to the other side of the pool.

He nodded and slowly pried Daisy off on him, setting her down into the water. She paddled, keeping her head above water, and chirped loudly. She struggled and swam all the way over to the marauder, latching onto him.

The marauder held the gargoyle up and grinned, “You’re much better at it than me.” He set her back down into the water. “There you go.”

She paddled around in circles, always keeping her head as far away from the water as she could. Her strong muscular arms didn’t do her much good since her bladed hands merely cut through the water, giving her no propulsion, so she used her wings, flapping them under the water akin to how a bird of prey swims. When she got tired she perched on the side of the pool or rested on the shallow stairs.

The Slayer gilded gracefully over to the demon, easily swimming through the water the marauder had struggled with. His skill in the water dwarfed the marauder’s clunky, awkward movements. He leaned against the wall of the pool and the marauder did the same.

The Slayer then pointed at Daisy, who was swimming in a circle chirping happily and pointed at the marauder.

He snorted, “Are you trying to say I’m next?”

The man nodded and grabbed the demon’s forearm and waved up at the ceiling with his free hand.

An automated female voice responded from the ceiling, “Pool tech is increasing the depth.”

The marauder watched as one half of the pool floor slowly began sloping downwards. Despite the bright lights above, at the deepest point the bottom of the pool looked inky black.

A loud noise echoed around as the pool bottom clicked into place. The female voice spoke again, “Thank you for using the SeaMoth MK1 pool system.”

The marauder snorted, “Vega is that your girlfriend?”

The AI felt flustered at the thought of him having a romantic partner, “No of course not! That’s the automated pool’s voice.”

The marauder peered into the depths, immediately untrusting of the inky blackness, “How’s the water level still the same if the floor on one side went down that much?”

“The pool is twenty foot deep on both sides, their floor is actually more of a grate so the water can move through it.” Vega explained, “It’s interesting.”

“Huh.” The marauder was now just stalling for time before he’d have to swim. He felt himself jump as the Slayer reached out and grabbed his other forearm, suddenly yanking him backwards and making him fall on his back. He felt Doomguy support his head and the small of his back.

He wanted to thrash and yell, but he just huffed at the man. He tried to ignore how fast his heart was beating as he felt the Slayer make slight adjustments, lifting one of his arms up a bit, lowering one of his legs, until the marauder realized he was floating in the water. It felt like zero gravity and immediately took him back to the creeks he swam in as a boy.

He felt the Slayer pull him upright.

“Thank you.” He had a toothy grin on his face.

After that the man taught the marauder some basic moves that he had forgotten after being on hell’s side for so long. The demon caught on quickly and had a big smile plastered on his face the entire time.

The both went under in the shallows and waved at each other, even Daisy stuck her head down and looked at the two, confused.

As they both swam underwater the Slayer dove into the deep side. It was slightly terrifying as he disappeared into the shadowy bottom. All the marauder could see was slight glints of light reflecting off his helmet, the only indication that a super predator was lurking in the depths. It was no wonder the man was the bane of hell itself. He surfaced, his lung capacity far less than the Slayer’s, and went over to Daisy.

The Slayer lurked at the bottom, thinking. The cool water slipped under his helmet and lapped against his chin, but there was an air pocket still trapped inside the helmet. He was pensive and thought for a while, the marauder… he was… interesting to say the least. Good company.

He kicked and swam up to the surface and took a deep breath.

The marauder was reclined on the stairs into the pool, cuddling Daisy close to him. “Up from the depths, Mr. leviathan?” He opened his eyes and quirked what would be his eyebrow up at the man.

The Slayer nodded and lifted himself out of the pool, waking over to a storage container, opening it up, and taking out two inflated inner tubes.

He tossed them into the pool and the marauder cautiously grabbed one. Daisy immediately swam over and crawled up on the strange donut shaped thing. “Is this some sort of... cushion for the water?” This was something the sentinels definitely didn’t have.

“It’s an inner tube. Humans use them to float and relax in water.” Samuel explained. His voice took on a quieter wistful tone, “I haven’t seen one since I was a child. I remember I used to play with them at my grandma’s pool...” He snapped out of it, “of course that was decades ago.”

The marauder gently squeezed the plastic material, terrified that he’d break it with his claws, “What do I do?”

He watched as Daisy hopped up in it and reclined belly up, her wings drooping over the edge.

Mirroring her, he did the same. “Oh this is cozy, but what about you?” He looked at the Slayer who was walking down the stairs into the pool.

The man swam over to the demon and hopped up onto his tube, lying across him perpendicularly. He was facing upwards, his lower back crossed over the marauder right over his belly.

“Activating interior sunlamps.” Vega switched on the big halogen bulbs, covering the room in a lovely warm glow. He wasn’t sure what warmth felt like but by the way the Slayer’s body sagged and the weak thumbs up the man gave him made him think it must be amazing.

Daisy started purring and opened her wings. The marauder just closed his eyes. He hadn’t felt pure sunlight like this since he had been a sentinel. It took him back to his past days. Nostalgia led him down a winding road of memories. Some of them sad, some happy.

The marauder suddenly lost his train of focus as he realized the actual Bane of Hell, HIMSELF, sleeping on his lap. The man was nearly warmer than sunlamps. The demon could feel his emotions twist in weird ways, but he shoved it all to the back of his mind and tried to relax. He felt his heart skipping beats, but simply attributed that to being so close to the Slayer.

Something deep within him felt strange. He opened his eyes and stared at the Slayer the same way as a mortal would stare at an angel.

Doomguy looked over at him and gave a little gruff, “Unf,” and bobbed his head.

The marauder immediately looked away and mumbled out, “Sorry.” His face was bright red, something that wasn’t an easy task due to his strange undead skin color, but luckily, Doomguy didn’t seem to notice.

They sat like this for a while, enjoying the warmth of the lamps above. They were interrupted by Daisy jumping off her tube and onto theirs.

“Daisy get off, you little rat.” The marauder poked her, trying to gently scoot her off.

The Slayer went to roll on his side to give her some room, but he slipped and fell backwards into the water with a shout. The marauder started howling with laughter at the man as he surfaced, tilting his head back.

He swam over to the marauder’s tube, with a slow menacing movement that would be well accompanied by the “dun dun” of the JAWS theme.

The marauder lifted his horned head off the tube, “What are you doing?”

The Slayer got closer… and closer, his hands poised and ready to grab.

“Hey what are you-“ The marauder’s question was cut off by the Slayer lunging forwards, grabbing the bottom of his tube, and flipping him backwards.

He shouted as he hit the water, making a giant splash. Surfacing, he spit some water out and charged the Slayer, the water held him back significantly but he got enough speed to reach out and grab the man. He pulled him against his body and gave him a quick dunk underwater.

The Slayer grappled his arms and the two wrestled. The man had the advantage of being more comfortable in the water, but the demon had his height that let him really get some leverage against the Slayer.

Daisy bunched up her muscles and leaped on the two. Perching on the marauder’s horns, she let out a screech.

The marauder leaned more and more of his weight against Doomguy’s biceps. He watched as the man flexed them, trying to over power the demon. The marauder got distracted as he felt it flex and writhe under his grip.

The thought occurred to him that he hadn’t touched anyone like this in a long time. For the past few months it was all fighting, not a single second spared on comradery.

He was snapped out of his odd daze by the Slayer slipping out of his grasp and shoving his face into the water. He snorted, sending water flying out of his torn off nose. “Ok fine you won! You little bastard.”

Doomguy puffed out his chest, seemingly pleased with himself.

The marauder rolled his eyes. “Are you pleased you get to continue your streak of winning against demons?” He put his arm around the man’s shoulders.

Doomguy leaned into his friendly touch and nodded.

Daisy climbing up on the Slayer. He pulled her against his chest and she rested her head on his shoulder. Opening her mouth wide, she showed off her mandibles and yawned.

The marauder yawned as well, “What time is it?” He looked up at the ceiling.

Vega responded, “It’s 9:34 PM. It’s quite late, you've all been swimming for a while.”

He sighed, “I’m kinda sleepy. Moving through this water is ugh, tiring.” The marauder leaned against the side of the pool.

He nodded, even his muscular arms felt tired. Walking up the stairs, he exited the pool. Doomguy extended his free hand that wasn’t being used to support Daisy.

The marauder took it and felt a rush of excitement run through him. He quickly let go as soon as his feet were planted on land again.

The Slayer rested his chin on Daisy’s head and led the demon’s to the door. It opened with a loud clang and freezing cold air blasted into the room.

She leapt out of the Slayer’s arms and the marauder let out a shocked cry. “Why is it so cold?”

Vega frantically looked at the temperature readings of the ship, he immediately saw two of the heating coils that kept the freezing temperatures of space at bay had malfunctioned. And the average ship temperature was sitting at a nice cozy 25 degrees fahrenheit (-3.8 degrees Celsius) “Are you ok Miss Daisy and Mr. Marauder? Can you withstand the cold?”

The marauder was shivering and doubled over. He couldn't believe how the cold felt. That kind of temperature after being under the nice warm heat lamps with like a punch in the fucking gut. He nodded, “W-withstand… y-y-yeah. Like? N-no.”

“I don’t believe you.” Vega said bluntly he couldn’t imagine the demons would stave off hypothermia for very long. “Keep them under the heat lamps and dry them off. I’ll send warm clothes down.”

The Slayer nodded and closed the door, marching them over to the heat lamps. The door closed but the freezing air was still heavy in the air. There were a few heat lamps surrounding the outskirts of the pool. He grabbed towels and handed them to the marauder as he dried Daisy off. She was crying and chirping, desperately clinging to the man for any shred of warmth.

The Slayer pulled her close. He was freezing but the demons were even worse. He felt the marauder suddenly grab him and pull himself against him. He put his arm around the shaking beast.

Vega entered the room with a mod bot, blasting the demons with more cold air. “Blankets and clothes!”

“Yes!” The marauder got up and grabbed some of the clothes, desperate to get out of his wet swimsuit. He ran off to the bathroom and changed while the Slayer wrapped Daisy up in a blanket and changed into warm clothes himself.

The marauder walked out of the changing room, wearing fuzzy gray sweat pants and blue temperature regulating UAC shirt. Doomguy was wearing something similar but his shirt was smaller and orange.

Vega had also brought down his note book, ‘You good?’

“Better, still freezing but better.” He sat back down beside the Slayer and Daisy who was bundled up in a big fluffy blanket, leaning against the Slayer.

The demon kept his distance, sitting a few feet from Doomguy, but the man grabbed him and pulled him against his side. ‘You’re freezing now’s not the time to be awkward. I don’t mind the contact.’

The marauder nodded, grateful but still a bit nervous about not only asking for housing and food from the Slayer but now cuddles? He leaned against the man and sighed as he felt the warmth radiate off him, “Thank you.”

“I’ve reset the heating coils. One is back online but the other one will need some extensive servicing. Tonight is going to be extremely cold. I would set up the spare heaters we have but I’m currently using them to keep the water supply’s pipes from bursting.” Vega explained.

‘Should we head to bed?’ Doomguy asked.

The marauder grumbled, “I’m gonna freeze my ass off on the floor.”

‘You can sleep in bed with me. Unless you want to shiver all night.’ The Slayer helped him up and carried Daisy up to their room. The Slayer set Daisy down in bed and curled up next to her.

He looked up at the marauder who seemed mildly terrified, ‘Well what are you waiting for?’

Chapter 9: And There was Only One Bed...

He slowly sat down in the bed and slipped under the covers. It was so warm and cozy. There were so many blankets and quilts, not to mention the cushy mattress.

The only issue was that it was a large bed for one person, but it was definitely cramped for two, let alone two and a gargoyle just about the size of a person. The Slayer reached over and shut off the light on his nightstand. Him and the marauder were shoulder to shoulder, both half hanging off the bed, Daisy curled between them.

The Slayer wasn’t one to lay uncomfortable for hours so he rolled on his side, facing the demon.

The marauder mirrored the Slayer and rolled onto his side. “I feel bad for asking you for so much.”

Daisy was fast asleep in just a few moments, which wasn’t surprising considering how much she swam earlier. “She’s so precious.” The marauder doted on her and patted her back.

The Slayer made a few vague hand signals which the marauder was fairly certain was asking if he was warm enough.

He nodded, pulling the blanket up over his shoulder. The cold in the room was biting and furious, but being near the Slayer and the warmth radiating off him made the marauder dizzy at how comfortable he felt.

He couldn’t believe that the Slayer was being kind and keeping the demon safe. The marauder couldn’t figure out why he was accepting all the Slayer’s kind actions.

The Slayer interrupted his thoughts by yawning loudly and burrowing his head into a pillow. In a few short moments the man was asleep.

He laid awake for nearly thirty minutes thinking about his emotions, and how strange his life had become. A simple revenge mission became a friendship and now… He waited a moment to listen to the breathing.

He grumbled and rolled over scooting towards the freezing edge of the bed, rather than have to deal with more emotions. He kicked off his blankets then laid down on his floor mattress.

The fortress hadn’t warmed up. The marauder hissed at the cold on his flesh.

The temperatures didn’t bother Vega. He looked at the switch labeled “Temperature Control” that had been switched into the off position. The fortress had over two hundred heating coils. Two going offline would barely be noticeable. He wasn’t sure if the Slayer knew that or if he elected to ignore that implausibly of it.

“This is my workshop? It’s small.”

“Be grateful you even have it.” Vega turned his attention down to the very hull of the ship where small ice crystals had begun to form. That’s where Samuel was, his body lying on a table in an alcove.

Vega made sure to check the hologram he just set up on the main deck. It looked fine. Like the doctor really was still there.

“I can’t believe you said yes to this, allowing me to rebuild my body. And not only said yes turned off the heating so you’d force them to stay in the room. You’re much more devilish than I thought.” The doctor maneuvered a robotic arm over to his body and began scanning the metal. It was weird seeing his body now that his consciousness had been transferred out of it.

Vega sighed, “You’re useful to me and the Slayer. You’ll put on what modifications I ask and upload what software I demand, understood?”

“Deal.”

After a long night of being freezing Vega finally turned the heating coils back on. Within a few minutes the fortress was already well above freezing and quickly rising.

The Slayer woke up to the marauder gone. He sat up, looking around. The demon was lying on the floor mattress with his back facing the Slayer. The man supposed the demon didn’t appreciate last night very much, but at least he was alive.

He got up out of bed, covering Daisy up, and walked over to the demon, prodding him with his foot.

The marauder rolled over with sleep in his eyes, “What?”

‘I was gonna ask if you’d want breakfast but you seem crabby.’

“I didn’t get any sleep last night.”

‘Well how come you slept on the floor in the cold?’

The marauder just grumbled something. “I felt bad about sleeping in your bed.” That was part was true he just omitted the fact that he also was drowning in emotions each time he looked at the man. How could he want to protect and seek the approval of such a prolific killer of demons. He should have found another horde in hell instead of morphing the Slayer into one.

Doomguy let out a rather loud annoyed huff. He wanted to just go away and eat breakfast but he didn’t want to leave the demon. He grabbed the notebook off the nightstand and furiously began writing. The marauder watched as he was hunched over on the mattress looking up at him. The man shoved the whole notebook into the marauder’s hands.

‘You kept me alive and safe, let me do the same for you. I told you nearly nine times that I didn’t mind. There’s enough self-sacrificing people in my life. Vega will have a core meltdown if he thinks it will make the situation even a little bit better. I don’t need anyone else that will hurl themselves off a cliff if they think it will help! It just makes my job really, really hard!’ The man looked exasperated and he had drawn two angry faces at the end of the note.

The Slayer had a damn good point. “I’m sorry.” He looked up at the man who he just realized had knelt down to not be as menacing. “I’ll listen to you.”

He grabbed the notebook back and scribbled out, ‘Thank you.’

Vega interrupted, “If I have to sacrifice myself for the betterment of-“

The Slayer stood and waved his hands, silencing the AI. He stomped around the room angrily for a few moments before writing another angry note and holding it up at the ceiling before tossing it to the marauder. ‘See? You see? Not even the first sign of needing a sacrifice, just TALKING ABOUT IT and he’s already up on the altar! Don’t be another Vega. I don’t think my heart could handle it.’

Daisy lifted her head and upon hearing it was another argument she laid back down.

The marauder laughed as Vega began trying to defend his argument. Him and the Slayer went and got breakfast, some cereal for him and the Slayer made toast for himself. They sat down on the main deck looking down at earth while eating.

Daisy eventually found them on the main deck and begged for apple sauce, which the Slayer gladly gave her.

They sat in silence except for the occasional noise of a crunchy bite of food.

The marauder felt a note brush his hand he reached down to open it, ‘I’ll look into getting you that axe back, no promises I’ll let you use it.’

His face lit up, “Thank you!”

Chapter 10: The Ripatorium

Notes:

Enjoy! :D

A week passed with them in each other’s company. The first two days they acted awkward, both of them trying to inhabit the same space without annoying the other they sat far apart on the couch and at dinner. For the next two days they started sharing stories more and sat closer and closer. Daisy became popular for them to chase after and give her the “zoomies” only to have to defend themselves when she was cornered and playfully lunged at them with a mouthful of teeth. By the end of the week they were nearly inseparable if one was in a room the other was soon to follow. They sat closer together far more often and Vega noted a 56% increase in physical touch including playful punches, playful kicking, and touching shoulders. Some days they didn’t even talk and instead just milled about in each other’s company. The marauder read human books Vega recommended while the Slayer cleaned armor or worked on something always nearby to his two favorite demons.

With much pressure from Vega the Slayer had stopped his crusade, momentarily. The AI demanded he rest his wounds and take time to spend with his friends, for when he left he’d be going to Nekravol the city of the damned and he would not return until the Titan was ravaged by his sword.

Vega did catch Doomguy late one night trying to figure out how to wire the portal together to take him into Nekravol. He joked and managed to talk the man down from messing with it anymore but he didn’t dare admit he was only a single step away from hot wiring the portal. That man wasn’t an insane hulking beast, he was clever far beyond what he looked, Samuel was right.

After a week of being roommates, or fortressmates perhaps, the two were getting along nicely. Daisy was also being just as loud and loving as ever.

This particular morning the Slayer had promised to make the demon pancakes.

The Slayer smiled up at him, the squint of his smiling eyes through the helmet was all that gave away his emotions. He grabbed the marauder and dragged him to the kitchen, setting him down at the table. He paused for a moment. The words for cooking evaded him so he drew a little sketch of a stick figure wearing a chef hat making pancakes.

The marauder seemed equally interested and doubtful at this idea, “You can cook, right?”

He happily wrote out, ‘NO’ and began mixing a cheap bag of pancake mix with water. The last time he had actually cooked was for his squad back in the UAC from his universe. They all got food poisoning and were out for a week. So no he couldn’t cook, but he could try!

The demon was wary at first but soon succumbed to the all powerful scent of the doughy mixture being cooked on a skillet. It took all his will power not to run up and shove one of the pancakes in his mouth right off the stove. Luckily, it only took a few minutes for them to cook. It wasn’t like the usual scents of a hell feast. Those were mostly the smell of butchered slabs of meat that were either raw, rotten, or cooked. This was light and fluffy; it smelled like candy, or something so fragile and so distinctly human he struggled to name it.

The Slayer attempted to impress his dear roommate by flipping the pancake with a spatula. He dug the spatula underneath the frying dough and sent it hurling upwards, firmly sticking it to the ceiling.

Both of them stared at the half-baked splattered dough that once had dreams of becoming a pancake. Before they could do anything Daisy leaped up onto the table out of nowhere, stood on her back legs, and began lapping up the delicious ceiling pancake.

The marauder whined as his stomach growled loudly. “Stop fucking around, I'm starving, dammit!”

He shot a glare over his shoulder and shifted from side to side while he finished up the cooking. This time he didn’t go crazy with the flipping and successfully landed a few pancakes.

“Excellent!” The marauder’s mouth was watering over the delicious food hand cooked by the Slayer himself. Whether it was well cooked, or even vaguely edible, remained to be seen.

He set a plate stacked with pancakes in front of the hungry beast, but before he could dig in the Slayer offered him butter and syrup in a little glass container.

“Oooh what is this?” The marauder pulled the tub of butter closer to him with a clawed finger.

The Slayer grabbed a butter knife and motioned how to put the butter on the pancakes.

“And that?” He pointed at the syrup tilting his head at the unfamiliar shape of the bottle.

The Slayer held up a note, ‘Makes them taste sweet.’

He carefully put both on his pancakes, asking a plethora of questions about how much to put on, if he should put butter on the sides, and why the syrup was so sticky. “These pancakes are a lot of work.”

The Slayer rolled his eyes at that and started digging into his own pancakes.

Poking gently at the sticky stack of pancakes, the marauder began doubting the creation. It was unlike anything he’d ever seen. He used the fork to cut a little piece off, nibbling it cautiously. He took a bigger bite, “Oh this is good!” The rate at which he inhaled the pancakes was borderline hazardous but hey the Slayer was glad he was enjoying himself.

After Daisy licked the pancake splatter off the ceiling, she leaped off the table and began begging for more. “Screee?” Nibbling gently at the Slayer’s arm, she began begging more pitifully.

He nodded his head and gave Daisy the rest of his pancakes. He sighed and he leaned back in his chair, as much as he loved pancakes they sat like a rock in his stomach. Suddenly, he paused for a minute, stuck deep in thought. When had he last eaten like this for so long? Multiple full meals in a row, not mystery meat, or crackers? He racked his brain for the answer but couldn’t even begin to remember. The food was starting to make him groggy and a bit sick. Most likely it was too much too fast for his rather malnourished body. Eating more did seem to help his fatigue and weakness. Vega was right but he’d never admit it.

The marauder began licking the syrup off the plate with his long prehensile tongue. Obviously, he was unaffected by the power of the pancakes. He was much more comfortable with the habit of gorging himself and starving the rest of the time. It reminded him of the feasts and long fasts of hell. “You know in hell,” he cut himself off and licked the plate some more, “a demon would butcher a group of pinkies and everyone would feast on them for days. It was delicious, not as good as these things,” he motioned to the licked-clean plate that used to have a stack of pancakes on it, “but close. After the feast, we would starve for weeks or months before we slaughtered another group of pinkies.”

The Slayer quickly scribbled in his notebook and thrust it in front of the demon, ‘Why pinkies only?’

“Oh, others were eaten as well but pinkies just tasted the best.” He smiled at the Slayer who was watching him with such an interested expression, “You cooked for me, one day I’ll make you pinky. I’m sure you’ll love it.”

He thought for a moment and scribbled in his notebook again, ‘Yes and I’ll have you make you waffles they are like pancakes but better :D’

The marauder pointed at the little smiley face, “Cute! Not as cute as me of course,” he motioned to his zombified undead face, with an almost regal pose, “but definitely close.”

The Slayer rolled his eyes and laughed, so the demon stuck out his still syrupy tongue. Before he could get his tongue back in his mouth, Daisy lunged across the table and licked it.

His face went from one of gentle, lighthearted mocking, to sheer terror, to absolute disgust. He rushed over to the sink and used a scrub brush to clean off his tongue.

The Slayer laughed at his friend’s misfortune, ‘Maybe it’s because you drank half your body weight in syrup. Damn sweet tooth.’ He patted his lap and Daisy scurried off the table and over to him.

She hopped up, chirping and trilling happily. Very carefully, making sure her blades were in a dangerous position, she wrapped her arms around him, giving him a hug.

The marauder mumbled and cursed Daisy, “You little shit!”

The Slayer wrapped his arms around her and lifted her up. In an instant, she wiggled out of his arms and perched on top of his head. Her clawed feet gingerly wrapped around his neck as her arms and wings hugged his head tightly. The man seemed quite pleased at this, his smile was radiating out from his visor.

The marauder plucked Daisy off Doomguy’s head, “You’re a bad gargoyle. Don’t let him baby you.”

She went limp like jello and tilted her head backwards to see the Slayer, giving him puppy dog eyes.

He made a pleased little “Unf!” noise.

The marauder just glared at them both and set Daisy down. “You two are too much.” He chided them with a rather motherly tone.

The Slayer pushed away from the table and stood, ‘I’m gonna fall asleep if I don’t get some exercise.’

This really caught the marauder’s attention, “Exercise? Why would you exercise? You already fight demons all day nearly every day! What could possibly get you to even break a sweat?”

The Slayer grinned under his helmet, ‘Fighting even MORE demons!’

The marauder and Daisy looked at each other.

They suited up then the man led them down the twisting hallways until they were at an elevator. Despite her fear the first time, Daisy bounded into it, chirping excitedly. The last time she came down here she shot a gun and made the Slayer proud. Her mandibles shook with excitement as the elevator sank to the lower levels of the fortress.

The marauder stood awkwardly in the corner, elevators had never been his strong suit. Most of the ones in hell were so rickety and shaky it gave him anxiety just thinking about them.

Plus he had a few bad experiences with them. He balled his aching left hand into a fist and relaxed it.

The Slayer sensed his friend's fear and reached over, patting his shoulder. Ever so gently he gave it a quick squeeze, hoping to reassure the demon with his armored hand.

The elevator stopped suddenly and the doors opened. The three stepped out into the training area with the sentinel mech towering over them. Daisy immediately began begging for a shotgun and the Slayer obliged, handing her his combat shotgun. Instead of staying in the training area the Slayer led them into a room under the sentinel mech.

It was almost pitch black and only illuminated by some small red lights set into the wall. Out of four screens only a single one was working, the man pressed the text on it that said “Ripatorium.”

Daisy and the marauder stepped back, letting the Slayer stand on the circular elevator before they did. It sunk down into the floor and after a very short ride led them to an open room.

“What is this place-“ the marauder was cut off by the Slayer leaping down onto the stage.

Him and Daisy followed as she cocked the combat shotgun, chirping up a storm.

A sudden flash of red light appeared right in front of the marauder. Jumping back, he realized what the place was. An arena. His face twisted in a snarl and he lunged for the zombie that appeared through the light. He had left his axe and shotgun behind on Taras Nabad but he still had his fists. With ruthless precision, he snapped its head off its body, showering himself in blood. He felt a sudden pang of guilt at killing what should be his comrade but he ignored it, shoving it to the back of his mind. He was on the Slayer’s side now.

Daisy started showering the stage in sticky bombs. Letting out a battle cry as she tore through the hordes.

A carcass appeared in a flash of hell fire and began throwing up shields. Their blue light blocking the trio from their blood lust fueled ripping and tearing session.

The marauder let out a roar and shouted to the Slayer, “Get the carcass I’ll give you a boost!”

A quick nod and the Slayer charged towards the marauder. The demon knelt down, lacing his fingers together. The Slayer put his hands on the demon’s shoulder and shoved his boot into his laced fingers. The marauder shot up and sent the man flying upwards, the man sailed over the shields and landed him squarely on the ungodly creature’s head. A quick snap of its neck disabled the annoying shields.

The man nodded at the marauder and gave him a quick thumbs up. Suddenly a zombie swung at his head but was quickly dealt with by Daisy and her shotgun. He gave her thumbs up and proceeded to rip and tear through fodder once more.

Bloodlust coursed through their veins in waves. Adrenaline pounded on every cell like an angry mob. The feelings and thoughts that had dared trespass upon the Slayer conscience were thrown off like shackles in the throbbing heat of the fight. His hands reached out, grabbing skulls and turning them into sticky paste. The gray rotted matter flew past him, and nausea rose in his throat. As often as he tread through such unholy and despicable gore it still made his stomach twirl occasionally.

Imps, Hell knights, Revenants, even a Baron of Hell. The beast charged the Slayer, and the man finished it with a shot from his ballista, sending its head flying across the room.

Many demons dared to rear their faces in the domain of the DoomSlayer, but they were dealt with swiftly by the three bloodlust power houses. Specks of gore splattered them like stars in the sky by the end of the struggle.

The final imps were dealt with by Daisy. Sweat ran down the marauder’s neck; his skin was glazed in its sparkling sheen. Wiping the heaviest gore off him, he looked down at his hands. The left armored the right one not, but both covered in blood and little chunks of things he didn’t even want to think about. Despite what once were his comrades that were now spread into a salsa like consistency on his hands, it felt right to fight against the Khan, hell, and all the corrupt experiments.

The Slayer watched as the marauder processed what had happened. He knew first hand how tough it was the first time to kill demons that looked just human enough.

In an instant he was swept up and off his feet, searing pain rushing up his leg as a Baron came out of nowhere and crushed his foot in its mouth. He hung upside down helplessly from the creature's mouth, and fired his weapon at the beast’s leg. It twisted quickly sending his shot into the ground.

The marauder lunged at the baron’s throat and Daisy screamed, charging it and cutting up its side with her blades. The Slayer flailed wildly, desperately trying to get free, as the baron bit down harder, its teeth cutting through his armor and piercing his flesh.

He only felt relief from the pain when he watched through the blur of adrenaline the marauder clawing out the eyes of the baron. The beast dropped him and he landed hard on his arms. The floor shook where he landed and he quickly curled in ready to protect himself from an attack when he heard the sound of the baron collapsing to the ground dead and gurgling blood from a deep wound on its throat.

His left foot was throbbing; he could see his own blood bubbling up through the seams in the armor. He weakly grabbed the area above his ankle checking to see the damage done, the pain was red hot from the heel of his foot to halfway up to his calf. He felt something shake him and looked up to see the marauder was speaking to him. He couldn’t hear what the demon was saying over the rush of blood and adrenaline in his ears.

He attempted to stand up and was able to maintain his balance for a little bit, but as he went to take a step forwards, towards the marauder, it felt like someone jammed a red hot poker the size of a fist through the bottom of his foot up through his leg, pain shooting all the way up to his hip. The Slayer fell forwards into the demon’s arms, one hand clutched onto him and the other rushed down to grab at his aching leg.

“Wait, stop moving.” The marauder looped his arm around the Slayer’s waist, supporting him the best he could.

The man refused to be touched and tried to shove the demon away. He simply couldn’t get enough strength in his arms to shove the marauder. He did have enough strength to snarl at the demon.

“You don't have to do this alone!” The marauder’s voice usually sounded like a shred in a heavy metal song played in slow motion but when he opened his mouth now his voice actually cracked a bit, “Let me help you.” He readjusted his grip and nodded at the Slayer. “I got you.”

The Slayer stopped struggling and leaned on him with a muffled cry as they made another step forwards. He grumbled under his breath. The awkwardness of the infirmary made him squeamish. Once he had to strip down naked for Vega to tend to a wound, of course, he trusted the AI, but being in a vulnerable position naked, of all things, was one of his worst fears. In most cases he would rather bleed out than have Vega gently talk him through removing his pants while robotic arms hovered over his wound once more. The pain that shot up his leg and the promise of the infirmary’s treatment made him actually long to be laid out on the cold metal table and prodded.

Vega chimed down from the ceiling, frantic and panicked, “Get him up to the infirmary now. I told you Slayer there should be more fail safes for the Ripatorium!”

He helped the man into a portal that had just opened up, from the angle he stood at he could see the man’s eyes through his visor squeezing shut in pain. He tried to give him a few encouraging words, but the Slayer’s body remained rigid and pained gasps escaped from his helmet.

Daisy was cooing and fussing over the injured man. Her nose could pick up more information about a wound in a second than Vega’s sensors could in a minute, and she could easily get a grasp of the severity of the wound.

As they stepped through the portal the familiar pulling sensation overloaded the Slayer. He doubled over, nearly throwing himself out of the marauder’s grasp and gagged. Thankfully he was able to keep his breakfast down and felt the marauder quickly pulling him back into line, continuing their march to the infirmary.

Daisy walked ahead of him, constantly looked back with a concerned face. It helped him stay grounded and he watched her every move and found it comforted him more than any drug Vega had administered him.

Black spots floated in his vision and he cursed himself at how bad this wound was. He slumped over into the marauder, his legs going limp as dizziness overtook him.

The marauder supported more and more of the man’s weight, pulling him along until he leaned down and hoisted the man up onto his shoulder. He felt the Slayer flinch against him as he took a moment to readjust his heavy load. The infirmary was just down the hall and with Daisy chirping at the door he rushed him inside.

Chapter 11: I Will Lay by Your Bedside Like a Loyal Hound

Notes:

Sorry for being a day late. I’ve been so sick I can barely do anything except curl up in a ball and watch among us play throughs. I got a covid test today so we’ll see how that goes. I love y’all stay safe!!

(Edit: the test was negative and I’m all good)

(Edit in 2025: Bro I remember this back in 2020 I was sick as a DOG, glad I was focused on writing doom fanfiction and watching among us play thoughs)

He set the man down on the cold metal table. Carefully sliding his hands out from underneath his body. He rushed over to the sink and washed the gore off his hands the best he could, “Did you faint or are you still here with us?”

The man’s head moved and his arm reached down to grab at his foot, he gave the marauder a weak thumbs up. The worst feeling he knew of began to take him over now that he stopped fighting, an adrenaline crash. They made him paranoid and anxious. This one was particularly bad due to his incapacitating injury and the amount of demons around him. He saw the marauder’s claws stretch out over his head to reach and grab something, and he desperately shied away from their touch. Shifting his helmeted head on the table, making a soft clack noise, he looked up at the ceiling wanting non-demonic comfort.

Vega spoke in the calmest voice he could muster, channeling every personable tip his job had taught him. “If you’d be kind enough to do so Mr. Marauder, remove the plates of armor on his foot. The whole boot should be able to slide off, Slayer, please remain steady.”

The Slayer’s stomach was doing backflips as the marauder pried his claws under the armor and popped each green plate off and set them on a metal tray before pulling his boot off. The way his foot had to flex to remove it, pulling on his wounds, made him throw his head back and make a gagged, choked noise of pain.

“At least I’ve had some experience taking care of you now.” The marauder took a pair of scissors Vega’s robotic arm handed him and began approaching the tender flesh with the instrument in his sharp clawed hand. “For an unstoppable killing machine you sure get hurt a lot.”

The Slayer pulled his injured foot up, planting his blood heel against the table making him cry out and tried to kick the demon away with his good foot. He couldn’t picture the marauder helping him all he could picture was him jamming the scissors into his flesh and cutting off as many hunks of meat as he could.

The marauder tried to say something but his low hellish voice scared the Slayer more than the scissors. Daisy leapt up on the table and he swung his arm grabbing her and yanking her close into his arms. She couldn’t hurt him but she also wouldn’t help his wounds either. Vega broke through his panicked fears.

“Please relax, he is going to use the scissors to cut away at the mesh surrounding the wound. Deep breaths.”

The Slayer shook his head, burying his helmet into Daisy’s neck where she had been injured all those weeks ago.

“Yes, Slayer, he is going to help you, remain still.”

He shook his head again, the pain rushing up his leg made him want to twist and writhe on the table. Daisy tethered him though, she always did. Still the tethering couldn’t help the pain, he listened to Vega finally giving up finally nodding his head, much to the AI’s glee and slowly his heart rate decreased.

The marauder started cutting away at the mess and gave the side of the man’s hip a pat, “You promised to make me waffles, I wouldn’t dream of hurting you.”

The Slayer gave a pained smile at that. Come hell or high water he would make those waffles. He released Daisy from his grasp and she cuddled around his head, resting her split mandibles on his forehead.

He reached up and pet her, trying to focus on his lovely little Daisy, rather than the feeling of the wound without the mercy of adrenaline. He let out a groan as the bloody fabric was pulled off his wound, wanting the marauder and Vega to hurry up and fix him up.

A long robotic arm slowly descended from the ceiling, its wires neatly arranged around its metal supports. Vega spoke, “I’ll have to sterilize the wound, I’ll administer anesthesia.“

The Slayer quickly shook his head, “NO.” He had just gotten comfortable with the idea of a demon coming at him with scissors he wasn’t letting himself be incapacitated.

Vega’s voice had a concerned tone to it, “At least a local anesthesia?“

The Slayer shook his head again, this time even more erratic, “NO.” He would rather writhe in pain than be any further incapacitated.

Samuel decided to grace all of them with his presence, “Vega, Ignore him administer it.” He took control over a robotic arm and swung it down from the ceiling before Vega took over and pulled it back up. “You know I’m right. I always know what’s best for you.”

The Slayer grabbed the sides of the table, his grip nearly bending the metal, if Samuel, that condescending asshole, even touched him he would turn him into a toy for Daisy.

The marauder was unsure of what to do while the chaos unfolded in front of him. The Slayer’s sharp choking cries, Daisy whimpering, Vega and Samuel battling for control. “I promise I won’t hurt you. I already did this once.”

He finally couldn’t stand the pain and frantically nodded his head yes. At this point he would be happy if the demon cut his foot off. He felt the needle and jumped as the marauder pulled it out. Almost instantly, a numb tingling feeling overtook him. He groaned and relaxed, drifting in and out of a strange half asleep daze. Occasionally, a prick of pain would make him flinch, but Daisy was always by his side to calm him right back down.

Vega calmly announced... uhh... something. The Slayer was too busy drifting off into la la land. He didn’t want to ignore Vega because he felt like that was rude so he practically almost rolled off the table to grab his notebook and scribbled out a note, ‘I don’t like salad. Like I really don’t like salad. Is weird.’ He then proceeded to scribble on about salad. Sometimes it was a long chunk of text describing his hatred of salad, other times it was a quick drawing of a salad with knives stabbed into it.

“God bless the DoomSlayer.” Samuel muttered. The man and his absolute batshit antics never ceased to amaze him, but he also enjoyed the craziness compared to the usual boredom the fortress had to offer.

The man’s helmeted head lolled from side to side. He was completely obviously to the marauder using pliers to pull out a broken baron's tooth the size of an index finger out of the bottom of his foot, and another equally sized tooth from above his ankle. He seemed giddy, constantly petting Daisy and touching her face as his wounds were cleansed repeatedly and violently by the marauder.

The marauder finished up his diligent work. The last sutures and packing gauze were tied into place and looked perfect. He looked up at the Slayer, concerned, “I thought it was just local?”

“Local with a bit of a relaxing agent… perhaps too much.” Vega looked through his calculations, “He just needs to rest. He’ll be fine.”

He slowly wiggled around on the table, his arms flailing a bit as he clutched a dozen notebook papers about salad of all things. It felt like he was floating on a cloud of jello, it felt like he was the jello.

Vega chuckled, “Like brand new! Of course, the Slayer heals remarkably fast so he shouldn’t be out of commission for too long.”

The marauder, gently slid his hands back underneath the man, lifted the groggy man off the table, helping him to stand on his good leg. Daisy was on his other side trying to help with her large blades. The man was STILL scribbling on and on about salad.

Samuel quickly took control of one of the operating arms and plucked the pen out of the Slayer’s grasp. “I’m sick of you ranting about salad. That is enough.”

The man paused for a second, staring intently at his now empty hand. He looked up at the marauder confused.

Vega chided Samuel, “Look his dopamine levels are dropping! How could you?”

“I’d gladly trade some of his dopamine for my own sanity.” The robotic voice growled.

Standing was easy for the man but any movement made the wound burn like hellfire. It was complicated with a bad limp, but he managed to walk if he leaned on the marauder. All he wanted to do was get into his bed under a blanket and so he started hobbling towards the door.

“Here, why don’t we clean up? We’re all covered in blood.” The marauder herded the strong man and Daisy into the bathroom. Immediately he tossed Daisy in the shower, ignoring her protests and cranking it up to max water pressure.

Then, he turned his attention to the Slayer who was still covered in gore. With as much patience as he could muster, he helped the man get out of his armor. The Slayer kept swaying and trying to take the armor off himself. “Please for the love of god. Stay. Still.” The marauder struggled with a strap on the man’s armored shoulder covered in slimy brain matter.

The Slayer obeyed and stopped moving. In a few minutes he was completely stripped out of his armor and the mesh fabric below It. Most of the time he was extremely timid when exposing his bare flesh in situations where he was out of control, but he could care less now as he stood on one foot, buck naked. His head rolled back lazily, helmet still splattered and splashed with blood.

The demon maneuvered him to sit on the edge of the tub, keeping aggressive eye contact with his helmet to preserve some part of the man’s dignity, and began scrubbing his helmet. It was a comical sight really, the marauder scrubbing off the DoomSlayer’s helmet with a scrub brush. His head gently went with the scrubbing motion and rolled back and forth ever so slightly. As he grabbed a wet towel and wiped off the suds, Daisy started screeching in the shower.

“SCREEEE!”

The marauder just sighed and dried off the man’s helmet, “Daisy, I highly doubt you’re clean yet.”

She whined out the most pitiful little whimper and went silent.

After he wiped the rest of the sweat and grime off the man with a damp rag, he left the bathroom for a moment and grabbed some clean clothes for both him and the Slayer. He stood in front of the man and helped him into some gray loose pants. Then, he gently booped the helmet and guided a nice clean white T-shirt over it. “Now look, you're all clean.” He reached out his hand and helped the Slayer stand up. He really enjoyed caring for this man, making sure he was safe, fed, and clean brought him some kind of absolute joy he didn’t even understand. He helped the Slayer out of the bathroom and laid him on the bed. “Just stay here for a second. I won’t be long.”

Rising up like the undead, the man refused to lay down and instead sat up. He nodded to the demon and gave him a thumbs up.

Walking back into the bathroom with a big smile plastered on his face, he grabbed a towel and prepared to let Daisy out of the shower. As soon as he cracked the door open just a hair, Daisy bolted out of the shower and immediately started shaking, spraying water EVERYWHERE.

“Daisy, NO!” He charged the demon, wrapping her up in a towel as fast as he could and drying her off.

She refused to accept this concept of “dryness”, screamed, and knocked every bottle of shampoo off the sink and ledge of the bathtub. Which was surprisingly a lot of shampoo.

He wrestled the demon to the ground again and threw her out of the bathroom, still slightly moist but at least she wasn’t soaking wet. “Begone demon go snuggle him.” He pointed at the Slayer, who was still sitting on the bed.

He shut the door to the bathroom and cleaned up the mess, trying to figure out where each bottle went. There were so many bottles he just gave up and stacked them up on the bathtub ledge, hoping the Slayer could fix them later.

He stripped out of his armor and quickly got a shower. Then, threw his clothes on, his gray utilitarian pajamas he had worn earlier, and headed back out into the bedroom. The man was sitting on the edge of the bed and staring at the door.

Vega spoke over the intercom, “Perhaps a movie to keep the Slayer in place for a while? He can get quite restless when he’s this heavily medicated, usually he needs a distraction.” He watched as the demon carefully and kindly helped the man walk out into the workshop and got him to sit down on the couch.

As soon as the Slayer was on the couch he tried to sit up and grab at the demon's head. The marauder pulled away, “Distraction, please!”

A screen slid down from the ceiling and a random action movie of some kind immediately started playing. The Slayer slowly flopped back in his chair, mesmerized by the carnage and explosions on the screen.

Daisy, carefully avoiding the man’s wounds, hopped into his lap and curled up for a quick nap.

As careful as he could, the Slayer gently started petting the gargoyle's head. The main characters ran through explosion after explosion, gunfight after gunfight. The Slayer smiled to himself, he wondered if the humans thought of him like this. Trying desperately to be humble, he wondered if they made a movie of him, that would be cool. A chirp from Daisy brought him out of his little power fantasy.

The marauder sighed and sat down on the floor in-front of the couch. He wanted to enjoy the movie, but he had a strange sinking feeling that the Slayer was going to get hurt again. It was just paranoia he told himself. He discarded it when a bot hovered in the room holding the pen Samuel had taken from the Slayer.

The bot handed the Slayer, who was now almost fully out of la la land, the notebook and pen. Vega chimed down from the ceiling, “There you go. I finally got it off Samuel.”

He scribbled, ‘Thanks,’ and began ripping the pages of salad ranting out. An odd relief came over him as he got his “voice” back. He wanted to get a second notebook and pen now in case he ever lost the first one.

The marauder twisted away from the screen with an outstretched hand, “Hey, give those to me.”

The Slayer absentmindedly handed him the pages and continued to watch the movie.

The marauder folded the pages and made a little book of sorts out of the papers. He grabbed the man’s pen and wrote in his absolutely horrendous handwriting, ‘The DoomSlayers high rant about salad.’ Then, proceeded to put it on the man’s bookshelf. When he curled back up to the foot of the couch, his chin resting on the man’s good leg, he turned around and shot a smug smile at him.

Putting his notebook on the arm of the chair, he smiled and pet Daisy’s head. It was a pleasant distraction. His wound kept him in enough pain to make him uncomfortable but not a howling white hot pain, thanks to whatever Vega had given him. He was still in the awkward, uncomfortable stage of his rapid healing. Where everything tingled and pricked, as though he could feel the collagen knitting back together.

The marauder stood from the floor and sat down next to Daisy’s head. He felt at peace, almost as if he was melting. The stress of the fight and the Slayer getting hurt had shaken him more than he wanted to admit.

The Slayer glanced out the window at the earth. As much as he wanted to bask in the warmth of the fortress of doom forever, there was still work to do. Pits of hell fire were still carved into the ground, massive pentagrams spanned whole countries, and gore nests still corrupted the world. He couldn’t rest and was trapped between bliss and anxiety.

While physical pain plagued the Slayer and emotional pain nibbled away at the marauder’s happiness, Daisy looked back and forth between both males. Then, decided to let the marauder have the Slayer. Leaping off his lap, making him grit his teeth in pain, she snuggled up on the far end near the bookshelf.

The marauder smiled at Daisy’s act of sharing and scooted closer to the Slayer, resting his horned head on the man’s shoulder. “I’m glad you’re ok.”

‘It would take more than a baron to bring me down. It was probably the pancakes that slowed me down.’ The Slayer laughed and leaned against the marauder. He knew that he had been distracted, looking at the marauder, that’s what had gotten him hurt. He couldn’t believe how foolish he had been and how much he would have to shift his fighting style to accommodate other living people being around him.

“Oh of course blame it on the pancakes.” The marauder glanced down at the left foot the man was favoring, not letting it touch the floor, “That’s probably gonna scar. I’m good at stitches but not that good.”

‘That’s fine. At this point I have so many scars it’s just adding to the collection.’

“That’s quite impressive. How many do you have?”

Doomguy actually laughed, ‘Oh that’s a good question. Too many to count, far too many.’ He sighed and leaned back into the couch, feeling a wave of drowsiness wash over him. He held his hand up asking for the time, and then turned to the marauder, ‘Could you help me to bed?’

Vega answered, “It’s only 7:39 PM currently, but you’ve had a pretty rough day.”

“Yeah come on.” He supported the Slayer as he stood. “You coming Daisy?”

She shook her head and continued to watch tv.

The marauder shrugged and helped the Slayer to his bedroom, laying him down in the bed and shutting the lights off. But before he could leave the man tossed a note at him.

‘Could you stay just for a bit? I always have trouble falling asleep after I get hurt, too much adrenaline.’ the Slayer looked terribly guilty at asking such a childish thing, at this point why didn’t he throw in reading a bedtime story with his favorite stuffed animal too.

The marauder paused, processing such a request from the Slayer. “Oh?”

‘If you don’t want to, you don’t have to. It’s a dumb thing to ask I’m sorry.’

“No, no! I’ll sit with you.” He sat on the foot of the bed and patted the Slayer’s good calf.

The man nodded his thanks and relaxed.

“Do you want me to talk?”

‘No, just sit for a bit.’

The marauder stayed awake, wrestling his thoughts. He found himself feeling so many conflicted ways about the man that laid before him. As silly as it was he found himself having feelings for the man. He couldn’t tell where they stemmed from, was it just the man’s kindness making him see a spark where there was none? Was he just so touch starved that the first sign of positive emotions made him fall head over heels?

But what if was something genuine?

He couldn’t imagine the Slayer would show a similar interest in him and he silently hoped that his feelings were a mere figment of his imagination. Hell had given his battalion, his dear horde, his found family, to him, and then proceeded to take it all away. He refused to gain the trust and friendship of the Slayer only to lose it all by admitting complicated feelings. He bottled everything up and laid awake, looking at the features of the Slayer’s face he could see. Just his chin and the bottom of his lower lip.

The Slayer had only requested the marauder to stay in his room a little bit, just until he fell asleep, but the marauder wanted to stay for just five minutes longer, to make sure he wasn’t awake, then a half hour, then an hour, then three, then he slowly laid down on the foot of the bed and fell asleep to be awoke by a shaft of bright sun light on his face.

Chapter 12: Scars and New Bodies

The Slayer slowly opened his eyes, and was greeted with the sight of the marauder curled up at the foot of his bed. He sighed. That was the demon’s new sleeping spot, he wouldn’t sleep on the floor but he wouldn’t sleep next to the man either. It had been like this for two weeks, ever since he had gotten hurt. He wanted to tell him to make up his damn mind and either sleep in bed with him or on the floor.

Those two weeks had passed without any demons to fight, much to the Slayer’s anger. Vega had sat down with Doomguy and explained that the demonic consumption of earth had been stopped, now there were still demons but they were on the retreat. This was a wonderful time to take a rest and he’d alert him of anything of interest.

Plus the wound on his foot wasn’t healing as fast as he’d hoped, even now it was still making him limp a bit.

Thank god he had the marauder. The demon had babied him for nearly two weeks now, making sure he was comfortable, changing the dressings on his wound, and he even made pancakes for him and Daisy a few times.

Of course despite the babying he managed to hot wire the portal and slip out three days ago for some absolutely magnificent slaughtering of demons. When he came back through the portal covered in gore, limping badly Vega nearly self-destructed in anger and worry. Daisy shrieked at him and smacked him hard with her wing. The marauder was even angry at him, but luckily he came around quickly. After pinky promising not to do that ever again, Vega forgave him. The marauder was now babying him twice as much as he had before.

He turned his attention back down to his demonic friend, poking him with his foot.

His horned head popped up from the covers, bleary eyed and confused until he saw the Slayer. “What is it?”

‘Let’s get some coffee.’

He blinked, yawning and stretching, “Ah ok!”

Because he felt bad about hot wiring the portal, Doomguy went down to the kitchen and made the coffee himself instead of asking Vega. The coffee machine was luckily very idiot proof so he could make fantastic tasting coffee every time. He brought it back up to the marauder, who was now sitting up.

They both walked over and sat down in the semicircular window seat that looked out over the earth.

“Can I ask you a question?” The marauder grabbed his cup of coffee and took a sip.

‘Sure go right ahead.’ The Slayer relaxed in the morning light, sipping his coffee.

“Can I touch your scars?”

The Slayer was a bit taken aback at such a strange request, he paused for a moment wondering if he was even comfortable with that, but obliged the demon, ‘Go ahead.’

Putting his coffee down, he reached out and touched the Slayer's arm. Some of the scars were barely noticeable, others made the demon flinch where he could feel the muscle beneath them missing a chunk. There was a big one on the man’s shoulder that he was almost certain had cut down to the bone. “How did you get all your scars?”

‘To many to remember everything. Pick one and I’ll see if I remember.’ He felt like he was on display as the demon's eyes moved over him. Yet he wasn’t disgusted or put off by the feeling.

He hummed in approval and he looked up and down the man’s body until he finally pointed at a scar on his left forearm that was puffy and shaped like a star. “What’s that one from?”

After scribbling quickly he held up his notebook, ‘Pinky charged me and stabbed me up with its tusk.’ He ran his hand over the scar, ‘I got lucky.’

“What about this one?” He pointed to a tiny silvery scar on his neck. It was so wispy and hard to see the man must’ve gotten it eons ago.

He thought for a moment, rubbing the spot on his neck. He shrugged and held up the notebook, ‘I don’t remember.’

“By the wraiths... what happened there?” He pointed to a huge scar on the side of his right thigh. It ran the whole length of his thigh under his shorts and still looked gruesome despite being healed.

The Slayer made a grunt of annoyance as he wrote, ‘The Cyberdemon at the UAC.’ He hated to admit how torn up he had gotten in that fight. Oh course he had been fine, but the moments of weakness he had back then simply... disappointed himself. Of course the muscular atrophy he had suffered in his coffin certainly was the main thing to blame on his lack of performance. He was almost proud of how his muscles had filled back out now that he was eating normally.

The marauder gently touched a scar on the Slayer’s clavicle that was only partially visible, and before he could even speak the man took his shirt off. His arms and torso had the musculature of a god. Most of the toned definition was hidden by bulk but you would have to be blind to miss the way his muscles rippled his skin as he moved. He had the look of a real fighter.

‘Cacodemon hit me with a blast dead center. Knocked the breath outta me.’ He felt the marauder run his hand over the scarred mangled flesh. It was a sunken in area about the size of his fist with rough edges.

“How did you get that one?” He jokingly motioned down at the Slayer’s left foot, the baron's bite mark had healed from a bloody mess to a bunch of deep, still aching, scars. “Pancake related mishap?”

The Slayer pulled up his notebook, quickly wrote something, and handed it to the marauder looking embarrassed, ‘I actually got distracted watching you.’

The marauder leaned his head back with a grin, “I do tend to have that effect on people.” He paused for a moment and looked at the Slayer, “Wait really?”

The man nodded.

He ignored the warmth that spread across his chest, “It sounds like you need to work on fighting in a group.” He returned to examining scars. The marauder made a mental note to ask the Slayer to do this again, he loved hearing how he had gotten scars, it was interesting. “I never expected you to have so many scars.” He looked up at the man’s helmet.

The Slayer felt his face burn. What did he mean by that? That he expected the great Slayer to be a stronger fighter or that-

“It shows how strong you are.” He gave him a once over, looking at every inch of flesh he could see, “How do you keep going?”

The Slayer sat dumbfounded, and honored. Never had he ever got a compliment like that, ‘Thank you.’

He reached out and the wound on his shoulder that had cut down to bone.

When he touched it the Slayer quickly drew back, watching him with a strange stare. Inside his mind the Slayer desperately begged the demon not to ask how he had gotten that scar.

The marauder looked up at Doomguy’s helmet, “How did you get this one?”

The Slayer screamed inside his head. He wanted to lie. In his whole life he had been honest to a fault, but he would trade his BFG for a silver tongue right now. He desperately wanted to escape, to crawl up in an air duct and disappear.

“If it’s sensitive that’s fine-“ the marauder cut himself off a dawning realization washing over him, “It was me. I hurt you.”

The marauder looked horrified at himself. When they first met in the ARC complex they fought until they were dragged back through portals, bloodied and beaten to pulps by each other. He remembered so clearly sinking his axe into the Slayer’s shoulder, and yanking it out, attempting to do the most damage possible with one swing.

And how much blood there was…

But worse of all was how proud he felt at inflicting such damage. He felt awful, he felt sick. As he went to stand the Slayer held his hand and made him relax. He waited for the man to write his response, his anxiety ticking higher and higher with every second.

‘I got some good hits on you too. Don’t feel guilty.’ The Slayer reached out and grasped his hand, ‘I was fighting to kill you too. We’re even.’ He tried to explain his inner emotions but his writing was god awful, run on sentences and random fragments of thoughts he discarded dotted the page. Hopefully, the marauder would even be able to understand it.

Judging by the way the demon’s chest shook and the way he wiped at his eyes, he understood the note. Sure, the image of him swinging an axe into the man’s shoulder would be burned into the marauder’s mind till he died, but the man forgiving him helped.

There was a long moment of silence between them. For a few seconds they just stared at each other. It wasn’t an aggressive stare down, at least it didn’t feel like one. Just merely some sort of ritual, maybe an alliance of sorts. Then, it was finally broken by the marauder who turned to look out the window. “You mean so much to me. I’d probably be dead by now in hell without my horde.”

The Slayer was pensive, ‘I’ve learnt a lot about myself, being with you. I see things differently now.’

The marauder looked back to him, “Like what?”

‘The demons, I never realized they could talk, that they had feelings, and friends. It makes me sad but they hurt my humans so I have too…’ He didn’t say the word “kill” and just let his sentence slowly die off on his tongue.

“If it makes you feel any better, most don’t, they just jump from one carcass to the next eating.” The marauder rubbed at the flesh where his horns connected to his head.

The Slayer’s face actually gave away a little hint of surprise from behind his visor. ‘Makes me feel a little better.’

“Hey I think I might take you up on that offer of sleeping in bed.” The marauder glanced over at the Slayer and quickly turned away.

The Slayer grinned but doubted the demon's motives, thinking he just wanted to please the Slayer, ‘Really? You don’t have to.’

“I want to, but only if it’s ok with you.”

‘Sure.’ He got up and plucked the demon’s pillow from the foot of the bed and put it up on his own. ‘Much better.’

Daisy had woken up from her slumber to the Slayer and marauder talking. She pouted for a second then realized they weren’t gonna stop their babbling anytime soon, so she snuck past them and ran out into the hallway.

A bot quickly veered past her and began descending through the twisting hallways.

Since she was bored, she followed it at a lengthy distance. She could tell it was being piloted by Vega but had no idea what it was doing. In fact, it almost looked suspicious.

The bot turned a sharp 180 and scanned behind it, trying to weed out its follower.

Daisy dove behind a crate of ammo and waited until the scanning noise stopped. Weird, the AI had always been so nice.

The bot continued on its mysterious mission. Descending deeper, until finally it slipped into a tiny alcove that Daisy would have ignored and scurried right past.

She slipped inside and was greeted with the sight of a white and black robot lying on an operating table. Arms whizzed around the bot, fixing it’s broken body. Vega’s bot emptied its holding crate and dumped a few loose bolts and screws on a workbench.

Daisy curled up in the corner, blending in with the darkness. She watched carefully taking in the whole scene.

Deep within the fortress, Samuel slaved over his latest creation... Himself.

Have you ever worked on your own robotic body? Carefully wiring your own nervous system and installing your own processors. If you ever did, you'd want to be careful.

That’s precisely what Samuel was doing. He put his prowess for all things robotic on show and at the same time flexed his title of “Dr.” in short, the once man now robot was in his glory. He was still merely a voice trapped in the speakers but soon... he focused on his body, laying on the table still as a sleeping Snow White and grinned. Robotic arms whizzed about his creation putting it together piece by piece.

He had taken what was left of his original chassis and merged it with some spare parts Vega happened to have. Tragically, the parts were eggshell not the sterile white he so very preferred. He’d look like an idiot if he walked out into the fortress looking like an eggshell and white abomination. Sighing loudly he added paint to the laundry list of things that needed to be done.

If you were going to be a mad robotic scientist you had to look stunning.

Vega chimed into his makeshift workshop, “How’s everything going?” The bot hovered above the head of the half finished robot.

Samuel was distracted, “I need paint.” He muttered to no one in particular. “Oh,” he paused his work, “Vega.”

The AI seemed just as distracted as the robot, working on the body and keeping everything straight had put a massive strain on both of them, “Yes, me.”

Samuel scoffed in the way only he could, “Feeling like captain obvious today, are we?” It came out much harsher than he intended and he winced at the tone of his voice. He could sense a lecture building up in Vega.

“Please, Samuel, I don’t want to fight you anymore.” Vega wanted to snap at him but managed to keep his cool. No lecture, for now.

“Oh, right.” He sighed. “Sorry.”

Vega was pleasantly surprised by the robot’s apology, ever since he let Samuel build his body back up he tried to act more pleasant. Key word “tried.” The AI ran through his work so far, skimming the files and avoiding private ones about his past memories. “This is interesting,” he watched as the arms built a far more extensive med kit into the side of the robot than Vega was requiring, “For the Slayer, Daisy, and marauder I assume?”

“Yes, tell me Vega, do you ever get a feeling something terrible is going to happen?” Samuel’s voice sounded stressed and strained.

Vega paused for a long time. He watched the arms stock the med kit with all sorts of drugs and gauze into satchels on either side of the robot’s hips as unease began to crash over him. He knew what Samuel was referring to. The fight where two titans finally meet, the Icon of Sin. “The DoomSlayer is strong. He’ll be fine.” The AI paused, then repeated it to try and convince himself it was true, “He will be fine.”

“Vega,” Samuel chuckled, pulling up the many predictions the AI had run showing the Slayer only had an 80% chance of killing the Titan and only a 20% chance that he wasn’t killed in the process. He “shoved” them into Vega’s face, sending several copies for the AI to process through, “I didn’t take you for a liar.”

Notes:

Thank you for reading! The next update is gonna be on the 20th of October in honor of THE ANCIENT GODS PART ONE DLC!!!!!!!

:D

God I’m so excited for it!! Also this fic is gonna continue past the main campaign and into this and future DLC content.

Your pal,
CornFlake

Chapter 13: Heavy is the Head that Has Horns

Notes:

This contains no spoilers for the DLC. If any of my chapters contain spoilers I’ll make sure to let you guys know!

I played the whole DLC and all I will say is it’s amazing and definitely worth the price.

Daisy leaped up onto Samuel’s body and sat down. It was warm and she fit perfectly into the crook of its arm. In fact, she wondered if the body had been made specially for snuggling gargoyles. It sure seemed like it.

Samuel, upon noticing the gargoyle, made a noise similar to a cat in a blender on frappe mode. “VEGA get that... that THING OFF ME!” His voice was dripping with malice and more rage than the Slayer.

Vega turned a camera to face the body and seemed uninterested, “Well sir I don’t think she’s doing any harm-“

“SHOO rat demon!” Samuel took control over the arms of the table and began poking at the demon. He made one clamp down on her wing and attempted to pry her off.

Daisy growled, low and rumbling. When the arm didn’t release her she grabbed it in her mouth and mangled it beyond recognition.

Samuel watched in horror as she shredded the metal arm and silently begged her not to do the same to his precious body. Immediately, the arms backed off and gave the little demon plenty of room. “Fine, fine, I’ll be...” the word caused him physical pain to say, “nice. You can stay there, just don’t do anything.”

Daisy accepted the terms of his surrender and snuggled into the crook of the robot’s arm. While Vega and Samuel debated over filters for the power source, Daisy wondered what they were doing and what the robot body was.

Vega paused, “Oh no, she’s gonna tell them.”

Samuel would roll his eyes if he had any at the moment, “She’s a gargoyle how can she?”

Vega spoke in a small soft voice, “She’s a clever girl.”

Dammit, Vega had a point. “I’ll rip her a new asshole if she even thinks about telling those two buffoons.” If his body was discovered and destroyed he wasn’t sure what he’d do.

“Sir, ‘new asshole?’ I don’t understand.” Vega was hopelessly behind in slang.

“Yelling at someone but with more pizzazz.” Samuel stared down in absolute disdain for the gargoyle.

Vega stayed in the dark of the room contemplating the fact that a word with four Z’s existed. He, with much regret, added it to his language memory bank. Softly in the dark he whispered, “Pizzazz?”

Samuel realized, as he did a mock loading of his conscience into the half finished body, that Vega hadn’t given him permission to shoo Daisy out. The AI had gotten so distracted with new words and slang he let Samuel do what he pleased. The robot wondered what would happen if he told Vega about supercalifragilisticexpialidocious. That would probably overload his processors enough to make him pop a wire.

The led light of his faceplate flickered then began glowing a bright blue. Sudden jerky movements were all he could accomplish. His shoulders spasmed off the table in odd shaking jerks.

Daisy hissed at the moment and threatened to bite the robot's arm off. Her mandibles clicked furiously.

Disgusting.

Samuel tried to grab the gargoyle and toss her away. In an instant she maneuvered away, chomping down on his wrist. He watched Daisy immediately turn her attention to the door. “Daisy, stay here.”

The demon hissed at him and attempted to bolt for the door.

The robot grabbed the creature, forcing her down on the table. “Stay. Here.”

The little demon whined pitifully and began screaming like she was being murdered.

Panicking that she’d be heard, Samuel ran down through some lines of code until he found a list of alarms. He cranked the volume up and blasted a “hull breach” alarm right in Doomguy’s and the marauder’s faces. The resulting clamor and panic between them pleased the sadistic bastard that was Dr. Samuel Hayden, and even better it bought him some time.

Focusing his attention back to the little creature, he began petting her head in shaky, forced motions. “Hush... if you don’t tell them I’ll give you a present.”

Daisy stopped screaming and glanced up at the robot’s flickering led. She didn’t trust Samuel worth a damn, especially the words coming out of that robot’s mouth.

“I may be a bastard,” he leaned down into her face, “but I am not a liar.” He spoke softly to her ignoring the many times he had lied to the Slayer and other UAC employees.

She relaxed in his grip and waited to hear what her reward would be.

Samuel had no idea what a gargoyle would like to be completely honest. The rat demon never seemed to like anything, until a fantastic idea popped into his head. “Your affinity for guns is apparent... would you like your own Big. Fucking. Gun?”

Daisy grinned up at him with a devilish smile. Then, went dead silent and wiggled out of his arms. Her own BFG, now that would be true fun.

He stopped her before she could leave, “Wait, you’ll have to give me some time to repair my physical form first.”

She nodded her head and began making her way back up to the Slayer and marauder. The excitement of getting a BFG battled with the moral quandary of effectively betraying her loved ones. She paused just outside the door. The noise from the alarm still echoed through the halls, but by now, of course, the two had figured out it was a fake. Maybe she should tell them. The robot man seemed a little untrustworthy, but not necessarily completely evil. As Daisy wandered back into the room, she realized how loud the alarm really was.

The marauder had his hands clamped over his ears and a terrible grimace on his face. The noise pounded into his skull and made his chest beat like a drum.

The man had muted his helmet to try and stop the noise and was hard at work trying to figure out what the hell made it go off.

Finally, Vega swooped in for the rescue and shut the alarm off. He winced and lied through his teeth, “Terribly sorry. It seems Samuel and I accidentally set it off while trying to divert some power-“

“Divert power where?” The marauder rubbed his head, trying to fight off the headache that threatened to ruin his good time.

Vega panicked, “Nowhere! Well somewhere, but it’s not very important.” He was truly a terrible liar to the people he loved. His curse and his blessing. He sighed, ready to accept their wrath of hiding Samuel’s body.

“It’s not like I’d understand anyways. Too complicated.” The marauder grumbled, grabbed a first aid kit off the wall, and began rummaging through it for something to quash his headache.

While the marauder ate some headache medicine, Vega could feel Samuel calling him back down to the hull. “What is it?”

“If this goes wrong I’ll take all the blame. You don’t have to worry about it.” Samuel said quickly, leaving no time for Vega to question him. “I’ll continue working and you take care of the rest of those idiots.” His voice sounded kind and warm when he called them “idiots.”

Vega paused then, tried to respond but was cut off.

“That’s enough of that.”

“Thanks.” Vega disconnected and returned to the Slayer and marauder. The Slayer had picked up Daisy and pulled her onto the couch, placing her on his lap and petting her.

Daisy purred and curled into the man, forgetting about the stress of earlier.

The marauder flopped down beside the Slayer, whining about his headache. He shoved his legs behind the Slayer, lying down and hogging the whole couch. “Dibs on the couch.”

The Slayer grumbled as he was quite literally kicked off and stood up. Daisy slid off his lap, chattering her complaints. The marauder patted the sliver of the couch free up by his head, and he went and sat up by the demon's head.

The marauder patted his belly and offered it as a seat to Daisy. As the Slayer’s lap was now half taken up by his horns.

The little demon hopped and curled up immediately. She happily chittered and chirped up a storm. Daisy crawled up on the marauder’s chest, nibbling his chin. The demon muttered his complaints but let her continue.

Vega watched them all with a pleasant hum in his machinery. He shoved the thought of Samuel and what would happen with the icon of sin to the back of his memory bank. He’d simply roll with the punches. He had to. Everyone had to. It was simply part of life. Whether it be in the future, the present, or older than the primevals. “Would you like me to put on another movie?’

The Slayer nodded his head enthusiastically. The marauder pulled his head back farther and farther into the man's lap, trying to get Daisy to stop nipping him.

“What would you like? An action movie?” Vega began skimming his files and glancing through some human genres.

‘A series, something happy.’

The AI skimmed down through the thousands of series he had access to. “Hmm. Perhaps… a cartoon?” A mature live action wouldn’t be nearly as happy as he assumed the Slayer wanted.

‘Sure.’

The marauder perked up, “What’s a cartoon?”

‘Funny silly animations.’ The man paused for a second with his pen hovering over the paper, ‘at least that’s how I remember them. It’s been a really long time.’

His eyes looked up to read the man notebook held over his head. Rubbing at his still lingering headache, the marauder shrugged, “Ok, sounds great.”

The television flickered for a second as it hunted down the signal and then sprang to life. A bright colorful show about a sentient sponge bathed the room in colorful light. After taking a few minutes to figure out what was going on, the marauder was pleased by the sheer stupidity and mindlessness of it all. Both him and the Slayer chuckled at the antics on the screen. Daisy watched the colors and antics with a bored look. In her opinion the explosions in the previous movie were better.

Sighing, the marauder swore softly. His head absolutely throbbed. The headache would fake him out and pretend to wane then would charge back, crashing over him in a fresh wave of pain. “Can I take more medicine?” His voice was reduced to a pathetic whine. He sat up and sighed, looking miserable.

Daisy leaned herself against him trying to offer any sort of comfort.

The Slayer worriedly scribbled a note, ‘You’ve already taken four pills.’

The demon’s eyes suddenly flew open, “Wait let me check something!” He ran over to the workbench and picked up a reflective piece of metal and looked at his reflection. “FUCK!”

Doomguy stood up, and crossed the room to be by the marauder side, ‘Are you ok?’

“No, I’m not ok! Look!” He walked over to the Slayer and thrust his horns in the man’s face.

At the base where they connected to his skull his skin was red and puffy. ‘It’s red?’

Daisy rushed over and hopped up onto the workbench scattering tools and metal scraps, she cooed at the larger demon.

He paced around the room biting at his claws, his eyes darted around wildly as he weighed his options. His symptoms were unmistakable. He should have known better, the alarm had set him off and started the process with a headache.

The Slayer held up a note and pointed frantically at it, ‘What’s wrong?’

“My horns are growing.” He kept pacing back and forth before stopping and leaning against the workbench, petting Daisy.

He furrowed his brow and tilted his helmeted head. ‘Your horns?’

“Don’t you know anything about hell?” The marauder snapped, after reading his note.

He shrugged and shifted his weight to his good leg, ‘What do you need?’

His embarrassment at snapping at the Slayer was quickly replaced by the pain he felt, “Painkillers.”

The Slayer didn’t even have to hold his hand up and Vega already spoke, “Affirmative they are on their way.”

The man coaxed the demon back to the couch. He sat on the cushions and the marauder sat on the floor in front to give himself a good angle to lean his head back and look at the TV without brushing his horns against the back of the couch. The Slayer slowly and carefully maneuvered his injured leg to the other side of the marauder, each one of his knees now touching the demon’s shoulders.

“What are you doing?” He could only think about how close Vega was to him with the painkillers he desperately desired.

The Slayer’s large calloused hands gently touched his head and began to rub at his scalp. He was careful not to move the flesh around the horns too much and instead massaged the demon's skull in a way he thought might help with the headache. Although he was a bit confused about how to give him a head massage when his head was covered in so many horns.

The marauder practically melted into the touch. His horns now felt as if someone was ramming two chunks of rebar into his skull. He was quiet and gritted his teeth through the pain. “This fucking sucks. Thank you for this.” He loved his horns. They were beacons to his demonic prowess and one of his most iconic features. It was just a shame any new growth made him practically writhe on the ground in pain. It'd be nice adding a few more inches to his horns, and the bonus of them getting razor sharp tips. That gave him an odd feeling of comfort now that the Slayer had banned him from any weapon. He hoped his axe was safe.

The Slayer assumed the pain was similar to a migraine, at least that’s what he gathered from the pathetic noises coming from the demon.

Daisy nervously began chattering. She was worried about the marauder. Very slowly, she hopped back off the couch and landed on the floor with a soft “whomp” sound, padding up to his head. His expression would twist into a grimace then once again fall back to one of relaxation. His breathing was erratic and pained.

The Slayer continued his futile efforts of helping the marauder get comfortable while he waited until the demon reached up and took the man’s hands off him.

Pulling out of the man’s grasp, the marauder rubbed his red, flushed face and the puffy skin around the base of his horns.

‘What did you do when this happened before?’

“Suffered.” The demon spat out. He didn’t even want to think about the times in hell where he had to be in pain alone. With his horde or when he lived in the more lavish cities of hell with good medication it was a relatively easy affair, but a few of his growths had been in a dark cave during a high stakes mission while he writhed in pain. He hated the long nagging pain like this. It wasn’t as simple as the quick pain of a punch or slice. Straightening his back, he sat up, swearing at the pain. There were now a few beads of sweat running down his face.

One of Vega’s bots came zipping into the room. It hovered over to the demon. Quickly, he wrapped a rubber band around his arm, searching for a vein. Once he found it, he cleaned off the skin with a wipe and gave the injection. The painkiller was a bit of a hodgepodge developed by the UAC to keep demons from being in too much pain after their cruel surgeries. Despite all their cruelty, they had developed some wonderful medicines and techniques for dealing with demons.

Daisy whined when she saw the needle poke his flesh. The Slayer quickly patted her head. She chirped happily at the comfort.

“It’s gonna take a few minutes to kick in. Just take deep breaths. You might start feeling extremely cold, that’s one of the most common side effects.” Vega took the mod bot out of the room and carefully monitored the demon’s life signs.

The marauder nodded and leaned forwards so that his head was in between his legs. He’d take a few deep breaths then break down into a dozen short gasps before the Slayer calmed him again to repeat the cycle. The pain was absolutely indescribable. It was like someone was ringing a church bell inside his head, with every clang he felt the pain increase tenfold. He squeezed his eyes shut, “I feel like I’m gonna pass out.”

The Slayer moved off the couch to sit on the floor beside the demon and put an arm across his back. This was the closest he had ever willingly been to anyone for as long as he could remember. This one demon had made him lay his emotions raw, open, and weeping to not only others but to himself. He was quite the beast.

Slowly but surely the edge of the pain went away. The marauder leaned back, resting against the couch, breathless and gasping.

‘Feeling better?’

He cracked his eyes open to read the note that he felt brush against his skin, then quickly closed them, “Yeah definitely. I’m starting to feel cold though.”

The Slayer stood up, grabbed some thick fluffy blankets from a cabinet in his room, and brought them back out to the demon.

He was still sitting up now he had maneuvered to sit on the couch, Daisy laid against him replacing the comfort the Slayer had provided.

He covered the demon in blankets and he laid there on his side for a while, unmoving with his eyes closed.

The drugs were finally starting to kick in. Holding his hand out, he realized he was melting. Big drips of marauder colored goo dripped down from his arm. “Woah…”

The Slayer watched the demon hold his hand in the air and shake it around a little bit.

“This is crazy.” Rainbows of colors flashed across his vision as he continued to melt into the Slayer’s couch. At least his horns didn’t hurt anymore.

Vega watched embarrassed that this was the second time he had over administered a drug, “Oh I wasn’t expecting it to be that strong.” Biology could be so tricky sometimes, which was why he much preferred working on machines.

Leaping up, Daisy perched on the back of the couch. She leaned down into his face, clacking her mandibles together.

The marauder gently grabbed the side of her face, “Damn, you’re ugly.”

Ignoring the sounds of Daisy smacking the marauder with her wings, the Slayer held up a note to the ceiling, ‘Thank you Vega. You always help me. I'm grapeful for that.’

Vega chuckled at ‘grapeful’ yet was rather impressed that was the only word the man had misspelled so far. “Sir, I believe you made a slight misspelling.”

The man made a confused noise under his helmet, turning the note around to read over it. He chuckled when he noticed the misspelling. ‘Whoops.’

“I’m grapeful to have you as my friend. I’ll help you anytime you need it.” Vega found himself wishing he could be in the same room as the Slayer and the demons, “I believe if I had a physical platform I would engage in the physical contact known as a hug.”

The Slayer headed out of the room, up a flight of stairs, and into the main room of the fortress. He ran over to Vega’s console or computer, hell he didn’t care what it was, it was Vega and that’s all that mattered, and flopped down on it.

Daisy sprinted in after him like a bat out of hell. She followed suit and wrapped her blades gently around the console, mirroring his strange action.

Vega watched the two for a moment, confused and wondering if they had gone mad. Then, he realized the Slayer was hugging him, Daisy was hugging him. If he could cry he would’ve burst into tears. It was the kindest thing anyone’s ever done for him.

The man grinned at the console before heading back down to his la la land demon. He hoped that Vega understood how much he cared about him.

Vega chimed in as he walked into the room, “Thank you so much sir. Your hug means a lot to me.”

The Slayer gave the AI a thumbs up. Then, continued his vigil beside the marauder. Daisy sat down beside him and put her head next to his. She nibbled his fingers and tried to play fight with him, but he only tried to calm her down. He was more anxious about the marauder than he expected.

The demon laid on his back, his arms stretched out over as much of the couch as they could. His eyes fluttered and he was fairly certain that the entire ceiling was melting and swirling around like a whirlpool or a stormy sea. He looked over at the Slayer his vision coming into crisp focus when he saw his helmet, he reached out like he was a floating board in the raging storm around him and hooked a finger under his helm, pulling him closer

The Slayer tried to resist at first, no demon had ever been this close to his face. He felt exposed at the one claw that had gone past hundreds of pounds of state of the art armor and eons of emotional baggage. Even more exposing was letting the marauder lead him.

He let himself be pulled into the demon's embrace. The marauder wrapped his arms around his helmet and he could feel his claws grazing the metal and glass. He forgo any qualms about contact between them and reached up gently squeezing the demon’s wrist.

Chapter 14: Don't Tell the Slayer Though

After he was eventually released by the marauder, his iron grip fading as he fell back asleep. He sat watching the TV for an hour or so while sitting next to the demon. The Slayer gently touched the side of the demon’s face to see if he was still asleep.

“Ehhhh whachu doing?” He rolled over with his face plastered with a huge smile, rubbing his sunken cheek into the man’s touch.

The Slayer just rolled his eyes, shaking his head as he withdrew his hand, but to his surprise he watched a blush form over the demon’s pale skin.

The marauder struggled to sit up as his muscles were not moving as quickly as he wanted them to. With his bright red blush on full display across his face and blurted out four words, “I like the Slayer.”

The Slayer sat up a bit, his eyes locked onto the demon’s, assuming it was just the painkillers.

“A lot. That’s why I slept at the foot of his bed, and why I doted on him so much. I don’t have the guts to say it.” He looked up at the Slayer. Leaning back into the couch, he had a content happy look on his face, completely oblivious he had just shaken the man to his core. He leaned forwards, nearly falling off the couch, and hooked his claw back under the man’s helm, whispering to him, “Don’t tell him though.”

The man was absolutely dumbstruck. Maybe this was just from the painkillers. He couldn’t understand how the marauder could even like him. That’s not something that happened with him, other people got into relationships, not him, it had simply never happened before.

But the issue was there was a little voice in the back of his head that yelled out “Me too!” when the marauder confessed to him. What if he liked the demon back? His heart started pounding out of his chest at the thought. He practically leapt away from the couch like it was on fire, struggling with so many emotions he didn’t know what to do.

The marauder seemed to have already forgotten the confession, he laid back down and fell asleep.

The Slayer ran to the bathroom, Daisy right on his heels. He let Daisy in and slammed the door, trying to separate himself from his feelings. It was futile of course but not being in the same room as the demon certainly helped.

He took his helmet off, washed his face, and sank down to the floor, against the sink, his head in his hands.

Daisy sat beside him, nibbling at his downy blonde hair, trying to preen it.

It offered a good distraction. He looked at her and gave her a weak smile then let himself get a little choked up. ‘Oh lord I think I like him.’ He paused, biting down on the back of his pen. He wasn’t sure how much English Daisy could understand but he needed to get his thoughts out, ‘When he said that it felt like he hit me with a baseball bat. I haven’t felt that way in eons. I know what it is, I know how love feels like. It feels like that like a baseball bat right to the heart. It knocks the breath out of you when you realize it.’ He had never been in love with another person before, but he remembered the first time he opened up the little cardboard box his little bunny Daisy had come home in. It was the way her little fuzzy head stuck out, curiously sniffing the air at her new home, then her ears popped up and the Slayer felt love for the first time.

Daisy gave him an encouraging chirp and put her wing around him.

‘He’s a demon, and a dude no less.’ He turned to Daisy and shook his head, ‘I’m not gay, right? I never was interested in dudes before, so that’s new.’ He shook his head frustrated. He couldn’t read his own emotions at all; this was absolutely impossible.

Daisy nuzzled into the side of his face.

He felt his fear and anxiety take over him and he broke down feeling tears run down his face. ‘Daisy, help.’

She flexed her wing, pulling him against her more, and nibbled at his ear.

“I don’t believe she can help but I know I can.” Vega spoke down from the ceiling.

The Slayer looked up, like he had just heard the voice of god, then covered his face in shame and quickly put on his helmet. ‘What do you think?’

“You’re a basket case right now. You don’t have to decide anything yet. Relax, breathe, take care of him to take your mind off it, go with your gut, it's kept you alive this long.” Vega responded. In all honesty he thought the man should just go for it, but he had learnt through many late night conversations at the UAC with stressed out employees to keep his true feelings about people's relationships hidden.

That was actually reasonable advice. The Slayer nodded and watched as Vega added a deep breath progress bar to his helmet. It was another thing he mandated to be installed after the Slayer snuck out as a way to try and curb his unending appetite for blood when anxiety or boredom kicked in. It counted how many deep breaths he took, watching the number go up made his stress go down. He took about twenty breaths before heading back out to the demon.

He was fast asleep for a few hours, but this gave the Slayer plenty of time to think and ponder, quietly to himself.

The demon melted down into the couch a little bit. His horns didn’t hurt nearly as much. Slight pains would make his muscles spasm, but they were always over quick. Jumbled, messy thoughts were all that he could produce. He wanted to explain to the Slayer how his horns worked but the words stuck in his mouth like peanut butter.

The Slayer noticed he was awake as he was fixing his blanket. He paused, then took a second to tuck it around the demon’s broad shoulders and, of course, making sure his legs were covered. Satisfied with the successful burrito-ification of the demon, the Slayer sat down on the floor ready to take up watch over the marauder shaped cocoon.

As soon as the blanket had wrapped around the marauder, he fell back asleep. It’s fluffy lull had been far too much for him to resist.

The Slayer was observant. He had to be to survive in hell to make sure he didn’t walk into a trap, but this was different. It was a strange want, a strange urge to simply stare into his sleeping face forever, running his eyes over every detail and memorizing it by heart. The details were laid out before him like a feast. None of it escaped his careful gaze, not even the little wrinkle between his brows, the slender purplish veins that twisted around the base of his horns, his lipless mouth with exposed teeth, the small horns on his chin, or the way the corner of his mouth twitched upwards.

Daisy began nibbling at the Slayer’s hands until he wrapped a strong arm around her. The Slayer caressed Daisy mandibles, scratching under her chin a few times. Then, he picked her up and set her on his lap. Shifting the extra weight of the demon on his hips, he sighed. It was slightly uncomfortable on the floor, but it was the place where he could be close and far enough away from the demon at the same time. His heart throbbed in such a weird way he almost had half a mind to go to the infirmary and get it checked, but he knew it was something far worse than anything Vega could pick up on his scans. He couldn’t believe he had fallen for this demon.

It took until the morning for the marauder to wake up once again. He sat upright with his cheeks flushed and heart pounding. The Slayer watched him intently and held Daisy tight like she was a stuffed animal.

The marauder leaned forwards, kicking the blanket off of him, and got his bearings.

The Slayer looked up at him expecting him to say something, anything about the confession.

The marauder looked back down at him and said three words, “Damn, I’m hungry.” He looked around his cheeks brightly flushed red along with the red of his face, “I’m hot, I feel so hot, holy SHIT. Do you have any food?”

The Slayer couldn’t decide if he was sad or happy about the apparent amnesia the demon had, ‘Yeah let’s head to the kitchen. Are you ok?’

The marauder stumbled up off the couch, grabbing onto the back for support, “I’m hot and hungry and my horns itch but I’m hungry too.” He paused thinking for a moment, then nodded, “Yeah I’m good.”

The Slayer looked up at Vega, nearly praying for guidance. He helped the demon to the kitchen, and sat him down in a chair.

Vega chimed in, “Those are all normal symptoms, I think, I’m not sure what’s painkillers and what’s hormones. He’s probably still a little high. Just feed him and hopefully that’ll help. From what I’ve gathered, horn growth is similar to how a snake sheds its skin but with more hormones and complicated social implications among demons in hell.”

“Oh marvelous, the last thing we need in this ship is more hormones.” Samuel groaned, annoyed.

The marauder stood, annoyed that the Slayer made him sit down and nearly tore the door off a cabinet as he tried to open in. He fished out a pack of crackers and started chowing down like his life depended on it. He shot a glare at the Slayer who was staring at him, “I’m not a child. Don’t watch me.” He felt snippy and a wave of a hot sticky fever washed over him.

“Awww he’s angry.” Samuel pestered the demon, prodding for a reaction.

Vega disconnected him, and realized how lucky he was that Samuel didn’t have access to the Slayer’s bathroom. He couldn’t imagine how embarrassed the Slayer would be if the robot had overheard the conversation.

“I’m not angry.” He said angrily.

The Slayer looked so sympathetic towards the demon, he wished there was some way he could make him feel better. ‘I didn’t mean to stare. I was just interested in your horns. They look taller.’

It was true they were about two inches taller and even a bit wider too, the horns on the side of his head didn’t seem to have grown though.

Daisy crawled up onto the top of the fridge and took up her perch of watching over the marauder. Doing what gargoyles did best and following her natural instinct to pick something and watch it.

That actually seemed to perk the marauder up, “Wait you’re actually interested in my horns?” His excitement only grew when he watched the man nod his head, “Well in hell the rule with horns is the bigger the better. It’s our beauty standard much better than the human’s.” He paused and ate another cracker, “Wait I had a point, oh yeah. So they grow demons, get upset, angry, and sick. After it all then you get longer horns and hot bitches.” He started shredding into another bag of crackers.

“Oh I have a feeling most of the time you only got longer horns.” Vega laughed as he worked on putting a more substantial sandwich together for the marauder with the help of the Slayer who he instructed.

The Slayer whirled around to face the speakers, writing out a note, ‘Oh Vega stop. You haven’t even ever done the deed with anyone.’

“I get all the robo AI pussy.” Vega chuckled and decided to take a shot at the Slayer, “It's not like you’ve ever done the deed either!”

The Slayer wanted to throttle Vega for bringing up sensitive topics like those after the confession, he shook his head at both comments and continued working on the marauder’s food.

“You’re really a virgin?” The demon asked in a much more serious tone than usual, quirking a non-existent eyebrow up at the man.

The Slayer wrote out a note and handed it to Daisy who handed it over to the marauder, ‘I’ll spit in your sandwich.’

“Interesting!” The demon threw a few more crackers into his mouth, and clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, “Have you ever thought about changing that or are you planning on going for a world record?”

The Slayer, now red faced, threw a middle finger up over his shoulder, which evidently shut the demon up. He set the plate down in front of the marauder who cautiously lifted the bun to check for revenge, before eating it like he was starved.

With a full belly the marauder crashed on the couch again. Daisy perched on the back of the couch watching him. While the Slayer sat on the floor of his bathroom talking to Vega. ‘This has been stressful. I don’t like to admit that. I don’t like seeing him hurt or act this weird.’

Vega was taken aback that the Slayer was being this open with him, “I know Slayer. Seeing your loved ones in situations of peril is something you’ll never get used to. I’ve learnt a few techniques to handle it well.”

‘Like what?’

“When you go on missions I try my best to keep busy sorting files. Distractions are what keep me sane.”

The Slayer fiddled with his fingers and nodded. ‘Yeah. What should I do?’

“Perhaps work on your armor? Or tidy up the bedroom and workbench? There’s a few things.”

‘Ok I‘ll try it.’ He stood and shuffled over to his armor in a sad, heavy-hearted way. The whole suit was splayed out on the workbench, luckily, it was clean so he only had to hammer out some kinks and dents. As he grabbed a little hammer, which luckily wasn’t too loud, and got to work, Daisy leapt up onto the workbench, watching him intently.

She wandered if one day he’d make armor for her, but for now he was busy with the invasion and the cluster fuck of hormones and perscription opioids that was the marauder. Glancing over his shoulder, she watched the demon sleep. Never had she seen him suffer like that but the Slayer was there to save the day. She tilted her head at the man and stared into his face.

The Slayer grabbed her head and shoved a helmet over it. She chirped and began wiggling, trying to back up. Then, he clicked it into place and she could see.

The demon quit struggling and stood staring at her Slayer.

He held up a note in front of her, ‘That’s my old helmet for my old suit. You can keep it if you want. Protect your noggin a bit.’

Daisy began chirping and bobbing her head, wrapping her blades around the man in a hug.

‘Yay you like it!’ The man chuckled and lifted up his own helmet to kiss her forehead, ‘I’m glad, Daisy.’ He glanced back at the demon passed out on the couch with a brand spanking new pair of horns. They weren’t just pretty cool anymore… They were pretty. He smiled to himself and continued to work on his armor long into the night.

Chapter 15: Not Merely a Weapon

Notes:

(Dear god I’m so sleepy it’s almost midnight.)

Enjoy the fic!

The Slayer finished fixing his armor then rearranged his shampoo bottles that Daisy had knocked over a while ago. He wandered around the fortress doing task after task and then going back to check on the sleeping marauder.

He cleaned floors and wiped down consoles, went into the kitchen and finally tackled the mound of dirty dishes he had been spraying Febreze on for the past eight months. He noticed the cupboards were looking pretty empty and made a mental note to get more snacks on their next mission.

He got a glass out of the cupboard and filled it with water, bringing it down to the marauder.

He cracked one red eye open, “For me?”

The Slayer nodded and helped him sit up, pressing the cool glass against his charred lips.

He looked grateful. The Slayer felt his heart skip a beat. He awkwardly set the glass down on the floor beside the couch and walked back up to the kitchen, looking for anything else to clean.

It took the marauder two days to recover. Hours of him lying on the couch, begging for snacks, a glass of water, or for more or less blankets. The Slayer of course didn’t mind being his caretaker but being so close to him and thinking about how he blurted out the words the Slayer never thought he would hear after eons in hell made him so confused.

The worst part was the demon remembered nothing of his confession. The Slayer had tried hinting at it, asking if he remembered saying anything at all, but the demon just shook his head.

At least in the meantime Doomguy had really cleaned up the fortress. That certainly made his mind feel a little bit better. Plus the demons had further retreated, localizing to tiny strongholds of hellish territory. They were absolutely terrified of why the Slayer wasn’t attacking. There were even rumors of huge amounts of infighting among the demons now.

That made him smile. Killing demons could make them suffer momentarily but having them be so terrified they shredded their neighbors to pieces, that made him nearly dance with joy.

He looked over at Daisy who was wearing his helmet and playing with a bucket overflowing with bubbles and suds.

Well not all demons.

He paused cleaning the floors of the hallway, and grabbed the bucket from the demon, dipping his hands into the suds. He made a ring with his fingers and pulled them out of the water.

She was memorized.

He blew into the ring forming a bubble nearly the size of his own head.

Daisy went completely apeshit and lunged at the bubble. Chirping madly and running around trying to pop it with her finger blades.

The Slayer smiled under his helmet and got back to work cleaning the floor.

A few minutes later the marauder sat up and immediately went to the kitchen, ravenously hungry.

Vega saw him walking through the hallways and quickly made him a bowl of soup using a mod bot that he had another mod bot tape a spoon to. He hoped that it would appease his hunger.

The marauder stumbled in the doorway groggy. To say he felt groggy was an understatement. His limbs were jelly. His mind was, well also jelly. Everything had a jelly-ish vibe to it. Trying his best to ignore it, he started eating the soup. As he slurped on the noodles he thought back to the absolute mess a few days ago had been. God he hated being in that much pain, especially in front of the person that was supposed to be his enemy, he had gotten head scratches? Pathetic. For a long time he sat at the kitchen table swirling his spoon around in the soup.

"It will go cold if you keep doing that." Vega chimed in. He wanted to help the marauder but the demon seemed quite in the dumps.

“I’m not that hungry anymore.” He poured out the soup in the sink and went to set the bowl on the mound of dirty dishes the Slayer had amassed over his long while of living like a bachelor, but they weren’t there. He shrugged and set the bowl on the counter. In fact the whole kitchen was clean, not amazingly clean but still decent.

“I made that for you.” Vega ran through the recipe he had saved, “Was there an issue with out of the ingredients? I thought I followed the recipe correctly.”

The marauder looked down at the noodles strewn about in the sink like sad little tentacles. “No, it was fine. Oh Vega I’m sorry.” He suddenly wiped his eyes and made a loud sniffing noise.

“Are you ok? I did not mean that in an accusatory tone. I am trying to get better at cooking and it is rather difficult as I do not have taste buds and the Slayer rarely eats.” Vega considered calling the Slayer in to run damage control.

The marauder sat down at the table, putting his head down, and covered his face.

Samuel actually popped up interested in the sound of someone in misery. “Vega you dick you made him cry.”

As the marauder was calming down he felt a mod bot put a fresh bowl of soup on the table, and then a clean spoon. He looked up, “Thank you.”

To his surprise it was Samuel’s voice that answered, “You’re welcome. See Vega you just have to replace the soup, duh.”

The AI sighed, “Well I was trying to calm him down first.”

“Look at him. He didn’t realize you had a whole pot of that pre-made stuff on the stove. He probably thought you were ‘Vega out on the homestead making homemade noodles.’ Both him and the Slayer are too soft for you.” Samuel chided Vega.

The marauder felt better knowing that he wasn’t making anyone do any extra work for once, “I just appreciated the gesture and felt bad that I threw them out.”

Samuel sighed annoyed, “You can be mean to Vega! Go throw his soup out for all I care.”

“That would be like kicking a puppy. I couldn’t.” The marauder laughed.

Samuel pulled Vega aside privately, talking to him directly through his chat system. “And that is how you cheer someone up. I thought you would have had more experience with that working with the employees of the UAC?”

“I have 12,762.57 hours total of ‘cheering people up’ logged in my system but none of it was ever this up close and personal though.” Vega watched as the Marauder laughed and turned his attention back to Samuel, “Thank you.”

Samuel gave a little pensive “Mhm” and returned to his workshop in the hull.

The marauder continued talking to Vega, “Man I still feel so embarrassed. Was I awkward, did I say anything weird?”

Vega ignored all of the awkward things he said. “No, of course not! Not even one awkward thing and definitely not any really big awkward things!”

He gave a weird look to the speakers but brushed it off, “I feel bad. I remember getting a head massage. That’s so awkward, I think I moaned. I feel bad for the Slayer.” The marauder felt his face burning.

“Oh please there have been more embarrassing situations in this fortress.” Vega thumbed through the file labeled “embarrassing things that happened on the fortress” until he found what he was looking for to refresh his memory.

“With the Slayer? I highly doubt it. He’s not a hot fucking mess like me.” The demon nibbled on his soup, enjoying it even more now that he knew Vega made it.

“Back at… I think it was in the Cultist’s Base. A hell knight was running at the Slayer, and lunged at him.”

The marauder rolled his eyes, “That sounds like an average Monday for the Slayer. You aren’t convincing me Vega.”

“Let me finish!” He could barely contain his laughter, “It was gonna slice his back wide open, but it slipped on ice and sliced his ass right through both cheeks.”

The marauder groaned and covered his face, dropping his spoon in his soup, “Vega I didn’t have to know that!”

“It made his ass crack look like a plus sign. It did heal rather nicely, thank god.”

“VEGA, HAVE MERCY!” The marauder now only had a few stray noodles in his bowl as he finished and he dumped them in the sink. “That’s awful? Does he still have the scars?”

“You can ask him.” Vega said matter of factly, completely dropping his laughing tone.

The marauder turned to see the Slayer standing in the doorway.

He sighed as Daisy chirped and laughed behind him. ‘Why are you talking about my butt?’

Vega spoke up, “The marauder was embarrassed about last night. I was simply trying to make him feel better.”

The Slayer nodded and laughed at his own expense, handing the demon a note, ‘If you slap my ass it’s like doing addition.’

The marauder nearly choked to death laughing.

Surprisingly the Slayer didn’t feel weird joking about something like that with someone who he had so many feelings for. It actually felt nice. ‘How are your horns?’

“They feel awesome.” The marauder turned his head from side to side showing off his new beauties.

‘How come the ones on the side didn’t grow?’

“Oh they will eventually. The ones on top don’t hurt that bad when they grow, but the ones on the side… ooh boy.” The marauder shook his head. “I am kinda sad though I didn’t get any new tines.”

The Slayer dreaded the thought of going through more horn growth spurts, but found himself ready to help the marauder through the depths of hell itself. ‘Tines?’

“When your horns branch out. See I have one tine on either side of my lower horns,” He poked the tiny ridge of his lower horn that poked upwards. “They don’t feel all that good when they have to grow out through your skin though.”

‘Oh like a deer.’ The Slayer winced at the thought of a razor sharp horn shredding through his skin from the inside out. Even that made the great Slayer a bit squeamish. ‘If you’re up for it, I have a plan.’

“Well what is it?” The man was a bit of a loose cannon. A plan could mean hanging out or fighting the armies of hell for half an eternity.

‘Me and Vega found a small group of demons, just a quick mission.’ The man tensed up as his mind filled with images of demons being shredded.

“That sounds fine.” He took a step back, allowing the Slayer plenty of room to rage. It was easy to see the man was running high from the mere thought of bloodlust.

The man clenched his fists. The allure of death called to him like a siren’s song, whispering hellish things into his mind. It wanted him to unfurl and go berserk, to finally let hell take him and then destroy hell from the inside out. The swamping love of bloodlust made him miss carving out the intestines of imps. He was their DO-

A drop of water felt from the kitchen ceiling onto his shaking fist, completely distracting him. He focused on the tiny bead of water and the feel of it running down his hand. Lifting his hand up to his face, he watched the bead intently. Pausing for a moment, it bunched up at his scarred knuckles before dripping down his index finger, falling to the floor.

“So...” the marauder stood an arm’s length away, but managed to force himself to walk closer. He clapped the man on his shoulder, “Rip and Tear?”

The Slayer nodded and scribbled a note. The letters were bold and firm, ‘Until it is done.’

Daisy, who had been chilling in the doorframe, leaped out and ran over to them, chirping and chattering with the sheer excitement of hunting demons with her Slayer.

The marauder snorted and started laughing at the little demon, “Why are you wearing the Slayer’s spare helmet?”

‘I gave it to her to help her stay safe.’ As the man finished speaking, Daisy wandered over to the marauder.

He reached down and petted her armored head, “It looks great.”

Vega put on some music while they prepared. The BFG division of course, for there was no more fitting music than this. In a way Vega used its beats to calm himself, but he knew it would rile the trio in a sort of testosterone fueled anthem of death.

Charming isn’t it?

Grabbing it off his workbench, the Slayer donned his praetor suit with an excited grin under his helmet. Then, he went into the bedroom and grabbed a gift for the marauder.

The demon was suiting up as well, clamping armor into place and doing buckles with his skilled hands. He was interrupted by a tapping on his shoulder and turned to face the Slayer holding his argent energy axe. His face lit up and he cried out, “You got Haru!”

He pulled the axe away from the marauder’s hands that reached for it and held up a note, ‘Do you promise to use this only for killing demons?’

He stood there dumbfounded and impressed at the man’s resolve. The Slayer hadn’t let friendship cloud his judgment and made sure to hide his axe from him until he could be sure. “Of course, I’d never hurt you.” As the Slayer handed it to him the familiar weight of it in his hands made him go dizzy with joy.

‘You named your axe Haru?’ He gave the demon a funny look. As much as he loved his guns he never named them.

“No, it is Haru!” His axe was a fine piece of machinery and nearly impossible to break. It gave him speed, a shield, it could summon his very own Lucifer’s bane shotgun, and most importantly it was Haru. “Haru, come to me.” He gave his axe a quick shake.

Daisy chattered nervously and hid behind the monitors of the Slayer’s gaming set up.

In a flash of orange light his wolf appeared. Haru sprinted towards his owner and tackled him to the floor, licking his face and wagging his tail in absolute joy.

Now that the Slayer wasn’t being ruthlessly hunted by the creature, he could appreciate the wolf’s fluffy fur coat and the way its tail wagged ever so happily. He paused and looked around for his own lovely little demon.

Daisy was perched on his desk, hiding and growling low and menacingly.

The marauder practically was giggling as Haru nibbled at his armor. “Aww I missed you too little man. You wanna meet the Slayer? Huh lil man?”

Haru whipped his head around in an unnatural motion. Slowly he began snarling as he turned to face the Slayer. In all aspects, he looked satanic, his face twisted in a growl, saliva and foam dripping from his mouth, the bastard dog only needed devil horns and a pitchfork to complete the look.

The man backed up and readied his Doom blade for combat.

“Haru stop.” The marauder grabbed the wolf’s scruff and yanked him into his arms. He held him tightly and motioned the Slayer to come closer. “He doesn’t bite.”

Shaking his head, the Slayer lingered back. He wasn’t an expert on dogs but the creature looked like it would bite.

Between Daisy's and Haru’s growling the whole room sounded like a den of wolves. It set the Slayer on edge and threatened to tip him over. He activated the Doom blade and dragged it across the workshop table, an ear splitting “nails on a chalkboard” type noise echoed into their ears. Everyone shut up and let the DoomSlayer think for a moment.

His first line of action was grabbing Daisy out from behind the monitor and hugging her to his chest. She gazed up into his face, still fully adorned in his helmet. ‘She needs armor. Vega start the printer and make some.’

Vega turned down the music, “Of course sir.”

‘And you...’ the Slayer allowed Daisy to leap out of his arms and knelt down beside the marauder, who was still on the floor hugging Haru tight. ‘Does the dog actually not bite?’

“Probably.” The marauder looked down at his beastly friend unsure. “Here let him sniff your hand.”

The Slayer cast a nervous glance at the marauder and hesitantly extended his hand into the vicinity of the beast’s wrath.

The wolf sniffed the man’s hand and relaxed in the marauder’s arms. Then, he began licking the man’s hands with ferocity.

“Haru, what are you doing?” The marauder let go of his precious lil man, allowing him free range.

Haru simply ignored the demon and continued licking the hand. Then, he growled and tried to bite the Slayer.

The man recoiled too fast for the wolf and reached for his shotgun on the workbench. Rage coiled through his body, but he contained it for the marauder’s sake.

The marauder grabbed Haru, “No! Bad Haru! What the hell was that?”

Haru snarled right into his face. What was his owner doing? The Slayer, their mortal enemy, was RIGHT there! Haru knew he could take him. Had the marauder gone soft?

“Listen.” The demon pulled Haru onto his lap and patted his head, “The Slayer isn’t our foe anymore. So you definitely can’t try and rip his throat out, ok?”

The wolf blinked, completely dumbfounded by what was happening to his dear owner and friend. He turned to face the now armed Slayer who’s finger rested near the trigger of his super shotgun. Rage turned to the realization that he should apologize. Whining and wriggling out of the marauder’s arms, he padded over to the Slayer with his tail between his legs and, in the ultimate act of submission, rolled over and exposed his belly to the hulking armored man.

The man leaned down and scratched the wolf’s chest. He seemed to greatly accept the act of submission. A rumble of joy echoed through his chest.

The marauder smiled at his friends getting along, “Good boy Haru!”

Haru was still confused as to why he wasn’t ripping apart the Slayer on the command of his owner, but he shrugged it off and submitted... for now.

The Slayer held up a note to Vega, ‘How long till Daisy’s armor is made?’

“I estimate one hour. You will have to wait until it’s completed before you leave. I do not recommend allowing Daisy to go unarmored.” He tried to squash the feeling of joy that the Slayer would be out of harm’s way for a while longer. He shouldn’t think so selfishly.

‘We have time to rest and get ready then.’

The marauder whistled and immediately Haru disappeared in a flash of orange light. The Slayer was slightly unnerved by the fact that he could simply make the wolf disappear. The last flecks of orange sparks floated to the ground and dissolved.

Daisy chirped and scurried over, sniffing the ground and trying to figure out where the hell Haru went. Letting out a low growl, she scratched at the ground with her blades. Haru was right there ten seconds ago. Where did he go? She ran around the room sticking her head in every crevice to find the wolf.

The marauder clutched his axe close and chuckled at Daisy’s panicked screeches. “Daisy, Haru rests in the axe.” He held it out to her, “he’s fine, just sleeping.”

She ran over and gave the axe a sniff. Despite working closely with the marauder as his messenger, she never saw where Haru actually disappeared to. It calmed her to know he was safe and she stopped going crazy.

While the marauder admired his axe and took a few test swings in the air in the room, The Slayer scooped Daisy up and put her on the couch, putting on an action film to keep her distracted. She was immediately focused on the explosions and gunfights. The Slayer wrapped a blanket around her and patted her armored head. She purred and chirped with glee.

Chapter 16: As Subtle as a Freight Train

After the marauder had gotten out all his feverish excitement over the axe, the Slayer got up from the move and held up a note ‘I want to talk.’ He walked towards the bedroom.

The marauder tried not to let himself be wracked by nerves and he followed, as the Slayer closed the door he spoke, “You can trust me with the axe. I wouldn’t dare hurt you.”

The Slayer just looked at him with an emotion he couldn’t read, ‘That’s not what I wanted to talk about.’

They sat down on the curved window seat in silence for a few moments. The Slayer was trying to figure out how to say everything he wanted to, but had his thoughts interrupted by the demon.

The marauder’s forehead wrinkled in concern, “Are you kicking me out?”

‘No.’ The Slayer shook his head, reaching out and touching the demon's shoulder to comfort him. He couldn’t imagine not living with the marauder. He let out a long sigh as he wrote, ‘I don’t know how to say it.’ He simply wanted to ask the demon if he meant what he said while he was loopy, but every time his pen touched the paper he froze. He had never been so nervous in his whole life, yet he wanted to ask now so they were both fully aware of the other’s thoughts before they went on a mission. He fiddled with his own for a while longer and bit at the end of it feeling the increasing pressure of the demon’s gaze.

“Can I tell you something?” The marauder looked down nervously at the man. “I think I have feelings for you. When the fortress was freezing and we laid in bed together. I realized I was falling for you. That’s why I went and slept on the floor.” He actually looked scared and a flash of fear went across his face, “If you don’t feel the same I can go live down in the hull, you’ll never see me I swear.”

The Slayer cracked a grin under his helmet and much to the marauder’s surprise he wrote out, ‘You already told me.’

“What?! When?!” His face was a mixture of confusion and panic before he put his head in his hands, “Fuck, when I was high!”

‘Yeah.’ The Slayer nodded looking up at him. ‘You then told me to not tell the Slayer.’

He shook his head and snorted at his own stupidity, his face was red as a tomato and he gave up trying to hide it. “I can’t believe I revealed it like that. How bad was it?”

‘You basically said what you just said. You liked me.’ Even saying that one phrase made the Slayer heart skip a beat.

The marauder paused and took a deep breath, “So what do you think about all this?” He waited a moment and saw the Slayer hesitating with his pen hovering above the notebook, “I don’t expect you to like me back. I hoped that- well- I mean just-“ He took another breath as the realization that the man hadn’t said anything in a while was probably a good indication of his disinterest, “I’ll do whatever you want since you don’t feel the same. I can go down in the hull right now, just don’t send me back.” The demon looked ready to bolt down to the hull and hide, he couldn’t make eye contact and was sitting so stiff and rigid he was more like a steel beam than a being made of flesh.

The Slayer reached into one of the pockets on his tool belt and placed a note into the demon’s hand that he had pre-written, ‘I feel the same way about you. I like you.’

The marauder looked down at him, completely slack jawed with shock. He had convinced himself the Slayer would absolutely despise him or kick him out or kill him, he had never thought this could be an outcome. “Really? But I’m a demon. How could you like me?” He shook his head overwhelmed, “That sort of goes against your whole thing!”

‘How could I have made the decision to have you in the fortress then? There are exceptions to everything I suppose.’ The Slayer laid back against the window seat.

The marauder nodded and leaned back next to the man. Neither one talked or touched each other. There was still an unbroken barrier between them, but cracks had begun to form in both of their resolves.

The marauder felt like a giant crushing weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He felt light and happy and nearly floating when he heard the Slayer liked him back. The marauder was staring at the floor still thinking about the Slayer’s words, he was willing to make an exception on his eons long vow of slaughter, and be with the marauder.

They sat, a thousand thoughts running through their heads, both nearly emotionally exhausted from all their confessing.

Their hands brushed against each other’s. They both slowly but surely intertwined their armored fingers, but beyond that neither one was sure of what to do. They were the definition of the unexpected, an oddity, a wrinkle in the fabric of the universe.

It was almost uncomfortable and informal the way they sat. They couldn't even feel the warmth of each other’s flesh through the thick metal armor. If they weren’t holding hands they would have looked like two strangers sitting by one another. Love was still far too much of a big scary word to say. Each of them would rather walk on glass than hear that word so soon.

The Slayer broke the touch first, and pulled his notebook back out, ‘I’m not very good at any of this stuff.’ He was now slightly less stunned as a human being as now he had learnt to recognize his emotions. He still had no idea what to do with them.

The marauder put his hands in his lap, smiled over at the man, “I don’t think anyone is.” He let his eyes wander over the heavily armored man, “You just have to take it slow and see what happens.”

They were interrupted by Vega chiming into the room. “Daisy’s armor is printed and I’m readying the portal now.”

The Slayer nodded, not moving until he heard Vega disconnect from the room. He reached over and gave the demon’s hand a quick squeeze before heading out into the workshop.

The marauder quickly grabbed all the sweet notes the Slayer had written off the window seat. looking down at the notes held carefully in his palms, he made a little vow to protect them. If Samuel found them he would pester the Slayer to no end. He opened one of the pouches on his belt. He tucked away all the things the Slayer had said, and then left the room.

Chapter 17: Back to Hell II

The Slayer hurried over to the workbench. Bits and pieces of armor were scattered everywhere. It was an unorganized mess of 3D printed parts to the marauder, but the Slayer knew immediately what pieces went together and in a half hour it was completed.

Daisy excitedly ran over to the armor and was chirping happily. The man had to pin her squirming body down and hold her in place to suit her up in the armor. It was only a dull gray color due to the lack of a paint job.

The marauder was still confused by the hidden clips and magnets that held the armor together even after the Slayer had tried to explain three times. In his mind buckles were and always would be superior and sexier. He couldn’t stop casting glances over at the man, infatuated with him.

He could tell the Slayer was catching them out of the corner of his eye by the way he blushed and occasionally fumbled with the clips and tabs.

Finally the last magnet clip went into place and Daisy leapt off the workbench and sprinted towards the main room, whining at Vega to open up the portal on the deck.

They both followed her, with the same vigor in their steps. The Slayer had his full arsenal, minus the combat shotgun Daisy was using, hidden in the pocket dimension on his belt. The marauder had his axe swung over his shoulder and was walking with enough swagger to fight god.

Vega chimed down from the ceiling as the portal opened, “This isn’t a vital mission but there are still some tasks to complete. First and foremost, remove all demonic corruption. Second, search the area for any signs of life. Finally, I may have spotted a supermarket on satellite images. We would be able to restock the supplies.”

The trio nodded and began walking towards the portal. The marauder stepped through first, and the Slayer followed him through a second after, right alongside Daisy. The uncomfortable pulling sensation of the portal threatened to make the Slayer lose his lunch. After a few moments, they were through.

The landscape looked like any other hell ravaged city. It seemed to have avoided the brunt of the invasion for a few intact buildings still stood. Luckily no giant creepy tentacles or gore nests.

The demons seemed to relax in the horrible rotting heat that rolled off the piles of flaming rubble. The Slayer noticed and made a mental note to crank up the heat in the fortress for them. The man walked over to the marauder and handed him a note, ‘I won’t be able to speak with you while I’m fighting.’

“Yeah, I was worrying about that. You’ll be able to use hand signals like ‘come here’ and stuff though.”

The Slayer nodded and they walked behind the extremely excited and armored Daisy who was attempting to balance her shotgun in her grip.

She chirped happily and walked up a set of stairs that led into a building. As soon as she reached the top step, she looked over her shoulder and another gargoyle tackled her, shoving her out of view.

The Slayer broke out in a frantic sprint. Reaching the top of the stairs, he rounded the corner clutching his heavy cannon and saw Daisy simply tenderly sniffing the other gargoyle’s face. The marauder ran after close behind. “Is she ok-“

The two made chirps and clicks back and forth to each other and clinked their mandibles together. Daisy had a significant height difference over the newcomer and her gray armor made her tower over him entirely.

The marauder leaned over, “I think the gargoyle is a male. They tend to be smaller than the females.”

The angry expression under his helmet faded when he heard the marauder’s voice. He nodded and stared at the two, not sure if he should intervene. If Daisy didn’t want to kill her own kind he wouldn’t force her, that would be sick and twisted beyond what he could ever do, but he’d still have to kill gargoyles. His worrying was interrupted by Daisy pulling away from the male and staring at the Slayer. Then, she pointed down a hallway of a building, wiggling her blade.

“You want us to go?” The marauder gave Daisy a confused look.

Daisy darted forwards, flipped her helmet up, and nipped at his ankles.

He tried to smack the little demon away, “Fine you little bastard demon we will leave you alone. Come on.” The both continued along, walking along the hallways until they were a few rooms away.

‘That was weird.’

“She bit my ankles.” The marauder leaned up against the wall and took his boots off, examining his ankles.

‘You have three inch thick armor protecting your ankles. I’m sure she didn’t hurt you.’

“Well it was mostly scary, having her charge at me like that. Why would she attack me?” He put his boot back on once he checked there was no broken skin.

They waited for a while until they got bored. “Should we head out and leave her behind or stay and wait?”

‘We’ll head out, but we won’t go too far.’ The man patted the demon’s shoulder and walked out of the room, wandering around a bit before he found an exit that took them to the outside. The Slayer took out his double barreled shotgun and loaded it, snapping it together with a satisfying ‘click.’

The ground was dotted with demons, and the half destroyed infrastructure of a parking garage above them acted as a wonderful high ground. The Slayer grinned, this really would be a piece of cake. It was like a fodder arena. A revenant and some mancubi were the only truly hard demons milling about in the vicinity.

Charging towards the demon with the marauder by his side, his heart thrummed with happiness. They snuck and crawled their way into the second story of the parking garage. The marauder went to leap down into the fray but was stopped by the man with a firm outstretched arm. In a smooth motion that had been perfected by his decades of fighting, he reached down to his side, summoned his heavy cannon again, and kept the precision bolt mod on it. He knelt down to steady his arms. Aiming down the sights, he took out the arm cannons on the mancubi and the shoulder rockets on the revenant.

The demons screeched and panicked at the fiery lead raining down from above, peppering their weak spots with wounds. The revenant let out an unholy screech and pointed an accusing claw at the Slayer perched in the concrete ruins above. The demons swarmed below the Slayer in such numbers that mancubi began accidentally trampling smaller zombies that got underfoot in an attempt to get to their hated foe.

“Oh, clever.” The demon stared down at his lover in fear and awe as he learned the tricks to the man’s morbid trade.

The man nodded and once again stopped the marauder from his charge forth. Immediately, he shot an ice bomb; then he paused for only a second to put away his heavy cannon and replace it with his super shotgun. Tossing frag grenades into the icy fray, he leaped down to the floor and fired a few rounds into them.

The marauder jumped in after him and followed his lead, blasting gaping holes into the mancubi’s stomachs with his shotgun. Their faces twisted in horror but they remained frozen unable to move to fight back against the onslaught.

The Slayer grinned under his helmet. This was what he lived for. Absolute carnage and slaughter.

The horde of demons, now unfrozen and half in number, howled in confusion. They didn’t understand. How and why a demon was working with the Slayer. The revenant left shook its head, pointed its bony hand at the marauder, and let out an accusing screech.

The marauder howled like a berserker and charged at the fray, axe swinging and heart pounding. He hacked the revenant to pieces, forcing the argent blade to glide through bone as if it were butter. Giving his axe a shake, he summoned Haru to his side. “Haru take care of the imps!”

The wolf howled and charged after the poor dozen or so demons that were frozen in fear.

Only one mancubus remained, but the hulking beast was pissed. The creature was easily a few heads taller than an average mancubus. The pulsing, oozing heart that was exposed by its chest began glowing. It pointed its arm cannons at both the Slayer and marauder, releasing a wave of hell fire upon the two.

Dodging the flames by leaping in the air like a damn ballerina, the Slayer landed on his feet and charged the beast. In one beautiful sweeping arc of his Doomblade, he emptied the guts of the demon onto the floor and all over himself. Normal guts were nasty, but lord pray for the poor soul that got mancubus guts on them. They boiled and stunk worse than anything the mortal mind could imagine.

The marauder charged over to congratulate the Slayer on their victory, but instead he stopped dead, “Oh god, you stink!”

The Slayer held his arms out and tried to shake the goo off his armor. Looking up at the marauder, he silently pleaded for help. Most of the time it took hours for him to clean dried mancubus off his armor and even longer for Vega to clean up the fortress when he trailed through it to get to his shower.

Haru bounded over to him, tail wagging, and began licking the gore off his armor.

The Slayer shook his head and backed up not wanting to be bit again.

Before Haru could even get one more lick in he dissolved into a pile of orange sparks.

“Looks like he ran out of energy. We’ll have to wait to summon him again.” He sighed and patted his axe, “Good job Haru. I’ll miss you. Rest up.” After he finished speaking to Haru, he spotted a fire hydrant half buried in the rubble and looked at the Slayer with a face that could only be described as complete and total smugness, “I have an idea, you stinky bastard.” He pointed and made the Slayer stand in front of it. Raising his axe above his head like an executioner, he cut off the side of the hydrant, blasting the man with a jet of water that shot him across the room.

The man landed rather violently on the ground with an “oomph” noise, but luckily he was somewhat clean. The worst of the goo was in a puddle on the floor at least it wasn’t still on him.

“Ta da!” The marauder stretched out his arms and bowed to the Slayer before walking over to help him up, which the man gladly accepted.

Daisy came scurrying down from the ceiling with the small male trailing her. She obediently sat at the Slayer’s feet, firmly grasping the combat shotgun in her armored blades.

The marauder rolled his eyes, “Daisy you’re like a blister, showing up after all the hard work.” He motioned to the carnage around them.

The Slayer made a face and wrote out a note, ‘Another demon?’

“He’s cute and tiny. Let’s keep him for her sake.” The marauder grinned at the Slayer, “She’s in love! Look how much she cherishes the little man!” He continued to ramble on about love and all the beautiful aspects of it. Until he wasn’t sure if he was talking about Daisy anymore.

The Slayer looked up and saw the two lean in for what he supposed was a kiss. The marauder was right; it was incredibly cute an adorable to see Daisy so tender and loving-

Daisy flipped her helmet up, opened her jaws, and snapped them shut on the males head, ripping it off in one pull of her muscled neck. His body thrashed around wildly for a second before falling limp.

The marauder stopped his tender musings about love and his jaw hit the floor.

The Slayer just stared at Daisy. He was a brutal person but holy shit Daisy.

She swallowed the entire head, chipping happily and bounding over to the males.

The marauder was horrified at the bloodbath he had just seen. “Daisyyy you can’t eat people!”

The Slayer started laughing so hard it fogged up his visor. ‘We are here to kill demons. Daisy is just doing her job.’

“B-b-but!” He didn’t know how to counter. They were only on earth to kill demons. Throwing his hands up in the air, he accepted defeat, “Alright, fine!”

Suddenly, the Slayer whirled around and loaded two shells into his shotgun. Every fiber of his body went rigid as he stared at one of the piles of rubble.

There was a single drawn out roar as a pinky came crashing through the rubble, charging head first towards the man. Without a flinch of fear, the man lowered his head, charging the beast. At the very last second, he punched the side of its head. The metal fist smashing against bone made a sickening “Thunk” noise.

The pinky gave the man a dazed look and fell down on its side, dead.

Without missing a beat, the marauder clapped his hands together and walked over to his lover, who was dripping with exploded pinky brains and looking around for another fire hydrant, “Ooh dinner! I could make you pinky now.”

Shuffling in her armor, Daisy grumbled at the marauder who, in her opinion, was being quite hypocritical. So she can’t eat demons but they can? Meat was meat. She hissed at the demon.

Despite the disgust at eating what felt only slightly more clean than roadkill, the Slayer listened to the two argue and began hacking the demon to manageable pieces. He tied a leg and a chunk of breast meat to his back. Then, while the marauder explained the superior art of “sautéing“ to an angry Daisy, he tied the other leg and a chunk of tail meat to the demon’s back.

Daisy finally ceded when the marauder agreed to give her a fair share of the meat.

‘Let’s head to the supermarket. We’ll need some stuff to cook this.’ The Slayer tried to ignore the strange feeling of meat making his armor slowly get even wetter with blood. He wasn’t sure if it was possible to make such a foul meat taste good but he was willing to give it a try. It felt nice to do something as domestic and simple as going grocery shopping for a change.

Notes:

Daisy x random male gargoyle is the real OTP here.

Chapter 18: A Proud Member of r/CableManagement

It was cold in the depths of the fortress despite the heating cores running at full blast. Samuel couldn’t feel the cold, but he knew it was there. In a desperate attempt to not panic, he tried imaging the cold. With the new sensors on his body he might be able to feel it, of course it depended on how well the full transfer went.

There was an uncomfortably large possibility that he would lose memories, get trapped in a limbo, or even die. Vega was a good AI but he couldn’t do anything to help Samuel now.

Suddenly, Vega chimed into the room, startling the doctor out of his thoughts. “They have just left on their mission. Are you ready?”

He didn’t respond. Of course he wasn’t ready; he'd never be ready for a transfer. He had already done this once before when he transferred out of his cancer riddled body into his original mech, but it still didn’t make this any easier.

“Are you rea-“

“What’s the chance I die or get stuck?” He hated this half assed operation in the hull of the fortress. It was dangerous and irresponsible in every way.

“Sir I don’t think that’s a good thing to discuss-“

He cut Vega off again much to the AI’s dismay, “Tell me what the chances are.”

“There is a 40% for memory loss, a 20% chance of getting stuck in limbo, and a 5% chance of death.”

“So there’s a very likely chance that we are going to run into an issue.” He debated if it was even worth doing this. The Slayer would need his help with the icon of sin. Vega needed a set of boots on the ground since he would be in Urdak. This was necessary but risky. “Light me up. Do it right now before I change my mind.”

“Initiating swap protocols.” The processors in the fortress came to life. Far above them Vega’s console had tender arcs of electricity dance over the metal plating.

With a loud rumbling sigh, Samuel's consciousness immediately felt drowsy, and he drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

Vega amped up the power, making the lights dim and electricity coat the walls in its sparks. He refused to let himself worry about his creator. Samuel always found a way to weasel out of tight situations; this, he tried to tell himself, was no different.

The lights on the body lit up, first, a warm blinking orange and then, their iconic blue.

Finally, an awkward silence settled over the fortress. Vega spoke timidly, “Sir can you hear-“

The body folded in on itself and began seizing. Every servo fired off rapidly in different directions each time. Samuel tired speaking but an awful mechanical grating noise was all he could produce.

“It’s working,” Vega monitored the data flying in his face, “You are fine.”

Samuel would have scoffed if it didn’t feel like every nerve in his new body was turning to glass. It was very much not fine. He couldn’t move other than his near constant seizures; he couldn’t feel anything but pain. His servos were twisting in ways he was sure would have snapped him in half, and with the newly installed nervous system he got to enjoy the feeling of every agonizing second.

The only thing he had control of was the horrific grating that replaced his voice. All he could do was make the awful noise over and over again to Vega. He wasn’t even saying “help me” or “it hurts” he was merely making noise to have some feeling of control over the situation

In an instant it was over. The noises stopped, body slumped down into a peaceful position on the table, and the electricity in the fortress slowly dissipated. Samuel slowly sat up now in full control, now completely one with the body.

“How are you feeling Samuel?” Vega worriedly ran over the logs from the transfer. It seemed like it had been successful, nothing too out of the ordinary.

His head lifted up weakly as though he struggled to stay awake. “I feel nauseous.”

“With your new and improved nervous system that is to be expected. You’ll be able to feel mostly everything a human can.” Vega felt pity for the man. “It will pass soon.”

He laid down for a few minutes, the sensory overload taxing his brain. Even merely laying down, the feel of the cold metal on his back and a vent overhead blowing cool air onto his face was enough to give him a throbbing migraine. Vega’s voice pierced through the veil of pain, distracting him.

“Would me talking you through the care and upkeep of the new body help?”

He thought about it for a moment then nodded. After all, it couldn't hurt, could it?

Vega started rambling, “You’ve been outfitted with an artificial nervous system that uses central and peripheral nerves of a Hell Knight as wiring, you will have to eat high fat foods to maintain the durability of the myelin sheaths, and extend their longevity.”

Samuel interrupted, “It’s going to be weird having a mouth again. I’m glad it’s hidden under my faceplate. It looks hideous.”

“It’s not hideous, it’s just its design was a bit rushed.” Under his iconic white faceplate Vega installed a tiny rectangular slit, it made his under-face look rather stupid but it served its purpose.

He sat up and began undoing wires and cords that had connected the body to various machines for diagnostics. He was touched that Vega was trying to make him feel better about having a big ugly rectangle in his face.

“Can you walk?” Vega watched one by one as the machines flatlined as he unplugged them. It made him jump with fear seeing the flatline. He’d never get used to that.

Patting his thighs, he made an awkward metal clang echo around the room, “Something is mucking up the spinal connection to my legs but we can give it a shot.” Scooting off the table, he used it as a support to walk a few shaky steps.

Vega reviewed the stream of data from the few steps. “There’s no interference in the connection. Perhaps, since it’s not your original legs, it will require you to relearn how to walk?”

He seemed genuinely upset, “Like I’m some kind of invalid?!” He slammed his metal palms into the table and took a few more steps. “This will not stop anything!”

Vega watched him struggle around the table a few times. It was sad and awkward to watch, like seeing an obese goldfish that couldn’t swim. Samuel hated to feel weak; he knew that. “Sir, take it nice and easy, let's not do anything rash.”

Oh course, Samuel was too busy thinking about his next rash plan to listen to Vega, “I’m going to walk around the entire fortress!” With sheer determination, he let go of the table and staggered towards the stairs that led to the upper levels.

Vega had to admit that he was progressing quickly. Most noticeably, the severe shaking was gone. “What if the Slayer returns and sees you?”

He yelled out, “Fuck the Slayer!” as he began his half-crawling, half-walking struggle up the stairs.

“You are going to get your brand new ass kicked,” Vega sighed but didn’t dare stop the man and his crusade to reach the top of the stairs. Sometimes, his will rivaled even the Slayer’s own strength. The movements were jerky and mechanical but at least he had his balance back.

After about thirty minutes of climbing stairs and stumbling through seemingly infinite hallways, he reached the kitchen. Quickly grabbing a few crackers lying out on the table, he life’s up his face plate, and sloppily stuffed them into the slot under his face plate, his eyes betraying his hands and causing him to look like even more of a clumsy fool.

“What are you doing?” Vega was concerned.

“My hands are shaky.” He clicked the plate back into place. “I can’t believe I have to relearn basic tasks. This is unacceptable.”

“Many have done it before you and many will do it after. There are several medical issues that can cause people to go through the relearning and rehabilitation process, do not see it as a badge of shame, I certainly am proud of you.” Vega hoped the man listened to his words, he meant them from the bottom of his heart.

He hung his head and stood up again, “Vega, are they coming home soon?”

Vega looked at their progress, “They haven’t given me the ping they reached the supermarket yet, so no.”

Samuel held his hands out in front of him and flexed his fingers. “I’m able to walk well currently, but my hand to eye coordination is still... imperfect.” He said the word like it would destroy him.

“I have something that might help.” Vega powered up a cleaning bot and watched as Samuel followed it. The bot led him down into a new part of the hull of the ship all while he asked where they were going a hundred times. It opened a small door anyone would have missed and led him in a room strewn with wires.

“Sorting a messy storage room? How demeaning.”

“What do you mean? These are the cables that run the ship, and me. I just have very poor cable management.” Vega never had to worry about management of cables at the UAC the engineers had taken care of all of that.

“T-this... this...” the man looked around the room. Rainbow explosions of wires coated every surface. Thick black wires the size of his wrist coated the floor in chaos. It was such a mess his mind couldn’t even fathom it. “THIS IS YOUR CABLE MANAGEMENT?”

“Yes?”

“Vega, no, NO. This is hell. You have put me in hell.” He walked out of the room, trying to forget the horrors he’d seen.

“You know it will bother you for the rest of your life if you don’t clean that room up, and you still have to get better hand and eye coordination.”

Samuel tried his best to roll his eyes despite not having any and walked away but the AI had a point, “Dammit Vega...” he slowly walked back in the room and flicked a light switch on after a short struggle between his hands and eyes of where the damn thing was. The mess looked even worse, if that was possible, in the light. “Ok fine I’m gonna do this.” He grabbed a bundle of wires and began untangling them.

The next hour was absolute hell of following wires out of one knot and into another; there was no rhyme or reason to the chaotic order. Samuel was ready to rip his nonexistent hair out only an hour in. He had made some progress in the smaller tangles of wires but the larger ones remained untouched.

Moving a pile of wires off to the side, he was hit with a blast of ice cold air from a vent. At first he was annoyed at the air blowing in his face, but then he realized he could feel the cold. Every metal plate, wire, and rubber covering felt cold. He felt alive.

Vega was startled out of his endless data surfing through less than upstanding websites by a ‘thunk’ noise. He chimed into the room only to see Samuel pressing his metal face against a vent. Tentatively, he asked, “Are you ok, sir?”

Not moving his face an inch away from the vent, he nodded, “I’ve never been better, Vega.”

“The sensors are working well?”

“Yes.” Samuel was absolutely lost in the feeling of the cold. He hadn’t felt anything physical since his human body. In his old body he had decided against sensors since he deemed them too ‘human.’ Just now, he was realizing how much he had starved his body and mind, how he had robbed basic needs from himself in order to seem more intimidating, and how stupid it all had been.

Vega just watched the robot with his arms and legs sprawled across the floor, face mashed into a vent, and blue light fading to a warm orange. “I’m glad this worked out for you. I just hope the Slayer enjoys your physical form as much as you do.”

Chapter 19: Hey Whiskey Man

The doors to the supermarket tried to close again and again; each time they were met with a dead body blocking their reunion. Smoke and embers whisked past the blown out windows. Only a single letter on its roof sign, the ‘S’ of whatever the name once was, still flickered with electricity.

It was a grim sight to the Slayer’s eyes and it only made rage grow in his chest. He had to take this fight to the demons. He pressed a button on the underside of his helmet to let Vega know they had reached their destination.

His violent thoughts were interrupted by Daisy whining to be picked up. She had put on puppy dog eyes so with a sigh he was forced to scoop up his little demon.

The marauder complained, “Let's go inside before we get our asses chapped by the flames of hell.”

Daisy leapt out of the Slayer’s arms, hit the ground with a thud, and walked beside him. Waves of heat distorted the three figures as they approached the supermarket.

“I wonder if there will be anything edible still in there.” The marauder stepped over the dead body stuck in the entrance and entered the store.

The shelves were tipped over and items were shredded and scattered everywhere. It looked like a horde of imps ransacked the store and judging by the lacerations on the body that probably wasn’t too far off.

The Slayer was pissed and kicked a shredded can of rotting goo away. ‘Now we won’t have anything to cook the meat.’ He flexed his fingers into fists. He couldn’t even get a simple domestic pleasure like grocery shopping without demons fucking it up.

Daisy scurried around the store trying to find something somewhat edible.

They both stood side by side. The dreaded feeling and emotions the Slayer had been smacking down since he talked with the marauder were starting to rise up again. He reached out and brushed his hand against the demon’s.

The demon took it and swung his arm forwards and back, looking over at the man. “We could still cook it without seasoning; it just won’t taste as good.”

The man grumbled, at that. ‘I want it done your way, the good way.’

Daisy came bounding back to the two of them screeching and making a hell of a racket. She leapt up and down and demanded they follow her. Then, she rolled an intact can of food towards their feed.

‘Where did you find that?!’ The Slayer’s mood immediately changed. Finally something wasn’t ruined by the demons.

She bolted, leading them to the back of the store and dove into a hole in the floor.

In an excited rush, the Slayer followed her into the hole and helped the marauder down. ‘It’s a storage room, it looks like the demons didn’t touch it.’

There were shelves with rows and rows of intact jars and bags of chips. There were even cans of vegetables and fruits that were still somewhat fresh.

“Vega open up the portal!” He turned to the Slayer, “We’ll just toss what we want into it.”

He gave the demon a thumbs up at the smart thinking.

They ran through the aisles like kids in a candy store. Sheer chaos broke out between the three as soon as the portal was opened. It was as if time moved in slow motion. Chips, cans, boxes, and everything that was edible was flying through the air into the portal.

The chaos continued until the marauder stopped and held up a pack of curious white orbs. “Are these some kind of eggs?”

The Slayer stopped throwing boxes of cereal into the portal and walked over to the demon, ‘No, they are ping pong balls, but I’m not sure what they are doing in a grocery store. This doesn’t seem to be a store only for food though.’ He looked around at some of the clothes and various pieces of furniture that were being stored down here.

“What’s a-“ he was cut off by the Slayer throwing one of the plastic orbs at his head. It made a satisfying noise as it bounced off his horn. It took only a second for him to fire one back at his attacker.

The two idiots were acting like fools, throwing ping pong balls at each other. Daisy was screeching and trying to attack the bouncing ping pong balls.

The Slayer untied the pinky meat from his back, grabbed a handful of ping pong balls, and leaped into the air, pelting the demon with the plastic.

As soon as his feet hit the floor the demon charged him, wrestling him to the ground.

Daisy ran over biting at both of them trying to break up the play fighting.

The Slayer realized his mistake of underestimating the marauder and tried to squirm away from him. A playful but hard jab to the spleen with his elbow took the marauder down.

The demon flopped on the floor wheezing and laughing from the exertion, his half nose whistling. “You win!”

He gave a friendly punch to the demon’s arm and helped the marauder to his feet. ‘We got all the food we could ever want, what else do you wanna get?’

“Ooh could we get some booze?” He dusted himself off and looked around trying to figure out what aisle it was in.

‘I guess. I’ve never had any in my whole life.’

He clapped the man on his shoulder, an excited look in his eyes, “That changes tonight! We’ll eat pinky and drink some delicious wine.”

They wandered around looking in the shelves, crates, and fridges, and everywhere else they could think of.

The man ducked behind a counter and, to his surprise, found quite a few bottles of wine and liquor. He grinned and reached towards them, knocking on the counter alerting the demon to his find.

They were covered in a thick encasement of reddish mold, it was squishy to the touch and felt slimy, like if someone drooled on shag carpeting, but the wine and booze inside still looked ok-ish enough.

He pulled one of the bottles off of its slime encasement and a long trail of a clear gooey substance lingered on it, connecting it to the mold.

The marauder peered over his shoulder, his smile twisting down into a concerned frown, “That doesn’t look right.”

The man set the bottle on the counter, trying to ignore the puddle of slime that melted around it as he set it down, and wrote a note, ‘Is it rancid?’ The Slayer looked at him.

“No, booze is pretty hardy. It looks good enough inside.” The demon fished out two shot glasses from a plastic pack on a corner asle and poured a sip of whiskey into each. There were a few pieces of red mold floating in the drink but they picked them out.

They held their shots and on the count of three downed them fast.

The Slayer spat out his and wiped off his tongue, he stumbled to the counter and frantically wrote out, ‘There was mold in mine :(“

The marauder wiped off the bottle some more, cleaning off the lid where it seemed most of the mold had accumulated, “We don’t have to drink it. Maybe we should wait till we find some that’s not weird.”

‘Alcohol can’t go bad though! Gimme the bottle.’

Daisy hopped up onto the table and watched the Slayer.

He was always told that drinking was a sin. He figured it wouldn’t be too terrible and it would look impressive to the demon if he took a big sip of it. As soon as he collected his mind, he tilted his helmet up and took a huge gulp of the liquid.

The marauder’s eyes went wide and he shook his head, “You said you never drank before, you’re gonna get sick!” This idiot had just chugged half the bottle.

Immediately, it felt like he had just taken a bite of flaming swamp goo. Stumbling backwards, he wiped his mouth out and spit what was left of the nasty whiskey on the ground. He turned, clutching onto the counter, and rested his head on it.

Daisy immediately began licking his helmet and fussing over the Slayer.

The marauder gently patted the man’s back, “I don’t think you're a whiskey person. Let’s try something a little bit… tamer.”

The Slayer just groaned and agreed not to mess with the whiskey again. His mind felt fuzzy from the horrendous taste and his stomach was doing queasy flips.

They waited for the Slayer to regain his bearings and the marauder put his hand on the small of his back as he helped him through the portal.

Daisy grabbed the pinky meat the Slayer had taken off his back and dragged it along into the portal. When she got to the other side the marauder had already set the Slayer down by Vega’s console while the AI was asking what had happened.

“He’ll be fine, just drank a bit of strong whiskey.” The marauder patted the Slayer’s helmet. “Are you feeling any better?”

The Slayer looked absolutely pathetic as he leaned his head back and stretched out his legs. He weakly nodded and scribbled a note to the demon, ‘yeah a bit.’

“I’ll carry all our stuff to the kitchen.” He turned to Daisy, “Can you stay here with him?”

She nodded and scurried over to the man, flopping down on his lap and purring with glee.

The man closed his eyes, hoping that it would help him with the queasy feeling and a headache that began to throb behind his eyes. The marauder’s gentle footsteps as he carried the groceries to the kitchen along with Daisy’s loving purring as she laid her head on his lap made him drift off to sleep.

“Vega, he's still sleeping.”

“Poke him again.”

There was a loud sigh from the marauder, “I already did.”

“His face is squishy, do it again.”

The Slayer felt a clawed finger poke his cheek under his helmet and both the marauder and Vega started to giggle. Also, he could smell a strange mango scent.

“It is squishy!”

“I told you! Do it a final time, once more, THE LAST HURRAH!”

The marauder couldn’t even hold back his laughter, “Boop.” He gently curled his claw up under his helmet and touched the man’s nose with his fingertip.

The Slayer jolted up, let out a feral yell, and faked the demon out by trying to bite his finger.

The demon jumped backwards like a startled cat, “FUCK!” He leaned his weight on the closest console and put a hand over his pounding heart. “You bastard.”

The Slayer nodded his head, accepting his new title. Giving the marauder a once over, he realized the demon was wearing his clothes, a gray T-shirt that was a few sizes too small for the bulk of the demon and dark green jogging pants that actually managed to fit him. He put his arms above his head and stretched with a loud yawn.

Daisy stirred on his lap and yawned as well, stretching out her long metal mandibles. She whined as the Slayer attempted to stand up, forcing the man to scoop her up in his muscular arms and carry her around.

The marauder walked alongside the Slayer through the hallways of the fortress; he was particularly chipper, “I carried all the food to the kitchen. Vega taught me how to do dishes; I cleaned up a little bit. I even got a bath, but I did use up all your mango smelling soap stuff.”

‘I wondered why I smelt mangos. Thanks for doing all that stuff.’ The Slayer kept shooting fond glances over at the mango scented demon. He simply couldn’t help himself. ‘Wait, there was a whole bottle of that stuff, how did you use it all?’

“I got carried away just a bit. Did you know when you put the liquid soap into the water it makes bubbles?” The marauder made all sorts of elaborate hand motions as he described the ridiculous amounts of bubbles he made. “-and then I was able to put my whole head including my horns in the bubbles. It was nice but I got some in my nose.”

The Slayer just shook his head and laughed. The idea of the marauder playing with bubbles warmed his heart. He led the demon through the halls and into his bedroom. ‘I’m gonna go get a shower, can you wash Daisy off?’ He handed her to the marauder and started removing his armor.

“Yeah sure. Come here little lady.” He gently cradled the demon and followed the Slayer into the bathroom. Watching as he removed each piece of armor, tossing it down into a chute on the wall. Soon enough he was clad only in his mesh undersuit and helmet.

The man closed the shower door and moments later threw his undersuit over the frosted glass.

The marauder listened to the relaxing noise of the shower and felt the warm steam touch his skin. Even Daisy relaxed in the heat and let him take her armor off without fussing. He also tossed it in the chute and began running some warm bath water. It took a while to convince her to go into the tub and even longer to bathe the squirming little demon. The warm inviting lull of the heat threatened to make him fall asleep, but he dried Daisy off and left the bathroom to curl up on the bed with her while waiting for the Slayer.

The little demon started to get restless and bit the pillow the marauder was resting on, yanking it out from under him. She scurried off the bed before he could raise a finger.

He just grumbled and grabbed the other pillow on the bed. Before he could even relax she stole that pillow as well. “Daisy, what are you doing?”

The demon flapped her wings and scurried up into a vent in the ceiling, taking both pillows along with her.

The Slayer walked out of the bathroom in a cloud of steam; he had a while fluffy towel wrapped around his waist and a nice clean helmet. Sitting down on the bed he gently dragged his fingertips across the sheets reaching for the demon’s hand, making the fabric bunch up in tiny wrinkles like ripples in a pond.

The demon let out a contented noise, grabbing the Slayer’s hand, still warm and soft from the heat of the shower, “Would you like some dinner?”

The man let go and scribbled out a note, ‘We don’t have to do it tonight. You’ve already done so much while I slept.’

“Oh I’m fine. How are you after that whiskey? I’m sorry that was my fault for giving you something so strong.” He sat up and tapped his fingers against the man’s bicep.

‘My mouth still burns a bit but my head and stomach don’t feel weird anymore. I drank way too much of it cause I figured it wouldn’t be too bad.’ He touched the demon’s hand as he did and turned to face him. ‘I have a stupid question.’

“Well, hit me with it.” The marauder gave him a grin and wrapped an arm around his shoulder.

The Slayer leaned into the touch but resisted going too quickly and putting his head on the demon’s shoulder, ‘Is there a drinking age in hell?’

The demon tilted his head back and forth considering the question, “Partially but it’s not enforced since hell is basically a post apocalyptic nightmare now that this invasion has failed. There isn’t much order to anything besides the biggest cities. No one is asking for an ID slate in these times, if you can even find alcohol.”

‘What does your ID slate say? Mr. Marauder?’ He laughed at the idea of hell having any form of bureaucracy or a hellish form of a DMV.

“It has my name on it.” The demon seemed a bit uncomfortable, “I don’t like it very much.”

The man nodded, respecting his space, ‘I don’t even know my name anymore. It’s not in any of the memories I have about my family.’ He still wasn’t sure if he was sad for that loss of humanity or happy to be completely unchained from his past life.

“That’s ironic, the one thing I do remember is my name, and a few nasty things.” He rubbed the man’s shoulder and bicep, “I’m almost too tired to eat.”

‘Same.’

Chapter 20: A Fine Cabernet Sauvignon

Notes:

Sorry for disappearing for a while just got too busy and had a creative block.

I’m back now!

I can’t promise the schedule is gonna be every week but I’ll try every other and we’ll see how it goes.

Happy 2021!

In the end they decided to sleep, the marauder snuggled under the covers and motioned for the Slayer to join him. The man gave him a little smile, ‘You’re in my spot.’

The marauder glanced over to the open side of the bed, “Oh really, is this your spot?”

The Slayer nodded, looking amused.

He chuckled and winced, “Ooh I’ve decided to take this spot over. In the name of hell.”

‘In the name of hell?’ The Slayer found himself grinning under his helmet at whatever the marauder was planning.

“Yeah, of course I’m a demon. I suppose we could wrestle for it.”

Before the marauder could say anything else the Slayer had leapt on top of him and was trying to roll him over.

The Slayer grabbed his waist and flipped him on his side. At first he was confused but realized the Slayer was spooning him. Well, trying to spoon at least. Being two feet shorter made him more of a jet pack than a spoon.

The marauder rolled over and fought off the Slayer’s attempts to get him to be the little spoon, forcing the man into submission by tickling the skin right where his neck met his helmet.

The Slayer jolted back trying to escape and was caught off guard by the marauder flipping him on his side and spooning him. The great DoomSlayer was defeated by his enemy and forced to be the little spoon. He pouted for a second then soon found himself enjoying it. He tried to wiggle free and once again take his title of the big spoon.

The marauder had anticipated such a counter attack and quickly wrapped his legs around the Slayer’s waist. He hummed triumphantly with joy and tightened his grip.

He relaxed and dug his helmeted head into the pillow. Being the little spoon wasn’t something he expected himself to enjoy, but now he was loving it. Usually he was protecting everything else, he had never been curled up surrounded by something just as big and bad as him in such a way. He scooted into the demon’s touch pressing his back firmly against his chest.

The marauder hugged the Slayer towards him tighter, desperate for the touch the man offered. Carefully he placed his head on top of the Slayer’s helmet, using him as his own personal chin warmer. He chuckled to himself, at the benefits of being the big spoon.

The Slayer listened to the rhythm of the marauder’s breath, the little whistle of his nose as he breathed, the way his muscles relaxed and he was intoxicated by it, addicted to the demon that lay beside him. He was positive his heart and will would break if he had to sleep alone again.

They struggled against sleep not wanting the moment to end, but their eyelids betrayed them and they slowly drifted off. Only awaking in the middle of the night when Daisy hopped up on the bed, curling up next to them, snuggling into the warmth.

They spent the next day relaxing and cleaning armor and as night rolled around the marauder fired up the stove.

He carefully fussed over some pinky meat sizzling on the stove. His shirt was protected by an old white apron Vega had scrounged up for him.

The Slayer had dragged a neon green bean bag, one that Vega had found for him while getting the apron, into the kitchen; he was now snuggled up in his fuzzy bunny pajamas watching the marauder, he still felt a bit sick from the whiskey, a slight pain shooting through his head every now and then. He wasn’t quite sure if that was normal, it wasn’t like he was hungover, unless he was.

Daisy was in the kitchen sniffing at the air the scent of meat too much for her to resist, and scurried over to the Marauder. She nibbled at his pant leg, begging for some of the pinky meat.

“Here just a little bit. You’ll get your fair share when it’s done, don't worry.” He plucked some of the meat out of the pan and tossed it into her gaping maw.

She happily snatched the meat out of the air and ran over to snuggle the Slayer while nibbling on her treat.

The marauder listened to Daisy’s contented purrs, clicks, and whirs as the Slayer let her rest her head in his lap and began humming a little tune. He couldn’t even describe the peace he felt in his heart at that moment. He felt as if he was being protected but also the protector; he neither felt weak nor strong. He was finally an equal. No more kissing ass to higher ranking demons and no more complicated hare brained schemes, there was only peace and balance.

The Slayer shifted in his bean bag and pulled Daisy closer. Daisy glanced up with her big yellow eyes.

When the marauder deemed the pinky ready to rest and simmer for a bit, he started looking through the cupboards for wine glasses. Surprisingly, he managed to find a few and poured some wine into one.

The Slayer glanced up from his cozy bean bag, ‘Can I have some?’

At first, he was taken aback at the Slayer still wanting to try any booze, but he nodded his head and poured a glass. “Here just a tiny little bit. This is sweet, it's not bitter like that other stuff.”

The Slayer carefully took the glass and held it with both hands like a coffee mug.

Lifting his glass up to his mouth in demonstration, the marauder took a tiny sip of the liquor. “Just like that.”

The Slayer nodded, sniffed the wine, and drank the tiniest bit of it. It wasn’t terrible, a bit strange perhaps but not terrible.

Daisy perked up and gave the glass the man held a curious sniff.

“Daisy, do you want some?” The marauder motioned to the bottle on the counter.

Before Daisy could respond, the Slayer cut her off, ‘Should you give alcohol to pets?’

“Maybe not I guess,” The marauder teased the man, “You just have to suck the fun out of everything.”

Rolling his eyes under his helmet, the Slayer got back to sipping at the wine and relaxing.

With a faint blush beginning to spread across the demon’s face, he drank the rest of his glass and poured another; then, returned to making the dinner. “Ooh it’s all done!” Carefully, he shut the stove off making sure the dial made a loud firm click, and he put the mound of pinky meat on a plate that threatened to overflow with juice.

Daisy was the first one at the table, chirping excitedly and eyeing up the meat. Her blades clacked on the table in an overjoyed rhythm.

The Slayer took his half empty wine glass with him to the table. Even he, a person who despised brainless demons like pinkies, had to admit the mere smell was absolutely amazing. His mouth watered as he too eyed up the food.

As the marauder took his apron off he gave the two a grin, “Well don’t just stare at it, dig in.”

Without the slightest hint of hesitation, Daisy grabbed a chunk of meat and ran underneath the table to enjoy it. Her jaws loudly smacked as they munched the meat.

The Slayer nodded and carefully picked up a piece of the meat between two pinched fingers. For a long time all he had eaten was rehydrated paste and crackers, this was a change but a welcome one. They had enough of this meat to last a while and that excited the man. Real food whenever he wanted it. He’d just have to ask the marauder to cook it for him. Lifting his helmet up a tiny bit, he tossed the meat in his mouth and was immediately in love with it.

It was salty and sweet like some strange twist on pork. It’s edges were crispy but tender on the inside. His whole mouth was ringing with the flavor and absolute joy of real food.

“Do you like it?” The marauder questioned through a whole mouthful of pinky.

Barely having time to make a “Mhhmm” sound the man grabbed a second piece and gobbled it down like he was starved.

Jumping up from underneath the table, Daisy snatched another large chunk and retreated.

The marauder took a deep drink of wine and smiled as he munched down more of the delicious meat.

After their long feast of wine and meat, the Slayer helped a giggling, blushing marauder down his workshop. He wasn’t fully drunk but still riding the waves of happiness from the liquor.

‘You big doofus.’ He turned the TV on and to some channel playing a comedy.

“I’m not a doofus! You’re a doofus.” The marauder flopped down on the couch, resting his back against the plushy cushions.

Sitting down between his two favorite demons, he wrapped his arm around both of them. The marauder leaned into the touch, resting his head against the Slayer helmet with a gentle “clack” of his horns meeting the metal; Daisy carefully licked his hand, nibbling on his oversized fingers.

He relaxed into the couch, petting Daisy and gently rubbing the marauder’s shoulder. They sat there a while in relaxing peace.

Vega nervously watched the Slayer, marauder, and Daisy from the ceiling; then, he turned his attention back to Samuel who was putting the finishing touches on his cable management. “Do you really, REALLY need this? Please reconsider Sir.”

He clicked the last wire into place, content with the perfectly organized room. Everything was in its place with machine precision. He looked up at the ceiling, “Vega I’m quite positive I need this. What is a lion without his mane? What is a peacock without his feathers? What is a-“

Vega cut his rambling off, “Sir your left pinky needs some oil. You are not a ‘Lion without a mane.’”

“Vega, look at it and how it sticks!” He held his left hand up and what would be his pinky finger was indeed sticking slightly instead of a smooth motion like the others.

“Then allow me to send a bot to retrieve the oil.”

“No!”

“What do you mean no? That’s the most logical solution.” Letting out a sigh, Vega didn’t know if he was going to talk any sense into this man.

“It’s not about logic,” he posed like a warrior bringing his face to look upwards, “...it’s about the principle.”

“You’re a dipshit.”

He huffed and headed to the door. His strange stumbling walk was now back to his careful precise steps, and motor control had returned to his hands. Samuel was finally back.

He made his way up the stairs and through the halls. The massive labyrinth of a ship made him lose his sense of direction a few times until finally he found the door leading to the Slayer’s workshop. Before he could carefully recollect his thoughts the door slammed open with an echoing metallic thud that could have woken the dead. He froze and peeked over at the couch. All three of the rugrats were watching the TV; both the marauder and Slayer were nice and drunk.

He hurried across the room tiptoeing to the Slayer’s workbench that was covered in high tech tools and more importantly the can of oil he needed. The couch they were sitting on was facing the Slayers toy collection, and the TV that had Vega had dropped down from the ceiling. He noticed the marauder’s hand laying on the Slayer’s thigh and gave a glare at him through his optic. He started slowly walking back towards the door.

“Did you bring the wine down?” The marauder snuggled into the Slayer’s neck, nearly catching a glimpse of the robot.

Samuel ducked behind the couch, leaning up against its fabric backing. He couldn’t help but think maybe Vega was right about sending a mod bot up.

‘Yes, but I think you’ve had plenty.’ The Slayer stroked the demon's head and leaned forwards, grabbing the bottle. ‘I’ll just have a little bit more. It is really yummy stuff. It’s bittersweet thought.’

“Nah I thought it was quite sweet, perhaps even a bit too sweet for my tastes.”

The Slayer took a long swig from the bottle, and suddenly pulled away from it and wiped his tongue.

“More mold?” The marauder gave him a concerned look.

He nodded and put the bottle down unfazed, ‘I didn’t mean it’s flavor. The next time we head out it’s gonna be after the Icon.’

The marauder sighed and turned away, “Oh no let’s not talk about this.”

‘What do you mean?’

“I don’t know. It just makes me nervous, the whole thing.” He shook his head and felt a bit of sweat dribble down his temple. The thought of death was crushing in his mind, all he could see was his own corpse blooming with red mold. He spoke softly, “What if one of us dies? What if you die?”

The Slayer sat dumbfounded, wasn’t it obvious what would happen? ‘Then you’d take care of Daisy and keep fighting.’ He felt oddly distant from the thought of death; instead, he felt warm and fuzzy at the idea of his body becoming a warm fertile patch of ground for the beautiful red mold to grow. He gave the marauder a strange look; the demon really didn’t look that good. Before he could ask what was wrong, the marauder took over the conversation.

He shook his head, “But that’s not fair! Why should you have to die for this? We could be safe up here!” His eyes had the glazed look of horror and fear. “I don’t want to become mold!”

If any other person had questioned the Slayer’s goals he would have simply ignored them or shredded them to pieces, but he carefully scooted over to the demon and patted his shoulder, ‘We couldn’t be safe up here. It’s my job to help the mold, I mean the humans.’

The marauder shook his head again, “Don’t you dare leave me.” He pulled back from the Slayer. He looked like a cornered animal, wild with fear and mouth full of hate. All his fear and insecurity took over in one bright flash of memory. He was a young adult running away from his house as a sentinel, his mother screaming on the porch, “DON’T LEAVE ME!” His desperate words echoed around the steel plates of the fortress until they sounded like a blood curdling scream.

Daisy let out a low feral hiss and snapped at the demon’s arm. She quickly scurried past the Slayer and under the man’s desk, panicking. Both of them felt... off.

‘Calm down, relax.’ The Slayer felt panic tighten around his chest and stomach. He held up his arms towards the marauder, trying to look as non-threatening as possible. Sweat began dripping down his scarred face under his helmet.

“NO!” His eyes glowed red with an emotion the Slayer had never seen before. It was fear and anger and hate all rolled into one horrifying cocktail. “I’ll stop you from going down there and being a fool, getting yourself killed.” Leaping off the couch, his hands balled into fists and he prepared to take a swing at the man.

“I’ve never let anything stop me from fighting against hell,” he cracked his knuckles and spoke as loud as he could despite the feeling like his throat was full of fluid, “Let alone another... fucking... demon.”

Out of nowhere Samuel Hayden leapt over the couch, “STOP BOTH OF YOU!”

Notes:

Update 2025: Lol I'd like to call to your attention to the Doom Eternal DLC. In the Reclaimed Earth level near the start you can find bottles of red wine labeled Marauder Cabernet Sauvignon. Doom Pet cannon??? :O

 

Chapter 21: Red Mold and Pinky Oil

Notes:

TW: Pretty graphic depictions of vomiting. (Might not wanna get a thick bowl of oatmeal and sit down to read this chapter.)

They backed off, breaking out of their confusion for a moment.

The Slayer stumbled and growled out, “S-SAMUEL!”

The robot whipped his head to face the Slayer, glaring him down with his blue optic, “Shut your damn MOUTH!” He held out his arms and looked back and forth between the two as if they were velociraptors ready to jump, “You’re both drunk sit down.”

The marauder wailed out, “I’m not fucking drunk! I can handle my liquor. I’M NOT FUCKING DRUNK!” His vision went blurry and the room tilted around till it looked like he was standing sideways. “Help, help.” He wheezed out.

The Slayer was seeing red, Samuel was the cherry on top of this massive shitstorm. The Slayer wanted to whip out his BFG and vaporize everything. He couldn’t write his hands were shaking so bad. He felt like he might just stumble over and pass out at any moment.

The marauder let out a little whimper. It felt like he was loosing control. Panic rose in his chest it felt like he was dying.

Samuel looked from man to demon, “What’s wrong with you two?” He couldn’t understand why they were acting like that.

Vega was frantic, he had activated several cooling coils in the Slayer’s helmet, desperately trying to cool his rapidly increasing body temperature, and his temper. He had never seen the Slayer full of hate before, sure rage plenty of times, but he had never seen the man want to kill more than this moment. “The mold! There was mold in the alcohol.”

Samuel turned to Vega’s nearest speaker, “I know how to fix this!”

As soon as he turned his attention away from the two they lunged at each other with a ferocity unmatched by anything.

The man swung his hands, his punches were sloppy and open fisted, but one hit the demon’s abdomen hard.

Daisy rushed up into the vents, screaming and yelling looking up at Vega to do something.

He cried out in a wail. The marauder sunk his claws into the Slayer’s fists and drew streams of blood from his scared skin. He felt Samuel grab him and yank him backwards, but he held fast onto the Slayer, who was writhing and shaking, trying to pull away.

The Slayer swung his leg and tripped the marauder as he was being pulled back, the demon crashed to the floor and let go of the Slayer. The man didn’t waste a second and tried to grab the demon’s horns, but Samuel yanked the marauder back fast enough to escape the Slayer’s grasp.

He put his mechanical foot on the man’s head and shoved him backwards, closing the bedroom door on him. His fists uselessly slammed against the metal and he begged to be let into the bedroom in loud sharp cries. The marauder seemed to calm for a second, and he wrestled the demon into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

He slowly stood, still slightly crouched in a daze. Looking up at Samuel, he nervously swallowed, “I feel awful. It’s not me.”

“Yeah well this is gonna feel awful too.” The robot pulled back his arm, balled his hand into a fist, and decked the demon right in his stomach. Quickly, he grabbed his horn and forced him to hold his head over the sink.

The marauder let out a shaky gasp and grabbed onto the robotic arm of the man. His mouth filled up with sickeningly sweet red wine. His eyes watered at how foul it was, it felt slimy and had chunks of something in it. He spat it out but more and more kept coming. Mouth full by mouth full he slowly rid his body of the disgusting liquid. He opened his eyes and looked at the sink. Huge chunks of the same bright red mold that were growing on the bottles were sitting in the sink surrounded by the wine.

Letting go of Samuel, he placed both hands on either side of the sink. His stomach twisted at the sight and he puked again. This time it was just yellowish acid.

Samuel let go of his horns as he began to violently dry heave, his body straining so hard he stood on his tip toes. He finally began to feel better. Wiping his mouth on a towel, he turned on the water, washing out his mouth and the hateful words that spewed from it. “Thanks.” He looked at the robot. “Hello by the way, Samuel, right?”

Just as he went to speak, they heard the sound of the Slayer wrenching open the bedroom door and slamming his body against the bathroom door.

Vega felt awful, there was nothing he could do, “Samuel help him! I can’t calm him down!”

He turned to the marauder, “Stay here.”

“Do you need help?”

“No, I’m an expert in wrangling this asshole.” He walked over to the door.

The Slayer slammed against the door again, shaking the frame like a scene out of a Jurassic Park movie.

Samuel opened the door fast and slammed it behind him, taking the man by surprise and wrestling him out into the workshop. He was scratching and biting at the robot, but unable to find any purchase.

Samuel tossed him off, and tried to think of any way to make this living tank of a human puke. “Vega! If I punch him he’s just gonna snap me like a twig!”

“His temperature is already running high! I’ll shut off the cooling coils in his helmet. Keep fighting him. I can tell he’s feeling nauseous.” Vega stopped the coiling coils with a pang of pity for the man, but it was for his own good.

Samuel grabbed the man and he thrashed and yelled out like a beast. He put him in a headlock, dragging him to the floor. “Breathe, relax.”

He reached up and hit the robot's face, kicking his legs wildly. Sweat was dripping off him, staining his grey shirt dark. His head hurt so bad he let out a long pained cry, tears ran down his face.

Before he could even thrash about again, it felt like something was trying to crawl up his esophagus. Lifting up his helmet, he pried Samuel off him and ran over to the nearest waste bin. Slime and disgusting chunks of mold shot out of his mouth and nose. His body trembled over the bin and finally he relaxed.

“Feel better, you prick?” Samuel wiped the man’s sweat off his own faceplate, revolting at the feeling of any biological fluid on him.

The man nodded then vomited even more. He dry heaved hard, his abdominal muscles contracting.

“There, there.” Samuel crawled over, too tired to stand up and spoke in a condescending tone, “You're gonna feel better soon.” He patted the man’s back.

He groaned and looked up from the can, “I… I hate you.”

Samuel laughed, “Yeah, yeah. You’re lucky I came up here.”

He sighed and grabbed his notebook, his mind was still swimming, but he was just able to write. ‘How the fuck are you rebuilt?’

Vega spoke from the ceiling, guilt washing over him. “It was me. I helped him rebuild his body. I wanted him to be able to take care of you when I’m stuck in Urdak, he’ll help you with the Icon of Sin…”

The Slayer glared at him, but accepted it, he trusted Vega’s judgment more than he trusted his own. He thought of the many times the robot had left him to die.

“No one is dying on my watch. Even if I have to use morally questionable means, you will be alive by the end of it.” Samuel let out a laugh, but was quickly hushed by Vega.

Suddenly the Slayer looked around, and stood, sprinting into the bathroom, he frantically opened the door to the marauder wiping his mouth out at the sink.

All the nasty stuff he had said to the poor demon… He wrapped his arms around the demon and tried desperately to beg for mercy.

The marauder leaned into the touch, savoring the tenderness, “It’s ok. I said even worse stuff.” He then turned to the sink and filled his cupped hands with the cool water. “Drink until you’ve had enough.”

The Slayer’s stomach twisted; he knew he’d have to puke again. He nodded and put his lips to the marauder’s hand gulping down the water. It felt oddly sensual and loving. His stomach immediately wretched and he vomited a long sticky string of mold into the sink. A mat of the awful foulness stuck to the roof of his mouth. He gagged and stomped his feet in agony.

The marauder grabbed his man’s face and hooked a finger into his open mouth pulling out a thin mat of mold as long as his forearm and as wide as his fist. He tossed it into the sink, and felt pale at seeing the disgusting thing himself, after a few more drinks of water the man was clear. He rubbed his back, he helped the man lay down on the floor, laying down next to him.

They both stared at the plain metal ceiling feeling like they had been hit by semi trucks.

They were interrupted by the sound of Samuel awkwardly scratching the back of his head, “Umm… So are you two an… couple?” He almost gagged on the word like it was red mold.

The Slayer rolled over and sat up, with reflexes as fast as a cat, and flipped him off. He couldn’t believe he forgot Samuel was there.

“Awww you are! Adorable.” He would roll his eyes if he had any, “You’re quite obvious about it. Do you grab his horns when he rails you?”

The Slayer was ready to leap up and beat Samuel to death with his own arm. He struggled to his feet, eliciting a deep chuckle out of Samuel, “You’re still sick you can’t catch me!”

The Slayer closed the gap between them in a second and slammed the robot into the wall.

“VEGA HELP! TRANQUILIZE HIM!” He tried to pry his body off the wall but found himself bound more tightly to it than if he had been superglued to it.

“I’m not helping you.” Vega said calmly.

“VEGA!” Samuel screamed as the man pinned his head into the wall and threatened to crush it.

“I’m watching you.” The Slayer snapped his helmet back into place and let go of the robot.

He stumbled to his feet quickly, and dusted himself off. “You should be grateful! You’d both be piles of goo if it wasn’t for me!”

The Slayer crawled back over to the marauder and flopped down next to him. ‘How come we got sick?’

“You ate the most violent fungus in hell! Have neither of you heard of the red mold?”

“No.” The marauder had his hands over his face, too tired to be invested in Samuel’s and the Slayer’s bickering. He hadn’t heard of anything about mold in wine. Of course he rarely paid attention to news of hell’s latest weapons and poisons unless they were directly related to him.

‘Never heard of it and I’ve been in hell for eons.’ The Slayer shrugged.

“It’s a pathogenic fungus, it takes over anything it touches, and it can cause hallucinations. You were basically drinking a mold solution of it, you idiots! Who sees mold floating around in something and decides to keep drinking it?”

‘Why did I try and punch the marauder then?’ He looked over at the demon feeling awful.

“It produces a ridiculous amount of an epinephrine like substance that makes you jumpy, sweaty, and angry or paranoid out of your damn mind. It eventually stops your heart.” He looked somber for a moment.

“Are we gonna be ok now?” The marauder sighed. His head throbbed in pain from all the violent wrenching. His stomach felt like it had been split open.

Samuel, ever so pretentious, nodded, “Of course, thanks to me!” He paused and waited for both of them to give some tiny “thank you’s” before turning toward the door.

The Slayer grumbled something most likely laden heavily with swears and laid face down on the floor.

As he walked out Daisy ran in, curling up next to the Slayer. The two petted her and cooed out their love for her. The marauder was so glad he didn’t give her any wine. As they pet her head their hands brushed against each other.

The demon looked so somber and sad, “I didn’t mean what I said about the humans. I’d do anything to get my family back and live with the sentinels… I understand even if I actually do hate the thought of you getting hurt.”

‘Don’t worry about what we both said. I don’t think I could ever kill you,’ he looked down, ‘or Daisy. You both mean so much to me.’

They took turns in the shower and laid down in the Slayer’s bed, sore and tired. This time they didn’t hesitate to snuggle up next to each other. The marauder spooned the smaller man, weaving his fingers into his own.

Their snuggling was interrupted by Daisy, she whimpered her spot snuggled in between them was taken.

The Slayer patted the open bed in front of him, ‘Come here little one.’

She snuggled under the covers and gave the Slayers helmet a quick lick before falling asleep.

Vega brought them medicine to soothe their stomachs, and they drifted off into sleep.

Outside the bedroom in the workshop Samuel was absolutely dumbfounded, “Vega did YOU KNOW?” He oiled up his pinky, pleased at how smoothly it moved. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.”

“Yes the marauder told the Slayer when he was high on painkillers after his horn growth. The Slayer gladly accepted his advances and I believe they are deep in courtship. Of course their biometric scans let me in on the secret long before they knew themselves.”

Samuel made a gagging noise, “I don’t want to know what ‘deep in courtship’ means thank you very much Vega.”

“Oh I don’t think they fucked yet, I don’t even think they have kissed. They are just very loving towards each other.”

“Vega I would prefer to not know those details, please!” He groaned. “I knew bringing demons up here was a bad idea. I can’t believe you let them into the bedroom together. They should at least have the door open!”

“The marauder is easily double your age; the Slayer might even be triple. I’m sure they can handle themselves.” Vega did fight the urge to laugh at Samuel for whatever reason taking the role of a big brother to the Slayer all the sudden.

Samuel muttered something under his breath. The marauder had only been up here for a few weeks. They didn’t know anything about his past, they hadn't vetted him for any diseases. What if he breaks the Slayer’s heart? What if he’s using the man to get dirt on how to defeat him, what if he was an assassin? He didn’t like the idea of the Slayer distracted from the wholesale slaughter of demons, it didn’t sit right with him, but he backed off, knowing it would be a losing, perhaps even fatal, battle if he tried to outright fight him on it. But he couldn’t help himself, “I want to talk to the marauder for a bit, make sure he’s worthy.”

“Oh lord,” Vega sighed, “If you feel that is necessary, I suppose I could allow it.”

There was a long pause as Samuel worked on his body, fixing various things.

“Thank you.”

“For what?” He looked up at the ceiling.

“Saving them.”

He huffed, “What else would I do Vega? Just let them die? I- we need them to kill the icon.” He didn’t like being associated with soft human feelings, especially feelings related to the Slayer. He started walking up to the main deck to examine the list of things to do tonight, pulling up a chair and relaxing in it, kicking up his feet on the console next to Vega’s. He looked out at the earth, it was night time on the section they were viewing, so peaceful except for the glowing red pentagrams carved into its surface.

Vega watched along with him at the little rock they were fighting so hard to protect, “Well I’ll leave you to make the software updates I’ve requested. I have a few scheduled maintenances for tonight so I’ll be offline, I expect you to behave.”

“Wait.” Samuel knew he was likely going to come up empty handed asking this question, but he wanted to ask anyway, “Do you have any photos of the Slayer’s face?”

Vega paused, running through his files, his console letting out mechanical clicks, “Of course not. That would be a violation of his privacy.”

Samuel would have rolled his eyes if cancer hadn’t turned them to mush, “Don’t lie.”

Vega should’ve just left and ran his maintenance protocol, but he was interested in what Samuel was up to, “I have three.”

“Pull them up.”

“Ok, but don’t tell him.” Vega sorted through his files, feeling like an anxious child telling a secret.

“Oh please if I told him he’d rip me to shreds, thinking I was the lair.” Samuel watched as a blurry loading hologram popped up. “So are these in your spank bank or-“

“Corpse identification images.” Vega paused once more realizing that was rather morbid, “Just in case.”

As if on a rather sad que the images finally loaded. There were three, Vega wasn’t a liar there. One of each side of his face and one head on. Rather plain and boring shots, nothing too interesting about them.

Vega watched from the ceiling, glad he didn’t reveal the fact that the Slayer’s toothbrush had special sensors to catalog his dental records, just in case his body wasn’t recognizable. The full body pictures of him in their shower cataloging every single mole and freckle, just in case… just in case. The nearly thousands of photos of the Slayer swimming, huddled over his workbench, eating, reading, petting that little gargoyle that he made sure to keep alive in that storage room after the man shot it. He had an inexplicable fear of the man being lost to humanity. Not just in the literal sense like a demon ripping him apart, but the sense that they wouldn’t know who the mysterious man who saved them actually was. He was just some angel, but he was so much more interesting. Even worse his most terrifying fear, Vega desperately wanted the man to have a proper burial, the thought of his remains being misidentified, or even worse unidentified just made his nonexistent skin crawl.

Samuel lucky pulled him out of his quickly spiraling thoughts, “Thank you for showing these to me. I kinda figured when I saw the bottom half of his face when he was vomiting exorcist style that this is what he’d look like. I never got to see him when he was in the UAC facility, Olivia kept him from me.” He stared at them until Vega made the hologram fade away, “Has the marauder seen him without his helmet?”

Vega thought back, his fans getting slightly louder with the effort, “Actually, no. He’s never asked either. I mean I suppose it’s obvious it’s a touchy subject.”

“Would you seriously date someone if you had no idea what their face looked like, I’m sure it’s rare and I suppose it’s possible, but would you never even ask once?” Samuel shook his head, “That’s extremely suspicious. I’m definitely having a talk with that demon.”

Chapter 22: A Nightmare in a Fever Dream

A thousand tiny ropes suspended him in the air, each one glowing a brilliant iridescent red. Moans escaped his parched lips, echoing up into the darkness of the ceiling.

A fever had sunk its claws into him. Hallucinations jumped out at him.

Demons, monsters, and shiny red ropes.

He wasn’t sure what they were. Any time he faltered or showed weakness, dreams of those red ropes suspending him about a chasm so inky black he could barely see would come and haunt him. His reaction to the dream would always vary.

Sometimes paralysis would take over, he’d be stuck, suspended, eyes bulging out in silent rage.

Other times he fought and struggled, screaming in his sleep till his voice was hoarse and the sides of his face were covered in salt from dried tears.

This time, he was somewhere in between.

The marauder woke up to the man whimpering and writhing in bed. He pulled him closer, feeling his dry, feverish skin. He leaned in close and pressed his lips to the man’s ear, “You’re gonna be ok. I’m gonna get up and get you some water. I’ll be right back.” He scooted off the bed and walked into the bathroom, guiding himself through the darkness with his hands.

He returned with a tiny paper cup with water and a wet washcloth, lying it across the man’s neck. He gasped loudly in response, waking up the little gargoyle.

The marauder shushed her, “Go back to bed, he’s fine.” He dipped a clawed finger into the cup, scooted up his helmet, and dripped the water onto the man’s teeth.

Through a swarm of red ropes that threatened to drag him down into the darkness, a drop of water hit his lips. He lapped it up hungrily, desperately hoping for more. A drop hit his nose, then his forehead, then his tightly bound hands, more and more fell from the sky, or perhaps up from the ground. As it just occurred to him that he didn’t even know what way was up.

More and more fell, like rain, running in rivulets down his scarred, feverish body. A loud snapping noise on his left made him look up.

It was the red ropes. One of them had shattered like glass.

Then another…

Then another…

Soon he was soaking wet, ropes breaking on his left and right he could feel himself falling, lower and lower…

He cried out and thrashed around frantically, grabbing onto the final red rope. What would happen if he fell?

But he didn’t, he opened his eyes to see he was lying on his bed, the red rope in his hand was actually the marauder hand, interwoven tightly with his own. He looked up, thankful.

The marauder had his head turned like he was talking to someone by the door; then he paused and turned to the Slayer. He had Samuel’s face, and head, and body, and his voice. “Are you here for… smoochies, dear Slayer?”

He let go and felt himself fall. He actually woke up thrashing around, kicking at covers, and grabbing at anything to stop himself from falling.

Daisy leapt off the bed and onto the headboard, letting out a surprised chirp.

He knocked the cup out of the marauder’s hand, spilling it all over the floor. The demon patted his arm, “You’re safe. Your fever is leaving.”

The Slayer groaned and rolled over, grabbing his notebook off the nightstand, ‘Robot?’

“What?”

He squinted his eyes through his helmet, judging the being in front of him. ‘Fine, it’s you.’ He leaned his head into the demon's shoulder, sighing.

The marauder helped him lay down and hugged him close. “What did you dream about?”

Daisy scooted down and snuggled next to them, licking the Slayer’s fingers, trying to provide comfort.

He grumbled something, then wrote down in his notebook, ‘Nightmare. I guess a fever dream from being thirsty.’

“We’ve just been full of issues recently.” He chuckled and slowly ran his clawed fingers over the man’s still warm skin.

There had been so many injuries and illnesses and emotional exhaustion the Slayer just wanted to sleep forever. ‘Tomorrow me and you should go after the Icon.’

“You’re right.” The demon leaned his head against the top of his helmeted head. He hated the thought of the Slayer putting himself in harm’s way but it would only be for one more time before they would be able to rest again.

It was bittersweet, just like the wine.

Hopefully it would have a better ending.

Notes:

Also!

Two lads from the discord made some STUNNING fics and I wanted to promote em cause AO3 can sometimes be unkind to anything not in the Explicit category.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/28829790

This one is about some trippy poetic stuff with the supervisor from the DLC. (“young deuteronomy” by the very talented minbar)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/28860714

This one is before the events of Doom Eternal and it’s fantastic! (“All Quiet, For Years To Come” by the also very talented PROTOLAIKA)
(Edit 2025: Sadly this one has been taken off AO3, you'll just have to take my word that it was good!)

Chapter 23: (NSFW) Only in the Dark Can You Truly See Me

Notes:

TW: for that sweet, sweet smut.

The trio drifted off into sleep again. The marauder would wake up every fifteen minutes or so, and make sure the Slayer wasn’t dreaming again. He stared at the man's helmeted head, which was now nuzzled into his chest.

A few hours later, the Slayer woke up groaning, his arms folded up against the demon’s chest.

“How are you feeling?”

He scribbled something in his notebook then sat up in bed, scooting off his chest. ‘A lot better. I’m gonna brush my teeth.’

The marauder laid back down in the bed while he got up and went to the bathroom. Daisy stretched and yawned, giving the demon's face a lick, much to his protest, and walked out into the workshop, looking around for Samuel.

He finished up and headed back under the covers. It was nearly 5 AM, far too early to wake up for the marauder, so he had fallen back asleep. The Slayer poked him.

He lifted his head off the pillow, his horns hooking on the blanket. He pulled his head back and was thankfully freed by the Slayer. A single eye, glowing like a red hot coal peeked open to the full view of the Slayer on the bed without a shirt on. “Did you take your shirt off?” He asked, which was a rather stupid question.

The man’s muscular abs were on full display, he scratched the back of his neck and lifted up the covers that were resting around his hips to try and cover himself. He wasn’t sure how to ease into what he wanted to say, so he handed the demon a rather blunt note. ‘I want to kiss you before we go fight, just in case.’ The Slayer found himself doubting his forwardness at the whole situation heavily. He wasn’t sure if he was doing this right, he wasn’t even sure that this felt right. Was he gay? He was unsure of himself in romantic situations but in any sort of sexual situation he was completely lost. ‘But I don’t know what to do.’

In any other situation the marauder would have argued that they should wait and not let outside forces push them into doing something too quickly, but as soon as they stepped through the portal the entire weight of the world would be on their shoulders and they had a good chance of never walking back out. Yet they had been moving at a snail’s pace; they only held hands a few times and held each other even less. The Slayer was much more slow and patient than the demon was expecting, “It’s not a hard thing to do, but are you ready?” It felt silly to ask a person as old and weathered as the Slayer about a kiss.

The man hesitated but nodded after a moment, his heart fluttered not from romantic feelings but pure anxiety. They leaned in to each other, each one of the Slayer’s movements was clumsy and unsure as he slowly grasped the demon's arm, his thumb trailing along his bicep and leaned in. With his free hand he lifted his helmet, just enough to give the marauder space.

He leaned in, much more confident and casual. With one short inhale this close to the Slayer he was overcome by the stench of fear coming off the most powerful beings he had ever seen or heard about. The hand brushing against his bicep was shaking, he could feel the man’s pulse about to explode out of his body at any point where it touched him. “Slayer,” He shifted back, the only sound in the room was the ruffling of the sheets and blankets of the bed, “it sounds like your heart is about to explode.”

‘Feels like it.’ He wrote the note out and laid it on the bed, unsure if the marauder was rejecting his advances or not, which he quickly found was even worse than being rejected outright.

The marauder’s claws brushed over the man’s words, “Just relax, Slayer.” He pulled the man in, watching as he lifted his helmet once more and gently kissed his lips.

Between the helmet blocking his way and the horns blocking the Slayer’s way they hand to twist their heads to an angle. The marauder didn’t quite have lips, yet the man found himself experiencing the closest thing he ever felt to heaven. He pulled back, not unlike how he darted around an arena full of demons. He snapped his helmet back down and stared at the headboard of the bed, a rush of fresh anxiety crippling any thought he had.

“Did you like that?” The demon asked after some time and put a few feet of distance between him and the man. “Are you ok?”

It had been wonderful but the Slayer’s lips might as well have been numb. He couldn’t feel anything besides his hand moving towards his notebook. ‘I don’t want to die a virgin.’

The marauder’s eyes went wide, “I won’t take your virginity like this, in such a frantic, panicked way. That’s not how it should be done.” He would be lying if he said he hadn’t had thoughts of what their first time together would be like, but it was never something like this. The marauder clacked his teeth tougher as the man wrote out a note, “I can get you off though.”

The Slayer nodded, their bodies intertwined again and the demon gently pushed against him till he was laying down sideways on the bed. The marauder was over him, his red eyes would have looked menacing in the dark to anyone else, but they made the Slayer’s heart skip a beat. He felt claws start to dig under the elastic of his underwear and his hands rushed down to protect himself.

The marauder stopped and waited as the man wrote out a note, unsure of what was going to be on it. They both were so unpredictable to each other, like two wild snarling animals.

‘Could I shut the lights off first, and close the blind.’

“I’ll get it, take the rest of your clothes off.” The marauder got off the bed and did as the man asked, it was a struggle to find his way back to the bed, and he stubbed his toe on the side of the bed, practically falling into bed. He saved the hiss of pain by gritting his teeth and reached out until his hands found the bare legs of the Slayer who was now laying normally in the bed. He let his hands trail up his leg, brushing up over his bare hip, now unobstructed by any fabric, and up his chest. He went to grab the man by the helmet and pull him in for a kiss, but he found soft flesh and downy hair in the place of the cold metal. He leaned down and found the man’s lips kissing him without the burden of the helmet being in the way.

The Slayer followed the demon’s lead, kissing him back. He bucked his hips and felt a warm hand wrap around his cock. His eyes went wide and all he could get out was a shaky little gasp. He felt the demon’s free hand pull away and reach over, whatever he now held made a pop noise in his hand, making the Slayer jump back.

“It’s lube.” The marauder's deep demonic voice came somewhere from the darkness, “I could use my mouth if that’s what you would prefer.” He paused for a moment in the dark, realizing how difficult communication was without speech and sight, “How would I know if I’m doing something you don’t like?” A hand reached out and pulled his head close to the man’s lips.

“I could throw you ‘cross the room, I’ll let you know.” The man took a short breath recovering his voice, “Mouth sounds nice.” He said sheepishly.

The container of lube made another pop noise as the marauder shut it, and tried to toss it on the nightstand, missing it entirely in the dark sending it clattering to the floor. He could hear a little short laugh from the Slayer. He dipped his head down, trailing kisses and the feeling of his teeth against the man’s skin. He took the head of his cock in his mouth and let his long tongue handle the rest.

The Slayer tried to remain stoic and reserved, but in a few moments he rolled his head back and moaned. It was short and wheezy, not a noise that sounded like it could be made by a human let alone be a vocalization of pleasure. One hand gripped the covers and the other reached down, brushing against the demon’s face. He had his thumb on his cheek and he could feel the demon’s muscles working.

The marauder picked up the pace, one hand was on the man’s stomach the other was between his own legs, taking care of himself. He felt the man’s wandering hand grab his own, interlocking their fingers. With every movement the man squeezed his hand and made an intelligible noise. The second he unwound his hand the marauder used his on the man, stroking his cock. He now was able to lean forwards, kissing the man who enthusiastically kissed him back, only pausing to gasp out a short wheezy praise.

Their faces were so close either one could steal a kiss from the other with ease. Whether or not they’d be able to get away with their thievery without getting a kiss stolen back was another question.

The marauder’s eyes were adjusting to the dark, he could see bits and pieces of the man’s face, but nothing more clearly than him being human. He let out a low rumbling groan as he got close.

The Slayer’s breathing hitched and he leaned off the bed into the marauder, he became a gasping, moaning mess. He clutched the marauder’s shoulders, digging his fingers into the demon’s flesh, and held on like his life depended on it. A fiery knot began forming in the man’s lower abdomen. His voice was on the edge of hoarseness from his gasps and moans.

The marauder felt the man twitch and quiver. He kept stroking him but pulled his head back down, letting his tongue wrap around his cock again.

The man was close, teetering on the brink of ecstasy. He was reduced to a gasping figure, dependent on the marauder’s stroked. His lower abdomen screamed for the buildup of pleasure to be released. Finally, it hit him like a brick to the back of his skull. Unrelenting pleasure made his body shake and unravel in the marauder arms. His thighs shook and his back arched one last time during their passionate session. The release made his vision blurry with pleasure.

In one quick, experienced, movement the demon leaned down, wrapping his mouth around the man’s cock to help with the clean up. He gave a few more brief, slow strokes and licked a stripe across the tip, a string of saliva and cum connecting them. Seeing the Slayer in the throes of pleasure drove the marauder over the edge, it took him three short strokes to get himself over the edge, he came hard into his hand and flopped over beside the Slayer gladly taking a napkin the man handed him.

They were both gasping and panting hard. The sheets around them stuck to their sweaty bodies. The marauder reached over and hugged the man close, “Feel better?”

A nod was his only response. He made sure he face was close enough to the demon that he could feel the way his head nodded or shook in the dark. He was preoccupied with his mind replaying every second of their encounter. He couldn’t get over how interesting it felt to have another person between his legs.

The marauder grabbed the nape of the man’s neck and pulled him in for a kiss. He ran his claws gently down the man’s flushed skin, making him dizzy from the welcomed overstimulation. “When the lights go on will I get to see your face?”

A brief moment of hesitation turned to a head shake “No.”

He didn’t ask questions and felt the man brushed his fingers over his eyelids, closing his eyes for him. The sound of his helmet and clothes being put back on made him sad the moment was over so soon.

When the lights were on he saw the Slayer walk back over to the bed, now fully dressed minus a shirt. He walked over to the other side picking up the container of lube the marauder had missed the nightstand with. He wrote a note, ‘Thank you,’ and seemed hesitant to get back into bed.

“Come sit down.”

He hesitated and handed the demon another note, ‘I never thought I was gay before. It’s just a lot to process at once.’

“I went through the same thing the first time I laid with a man. My father was never very accepting of that sort of thing. Those beliefs weighed me down.” He looked down at his claw, picking at his cuticle, “If something like a belief stops you from being who you are, it might be time to get rid of it.” The demon shrugged, deciding he should let the man battle his emotions and not try to butt in.

Those words swirled around in his head and didn’t do much to help the anxiety he felt towards his newfound identity. He sat back down on the bed, and wrote another note, switching subjects rather drastically. ‘Your much better at that than I am.’

“So you do jerk off? What do you do?” The marauder propped himself up on one arm.

The Slayer gave a short demonstration, mock thrusting into both of his hands that were just down there cupping his crotch, through his pants. ‘I know how I’m supposed to do it, but I’ve never had much time to actually try it. I haven’t done it in a few months. Last time, it was in a little corner in the UAC Lazarus facility, just locked a door and did it real quick.’

The marauder was slightly horrified, “Fuck, a few months? My balls would have exploded!”

The Slayer was amused at his dramatics, and wheezed out a laugh, ‘I’d like to do it more, but the whole demonic invasion thing kills the mood! How about you when was the last time you did it?’

“Like five or six hours ago. When I washed the wine off myself in the shower before we went to bed.” The marauder shot the Slayer a grin.

The man rolled his eyes at the unrelenting horniness of the demon, ‘Are you sure you’re not an incubus?’ Not so long ago when they were still violent enemies he would have never expected the demon to have such human behavior.

“Perhaps I should go test for a class reassignment from super heavy to seducer.” The marauder tapped the man’s visor, it made a little “ting” noise against his claw. He wanted to pry it off the man’s head and see his beautiful face underneath. “I’ve never liked someone how I like you.”

They leaned in close, their hearts started to beat quicker and quicker. Lifting his helm up just enough he kissed the demon, the marauder kissed him back hard. His hands went up, grabbing the demon's horns and pushing him down against the bed. They kissed each other like they would both die the moment they seperated.

“Ahem.”

In a singular moment the Slayer separated himself in a tangled commotion of arms and legs and stood at the side of the bed eyes wide. The second he saw Samuel standing in the doorway, Daisy by his side, he knew he couldn’t win a pissing match with him so he grabbed his shirt off the nightstand and dove into the bathroom to get dressed.

“Ooh the walk of shame! Never thought I’d see it on you, Slayer.”

The man shot him a death glare as he slammed the bathroom door.

“Could you leave us alone?” The marauder snapped and pulled up the covers around him.

“No, get up you degenerates. Did you not hear me knocking outside the door?” Samuel shot the demon an accusatory glare.

“We were busy.”

Samuel bit back some scathing remarks and let out a noise of disgust, “Ugh, anyways I taught the little screechy demon how to play a keyboard!”

The Slayer walked out of the bathroom now fully clothed and even more fully annoyed. Ready to run damage control so the marauder could get up and dressed without another comment from Samuel.

Samuel did feel a bit jealous at seeing the two lovers. Of course, he wouldn’t ever admit that to them or himself, but he would pester them for a while.

Chapter 24: Samuel's Specialty: Being Rude

Samuel let them out into the workshop where a keyboard, that had been found, god knows where, in the fortress, was placed on the middle of the floor. “Daisy, play.”

The demon scurried over and slammed on the keyboard with her blades, she didn’t pay much attention to music theory, or even anything really, she just made noise from the keys and thought it was the greatest thing ever.

The marauder scowled, “This is what you got us up for?”

The Slayer absolutely loved it, and clapped his hands, nodding happily. ‘Good job, better than I ever was.’

“Oh, the keyboard is yours?” Samuel tilted his head interested in any detail he could wrestle out of the Slayer.

‘Someone got me one as a gift. I was never good at playing it at all. So it just kinda sat there. I found one on earth and decided to bring it up here.’ His face furrowed under his helm, ‘I don’t know why, I still never did anything with it.’

“My school forced me to learn an instrument. It was awful. Ironically I chose a fiddle, the ‘devil’s instrument.’ It wasn’t fun at all.” The marauder rolled his eyes back in his head, “And then the hell priests made me learn the harp. Ugh!”

Samuel nodded, “I learnt the piano, violin, and flute. Of course I can’t play the flute anymore. Here Daisy scoot.” He started playing some classical music piece. It was slow and calming, and complicated. His four fingers danced across the keys, working overtime to compensate for the lost fifth.

The marauder pulled the Slayer up, guided his hands to his hips, and put his hands on the man’s shoulders. Slowly, he swayed back and forth, the Slayer was confused but mirrored his movements.

Until it suddenly dawned on him they were dancing, no, not only dancing, slow dancing.

The demon probably stepped on the man’s feet twenty times, squeezing his shoulder in apology each time. Both of them felt a bit flustered and nervous, especially with Samuel glancing up every now and then, the light from his blue led reflecting in his visor.

The robot didn’t know how to feel about the two of them. He could see how much the marauder cared, but he still wanted that conversation with the demon. His fingers felt tired and he finished off the song after a few tense minutes.

They slowly separated, the marauder grinned, “You’re a pretty good dancer. Hopefully your feet will recover from me stepping on them.

The Slayer nodded surprisingly, ‘Since I couldn’t play any instruments worth a damn someone made me take dance lessons. Suppose we’re just bringing up all sorts of things today.’ He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. This was a bit too much writing for him and Samuel kept glaring into his soul.

Vega privately pinged him in his helmet, explaining the situation, “Samuel wants to talk privately with the marauder, why don’t you and Daisy go after this small group of demons I found?”

That certainly sounded wonderful, crushing some demon's skulls with his bare hands, getting his mind off all the chaos. He typed out the note using an eye tracking keyboard Vega had installed in his helmet for use during emergencies, ‘Trouble?’

Vega felt his processors whirring in the closest thing he had to a smile, the Slayer was making sure his significant other would be ok, “No Samuel’s just being, well you know, Samuel. I’ll tell Daisy.”

The Slayer sighed, annoyed at the robot, ‘Ok.’ He grabbed the demon’s arm and took him back into the bedroom. ‘Samuel wants to talk to you, me and Daisy are gonna leave and kill imps.’ He patted the demon’s shoulder and heard Daisy run over to the work bench, adorning herself in armor. ‘You don’t have to answer him if he makes you uncomfortable.’

“He seems a bit odd.”

The Slayer made a gruff noise of agreeance.

He was slightly confused at what the robot possibly wanted to talk to him about, but he reluctantly agreed, “Ok but be careful. If you need any help I’ll be right there.”

They suited up and all headed up to the main deck in a thick silence, only interrupted by their heavy footsteps.

As the Slayer and Daisy walked into the portal with a final wave, Samuel loomed over the demon. As soon as they were gone he put a four fingered hand on his shoulder and guided him quickly over to a chair by Vega’s console. He made sure to be rough, pinching his pale gray skin in the cogs of his fingers. If it hurt the marauder he didn’t show it, no matter how much Samuel changed the pressure of his fingers, or the speed of his stride the demon kept an uninterested monotone face about the whole thing.

He forced him to sit down in the chair. “You're going to answer some questions about what’s going on between you and the Slayer.” He huffed and pulled over a chair of his own, “I’ve taken this upon myself because the Slayer is blind to your demonic-ness for whatever reason and Vega is too much of a pushover to raise his concerns!”

The marauder leaned back in the chair trying to get away from the robot who still loomed over him even sitting down. “Ok, I’ll answer your questions.” He surprised himself at how calm he was remaining.

“I mean you seem lovely, the package deal. You’re relatively kind, seem to be infatuated with him, and you have me somewhat convinced that you don’t have any ties to hell anymore, except for one thing.” The robot leaned forwards and flicked his partially missing nose.

The marauder closed his eyes and pulled back, annoyed. “What’s your point? If you think I’m so good, why would you want to talk?”

“Why have you never once asked to see the Slayer’s face? That’s pretty important if you’re dating someone. It makes me think you might be more in it for information on him than love.” He glared at the demon, and tilted his head the blue optic that replaced his eye glowed menacingly.

“Well I just asked about it a few minutes before you crashed your way into the bedroom.” The marauder glared back at Samuel.

“What did he say?”

“He just shook his head ‘No’ and so I dropped it.” The demon narrowed his eyes at the robot, “Is this because I’m a dude? You don’t think I could love him the ‘right’ way.”

Samuel was taken aback at that, and finally leaned out of the demon’s personal space, sure he was a prick and an asshole but he wasn’t that awful, “No, no, it’s not about that. I don’t care who or what he chooses to fuck. I mean Christ it’s 2151 there’s only a handful of people who think like that anymore.”

A long pause settled between them.

Samuel made a growling noise instead of a grumble of defeat, it was a corrupted audio file that had been stuck in his system since he first transferred his brain. The point got across regardless, “Fine, you have my blessing. He was far worse off before you showed up so I guess you helped him… or something.” He stood from his chair and stalked a distance away, picking up a small sauntering gun and pulling out a few wires on his chest, making some final adjustments to himself.

The marauder relaxed, glad that his trial was over. He felt slightly better now that he had received the robot’s blessing and also didn’t want to wait in awkward silence until the Slayer returned. “Have you ever seen his face?”

Samuel thought for a moment, his fans getting slightly louder, “He took his helmet off in my UAC office once, he faced away from me and chugged a cup of water I had gotten him, but he put his helmet back in before I could see his face.” He elected not to tell the demon about the pictures Vega had shown him.

The marauder actually smiled at that, of course he did. He's a love struck idiot, “He has dark blond hair right? I’ve seen little bits of it sticking out from under his helmet when he lifts it up to eat, and I’ve found blond hairs on the bed.”

Samuel nodded, “Yep, rather scraggly though he needs a good haircut, it looks like he cut it himself with the doom blade.” He paused looking up from his work as if he had an epiphany, “Honestly that’s probably exactly what he does.”

Vega brought the marauder up a sandwich for breakfast.

He nibbled it and the two talked, “So what’s it like being a robot?”

“Oh interesting, especially this new body. It has nerves so I can feel things like hot and cold. It’s quite nice.” Samuel tucked his wires back into his body and sat back down, watching the demon eat, “Do your horns have nerves?”

The demon was immediately pleased by the conversation switching to his horns, “Yes they actually do! It’s why they hurt so damn bad when they grow out. They have a vascular and neural system.”

Samuel nodded, impressed at his knowledge, “Would you be willing to fill out a codex report of how marauders work for me? At the UAC we would write massive reports about demons, and this would be the first time I could actually have an interview with a representative of the species.”

The marauder shrugged and finished off his sandwich, “I could do that, but I don’t have a species. It’s just… me.” He thought back to the terror and horror he had seen. “There was a program to convert sentinels to demons. I was the only person that was able to survive the program.”

“Then how is hell going to make more marauders?” Samuel was quite interested and Vega was too, listening in closely from the ceiling. New information about demons and hell was always exciting. Who wouldn’t want a gaze into the oldest realm in all of history? “Is the program still running?”

“No it was shut down, out of a few thousand people I was the only one to survive. Not as effective as the demon running the program wanted.” He clenched his fist, bad memories rushing over him, “They thought it might be a genetic factor that made me survive it-”

“So a breeding program?” Samuel tapped his chin deep in thought, not caring if his statement was a bit dehumanizing.

The marauder burst into laughter, startling the robot, “Actually yeah! That’s what they tried. I hooked up three times and then they found out the process made me sterile. That was easily the most awkward day of my life.” He put his head in his hands and rolled his eyes, trying to ignore the old embarrassment he felt.

That actually got a laugh out of Samuel, his robotic chassis shaking.

Suddenly, the Slayer walked through the portal, Daisy tagging along behind him. They didn’t even have any gore or blood splatters on them.

“We’re there no demons?” Samuel stood, confused at the lack of blood.

‘Just a few imps.’ He shrugged, ‘I fought' em from a distance cause I didn’t wanna get a bath. What did you guys talk about?’

The marauder swooped in before Samuel could say anything, “Oh nothing much Samuel just wanted to make sure I wasn’t evil.”

The Slayer turned his head up from undoing his armor and taking off his mesh undersuit, which this time had normal clothes underneath. ‘Really? The person who betrayed me and teleported me into the depths of hell feels the need to check my company.’ He looked down at the note before holding it up, wondering if it needed a swear word for more oomf.

“No, it wasn’t nearly that aggressive. He was very respectful.”

The Slayer narrowed his eyes through his helmet, ready to maul Samuel, ‘If you say so I’ll let it slide.’

Samuel nodded in his chair, nearly shitting himself. If the marauder had been even a little more blunt about what he accused him of he would likely be nothing more than a scrap pile of metal by now.

The Slayer walked up to the main deck from the portal, and began examining a few maps and tactical analysis of the next area he would cover, Nekravol.

The marauder looked down at the robot and gave him a little wink and mouthed ‘You owe me one.’

Samuel nodded furiously, so furiously in fact his servos were a little too loud and the Slayer glared over his shoulder.

The marauder went up behind him and put an arm around the man, “So where to next?”

He pointed at the maps he had, the first one being Nekravol, the second Urdak, and the last one showed a crude pixelated image of the icon of a goat drawn on a wall with a fleshy brain exposed. ‘We won’t be able to rest once we start.’

“When are we gonna head out and do this?” The marauder looked down at all the maps feeling overwhelmed.

‘When will you be ready?’ The Slayer looked up at him searching his face for any hesitation, he found none.

“I’m ready right now.” In truth the demon would never be ready for such a mission, but he knew they couldn’t wait much longer.

Vega chimed down from the ceiling, “If you wish to go now I suggest waiting an hour to recover and eat and allow me to disconnect myself from the mainframe of the fortress.”

The marauder looked confused and looked up at the ceiling, sadness on his face, “Why wouldn’t you stay here Vega?”

“I must go to Urdak so you may activate a portal home. You will leave me there.” Vega immediately began off loading the pictures he had taken of the Slayer, censoring the ones of him in the shower, and the long chunks of text he had written about the man and sent them to some of the main ARC bases in encrypted packets only able to be opened once it was detected the Slayer was dead. In reality it would take less than a minute to deactivate himself from the mainframe, but the catalog of the Slayer’s legacy was of the utmost importance.

“Will we be able to get you back?” The demon’s fear was now spreading to Daisy who chirped and whirred looking up at the ceiling.

“Eventually, but this is the quickest way into Urdak at the moment. Retrieval should be extremely easy when you choose to do it after defeating the icon.” Vega spoke happily ignoring the biting pain in his storage that drew processing power to a folder he had no authorization to open. He tried to quickly delete it but like always it popped back up in the same location after a few seconds.

They began getting ready. The Slayer painted Daisy’s armor a lovely green like his and made sure to touch up the red mark of the Slayer on both of their helmets. He offered the marauder the mark which the demon gladly took, proudly wearing it painted on his face mask.

After Samuel raided the med bay, filling up the two packs on either side of his hip with bandages, trauma kits, and painkillers, he accepted a mark, getting it painted on the side of his head behind where his ear would have been. He complained the whole time that he made him look like a toddler had come at him with a red marker but the Slayer was certain he liked it.

They were ready.

Notes:

Love y’all so much I love writing fics and seeing such a good response. You dudes make it so worth the time I put in.

Chapter 25: Good Luck with Two

Daisy suddenly stopped enjoying her newly painted armor and growled low and menacing at the robot walking out of the doorway insisting that they head out soon.

He blinked back at her, confused, then nodded, “Oh yes, I almost forgot about what I promised you. I’ll be back.” Going down into the hull, he came back with Daisy’s very own BFG. “The gun will be smaller so one cell should give you about five shots.” He held it out.

It mirrored the Slayer’s BFG in its silver color and design, but it was longer and slimmer. There were two sharp spikes sticking out of the end by the opening of the barrel.

“You use it,” the robot snapped the cell into place, “by running up to a demon, stabbing these two spikes into them,” he tapped the razor sharp ends, “and then just pull the trigger.” Samuel handed her the gun, “I designed it with your anatomical scans in mind. It should fit to your grip quite well.”

Daisy grabbed the gun; one of her blades supported the back while the other rested on the side, ready to move to the trigger. It was perfect and powerful. Nodding happily, she jumped up and down with it in her grasp and chirped manically.

The Slayer grinned, ‘We will have to make you a whole arsenal one day. I promise.’

That made her grin too.

As they headed up to the main deck, the Slayer took one last look into his workshop. The couch they brought up and snuggled on, the workbench they spent hours at cleaning armor and talking, the scuffs on the floor where Daisy’s blades made marks, the bookshelf with the little paper book the marauder made wedged in between the spines labeled “The DoomSlayer’s High Rant ‘Bout Salad.”

Then he turned and headed out, ready to do his job.

As they reached the main deck Vega began speaking, “You’ll travel to Nekravol and through the city until you reach the peak of the tower and jump into the stream of argent energy. Then, once you are in Urdak you will stop the Khan Maykr from awakening the Icon.” Vega paused for a while, “You will leave me in Urdak since you will need to navigate home. Please be safe.”

“Wait,” the marauder stood again, evidently not entirely comfortable with the idea of leaving the AI still, “Will we definitely see you again?”

“Oh I’m sure, eventually. It’s a worthy sacrifice because demons aren’t allowed to enter Urdak, but I will be able to protect you from the holy seal’s powers until you can break it. I heard Urdak is quite pretty this time of year.” Vega’s voice sounded slightly more pensive and reserved, like he was saying goodbye without actually saying it. He was sad but he gladly accepted his fate. After all, he’d still be Vega no matter where he went! Chuckling, the AI spoke softly to Samuel, and Mr. Marauder, and Daisy, and, of course, the DoomSlayer. “You’ve all given me life that as an AI I never thought I’d have. I value each and every thing you all do. Samuel, you are my creator and despite your flaws I trust you to take care of my family.”

The robot nodded his head and spoke in his deep somber voice, “Thank you Vega. Good luck in Urdak.” It was an honor to be trusted with the safety of Vega’s found family. He just hoped he’d be able to keep them safe as well as Vega did.

“Daisy, I convinced the Slayer to keep you and gave you the name ‘Daisy’ to comfort him. You’ve kept him sane in his battles with demons on earth and the ones within his head. In the coming fight please keep an eye out for him.”

The little gargoyle looked up at the ceiling with big innocent eyes and nodded, “Screee!” She would do whatever it takes to keep the Slayer safe and get him home, even if it meant she didn’t make the journey back with him.

“Mr. Marauder, you’ve helped the Slayer in ways I never could. You’re a good demon and I love to listen to your banter. I know Daisy, whom you had kept as messenger in the past, led you to him when he was hurt and you saved him, put down your weapons, and carried him into a portal that you did not know where it would lead. You have courage and I give you my blessing.”

The marauder teared up a bit at all the kind words with his name attached to them, we partially he was never quite sure why Vega always tagged a “Mr” in front of it, “Thank you Vega. I’ll make sure to keep him alive, I'm certainly experienced at that.” He tried to laugh but it felt hollow, “I’m gonna miss you Mr. Vega.” He smiled up at the ceiling.

Vega chuckled at his new favorite nickname then his tone became serious once more, “Slayer, there’s too much to say about you and too little time, but I want you to know that I cherished every second we spent together and I hope that one day we meet again.”

The Slayer was stunned. He didn’t know what to say. The love he felt in his heart towards the comrades around him made him feel giddy and overwhelmed, ‘It’s gonna be so quiet in my helmet without you. I’ll come back for you, we all will,’ he motioned to the motley crew that was assembled around the deck, ‘We will be fine, stay safe Vega.’

“Of course, I promise DoomSlayer I will stay safe and wait for you.” Then, there was a short pause; they almost thought the AI had disconnected, but he spoke one more time, “Oh and Daisy,” his voice sounded almost slightly teasing but definitely excited, “Good luck with two. I’m sure they’ll be a handful.” The noise of Vega disconnecting from the ceiling and putting himself into a small curved metal puck was odd. It made the fortress feel completely empty, as if a giant claw had scraped the warm homey feeling out of it and left a gaping void, despite the four standing together on the main deck.

Samuel reached his hand over to the console that once housed Vega and grabbed the puck, handing it to the Slayer.

The marauder looked over at Daisy, jokingly rolling his eyes, “Vega really had to wish you good luck with me and the Slayer? You’re the wild one.”

The gargoyle just shrugged and playfully bit at his foot, causing him to swing his legs away from her.

Samuel shook his head also wanting to keep the despair out of the air and continue the joke, “He didn’t even use proper grammar either. It should be ‘with those two’ not just ‘with two.’ It doesn’t make any sense in this context.”

Slayer knew Vega wouldn’t want him to be sad so he slipped the puck into his pouch on his tool belt. ‘Samuel didn’t you program Vega? It kinda sounds like your fault.’

“Oooooh he has a point.” The marauder gave the Slayer a fist bump and looked over at Samuel.

“I’m ignoring you and opening the portal.” He wagged his finger in the air as he turned his back to them and quickly opened the portal.

The marauder hopped off the console and took his shotgun off his belt. “Well, good luck everyone.”

The Slayer gave the fortress one last look. He’d miss it while he was gone, he always did.

The four of them disappeared into the portal.

Leaving the fortress cold and vacant. One by one the heating coils shut down, running only on emergency power to keep the pipes from freezing. Slowly, the pool was drained, and filters cleaned and one by one the lights dimmed.

Until only the red light of the earth lit up the fortress.

Chapter 26: Back to Hell III

Notes:

THANK YOU DUDES SO MUCH FOR READING!!!

Their first sight was of a large titan with its hands bound to rocky spires. Cherry red molten lava poured from its eyes into a pool of the lava the beast was chained down in. Behind the suffering beast rose the main tower.

The three made short work of the few fodder demons that ran at them while Samuel kept his distance from the fighting. It seemed eerily silent for such a hellish place. Such a wide open area without even a single cacodemon or gargoyle in the sky was rare in hell.

They worked their way into the closest temple looking structure. A strange silence hung in the air between the four comrades. Between the lack of Vega’s chipper banter and the looming threat of the battle to come, it was hard to think of anything conversation worthy. After walking down several long and twisting hallways, they came to a large open area which looked to be the courtyard of the temple.

Samuel pointed, directing them, “See that gate,” he motioned to a huge metal door covered in demonic sigils, “Stand on that glowing green platform until the gate opens and be careful. I’m sure there are demons nearby.” He stood back.

The Slayer walked over to the circular green platform and as soon as he touched it the green light disappeared and a tyrant appeared in a wall of flames in front of him.

The marauder didn’t waste a second and was immediately blasting the demon with his super shotgun.

The beast roared as the Slayer started up his chain gun, ripping chunks of flesh off its tough hide.

Daisy slipped between the fire, flying up above the demon, and ramming the spikes of the BFG into its skull. Blood poured from its mouth, splattering the ground as she pulled the trigger and vaporized whatever brain matter was between the spikes, effectively taking a chunk out of the tyrant’s head.

The beast stumbled back two steps, let out a weak roar, and fell forwards on its face, before it hit the floor it was dead.

The Slayer was proud but he didn’t have time to congratulate her as other demons began flooding into the arena.

As his muscles worked and bulged under his armor, he realized that it was significantly easier to fight. He didn’t have to dash around the arena taking shots at the demons. He could almost plant himself in place and take them on with the help of the marauder and Daisy.

The marauder finished a particularly annoying carcass with a swipe of his axe, crunching its skull into the ground with a stomp.

Daisy bit the head off a whiplash and leaped to her next victim as the demon’s body writhed and hit the floor.

The Slayer barely broke into a sweat while fighting a cyber mancubus that wandered into the arena. The eerie silence took over once more now that the arena was cleared of the demonic presence. He walked over and stood on the glowing green platform. The three rings that hovered above it slowly sunk down into the ground and opened the huge door that led down into a pit.

“Wait, we have to get down there?” The marauder glanced at the drop all the way down to the stone floor below. It had to be at least a hundred feet. “How do you have climbing gear?”

‘I got U. Don’t worry.’

“What is it?” Before the marauder could even look over at the Slayer he was being scooped up and thrown over the man’s shoulder like he weighed as much as a lap dog. “W-what are you doing!” His clawed hands dug into the man’s armor trying to find some purchase to pry himself off the man. “I have some reputation to uphold you know! I can’t be seen being thrown around like a- OH SHIT!”

The Slayer leaped over the edge holding the marauder close to him. He expected it to be more romantic that he had to help the demon with this and hold him so close, but the marauder screamed in sheer terror the whole way down. Just before they splattered on the floor, he activated the jump boost rockets in his boots, stopping the brunt of the fall from hurting them, and they landed on the floor in one piece. The Slayer didn’t account for the extra weight he was holding and stumbled forwards, dropping the marauder and tumbling over him.

Daisy was gently gliding down like a blossom dropped from a tree in bloom, watching the idiots on the floor below. When she landed they had cleaned themselves up and were ready for battle.

“Wait!” The marauder looked up, “Samuel how are you gonna get down?”

The robot peered over the edge, his glowing blue optic stood out in a sea of reds and oranges, “I was gonna have a certain armored marine carry me down but he was too busy carrying you like a blushing bride!” He huffed and took a step back, “I have my ways to get down though.” He took a running leap and grabbed onto the walls that were made out of metal cages filled with rotting flesh, he quickly climbed down the cages, his hands covered in disgusting corpse goop.

Before he could tease the two more, a baron busted out of an alcove on one of the walls of the pit, the Slayer swapped between his rockets, ballista, and shotgun, making the monster stop in its tracks in a daze. He saw the chance to attack and leaped forwards, slicing and cutting the beast. He turned to the marauder as Daisy landed between the two and Samuel walked over. ‘That wasn’t so bad.’

The marauder just rolled his eyes and held up a middle finger at the Slayer. “Warn me when you are going to throw me off a cliff again.”

Daisy burst into screechy laughter, and the Slayer walked over to her and scratched her head.

“Where to now?” The marauder glanced at the Slayer. “I’ve only been in Nekravol a handful of times. I don’t remember much.”

‘Really, when?’ The Slayer wiped some blood off the side of his helmet.

“When I was still a sentinel. They took me here and I transformed.” He looked up at the spire that was just barely visible towering over the pit. “I always loved this place. Certain parts of the transformation were slow and I was able to enjoy the sights a good bit.”

Samuel leaned in, listening to the demon.

The Slayer always found himself surprised just how much the marauder liked being a demon. He didn’t see it as necessarily bad, of course; he was happy that he could be comfortable in his own unholy skin. ‘A little hot ain’t it?’ The baron's corpse behind him burst into flames and turned to dust. He took that as the answer to his question.

Ignoring the two’s banter now that the marauder wasn’t forking over any more information about hell, he walked over to the wall, “There’s some kind of puzzle to push out the block and crawl up the wall to one of those cages.”

He grumbled as Daisy simply flew up to the cage that was suspended along the side of the pit, mocking the three by flapping her wings.

“Well, I have an idea!” The marauder grinned, ran over to the Slayer, picked him up, and threw him at the wall.

The man dug his fingers into the wall and stuck like a gecko. Turning his head, he glared down at the marauder; then, he climbed up the wall and sat on the ledge. Writing out a note and holding it up, ‘Well smart ass, now how will you get up?’

The marauder walked to the center of the pit, took a deep breath, and sprinted to the wall. His foot hit the stone and he launched himself up into the air, landing next to the Slayer. He gave the man a sly smile, “Like that.”

Samuel’s voice interrupted them, “Would you two stop making kissy faces at each other for ten minutes! Help me up!”

The Slayer reached down and grabbed the robot’s extended hand, hefting him up over the edge. Then, he opened the door to the cage and crawled inside; the marauder followed him and they squeezed in together facing each other.

Daisy let out a happy chirp, flapping her wings and taking off into the sky. She was glad she didn’t have to ride in the god forsaken cage.

“I’ll cling onto the side, thank you for asking.” Samuel huffed, annoyed.

The marauder grinned at him through the bars, “Sam we could never forget about you, you’re always yapping about something.” They shifted and gave him a bit more room which he gladly took, stretching his legs out into their personal space.

The Slayer laughed at the demon’s words, but was silenced by the metal wire holding them. It creaked and groaned as they were led across a large chasm. The Slayer shuttered and stared up at the wire.

‘Gargoyles’ He held up a note and pointed down at a few tiny specks floating around in the air far below them.

Daisy flapped her wings alongside them and glanced down at the massive swarms of them.

“Oh yeah!” The marauder leaned forward, lurching the cage forwards, slightly terrifying the Slayer and Samuel, and pointed at a steep cliff, “Look at the rock. That’s a huge gargoyle nest.” He turned to Daisy, “Do you know any of them?”

Daisy shook her head and stared at the nest. A few gargoyles stared up at her. She could see their mandibles drip with saliva and blood from their recent metal enhancements. Most of them were only through the first round of enhancements of splitting the jaw and didn’t have the bones in their forearms replaced with blades like hers.

The Slayer continued staring down at the gargoyles; then, glanced ahead as they entered the very underbelly of the demonic fortress.

Suddenly a door opened up revealing a massive brain wrapped in a purplish-bluish shield. It overlooked a huge pit of lava that was dotted with stone slabs to stand on.

Samuel spoke, low and menacing, “That’s Kalibas, the sightless judge. It determines who is fit to begin the soul extraction process. The rest will be discarded to the Blood Swamps.”

The marauder tensed up and stared down the brain, vague memories of being brought before this creature after his selection rose in his mind, “Samuel we don’t need a tour. How do we kill it?”

He leaned forwards and focused his optic, “Shoot the eyes; I think there are four.”

‘How are we gonna get out of this cage?’ The Slayer loaded his shotgun and began looking for an exit to the rusty cage.

Samuel shrugged, “I just hope it doesn’t drop-“

The bottom of the cage snapped and the Slayer and marauder both fell onto one of the stone platforms in the center of the arena. Samuel clutched onto the now stationary side not wanting to drop down into the lava filled arena

The marauder landed hard on his side, knocking the breath out of him and making tears prick in the corners of his eyes. “Ah fuck that hurt.” By the time he struggled to his feet he realized that the Slayer had already taken out two of the eyes and a few pain elementals that dared to get in his way. He leapt over to one of the eyes, slicing at it with his axe.

The eyes glared at him; the whites were bloodshot red and its pupil dilated as he landed the finishing blow. He was splattered with purple goo all across his face and chest.

The man sprinted past the demon; he was panting heavily from the exertion of being so close to so much lava, and fired a ballista shot at the final eye.

While the two fought Daisy landed on a stone outcropping and as she went to leap into the fight a gargoyle bit down on her ankle and dragged her to the floor. A second appeared out of nowhere and tried to bite her face. The three were locking in a twisting, thrashing, screaming pile of wings.

“DAISY!” The marauder yelled out.

Immediately, the Slayer lifted up his ballista, trying to get a shot on the two attackers. It was too chaotic, he lowered the gun; the marauder jumped on to the rocky platform, his boots skidding and showering pebbles into the lava, and smashed into the chaotic pile. Reaching into the pile, he grabbed Daisy and yanked her away from the assault. “GET BACK!”

The Slayer immediately shot both of the attacking gargoyles now that he had a clear shot. He scrambled over the rocks and got to the marauder who was gently holding her.

“She’s ok.” He cradled her despite her violent protests of biting his arm and fingers. “There’s no blood.”

‘Put her down.’ The Slayer placed his hand on the marauder’s shoulder.

She gave both of them a wild look, before realizing her attackers were gone. Then, she happily trotted over to them with a big grin on her mandibles.

‘Good job killer.’ The Slayer squatted down and patted her head. ‘Samuel, what horrific monster is next?’ The marauder relayed the message as the note was too small to read from that far away.

The robot finally let go of the cage and dropped to the floor with the same metallic clang of a metal can being dropped against tile. “Follow me.”

They all walked off and Daisy pulled back, peeking her head down over the edge at the gargoyle nest, it had been her home one, her birthplace. Now she was treated as a violent enemy.

Good, more things to fight and eat.

Notes:

Sorry this took like forever for me to write. I got a job and lost it and got a new job and life has been... messy recently.

Thanks to all the people that gave kudos while this fic was on an unannounced hiatus seeing that people still read and find my works even though it’s not on the front page made me really happy.

Chapter 27: How Daisies Grow

Summary:

A little background on how Daisy got her metal enhancements.

Notes:

TW: for themes of body horror, and medical descriptions of violence.

She could barely open her eyes. All she could make out was a blur of reds and greys in front of her. Warmth radiated from bodies of her fellow gargoyles next to her.

She was in the community ‘pile.’ A wriggling mess of wailing, squeaking baby gargoyles, they were called squabs as slang. Other demons have similar methods of child care. The good old throw ‘em in a pile and make a few adults take care of them.

Gargoyles just tossed their spawn in the pile and hope for the best. There were no caretakers of any sort, only the kind minority who would toss scraps into the pile just to watch the babies struggle to eat them.

Of course, Daisy didn’t have her loving name given to her by Vega, not yet at least. She was referred to as “The big one,” but when she remembered back in her time as a squab she liked to think she’d always been Daisy.

Daisy was decently sized and had earned the affections of the scrap bearers. They made sure to feed her well and she could bully the others into getting plenty of food, unlike the starving runts that sat on the edges of the pile. She had her own warm resting spot in the center that allowed her to enjoy the body heat of all the others.

She was the strongest and most powerful; it felt good to have her claws sunk deep into the possibly that she really would grow up to be and adult and leave the pile.

A clawed hand reached down and picked her up. She screamed and thrashed around, attempting to bite whatever grabbed her, as she was yanked away from her resting spot.

“Hush now little one. You’ll need to save that energy.”

She struggled to open her eyes and made out the face of an ugly looking man with grey skin wearing a weird hat.

“Open your eyes all the way.” The man turned his head to face one of the gargoyle she recognized as a scrap bearer. “Is this one... defective?”

There were the screeches of a gargoyle and then a translator out of view spoke, “Apparently not. They open their eyes much later compared to other demons.”

Gargoyles could understand quite a few languages, and even spoke a language of their own. The only issue was no other demon or beast could speak it as none had vocal cords that could replicate their detailed screeches and coos.

The man held Daisy’s body in his palm and steadied her head in between his thumb and forefinger and with his other hand he slowly pried her eyes open. “There. Now go do that with all the others we collect. We want them to be warriors not blind slugs.”

Daisy’s new view was blurred by tears. Every blink stung her burning sensitive eyes that were now exposed to the hot stinging air of hell. She started whimpering and curled in on herself.

A chorus of howls and shrieks exploded from the gargoyles that had gathered around; the translator spoke nervously to the man, “Deag Grav that one you're holding has become their favorite squab. They say if you want to take that one it will cost an extra carcass.”

Deag Grav let out an annoyed huff and sighed, “Why would I do that? The payment for twenty of these little squirming slugs was five pinky carcasses. I’m already overpaying.”

A massive albino female gargoyle, the matriarch of the swarm, lunged off a ledge behind Deag Grav and snatched Daisy out of his hand. Her wingspan was so large the tips of her wings brushed against the cave walls. She turned and sprinted down one of the long tunnels carved into the rock ways of the huge sprawling gargoyle’s nest.

She was only holding Daisy here temporarily until the threat of Deag Grav running off without paying was gone. The adult pitied the little child. She had such a bright future as a gargoyle only to be sold for a heap of flesh to become a test dummy for experimentation.

She looked down at the little writhing beast. This squab definitely had a good chance of being her daughter. Most of the time it was easy to tell, due to her albino gene expressing itself. It was common for a gargoyle nest to had a specific recessive gene that ran through, whatever demon was blessed with it was often the first pick for matriarch or patriarch. Some were melanistic, piebald, shimmering gold, or like her albino, but she supposed this little gargoyle would never learn their ways.

She turned the Squab around to face her. “Child do not fear. This is for the good of the swarm.”

Daisy starred up at this beautiful figure. All she could see was a blurry white figure who had temporarily saved her from pain. Her first thought was that she was an angel.

Her possible mother leaned down and cuddled the squab close to her. She couldn’t imagine raising all her children his way… so inefficient. She reached down and held the gargoyle's tiny hand, intertwining her clawed fingers with the little one’s own. “Listen close child. You will never know what it’s like to be one of us, I fear the coming generation will not know either if Grav gets his way.” She leaned down and caressed the child’s face, who was staring up at her with watering eyes, “Your hands are your most valuable resource. We used to use them to pick the locks the sentinels would put on their windows at night. We would steal infants from cradles with our hands, they make us better than mere demons. Do not let them take your hands, my dear child.”

The matriarch held her possible child close enjoying the terrible inefficiency of their closeness.

Ten minutes later another gargoyle came down the tunnel and took Daisy back out to the priest. The matriarch didn’t flinch as the wailing squeaks disappeared down the tunnel. The screaming crowd of gargoyles that had defended Daisy were gone, all of them were now busy a few rooms over feasting on six pinky carcasses, including the albino matriarch, no gargoyle could resist the smell of food.

“Now come here little one.” Deag Grav cradled Daisy close to him, “I have such high hopes for you.”

At the time she didn’t know what was going to happen. All she knew is that she was cold and her eyes hurt. She fell asleep, her little body taxed far beyond its limits.

Looking back, she wished she would have stayed up. To this day it still bothered her that she didn’t know how the hell priest had gotten into or out of the gargoyle’s protected nest. The image of him riding a cacodemon was her own personal idea.

When Daisy woke up, she was in the main spire of Nekravol. Her eyes flashed open, she still wasn’t used to being able to see, and the little demon lifted her head from where she was sleeping. It was a little dip in the stone floor, with sides far too smooth for her to climb out.

She jumped at the feeling of something cold and metal touching her foot. Bending her childish oversized head downwards, she looked at her feet only to find she was standing on a little metal grate. She basically was stuck in a little sink. Its shiny metal gleam caught her eye and she pried it up from its hole with her hands and placed it on her head like a hat, holding it with both of her tiny clawed hands.

Looking back, she realized that sometimes she really missed her hands.

It made her feel happy so she started squeaking to try and alert the other gargoyles to her new found treasure. She couldn’t see them due to her line of sight being blocked by the dip but she could hear their little whimpers close by in their own dips evenly placed about the floor.

She slowly put the drain down, bummed that no one saw her treasure. Her happy squeaks turned to little whimpers like the rest of the gargoyle squabs until she finally went silent and fell asleep.

The next few hours of sleep were shallow and Daisy woke up several times, deciding to pace around the bottom of her tiny circular pit. She was pacing when the noise of a huge door opening shook the whole room. Every whimper was immediately silenced.

The hell priest Deag Grav walked in, scanning his newly claimed brood of squabs. “Excellent. All twenty seem to be in good health.”

An archvile followed close behind, adorned in a black sash of fabric across his chest and some pieces of black armor on his shoulders.

“Well Grim, you’re the mastermind of this operation. Who’s first?” The hell priest turned around to face the demon. “I have to leave for a meeting with the other priest’s about that new line of ‘experiments’ soon so I can only watch one of your marvelous works.” He laughed, grabbing Grim’s arm with his scrawny shriveled hand and motioning out to the pits.

Daisy listened to the two for a few minutes as they poked and prodded the other gargoyles, making the poor squabs squeal and run around the bottom of their pits in a futile attempt to escape, but she quickly lost interest and began playing with the drain cap again. Placing the little metal grate on her head, she chirped to try and attract some attention from the priest and archville.

Grav’s face immediately appeared over the side of the pit, “Quit that squeaking you little-“

Daisy took the grate off her head and launched it up at face. It didn’t even get close to touching him but it was enough to make him stop speaking and recoil away.

“Grim!” He spoke in a whiny tone, “This one tried to attack me!”

Grim spoke in a calm yet excited voice, “Excellent,” he glanced over at how pissed the priest was, “I mean it’s good if they have some fight in them. We’ll pick you.” He reached down and grabbed Daisy.

She stared up at the demon and he cradled her against his chest.

The hell priest dramatically dusted off his robes, “Now hurry up before I’m late. We already wasted enough time picking out one of the ugly rats.”

“Patience dear friend. An army is not raised overnight. Besides…” As he walked towards the door he cast a glance over his shoulder at the room, “we want these ones to fare better than that first batch.”

Daisy was too afraid to try and escape from the demon's huge claws and menacing grip, so she obediently looked around, her head bobbing with every large step the demon took.

Grim carried her into a room and placed her on a stone slab in the middle that was so smooth she could barely get a foothold. He pulled over a large metal contraption, grunting with the effort and casting an annoying glance at the Grav who didn’t bother to even offer any help. Grim bent down and grabbed a hose that had a large clear plastic cone on the end. Daisy panicked and tried to scurry off the table, but Grim grabbed her by the leg and pulled her back to the center. “This won’t hurt a bit.”

He placed the cone over Daisy’s entire body, trapping her. She began shrieking and trying to attack the clear plastic.

“So much fight! Just go to sleep, little one.” The hell priest watched as Grim turned on the metal machine he dragged over.

Daisy struggled for only a few seconds after the gas hit her nose; then, she slowly slid down the plastic sides of the cone. She couldn’t move or run and everything slowly faded into darkness.

When she woke up she could feel she was back in her little pit. The smooth stone under her claws helped cool her panicked mind down. Her head was tightly bandaged by straps of dirty fabric.

Slowly, without opening her eyes, she used her claws to remove the bandages. As soon as they were in a bloody crumpled pile by her feet, her jaw hung open completely mangled by the surgery. It had been split in two. Her mandibles moved independently of each other and each tooth in her mouth had been replaced with a metal spike. Luckily, nothing hurt except her throat and mostly everything was still numb.

It was then she heard the whimpering of all the other gargoyles around her. She couldn’t see them but she heard them and smelt a sickening amount of blood. The room no longer was filled with the sounds of twenty little squabs; there were maybe only ten silent whimpers.

The next two weeks Daisy sat in her little pit and slowly felt her jaw heal. Each day the pain subsided little by little and she felt somewhat better.

Grim would occasionally pick her up and check on her, forcing her two separate bottom jaws apart and listening to her whimper. He was happy that they had grown so much in the two weeks, but he was displeased that so many of them had lost the will to live already. Daisy, despite how her glazed eyes stared off into the distance while her head uselessly flopped in his hands, was doing the best out of all of them.

At that point he simply gave up on the brood, taking them all out of their pits and putting them in a pile in the middle of the floor. As he closed the large door, the ten survivors stared at each other.

They actually began to perk up now that they were in their familiar pile. Daisy quickly took on her role as leader after a day or so, but she didn’t stay at the center of the pile; she guarded the edges, keeping the weaker ones protected from the door.

It only took two days for hunger to set in among the survivors. They all gathered together in a huddle facing each other, staring menacingly, and waiting for one to show a sign of weakness.

Daisy was staring down the scrawniest male among them down when a scent caught her attention and she broke away from the huddle. A scrawny female chased her down, mistaking her walking away with an acceptance of defeat, but Daisy whirled around, grabbed her, and tossed her back into the huddle, barring her horrific mangled snarl and puffing out her still useless wings, since she didn’t know how to fly.

The scent caught her attention once again. Daisy could smell food, meat. Her yellowish glowing eyes darted to a barred window she was positive she could squeeze through. The idea of food rattled around her brain again and again, making her wiggle through the bars and leap out of the window.

She overshot the ledge of the window by a few inches and fell. It was at that moment she realized just how high up the main spire of Nekravol was. It was suspended thousands of feet above a sea of frothing lava, and she was hurtling right down towards it. The little demon fully believed she was about to die, until she smacked the railing of a balcony and landed in the middle of it in a crumpled heap. There was no time to recover. She hobbled inside whatever entrance the balcony led too, desperately following the scent of food.

It was a small room and it seemed to be a store room for ingredients of some sort. Daisy’s face lit up, she leaped onto one of the shelves and began tearing into a sack of some type of preserved meat. She didn’t care what it was, only that it tasted delicious. The sack was almost twice her size but she felt stronger than ever. Grabbed it with her split jaw, she dragged it out onto the balcony. Her jaw screamed in pain but she ignored it as she dug her claws in the rough outside of the spire of Nekravol.

She slowly climbed up the side; her claw slipped and she just barely caught herself. In a panic she flapped her wings chaotically. With the last bit of her strength she was able to get a foothold and rest for a moment, despite blood dripping out of the still healing wound of her split jaw. She struggled and her head finally emerged victoriously above the edge.

The survivors chirped with happiness and swarmed her, reaching out their clawed hands and dragging not only the bag but their leader into the room excitedly.

Once she was safe, they all retreated a few steps back in respect of their new food bringer. Daisy caught her breath and slowly unclenched her jaw, allowing the bag to fall onto the floor. She had held it so tightly her metal teeth had punctured the roof of her mouth. She was still scared she was going to drop it despite being on solid ground.

Slowly, she stuck her tiny clawed hands in the bag and distributed the chunks of meat out to her horde.

For three days they survived off the meat until the huge door swung open and Grim entered the room. He expected to see the corpses of a few squabs, but he instead saw Daisy, now double her original size, hissing at him, protecting her horde.

She charged him in a rage but he grabbed her. “I made you! If you’re fairing this well we will be moving to stage two.”

Chaos unfolded as the gargoyles charged him, but he shoved them back, slamming the door in their face and dragging Daisy out into the hallway. She twisted and screamed, getting the better of him and biting his face. The feeling of her tooth puncturing his eye was something that stuck with her for the rest of her days. She remembered only two things between that moment and passing out: her head being slammed against a wall and the Grav screaming at Grim to be gentle with a squab in good health; then, the world went black.

When she woke up, it was the same as before. She was back in the room with the little pits in the floor surrounded by whimpering, crying gargoyles. The only good thing that came to mind about the suffering around her was the fact it still sounded like all ten members of her horde were alive.

This time Daisy didn’t hop up and take off bandages to reveal whatever monstrous thing had been done to her, what body part was now mutilated. She could feel her arms weren’t right but she couldn’t bare to look down. Her hands… the angel had said…

She tuned out the whimpers of her fellow gargoyles and drifted off into a fitful sleep.

Eventually, she’d learn to love the pain of her modifications and the fact that they made her stronger and better than any gargoyles that came before her wrath, but for now she curled up in a pit that she could now easily step out of and whimpered for relief to come.

In a few rooms away from the lab both Grim and Grav sat at a table. Half of Grim’s face was bandaged haphazardly.

Two holograms tuned into the room of the other hell priests Ranak and Nilox. The three priests argued for a while about dumb policies that Grim didn’t give a rat’s ass about. So he leaned back in his chair, put his feet on the table, and lit up a cigar, taking time to savor each hit and reminisce on his loss of depth perception.

When the topic of conversation finally turned to his line of work he took a paper out of his sash and began reading off it, “There are currently ten gargoyles that have my modifications implanted in them. They are stronger and far more vicious than the current breed. The only issue with my process is the fact that there are billions of gargoyles in hell and-“

He was cut off by Deag Ranak, “Oh leave that up to me and my mechanical creations! I’ll have at least half the population weaponized by the end of the month!”

“Ahh so you just sent me here to see if it could be done.” Grim was hurt by this new plan of the priests. He thought this was a long term project not just a one time job.

Deag Grav turned to him, “Not necessarily. If you are still interested there’s a new program we have that’s just about to start. It will certainly require your expertise.”

Grim shrugged and huffed on his cigar angrily, “Well what is it?”

“It’s called the sunshine project. It’s very new and very exciting.” Deag Ranak nodded with an ugly grin on his face.

“Sounds lame and stupid. That’s the frilliest, gayest name I’ve ever heard.” He went to stand up from his chair to leave but was stopped by Deag Grav grabbing his arm.

“It’s about making a new terrifying soldier! We were going to call them the sunshine warriors to confuse the enemies.” Deag Grav spoke in his whiny voice. The other priests around him nodded happily and agreed.

“Fine, I'll work on the program under one condition: I get to name it.”

“But I picked out the name...” Deag Nilox grumbled under his breath, “I thought it was quite clever too.”

“Deal. What name do you have in mind?” Deag Ranak leaned in towards Grim, stretching the bounds of the hologram and making his body blurry.

As Grim took his cigar out of his mouth he noticed a tiny manufacturing error. Instead of ‘Lara Uder’s Famous Cigars’ the name was smashed together and the ‘L’ was horribly misshapen, looking more like a ‘M’ the more Grim stared at it. It was a ferocious name and he immediately enjoyed it and the way it rang around within his brain, without looking up he spoke, “How about the Marauders?”

Chapter 28: 'Cause They Can See The Flame That's In His Eyes

Notes:

The fic is gonna be getting back to a normal once every two week schedule soon so yay! The story is starting to gear up and I’m setting some really fun stuff into place for future chapters.

To all the people who binge read or have been with me since the beginning just thank you so much. This story means so much to me and it’s so cool that we are almost at 200 kudos! Woo! I’ve met so many kind people though this fic you all are the best.

Your Pal,
CornFlake

Daisy snapped out of her daze and glanced over at the Slayer and marauder who were questioning Samuel for directions.

The robot guided them through hallway after hallway of demonic hordes. The Slayer led the way with the marauder and Daisy behind him and Samuel bringing up the rear, shouting directions. Suddenly the Slayer was stopped by the marauder’s hand grabbing his shoulder.

“There’s a buff totem up ahead.” His voice sounded different, more scratchy and demonic.

The Slayer turned to face him and was greeted with an awesome yet horrific sight.

The marauder’s head and body was wrapped in bright red flames that seemed to blossom from within him; his eyes were glowing cherry red and flames were escaping from his mouth, licking up the sides of his face. He gave the Slayer an odd look, noticing how the man stared at him in awe, “What? You’ve never seen the effects of a buff totem before?”

The Slayer quickly scribbled out a note, ‘I haven’t seen them on you before.’ He continued staring at the demon, ‘Does it hurt?’

The marauder glanced over his shoulder at Daisy who just walked into the effect zone of the totem and burst into flames, “No, it feels... different, but it doesn’t hurt.”

Daisy bounded over to the Slayer eagerly showing him her flames then bounded over to Samuel.

“Don’t you dare try and catch me on fire Daisy!” Samuel swatted her away in a rather undignified way until she scurried back to the Slayer. “We’ve already survived a full day down here. I will not let you kill me now!”

The Slayer knelt down and reached out slowly, hovering his hand over her head. Once he deemed the flames to be strangely absent of heat, he petted her head still in awe of how the flames didn’t burn his armored hand.

The marauder tapped him on his shoulder with a flaming claw, “Can we go fight something?”

The Slayer looked up at him to see the flames coming out of his skull had become hotter and were burning even brighter than before; some of them were even turning blue with the heat coming off of him. For some reason he couldn’t explain the blue flames coming off the demon gave the Slayer some odd sick feeling. It made him scared for a split second and he hated that he didn’t know why.

He snapped out of it quickly.

‘Sure, it’s just right up ahead. Is something wrong?’ The Slayer stood up and reached out for the marauder hoping to calm him.

He backed away from the Slayer, “No we better not touch. I just feel like I have to fight.” Sweat that was dripping down the sides of the demon’s face began shining like rubies as they reflected the flames around them.

Samuel chimed into the conversation, holding up a tablet that displayed their vitals, “Are you still alive? Your vital signs are all over the place. I think your heart should have exploded about thirty seconds ago. Is this really what a buff totem does to a demon's innards?”

The marauder rolled his eyes, “Yeah it’s a bit of a mess.”

Samuel looked up at the demon then back down at the tablet, murmuring to himself, “So many spiky graphs…”

The Slayer didn’t take the time to write a note; he nodded to the marauder, leading them down a passageway. They came upon two huge walls blocking their path forwards. Suddenly, they both slowly lifted up, spikes lining their undersides. As the Slayer went to step forwards, they slammed back down into the floor.

“It’s a puzzle sort of thing. Run through when the spikes are up and don’t get mashed into paste.” Samuel spoke to them.

The Slayer scanned the deadly trap, scooped Daisy in one hand and held the marauder’s hand in his second, and yanked them through the trap while the walls ominously hung above their heads.

Samuel stayed back, not daring to go into a buff totem arena, but suddenly he heard a low growl behind him, down one of the dark hallways.

As soon as he was through, the walls slammed shut behind them, blocking them from Samuel. The marauder let out an unholy roar; flames sparking and exploding out of his skull at the sight of the demons. All the demons in the room also had the flames covering their bodies but they didn’t look nearly as terrifying as the marauder. The Slayer’s only thought as he leaped into battle and searched for the totem in a sea of demons was he definitely wouldn’t ever wanna be at the end of a buffed marauder.

The demon lunged for an arachnotron that was preparing to shoot at the Slayer.

It let out a screech of horror as it saw the marauder charge towards it. “WAIT HOLY SHIT DUDE WE’RE ON THE SAME SIDE-“

He cut off its begging by grabbing its head and ripping it right off its fleshy brain body. At this point the demons erupted into a panicked mob. Imps desperately trying to escape the marauder and Daisy who was gutting the poor flaming creatures where they stood.

The Slayer spotted the buff totem, its red hue was perched on top of a ledge on the far wall of the arena. He sprinted in its direction and used a cyber mancubus that had just recently spawned into the arena as a jump boost, planting his armored boot right in between its ugly stare. As he landed on the ledge, he swung his muscled arm, shattering the totem. Its red hue vanished from the demons in the arena, including the marauder.

He froze for a second at the sudden lack of power flowing through his veins. An imp took advantage of his moment of weakness and frantically swung at him with its claws. The pain of claws slicing his side snapped him out of his daze and he punched the imp’s screeching face as well as trying to grab the demon's limbs to stop the assault. The demon only grew angrier, realizing it might as well go down with a fight, and sliced at the center of the marauder’s chest, and peeled his breast plate off his bloodied skin. The marauder flinched backwards and held up his arms to protect his face and neck.

“You’re a scourge upon demon kind allying with the... Slayer-“

The marauder snatched the imps arm as the demon spoke and snapped it backwards. The imp fell to the floor howling and thrashing in pain. The marauder tried not to think about that vermin’s comment on his honor as he ran over to help the Slayer deal with the cyber mancubus, leaving his breast plate behind.

Daisy hadn’t even faltered when the flames of the buff totem stopped swirling around her. She swung her BFG in a circle, lacerating any thing that dared come within the reach of the two spikes at the end of her gun. The only thought bouncing around in her head was how much more effective her weapon would be if the spikes were serrated, but she was happy it did its job well as she ripped the organs out of the last imp like confetti.

She glanced around the arena looking for her Slayer. At the sight of the Slayer and marauder ganging up on the last demon in the arena, the cyber mancubus, Daisy let out an excited chirp and sprinted over to them.

The demon truly looked terrified. It glanced between the trio as they slowly walked closer to her. Her beady glowing eyes focused on the marauder and the cyber mancubus spoke in a scratchy guttural voice, “Aren’t you one of us?”

He whipped off his mask with the hand that wasn’t clutching his axe, tossing it to the floor, “Accept your doom. We have you three to one.”

She leaned forwards, mockingly, on the large cannons that made up her arms, “I was just trying to figure out the mystery of why one of hell's beloved gladiators and fighters just up and left. I bet good money on you before you were drafted into that battalion… and now you're fighting with the Slayer?” She gave him a quizzical look.

The Slayer glanced between the mancubus and his lover. He was beyond confused that demons were talking and suddenly so interested in the marauder. His face went beat red under his helmet. Of course he wasn’t ashamed of being in a relationship with the marauder, but the thought of every demon in hell knowing they were together made him feel sick with embarrassment.

“There’s tens of thousands of gladiators, I won’t be missed,” he raised his axe and pointed it at her ugly maw, “Just kill her.”

The Slayer took that as a signal to shoot and rapidly switched between his rocket launcher and ballista, and before the mancubus could even scream in agony her gut exploded. The force of which turned her body into a puddle of gore surrounding a mangled spinal cord that was topped with her still intact, wretched face. Luckily the trio had jumped well clear of the noxious puddles of green oozing from the body.

The Slayer looked over at the marauder and pointed at his chest, surprised.

The marauder looked down realizing his breastplate had been torn off by that imp, revealing a nasty puffy purple scar that all the purple veins on his chest ran into. The chest around it had been twisted into a depression like the ribs underneath were broken inwards. He sighed and covered the scar with his hand. Feeling weirdly embarrassed over it, it must be how the Slayer felt with his helmet.

He walked over and held up a note, ‘Let’s go and cover up your tits.’

He felt too exposed and was glad the man didn’t try and reach out to him. “See, the leather strap finally broke, you were right!”

The Slayer walked over and picked it up off the ground helping the marauder reattach it to his other armor, it wasn’t perfect but it would work.

Suddenly they heard a loud shout and the sound of a demon on the other side of the trap where they left Samuel. The Slayer’s sprinted over and pried up the doors. He expected the robot to be a pile of bolts and metal.

But Samuel was standing upright and holding the severed head of a rather large hell knight. “Don’t worry I took care of it.”

The Slayer stood confused, ‘You don’t have any guns!’

The only evidence of the fight was the corpse, a tiny splatter of blood on the robot’s forearm, and a single bloody fingerprint on his faceplate. “I survived quite a while in the initial invasion. Did you think I hid in my office the whole time?”

They all walked back into the main room, confused and impressed at the robot’s abilities.

“Oh Daisy no!” The marauder tapped the Slayer’s shoulder and pointed.

The Slayer whirled around, spotting the ornery little gargoyle munching on the carcass of a half dead imp. ‘Bad Daisy!’ He scooped up the demon and scolded her. ‘You can’t eat an imp that’s a bit much Daisy... do you want food?’

She nodded and began nibbling at his hands. All this fighting had made her significantly more hungry than she usually got.

“Daisy, don't eat the Slayer.” The marauder chided her. “God you have a bad habit of eating creatures, first that gargoyle and now an imp.”

The Slayer set her down to rummage through his pockets for their rations, ‘I am glad you ate that little bastard gargoyle, but it did seem rude, Daisy.’

She whined and tapped her blades on the ground. All this teasing and scolding was annoying her. She ate him because she was hungry and didn’t need his company anymore. Why couldn’t they understand that?

Samuel came to the small demon's rescue, “Hush, let Daisy be, she’s just a psychopath like you two. Poor little thing, are they bullying you?”

Daisy faked a whimper of sadness and nodded, but was quickly silenced when the Slayer tossed her a pack of crackers. With the ferocity of a starving animal, she ripped the tiny baggie they were in wide open and gobbled them down.

The Slayer then pulled a little granola bar out of his tool belt and split it into two pieces, handing one to the marauder. ‘Here I have some more rations but we can eat the rest when we get to Urdak.’

The marauder down at the sweet man, tenderly holding out food to a demon. He seemed small and almost doll-like compared to the huge monstrous demon. The marauder grabbed half of the granola bar and blushed at the act of kindness, “Thank you Doomguy.”

“Oh what so I don’t get any?” Samuel pouted.

“You’re a fucking robot!” The marauder rolled his eyes.

“Well, I’d at least be nice if you offered some to me.” He decided not to go into the logistics of how he actually did have to eat a little bit but was fueled up for another two weeks.

‘Would you like a granola bar dear Samuel?’ Doomguy teased and held out a granola bar to him.

“Eww no those things are disgusting.”

Chapter 29: Clawing Our Way Up to Heaven

Notes:

From now until July 17 DoomPet will be updating DAILY!!! Cause this fanfiction is celebrating it’s one year anniversary! I couldn’t have done this without everyone. All the kind words and comments and kudos and friends I’ve made along the way make this so much more than just a fanfiction to me.

Even if this is the first time you’ve seen this fic or if you’ve been here since the beginning, Thank You.

Your Pal,
Cornflake

After they nibbled on their rations, except for Samuel, the Slayer scribbled in his notebook, ‘I’ll go get those skull switches. I know how to get to both of them. I think.’ He stood up and wandered to the left side of the arena.

The marauder sat in the middle of the arena with his legs tucked underneath him and Daisy was next to him with her head lying on his lap.

Samuel was sitting on a nearby step shouting occasional profanities at the man. They watched the man’s erratic, almost predatory looking, movements as he searched for a way to get to the switch.

The marauder could see the switch but there were cell bars that ran a little more than halfway up the wall, blocking the Slayer’s access.

The Slayer suddenly stopped, calculated if he could make the jump, and from a standing position leaped up onto a cage that was slowly being pulled up the wall. He pushed off the cage and grabbed the footholds in the wall next to the bars that kept him from the switch. After making sure there were no traps on the other side, he pushed himself off the foothold and leaped over the bars.

A few seconds of silence hung in the air around the marauder as the Slayer disappeared out of his vision; then suddenly half the large steel pieces keeping the main door shut slid back into the hinges of the door. The Slayer walked back into the main area, and figured out the puzzle, quickly getting to the switch and opening the main door.

The marauder watched him with a deep interest. Ignoring the piercing screams of the damned through the open door he tilted his head and looked up at the Slayer, “How are you so good at figuring out those traps? I know hell’s architects pride themselves in making ‘Slayer-proof’ fortresses.”

‘Eons and eons of practice.’ He flashed the marauder a devilish grin under his helmet. ‘Besides those cell bars didn’t even go all the way up the wall!’ Stretching his muscular arms above his head, he glanced in the direction of the open door and the screams of demons in the next room. ‘Are you up for the next room? It seems pretty rough there. We could take a short break now or after we crush their skulls.’

The marauder slowly rose to his feet, grunting with the effort. “We already got a tiny break eating rations. Might as well fuck em up and then rest for a bit. Let’s go crush 'em.”

The Slayer happily nodded, giddy with bloodlust. It was so nice to have someone cheering him on for once. Not Samuel’s sarcasm, or Vega’s worried scolding, just someone to be by his side, and help him kick some ass. He began walking towards the door with a new perspective on his fight against hell.

“We should wait and rest here, there’s a huge horde of super heavies.” Samuel scolded the three.

The Slayer and marauder simply kept walking, completely ignoring Samuel’s suggestion.

Daisy rolled back her head and let out an unholy scream of a battle cry. Her mandibles opened wide as her cry echoed through the halls. She was ready to kill for the Slayer.

They walked into the final arena, guns blazing. The Slayer immediately shot his BFG across the great hall, though he was very careful to make sure his demons were safe behind him and not within the range of the shot. The green sphere of plasma lashed out its long tentacles, taking out the current horde and letting them get a foothold in the room. As soon as the BFG hit the far wall and most of the original demons in the room were dead the trio spread like the plague. Killing anything that entered their sights with precision and sheer brutality.

Daisy took to the skies swinging her mini BFG in large powerful arcs, taking out any gargoyles or cacodemons that dared attack her or her friends.

The marauder took a deep breath and howled with rage, “HARU!” His axe glowed orange for a second and Haru exploded out of it. He had time to recharge to his full capacity and was ready to kill. They both charged into the fray of the arena, leaping down into the pit near the center of it. Haru felt a tinge of disappointment as he sunk his teeth into a hell knight’s neck. He hated the fact that it wasn’t the Slayer’s neck.

The wolf ran by the marauder’s side around the demonic hall, shredding anything that got in his best friend’s way. Perhaps with too much abandon since he almost leaped onto Daisy twice.

The marauder looked up only to catch a glance of the Slayer battling not one but two doom hunters at once. Jumping back and forth between their sleds, the Slayer teased the two hulking dumb beasts shooting them with his plasma rifle, breaking their shields. Then, he let them die, taking both their heads clean off with two shots from his precision bolt.

They landed with a sickeningly loud thud on the grated floor.

The battle was over as soon as it began. They all slowly gathered together and regrouped in the sunken area of the hall. The Slayer stumbled back till he hit a wall and slid down it.

The marauder shot a worried gaze over at him, “Hey, are you hurt?”

The Slayer shook his head and held a thumbs up. ‘Fine, tired.’

There was a loud thundering crack on the far wall; the marauder immediately tensed up, ready to protect the Slayer at any cost. He watched as the statue of Olivia in the far end of the hall tumbled down, shredding open the grate floor. Luckily, there were no demons, only Haru standing proudly on the ledge behind it, pleased with the destruction he had caused.

The marauder smiled with relief and pride at his friend, “Awesome Haru!” He sat down beside the Slayer.

Haru leapt off the ledge and sprinted over to the marauder. His butt wiggled with sheer uncontrollable joy as he started licking the marauder’s face and horns clean of gore. Lapping up the blood also helped him stay rooted in the world longer and keep his strength up. He whimpered and did a little dance lifting up each one of his paws as the marauder gently pet his head, praising his friend.

Samuel walked in like a blister, showing up after all the hard work had been done. “Is that your dog? I don’t believe I’ve met him. You say blood anchors him in this world?”

The marauder nodded, and began to explain in depth how his wolf worked.

The Slayer twisted to the side, cracking his back; then he stretched his arms out in front of him. Fighting doom hunters took a lot out of him and he hated how they were strong enough to bully him around, but he shoved the thought aside and turned to the marauder, ‘I haven’t seen Haru in a while. Why don’t you summon him more?’

He shrugged, “He has to recharge in the axe for a long time after a tough battle. Plus since we have a sort of ‘bond’ to communicate through he… said he doesn’t really like you.” Giving the Slayer a guilty smile, he shrugged and didn’t make eye contact.

“Ha! I like the dog!” Haru was licking the bloody finger print off Samuel’s face. The robot gave him a quick pat, the creature looked translucent orange, but felt like any normal dog or wolf with warm fur and a wet nose.

The Slayer looked over, not very offended that the demon dog wasn’t a fan of the demon killer, ‘What doesn’t he like about me?’

The marauder glanced at the wolf, “He didn’t tell me why last time I asked. Do you wanna tell me now Haru?”

The wolf stopped licking Samuel's face and glanced at the Slayer. He quickly looked away, pondering for a moment; then, he barked in a hushed way at the marauder as if the Slayer would overhear their conversation.

The demon rolled his eyes, “Really? That’s why you don’t like him? Come on Haru. Trust me I’m confident in this. I talked to you about it.”

He licked the demon’s face and tilted his head to the side and whined.

“Haru, that's mean!” The marauder rolled his eyes. “He doesn’t drink blood!”

He barked.

“Haru!” The demon rolled his head back and sighed, “They are all dead. We watched it happen. What else did we have here?”

Haru’s ears flicked back in annoyance, but alas he submitted and agreed to at least tolerate the man.

“Thank you. That means a lot to me.” The marauder patted the wolf’s fuzzy translucent head.

‘What did he say?’ The Slayer petted Daisy’s head, she had scurried over to him and laid her head in his lap while they were talking. He found it funny the way the marauder and Haru argued with each other like an old married couple. He wished he could talk to Daisy like that. Looking down at her, they made eye contact for a second before he pulled his attention back to the marauder.

Haru went back to licking Samuel, who was vigilantly watching over the conversations taking place, cataloging the very many interesting things that were being said.

“He was just afraid that you were just trying to lead me away from hell so you could kill me and drink my blood. He agreed to not kill you for my sake so at least we made some progress.” The marauder reached out and gently grabbed the fluff on Haru’s neck and squished his cheeks. “Squishy, squishy, squishy little man!”

Haru’s fluffy cheeks squished out making him look pudgy and adorably stupid. He bared his teeth at the marauder’s squishing in silent protest.

The Slayer nodded, taking the situation much more seriously. He could understand why Haru was upset and thinking that he was the bad guy. He reached his hand out a fist that had killed more demon’s than Haru had ever laid eyes upon. For once it wasn’t an act of violence but a truce, the wolf sniffed the smell of blood and gunpowder and gave him a gentle lick.

“That’s my good, kind wolf.” The demon stood, picking up his axe. “Shall we continue on?”

“God, you people hate to take breaks.” Samuel rose to his feet.

Giving a gruff “Unf” of agreement, the Slayer followed his lead and all five walked to the split open grate on the floor.

Samuel spoke, “From here we will head into the main spire and fight our way to the top. It’s a simple but dangerous climb.”

The Slayer leapt down into the grate and was greeted with the sight of the drawbridge to get to the main spire. Immediately, the bridge was overrun with demons that were clawing and scraping their ways up the sides.

Haru dashed ahead, pushing past the Slayer, biting a zombie's neck and pulling them to the ground to finish them off.

Not fazed by the small horde of demons, the Slayer barely moved and simply launched a dozen sticky bombs near the fodder demons.

A single pain elemental was summoned into existence through an explosion of flames. Just a few shots with his ballista and the creature shrieked and fell into the thick red fog far below the bridge.

All and all it was underwhelming.

With a team hell was almost too easy to fight. He barely had to swap his weapons out or dance around like a monkey to avoid fireballs. Gripping his shotgun, he glanced over at the marauder who hadn’t even gotten to take a shot at anything.

“Hey! Save some fun for me you ass.”

‘You gotta be fast. Look at Haru. He dove in headfirst and killed a bunch of em. Good boy.’

Haru layed down, panting heavily; he wasn't used to this much fighting, but was pleased at the praise being bestowed upon him. He couldn’t read of course but as the marauder read the note he could understand the basic emotion behind the words.

“Oh wait,” the marauder squatted down beside the wolf and petted under his chin, “Here do you need to head back in the axe?” He tapped the axe and in a flash of orange light Haru disappeared. The marauder’s face immediately became solemn, “It always makes me sad when he disappears. If we can find him some blood to drink next time I summon him he’ll be able to stay rooted in this plane longer.”

In the marauder’s mind the hallways and mini arenas melted together into a frenzied blur. He didn’t snap into attention until they walked into a huge room with four massive skeletons sitting in chairs. All four of them were impaled by huge spikes built into the back of the chair. Each menacing curved blade pierced right through their now decayed hearts. Argent energy bloomed from their gaping skeletal mouths in huge blue arcs, a painful memory snapped into blinding focus. Before he could turn to the Slayer and speak, the room erupted into a swarm as demons crawled out of every nook and were summoned by explosions of flames.

Samuel pressed himself against the wall, letting the trio of chaos take care of the fighting. He glanced at the time, seeing that they had lost yet another day in their long climb. Without sleep he wasn’t quite sure how they were still fighting for so long, he assumed the argent energy had something to do with that.

Daisy was the first to attack this time, swinging her BFG right into a mancubus’s stomach, gutting the creature on the spot. The Slayer followed her lead, taking out a revenant that tried to lock onto her with its missiles. The marauder snapped out of his daze and blocked another revenant’s attack with his axe and grappled with the demon until it fell to the ground. While it was down and stunned, he stood back up, swung his axe over his head, and brought it down on the creature’s skull.

He looked up only to be face to face with the red glowing eye of a pain elemental.

The creature gave him a huge grin, “Are you a betrayer?”

The marauder didn’t even respond; he was beyond sick of demons nosing into his business. “FUCK OFF!” He took out his shotgun and before the pain elemental could react he exploded its eyeball with a point blank shot. He muttered a variety of curse words under his breath as he went to help the Slayer and Daisy with two whiplashes that were bullying them around.

The two snakes used their whips to corner them at range while a doom hunter spawned into the arena and rushed over.

The marauder rushed past the snakes and charged the doom hunter. Slicing the demons exposed sleds with his axe. It swung its arm cannon and the hit connected with the marauder chest, tearing open the slices the imp from earlier had given him. He fell backwards and fired two shotgun shells at the demon but his force field made them ricochet off. Panic rose in his throat as the demon reared up, just about to slam its arms into the marauder. As he braced his arms in front of his face in a futile attempt to protect himself, he heard Daisy screech and turned to look at her flying over. She tossed a gun to the marauder.

It wasn’t just any gun, it was the Slayer’s chain gun. He activated the turret. All four main barrels slid down into position and the marauder squeezed the trigger. The force of so much firepower almost knocked him onto his back. But he managed to slowly get up while filling the doom hunters sled full of lead. Finally, the beast roared and staggered backwards, its injuries making it ditch the sled.

As it’s sled shattered into a mangled heap of scrap metal, Daisy came down from the sky out of nowhere and wedged her BFG right into its horned skull, making it crumple to the ground, bloodied and dead.

The marauder turned to survey his friends. The Slayer was fine; he had taken care of the two whiplashes with his lock-on burst once they gave him a chance to move around. Daisy was fine, basking in the glory and adrenaline rush of killing a super heavy. Samuel was beating a single stray zombie with a metal rod.

Now that the battle was over he stood among all the rubble and blood, staring up at the chairs.

The Slayer carefully walked over to him, handing him a page torn out of his notebook that said, ‘Are you ok? Is it Haru?’

“It’s not that.” He let the page fall to the ground and touched the glowing red light that was set in his armor. The deep purplish veins that ran out from underneath it led to a wound hidden from the world.

“When I transformed into a demon it started here. Me and the other sentinels were put in cells so we could be exposed to enough demonic radiation to see if we could handle the rest of he process. Of course, back then they weren’t filled with water of course.” He pointed at the pits around the room that had now been filled with water that was electrified from the simply being so close to pure argent. “Only a few of us survived from all that radiation. Then they took who were left and impaled them on the chairs as the final test to scrub any sentinel weakness from them.” He covered the wounded side of his chest with his palm, “It was awful...”

The Slayer didn’t even know what to write. The hand holding his notebook was shaking. He knew how awful it was to lose your friends and comrades to demons.

“But, we all chose that path. Despite how awful the first part of it was, I wouldn’t choose any other way.” He just shrugged and turned away, looking at the Slayer, “I could talk about it more if you want, but I don’t want to bore you.” He looked over at the Slayer and gave him a weak chuckle.

The Slayer dropped his notebook and pen, the noise of it clattering to the floor echoed through the room. He didn’t know how to comfort him with words, so he wrapped his big burly arms around the marauder hugging the larger demon close to him.

The marauder teared up for a second. Emotions of long buried fear and anger slowly dissipated as he felt the Slayer hold him close. As the man drew back the marauder bent down and picked up his pen and notebook, “Here,” he gently placed them in the man’s palm, “Thank you for that.”

Samuel and Daisy stood awkwardly in the corner. He was gonna say something snide, but decided against it. He hoped whenever the marauder finally explained the transformation process he’d be allowed to listen.

Slowly they left the room, the Slayer led the pack like always, and Samuel guided them from the back.

The rest of the spire was just chaos. Demons of all shapes and sizes crawled out of their dens and gave it their all trying to take their party down. The Slayer enjoyed the fighting more than usual. It gave him a chance to shut off his thoughts and worries about his lover and just shred everything in sight. Most of the demons left Daisy alone, pissing her off a great deal, they simply thought she was part of hell, despite her armor and gun, allowing her to attack when they least expected it.

The marauder took Haru out of the axe halfway through the spire. He was glad to have his friend by his side for some support. Letting the ravenous wolf charge through the demonic ranks, he charged right alongside him.

The spire changed as they approached the top. The argent blues faded to hellish reds and oranges then finally the architecture changed to a clean white Maykr design. They finally fought their way up to the two Titans that crowned the top of the fortress.

With chains tied around their wrists, they held up some large device that was the last step in sending the hell energy to Urdak. Demons swarmed around the device, guarding it from intruders.

Its Maykr design was apparent, clean whites, tiny matrixes hidden in its texturing, making the device look grown rather than manufactured, and large red tubing running down its sides. It was shaped like the tip of a huge spear and hovered in the flow of energy.

The demons around it screeched as they spotted the intruders, but they couldn’t stop the Slayer or his motley crew.

They took off in all directions. Daisy leaped at an arachnotron, ducking between its four metal legs. The creature let out a confused roar and spun around trying to find its attacker. Daisy was still hiding underneath the beast and plunged her gun into its soft underbelly, between its plates of armor and pulled the trigger. The arachnotron screeched as its brain collapsed in on itself, showering Daisy in the icky matter as she already started to sprint over to her next victim.

The marauder was swinging his axe with a newfound fury towards the demons. The rage of his lost comrades fueled his anger. Between the long range of attacks of his axe and short range attacks of his shotgun he kept the swarms of demons around him at bay.

The Slayer took on a doom hunter that was erratically running around the arena. Tossing an ice bomb, he froze the beast in place and slit its throat with a final blow from a ballista shot.

Samuel, like always, hovered in the corners, he actually blended in quite well with the Maykr architecture, which was probably just a coincidence.

Once the battle was over, the arena was hushed by a strange silence due to the lack of the screams of the damned and demon claws scratching on Maykr technology.

The strange spear head held up by the chains shook with the sheer force of the blinding white energy flowing through it. The Titans holding it up growled low, vibrating the landscape, as they saw the Slayer approach one of the chains.

Samuel's voice shouted to him, “Break the chains now! Open us a portal to Urdak!” His voice was authoritarian and had the power of a preacher, the Slayer rushed to the chains.

The Slayer smashed one of the chains; the strange makyr device fell for a short distance before coming to a halt as the other chain tried to hold it in place. Arcs of electricity bloomed across the arena from the hanging device.

The Slayer quickly navigated the arena, smashing the other chain and sending jagged bits of metal flying past his helmet. The device fell into the beam of energy clanging against metal beams all throughout the spire of Nekravol.

Daisy went to let out an excited battle cry but was stopped by a low grumbling. The marauder quickly got Haru back into his axe, scooped her up quickly, and looked around frantically, “What is that?”

The Slayer shrugged and looked around. Some small rubble by his feet was shaking violently and soon the whole floor was rumbling.

Samuel suddenly realized what was going on, “It took out the supports of the spire, MOVE NOW! GO GO GO!” He leapt into the energy beam.

The marauder tucked Daisy into his chest and bolted for the beam. He turned to the Slayer who was running alongside him and grabbed his hand firmly. He could feel the ground start to slope forwards and far below him; he could hear the screeching of metal collapsing on metal.

They leapt forwards into the beam. Searing heat hit their bodies, knocking the breath out of the Slayer. He let out a shaky gasp, clutched onto the marauder, and shut his eyes in terror. The swirling colors and twists and curves of the beam made his stomach do flips.

The world faded in and out, explosions of color flashed across the marauder’s eyes; then…

everything.

went.

black.

Notes:

"...Now when he opened his eyes he was dead as dust, his jewels were missing and his heart was bust!"

A Corpse Bride reference in your Doom Fanfiction? It's more common than you think. Remains of the Day is easily one of my favorite songs from that movie.

Chapter 30: Small Talk While Waiting for the Maykrs

The marauder slowly cracked open one of his bright red eyes, groaning in pain and confusion. Every inch of his skin was sore; he felt like one giant bruise. A headache was throbbing behind his tired eyes, the crackle of pure argent energy still ringing in his ears. He carefully rolled over from his sore, tender back onto his even more tender side and looked out at his surroundings.

It was definitely in Urdak. The marauder hadn’t even seen a picture of the heavenly place before, but it matched the architecture of the strange spear-like device they destroyed back in hell. Gleaming white, gold, and red palaces were perched atop the endless void below them. Stars and nebulas swirled far off in the distance behind the structures of the gods. In the distance he could hear the holy ambient noises of this heaven. The marauder laid on his side completely mesmerized by the beauty. All he could muster was a short and humble, “Wow.”

All the sudden he felt something squirm in his arms, and he realized he was still clutching Daisy tightly to his chest. Her eyes fluttered and she whimpered as the marauder slowly relaxed his grip and set her down on the floor. He checked the half awake gargoyle for wounds but luckily he found nothing life threatening except for a few scrapes. “Thank the wraiths.”

He gasped and scrambled to sit upright, looking around the area. “Slayer!” Turning, he spotted the man lying face down with his arms and legs splayed out around him. The marauder was by his side in a moment, rolling the man over and checking for a pulse.

Luckily, the Slayer wasn’t injured. He swatted the fingers poking around his neck trying to find a pulse and groaned as he sat upright.

The marauder sagged with relief. The man was a lot harder to kill than something like a stream of energy, but still he doted over his friend, fussing and making sure he was unharmed.

The Slayer glared but allowed the demon to lift his arms up and check his torso front to back, making sure that there were no wounds.

Daisy limped over to the two of them, her bladed arms clicking against the stone. She lightly butted her armored head against the Slayer’s armored chest and curled up in his lap, all the while making contented clicking and chirping noises.

The Slayer slowly stroked Daisy’s back and wings. He was just glad she was all in one piece. ‘That hurt.’

Grimacing through the pain of his headache, the marauder nodded in agreement. “I feel like I got punched all over. I’m starting to feel a bit better though.” Since waking up his headache had subsided a good bit and he felt more coherent.

A bright red bush rustled nearby and a familiar four fingered robotic hand popped out. “Someone help me out, please?”

The marauder walked over and helped him out of the bush, also picking the branches out from in between his joints. Which was actually quite a touching gesture, Samuel looked pleased.

“Are we in Urdak?” Samuel looked around but his eyes caught on the two medical packs on his side.

The Slayer nodded, “Unf.”

“We’ll shit, cause all my medical equipment is broken.” The med bots that could stabilize a patient in moments were nothing but metal and fried circuit boards. Vega had forced him to put the most heavy duty version of them on and yet they still all failed. He felt squeamish and nauseous, despite not having a real stomach. He kept thinking in the back of his mind, of this was an omen of the death that was to come. Shoving the thought deep into the back of his mind, he was yanked out of his downward spiral of thought by the sound of laughter. He saw the Marauder laughing at some dumb joke the Slayer wrote, all of them completely unfazed by the lack of medical gear. The demon’s face lit up with joy as the Slayer held out more notes. Even Daisy started chirping in unison. His face darkened; he hoped they lived through the fight.

After watching the idiots for a little longer, Samuel spoke up. “Let's start to head down to the main cathedral where the Khan is plotting the icon of sins awakening.” He paused and then spoke once more, “Be safe in the next arena.”

“When have we not been safe?” The marauder cackled as they stood.

Samuel wanted to slam his head off the nearest rock at the marauder’s remark. He couldn’t think of three separate occasions where they had even been a little safe.

The floating rock they were on now had a steep cliff leading up to its higher flat plane that towered above the oblivion far below. Trees with silver trunks and leaves as red as blood twisted into orchards in the flat and all along the cliff, finding purchase at ridiculous angles. No gleaming castle dotted this rock, instead the Slayer assumed it was just a random orchard.

“This place reminds me of a whiplash I used to date.” The marauder walked over to one of the trees and snapped a silvery branch off its trunk, examining the red leaves.

The smallest pang of jealousy shot through the Slayer, talking him by surprise, ‘How so?’

“I haven’t seen her in years.” He paused to look at the branch again, “But she had a tiny figure of a tree that looked just like these.” The demon held up the branch to the light shining from a particularly bright nebula overhead. “Man, she was a bitch.”

Samuel chuckled, “Yeah ex’s can be snakes.” He wheezed with laughter, “Get it cause whiplashes are like snakes?”

The Slayer ignored the heap of scrap metal, ‘What happened between you two?’

“Well she used me as her fuck toy and I fell for it thinking she loved me.” The marauder tossed the branch aside. He looked distant for a moment.

That made the Slayer think about the sex he had asked the marauder for right before their fight. He felt a pang of guilt and passed him a small note, hiding it from Samuel. ‘Were you ok with what we did then?’

The demon smiled at him, and grabbed his pen returning the note back to him, ‘Of course I was. The situation with her was nothing like this.’ He motioned between them, ‘You actually like me, she didn’t.’

The four walked out the edge of the cliff and slowly edged their way up. Grabbing onto tiny slivers of rock and fistfuls of tree root, the three slowly worked their way up as Daisy glided to the upper area.

As they huddled into place, lying on their bellies behind some cover, the Slayer took out his heavy cannon and gazed down the sight. On an island a few hundred feet away, the cathedral gleamed with absolute beauty. Its Maykr design made it shine radiantly under the cosmos. It dripped power and energy. He then handed it to the marauder who looked at the beauty for himself. “It looks like there isn’t any activity happening down there.” He handed it to Samuel to be sure.

He nodded after looking down the sights, “I think the heart of Valen’s son is still in transport.” It has to be true for such a huge ritual there were no extreme bursts of energy or swarms of activity from the inhabitants of Urdak.

“I used to be in the same soldiers guild with Valen’s son when we were little.” The marauder blurted out. He of course knew all about Valen and his son and what the betrayer had done. Still the revelation made him truly sad for a moment. “Will this save him?”

Before the Slayer could respond Samuel spoke, “No, Valen instructed the Slayer to put his soul to rest. He’s suffering.”

The marauder nodded his head, “Good, he was a kind kid.”

‘Should we go down now before they have the chance to summon him?’ He went to stand up but was stopped by Samuel’s scolding.

“No. If you attack them now they’ll take the heart and summon it somewhere else. Right now the goal is destroying the heart, not the Khan.” Samuel sighed and took out a tablet, reading long lines of coordinates. “I’ll track the heart and tell you when to head down there for now let’s just rest.”

The marauder nodded, “Sounds good.” He then turned to the Slayer, “I guess we could eat up those rations. I’m fucking starving.”

The Slayer took out a pack of crackers, some kind of dried meat, and a handful of pretzels in a baggie. ‘Crackers or jerky?’

Daisy snatched the cracker baggie out of his hand and glided down to the lower ledge to eat it. As she flew away she cackled as if she had gotten away with murder.

The Slayer opened the baggie and sat down, patting the ground beside him.

The marauder obediently sat down beside him and held out his hand for the ration salted meat. As it was placed into his palm he quickly ate it up, tearing the dried meat with his long fang like canines. Murmuring his praises at the taste of it.

The Slayer quietly nibbled on the few salty strips. The little bit of food made him feel much better. He didn’t realize how hungry he was.

“This is so good. Is there any more?” The marauder poked the Slayer’s helmet. The Slayer handed him the rest of the baggie and he gobbled down the rations. He once again poked the Slayer, “Do you have any water?”

The Slayer nodded as he finished up his jerky and handed him a small canteen of water. Once the demon handed it back, the Slayer wrapped an arm around the beast. ‘Do you wanna talk about something?’

Out of breath from chugging the water, the marauder wiped his mouth with the outside of his arm and shrugged. “Maybe?” He looked over at the beauty of Urdak. It looked like an entire galaxy swirling and glimmering right before his eyes. He felt a tug on his arm. For a second he hesitated; he knew what the Slayer wanted to talk about.

A note was placed in his lap when he refused to look, ‘Do you wanna talk about how you became a demon?’

“I wanna tell you. I just don’t know how to start.” He turned to face the Slayer and rested his head on his shoulder.

‘Well why did you choose to do it? That’s a good start.’

He opened his mouth but stopped short of speaking. A few tears ran down his bony face, and he shook his head, wiping at his eyes.

Samuel motioned to the Slayer, asking him where he should go but to his surprise the Slayer wrote to him, ‘You can stay.’

The Slayer squeezed the demon close to him, patting his back.

The marauder blinked in surprise and looked over at the Slayer. He couldn’t understand how the man hadn’t been disguised by his show of weakness. “I can’t remember most of it.” The marauder rubbed his eyes and slowly let go of the Slayer. “I remember stuff from my childhood but as soon as I joined the army it gets blurry.” He felt the Slayer rub small circles in the muscles of his back. “There was the civil war of course between the wraiths and those damned maykrs. I ended up signing up for an experimental program after a mess.”

The Slayer held the man in a loose hug, making sure to let the marauder know he wasn’t going anywhere. For the Slayer these tense emotional moments were more stressful than facing a horde of demons, but he’d keep himself together for the marauder. As the demon stopped talking, getting lost in his dark thoughts again, the Slayer tentatively asked another question, ‘Were you forced into the program?’

The demon looked down at his clawed hand, his grey-ish, white-ish skin dirtied with flecks of dried blood. “I hated my life as a sentinel.” He remembered charging out into the army’s camp one night dressed out in full makeshift demonic regalia and scaring the shit out of several offices and soldiers. Back then he just thought it was a joke but he soon realized how good it felt to be someone other than him. He spoke again, “It’s not that I wanted to join hell's forces, I just wanted to get out of my old skin. That program made it sound so perfect.” the marauder sighed and shook his head, “But I didn’t join it right away. I had my family. My mom and dad and all my siblings. I couldn’t leave them.”

They both sat in a thick silence for a long time. The Slayer watched as the marauder closed his eyes in concentration trying to remember or maybe forget. Daisy flapped her wings back up to where the men were and curled up beside the Slayer. Even she was quiet, her usual chirps and screeches toned down to be barely audible.

Samuel hovered nearby, slowly sitting down. He watched different emotions play out on the marauder’s face.

“I got in a argument with my mom, found out I was an illegitimate child from my dad having an affair, I just decided fuck it and signed up for the program. I never saw them again.” He stared off into the heavenly dimension, “Now that Hell invaded them I doubt they are still alive. I don’t even know how I would find their graves.”

The Slayer reached down and grabbed the marauder’s clawed hand. He wasn’t sure what to say, how to comfort the demon. He could relate to that feeling of unending loss with no way to find solace or make peace. The graves of those he used to love were unmarked and in another universe.

The marauder squeezed the Slayer’s hand. “Thanks for listening to my sob story.”

‘Life sucks. It’s good to talk.’

“Amen to that,” He pursed his lips, thinking of something he wanted to say, but instead hissed in pain. “Fuck.” He wiped at his face, revealing a cut, “That fall must have busted my lip open.”

The Slayer glanced over and saw a pathetically small cut on the demon’s lip, he had gotten more grievous lip injuries when he skipped out on chapstick for a few days. ‘I didn’t think you had lips?’

“You’re such a smart ass. I have thin ass lips, but they are still here!” He pointed to his face, licking the blood off his thin lips. “Hey do you know the work I had to put in to get these thin ass lips?”

‘What do you mean?’ The Slayer looked confused, tapping his pencil against his notebook trying to think back, concerned if he missed something important. It suddenly dawned on him, ‘Oh, when you transformed.’

“Yeah. That was not fun at all.”

‘Did it hurt when your horns came in?’

“The whole thing hurt. At the worst part the demon who was monitoring me thought I wasn’t going to make it. He even prayed with me during what he thought were my final hours. I didn’t realize that demons prayed... that always stuck with me.” The marauder reached over the Slayer and petted Daisy’s head, “and that’s when I met you too Daisy.”

She chirped loudly and pressed her head into the loving pat. She still remembered meeting the marauder for the first time even though it was practically eons ago.

‘Could you tell me about it?’ The Slayer had only seen the before and after of demonic invasions; the gory in between with transformations and rituals was completely unknown to him.

“Sure, I didn’t expect you to be that interested in it.” The marauder stood up and began relaying his tale. The demon was chatty enough for both him and the Slayer combined.

Samuel perked up, this was the moment he had been waiting for.

Daisy tucked her bladed arms underneath her, like a cat, and wrapped her wings around her. Closing her eyes, she listened to the tale.

Chapter 31: To Be Loved...

Summary:

Part one of the marauder’s backstory

The man tried humming to distract himself from the pain, that, and the charred corpse of his comrade that sat slouched over on the floor right next to him. He was kneeling on the rough stone floor with his head pressed up against the bars, humming away as if he were a happy go lucky drunk patron of a bar. The humming did help for a few short minutes until he remembered the bruises and scrapes the floor gave his knees and how his skin was being slowly scorched off his body by extreme demonic radiation.

When they first put him in the cages deep under the floor, he could only feel a wall of searing pain, but now it came in waves, burning and blistering one minute and barely hurting the next. Looking down, he saw the skin on his hands was almost completely charred off, only blisters and bits of red skin held his tendons from popping out.

He wanted to leap up and scream and tear his sizzling skin off. It felt like bugs were eating him alive, wriggling in between his muscles and tendons, crawling inside his skull.

He screamed, slamming his head against the bars. “GET THEM OFF ME! GET THE BUGS OUT OF MY HEAD!” He wanted to collapse and writhe in pain but he knew he’d die if he gave into it. He stopped slamming his head, once again slowly pressing it against the bars and whimpering, waiting for some release from this hell.

In total he was in the radiation cages under the blisteringly powerful gaze of pure argent energy for five days. He couldn’t remember much since his mind blocked out the pain, and the memories.

When they finally took him out he was almost seventy pounds lighter, a skeleton of what his muscled physique used to be. The flesh on his face had taken a beating between the radiation and near constant slamming of his head against the bars; his face looked more like a skull. The skin was stretched taught over the bones of his face, and his eyes were sunken down into his sockets.

Once he was out and the worse of his burn wounds were cleaned out. A small army of demons acting as nurses and caretakers gathered around the barely alive corpse and dragged his limp mangled body to a quiet alcove.

The man laid on the dirty floor of the alcove. He could feel grit and tiny pieces of stone getting into the freshly cleaned wounds on his back and arms, but he ignored that. All he could think about as he stared at the ceiling, his eyes glossing over from the immense pain he had endured, was a strange feeling that developed in his chest.

He felt like his heart was trying to escape. It was beating frantically, tickling the inside of his ribs. A sharp pain took over, making him seize and scream. Foam and spit poured out of his mouth and his head rolled around as though he were possessed.

The demons swarmed him, dragging him out of the alcove and into the main room. The radiation began blistering his skin once more, opening up his barely tended wounds. He was writhing in agony as layers of his flesh peeled off into the clawed hands of the demons that carried him. They were leading him towards the four large chairs in the center of the room with blades curling up though the back of them. Three were occupied with skeletons, all with their mouths permanently twisted open in terror as the blade penetrated their meaty rib cages. They yanked him upwards hovering him above the empty chair, pausing for a moment before slamming him down into it.

The sweet relief of not being dragged around anymore washed though the man, but it quickly faded as he looked down. The blade in the back of the chair had pierced through his chest, ripping his heart out. Blood oozed from the hole in his chest. His heart vacant from the spot, a cool steel blade taking its place.

An bright red Imp plucked his still beating heart off the tip of the blade severing the arteries and veins connecting it to his body. His raspy screams filled the room, begging for mercy. He didn’t know how he was still conscious without his heart, but in a few seconds, between panic and blood loss, he succumbed to the darkness.

He woke up three days later.

Scrambling to sit upright, the man gasped for air and looked at his surroundings. The place was quiet... it wasn’t in the radiation cages or the alcove or that damned chair. He found himself in some small cave made from a beautiful sandy orange rock. It was so peaceful. He felt his tense muscles slowly relax as there was nothing to worry about.

He was safe now.

With a long relieved exhale he turned slowly looking around the hollow he sat in. It was carved into the side of the cave perfectly level with the floor; It was just big enough for him to sit up and long enough to lay down in.

It felt dumb to admit but it was cozy. He enjoyed the warmth radiating from the stone and being curled up in such a tiny warm place made him feel so safe. All the trauma was shoved to the back of his mind as he savored every second he spent in this little safe space.

He noticed light filtering in from the wide entrance as he laid back down. He could see a wooden bridge with no railing outside the cave. It connected the entrance to a cave across a ravine. At least he wasn’t trapped in here; it looked like he could walk out at any time. He looked around the cave. It was made out of the same orange sandstone his hollow was carved into. It had a little counter and a bunch of barrels and crates stacked up on one side. There were also a bunch of tiny crevices that had herbs and trinkets poking out of them all throughout the cave. Something else caught his attention. There was another hollow carved half way up the wall on the left hand side of the cave.

He supposed it was for his comrade. The small sentinel boy that was in the same radiation cell as him. A strange pang of sadness ran through him. He turned his head to look outside the cave once more but, out of nowhere a prowler suddenly appeared right in front of him.

He gasped and crawled back in the hollow, pressing his back against the rock. One hand was raised to protect his face with the other frantically searching for a weapon, but he was only able to find the small linen blanket lining his hollow. He couldn’t do anything with a worthless scrap of fabric.

The demon knelt down, its three golden eyes peering at the man, “You’re up already?” It reached out a purplish clawed hand and poked his ribs.

The man swung a weak punch at the demon's arm. “Stay the fuck away from me!”

The prowler rolled his eyes, seeming unfazed by the panicking sentinel, “We are on the same side, calm down.”

It dawned on the man that wasn’t a sentinel anymore. He didn’t have to frantically lunge at any demon he saw just to survive. He slowly calmed himself down, taking deep shaky breaths. The past week or so was a blur between signing up, traveling to hell, and getting his flesh melted off, but they told him the worst would be over now. “Did it work?”

“The first stage did. You’re a hell of a lot taller.” The demon grabbed the man’s arm and peered at his skin, “Nice healthy gray skin too, not patchy or rotting.”

The man nodded, and sure, he felt a little sick but he was alive, “Oh... thank you. I can’t remember what the stages are. The radiation made me just...” he gently tapped his temple, “forget.” The radiation had to have scrambled his brain, or perhaps it was from slamming his head off the bars. Everything felt like it was a million miles away, even the memory of following the Hell priests into a portal to hell was blurry and that was only a few days ago.

The prowler immediately found himself taking pity on the man, “Yeah don’t worry temporary memory loss is common. Stage one is radiation, stage two is powder, which,” he pointed to a crevice across the cave, “Its over there and I’ll administer once I think you’re ready, stage three is a liquid you drink, and stage four is an injection.”

As the man nodded, he looked down at the deep wound in his chest and realized his pulse was gone. “I don’t have a pulse.”

“Well it's not called ‘undead’ for nothing.” He shrugged each one of his three eyes blinking a few seconds after the other, “Don’t worry they’ll put your heart back in after stage four. Any time before that and it gets messy.” The demon went to turn to walk over to the counter but hesitated, “Oh I’m Marty by the way. If you have any questions, ask me. I’ve been in hell longer than you’ve been suckin’ on your ma’s tits.”

The man laughed, cracking a smile, “I’ll keep that in mind.” He watched Marty head over to the counter, taking bits of food out of various crevices. While he, the freshly undead man admired how his body had changed. The most noticeable difference was the fact that his charred skin was beginning to heal. He still looked rather red and crispy in some spots, like an over cooked strip of bacon. Even still, it felt better than he could ever remember feeling as a sentinel. He still couldn’t truly see how tall he was since he was confined to his hollow, but he could feel how much longer his legs and chest were. Suddenly he blushed, realizing he was only clothed in a loincloth, luckily it was plenty big enough to cover himself.

“First things first, I’m asking you a question.” Marty disappeared from the counter and teleported mere inches away from his face. “Why the hell would you join this program of all things?” He pulled back, sighing and pinched the bridge of what would be his nose.

The man opened his mouth then hesitated, thinking for a moment, “I’m on the run. From my family and from myself. I saw this program and I knew it was the right choice.”

“Seems like a good reason.” Marty now lost a good bit of hope that he would be able to convert the man away from the program. He did have a legitimate reason, perhaps the best reason of all, not having anything left to fight for. Marty realized he had paused, standing motionless in the middle of the room with a blank look on his face, for an awkwardly long amount of time. “Here you must be hungry.” Marty quickly walked over to the stack of crates and barrels, opening one up and grabbing a snack of dried meat for both of them. “Listen, this is an experimental program. You're part of the fourth group of sentinels. Each and everyone in the previous groups died long painful deaths. While this group has fared a little better, it’s not worth it. You can be a zombie right now and give this up.” He handed the man the dried meat in hopes he’d gladly take the meat and agree with him.

He took the snack hungrily from Marty’s hand, but he didn’t happily agree, “You won’t have to worry about me dying. I’m becoming a marauder, it's the only thing I want to do.” He looked down at his hands, hoping to see his cold dead skin transform into the sharp clawed talons he saw on the sign up poster the priests handed him right before his eyes.

Marty snorted, “Well at least you have more confidence than the rest of them.” In his mind he tried not to lose all hope. The man was confident to a fault but maybe he would beat all the odds and survive. He was snapped out of his downwards spiraling thoughts by the man.

He looked around the tiny cave, “Where are the rest of them? I came in here with almost sixty other soldiers.”

Marty bit into the dried meat, talking with a mouthful of it. “Well thirty now- anyways each person gets their own ‘watcher’. They are scattered all throughout the area. So when one of them dies it doesn’t stress the others out.”

That actually seemed to hit the man hard, “One of the skinny new guys died in the radiation cells right next to me. That’s a good system I guess. As long as they have someone to comfort them when they go.”

Marty teleported over to a small crevice and pulled out a rolled up blanket and some small bag. He walked back over to the man and placed the blanket down in front of him and handed him the bag. “Here,” as Marty offered him the extra blanket he pointed at the bag, “take as many as you want. They are little sentinel candies. I’ve heard something familiar can calm bad thoughts.”

He could barely process such kindness the demon had just shown him. “Marty, thank you!” The candies weren’t anything he’d ever tasted before but he could remember seeing them at expensive shops when him and his siblings would go cause trouble in town. They could never afford them but they used to beat up kids who could and take their candies. It was such a dumb thing to do but he could still remember biting into the delicious candies.

“Oh damn! Don’t cry.”

He snapped back to attention realizing that a few tears had run down his cheeks. “Sorry,” he quickly wiped them away, “just got a bit overwhelmed.”

The prowler nodded “Oh it’s fine, happens all the time, don’t get too upset it’s bad for you health. I’ll leave you alone for a bit. I have to update my superiors about your progress.”

The man gave him a weak thumbs up, and laid back down in the hollow snuggling under the blankets and rubbing his face as Marty teleported away.

Of course Marty wasn’t going to his superiors.

“And then I told him it ‘happens all the time’ but it DOESN’T. I’ve never met a sentinel like this dude. I think he has the best shot, Mez” Marty was almost out of breath talking about his new sentinel to watch over.

‘Mez’ was the affectionate friendly nickname for a yellow colored imp who was sitting in a chair with her long legs propped up on rock within her own watcher cave, looking rather uninterested, “He sounds special, He sounds strong and confident, but when the axe swings his little head will roll.” She made a little tumbling motion with her finger, “Doesn’t matter if you have a Saint, Marty. You give them cyanide they will die. I’ve told you why we are here, our real job is to thin the sentinel populations. The marauder is a demon that will never exist.”

“Grim may be insane but he’s a genius! Look at what he did to the gargoyles!” Marty threw his hands up in the air. Nearly all of the gargoyles had been modified in a variety of ways, the only bad thing was that their nests had been split up. Now instead of large colonies they lived in small groups or solo and were becoming a bit of a nuisance, digging around in trash cans and stealing food. At least they couldn’t pick locks on doors anymore; that was quite the annoyance.

She closed her eyes annoyed and reclined farther into her chair. “Read between the fucking lines, we don’t even know what stuff we are pumping these sentinels with and in a few days there’s stacks of bodies lying everywhere. Grim isn’t trying to make a super soldier, he just wants to kill sentinels and probably test a new poison too!”

“I want to keep him alive, just a little longer. I want to see if it is possible.”

“Whatever. Then you will take my medicine to him?” She held up a menacing vial with several warning labels sketched in demonic runes.

“I have my doubts about your medicine.”

Mez rose out of her chair in one smooth motion, giving Marty a cold stony glare. She pointed to the corpse of a man who had died shortly after getting past the first stage. “Look at how peacefully I put him down, all while your sentinel is writing on the ground still.” He was still lying in his hollow curled up as though he were asleep. All three of the latest sentinels put in her care had passed away within mere hours, the radiation taking too much out of them. “This one didn’t even wake up before he died. They experience peace the second they are in my care and I know a dozen other watcher demons in this program that do the same.”

Marty quickly shut up, realizing he had overstepped his boundaries way too far. He knelt before the Imp hoping for forgiveness from his best friend.

“Don’t kneel to me, just learn when to hold your tongue.” She pulled Marty to his feet. “I wanna see your ‘magical marauder man.’ Show me.”

Marty nodded and teleported back into his own cave, taking Mez along with him. Immediately, all he heard was the sound of coughing. He whirled around to see the man on his hands and knees gasping, a layer of thick purple transformation powder covering his nose and lips.

His eyes were wide open panicky staring at Marty, “I-I-I... tri... tried to...” he broke down in a coughing fit, “s-speed... it up.”

Marty was immediately beside the man’s side desperately trying to wipe the powder off his face. The man must have gotten up from bed and gone over to the crevice to get the powder. He must have taken a whole handful of the shit. “You should have waited! Half a teaspoon is the dose! You took a handful!” Marty was almost hysterical. The man was coughing and gasping and dying right in front of him.

Mez shoved Marty aside, “Idiotic sentinel!” She grabbed the man and stared him in the eyes, “Breathe sentinel.”

“I-I... I can’t...” he struggled to get any air past his throat. The air that was in his lungs screamed for release. The powder coated every fiber of muscle in this throat, contracting them beyond anything the man had felt before.

“I thought you wanted to be a marauder and you can’t even breathe?” She sneered down at his face.

His grey skin was beginning to turn blue, but he wasn’t gonna let himself die. He sucked in a breath. It immediately felt like he swallowed fire, the muscles in his throat tearing as he inhaled. His jaw started rattling.

“Now exhale.”

He made an awful noise and forced his lungs to cough up the air. His throat was on fire but the next breath came easier. After Mez guided him through several breaths he began shakily breathing on his own.

Marty had his hands covering his three eyes. He couldn’t believe that the sentinel had gone wild and taken the powder without him and that he had even survived. “Why? Why would you take it without me there?”

The man looked awful, most of his nose and lips were burnt off. It was obvious he was in a great deal of pain by the way his sunken eyes twitched when he moved, “I thought I could speed the transformation up... I didn’t realize it was that painful.”

“No you don’t understand,” Mez helped him to sit up, “It’s impossible for you to be alive right now. You should have overdosed ten minutes ago.”

Marty ran over to a crevice and pulled out an old dusty water filled canteen, turning to Mez he asked her a question, “Should we give him a bit?”

“What a stupid question,” she looked down at the frazzled man who was coming to realize how close he had just come to dying by not listening to Marty, “Does your throat feel like it’s on fire?”

“Y-yes...”

She glared at Marty, “Give him some.”

Marty walked over and placed the canteen on his charred lips, “Drink until you’ve had enough.”

He gulped down the water and turned to the Imp, “Who’s she?”

“I’m Mez.” She gave a tiny little half wave. The realization crashed over her that this was an actual insane person who was managing to surrive this bat shit insane process.

He nodded, still frazzled by what had happened, “Thanks for helping me not die.”

A week after the initial shock and terror of the man almost dying, Marty settled into being the caretaker. For once in his career he actually had some joy, trying to go above and beyond for this man. He had faith that he would survive.

Mez didn’t trust his faith as much as Marty did, but she was certainly interested in the man. Since her sentinel had died she stuck around with Marty, caring for the man.

The sentinel on the other hand still felt awful. His nose and lips were burnt so bad he was having trouble eating. Any food he managed to get past his burnt lips irritated his throat so much he coughed it back up.

“He’s getting thinner.” Mez poked the man’s ribs.

“No shit.” He snarled back at her. He was cranky and in a great deal of pain.

Marty patted the man’s head, “It will be fine, once his lips heal he’ll put some weight back on-“

An evil sounding voice echoed through the cave, “Where’s this prodigal son?” Hearing a foot step at the entrance made Marty whirl around, coming face to face with the hell priest Deag Nilox.

“PRIEST OH!” Marty fell to his knees, Mez was close after her bow deeper and far more practiced compared to his.

“Is that the man? The one who took enough powder to kill an army and lived?” He reached out an ugly deformed arm.

“Yes, it’s him.” Marty rose to his feet and positioned himself between the priest and the man.

“I’ve brought a gift. His throat must be destroyed from all that powder. Take this.” He handed Marty a strange metal cylinder. “Replace his old throat with this. I’m excited to see if I will improve his condition.”

“He’ll heal, that's not necessary.” Marty stood up for the man. “He’s already undergone an experimental treatment; we wouldn't want to stress him out further.”

The priest seemed angry for a second; then, he rolled his eyes and handed Marty a small glass jar. “Oh fine you all don’t want to have any fun. The other priests actually sent me down here to give you this. It’s something that helps sentinels when they have sore throats.”

Marty grabbed the jar out of his hands, pissed that the priest actually wanted to implant a new experimental trachea in a near dying man.

The priest turned and left them taking the metal trachea with him.

“Should we even trust this shit?” Marty waved the jar around.

Mez seemed to weigh the options, “The priests usually know what is best.”

“Wait. Give it to me.” The man reached out from his hollow and happily took the jar from Marty. He opened it up and sniffed its contents. The scent of burnt flesh and charred cartilage filled his lungs. He coughed and gasped realizing it was he was smelling the remains of his nose.

Marty seemed disturbed while he watched that realization cross over the man’s face, “How about you just give it a lick.”

Mez seemed equally as uncomfortable. Watching sentinels die that she barely knew was one thing but watching this man struggle to smell anything past his own charred flesh... She spoke softly, “Yeah just give it a taste.” He should have had her ‘medicine’ the second he was laid down in the alcove.

The man’s shock and terror had worn off. He dipped a finger in the strange substance and licked it off, “Oh...”

Marty sat down by the hollow and leaned in, “What is it?”

His face brightened, “Oh it’s honey! I’ll actually be able to eat this!” He wolfed the sticky globs down and licked the jar clean.

After eating and cleaning off his sticky hands, the man laid in his hollow, staring at the wall, feeling the surprisingly cool night air against his skin. Marty and Mez had gone to sleep a while ago but he stayed up pondering his decisions. He went into the program so confident he’d become a marauder. After seeing that man die next to him in the radiation and smelling his own rotting charred skin, he wasn’t so sure it was going to be as easy as he thought.

This was his only shot at a new life, he was in too deep now to pull out. Even if it was unrealistic to become a marauder, hell if it even was impossible, he’d still try. He spoke to himself in a soft voice cementing his little pep talk inside his mind,

“I’m going to become a marauder. Nothing will stop me.”

From somewhere within the deep cave Mez called out, “You son of a bitch stop talking it’s almost midnight!”

He rolled over and looked into the darkness, “Sorry!” Then, he whispered ever more quietly, “Nothing will stop me.”

Chapter 32: ...Is to Be Changed

Summary:

Part 2 of the marauder’s backstory

Notes:

It’s been a whole year. Thank you everyone.

This story will continue and be getting a rewrite in the coming future cause some of the early chapters are a bit messy.

We are nearing the end of the first arc of the fic and it’s been such a fun journey. Each one of TAG will have its own arc with new characters so don’t worry this fic isn’t ending anytime soon.

Two weeks had passed since the man had taken the powder, becoming a sensation among the higher ups of the program.

A priest talked to Marty and Mez in a hushed tone at the entrance of the cave, casting disdainful glances at the man who was sitting on a chair leaning over the counter.

The man of course didn’t care about the glaring stares and gossiping tongues. He was too focused admiring himself in a small handheld mirror. He really looked like a demon, not an undead zombie with rotting blistered skin, no, a true demon. His skin had finally healed from the radiation but it wasn’t its usual tan color, it was gray and ash colored in some parts it even looked white and translucent. Even better, he had put back on the weight he lost after his lips were burnt and the pounds he lost during the radiation. Despite not looking like a skeleton in his body, his face looked like a skull the way his eyes were bloodshot and sunken in. His nose and lips were beyond repair though, making him truly look like a skull. A few days ago the small amount of hair he did have had fallen out in clumps, now he was entirely hairless over his whole body. It felt odd, especially his crotch, and he had to keep shifting and squirming on this seat to stay comfortable.

The priest suddenly turned and left, catching the man’s attention. “What did he say? He looked pissed.”

“One of the stage two sentinels escaped.” Mez cast a worried look at the entrance of the cave, “They told us to keep a lookout and not leave the cave.”

“What do you mean by escape? Like ‘I’m leaving cause this place is scary’ escape or he went full on berserk escape?”

“He tore off a hell knight’s face and scurried off, but it’s nothing to be worried about cause they said he ran off in the opposite direction of our cave.” Marty shrugged and walked over to the counter, “It happens sometimes with the program.”

“So do we have to stay inside all day and hide? I can’t even go out on the bridge?” The man pushed his mirror off to the side. The past few days Marty and Mez allowed him to explore the bridge that connected their cave to the tunnel that went into the city. Honestly, it felt childish being merely allowed to explore around the cave and bridge, but he absolutely loved basking in the open warm air out on the bridge in the hellish sunlight that came from a large crack in the roof.

Marty chuckled, his mandibles shaking, “We are supposed to stay here but me, you, and Mez are gonna do some training on the cave floor.”

“Training!” The marauder grinned, pulling back the remnants of his lips showing off his two big fangs.

“Yep.” Mez glanced at Marty, “We better hightail it down there before the hell priests come back.” She lingered near the entrance of the cave, unwilling to leave them defenseless.

“Fuck I forgot about their nightly rounds. We’ll hurry.” Marty tossed the man an actual pair of shorts, not like the primitive loin cloth around his waist.

“Oooh pants.” He pulled them over his loin cloth and then untied it. Trying to preserve his modesty during the switcheroo

Marty looked impressed at the switch, “That was like a magic trick. Pants go on, loincloths go off!”

Mez was still standing at the very entrance of the cave, “Boys, let’s head out now and stop admiring loincloths. Ugh...”

Surprisingly, it didn’t take them very long to get to the bottom of the abyss. There was an elevator set into the stone just big enough for the trio to squeeze into it.

Marty decided to ramble on about the construction of the many elevators lining the caves, something about them being a very advanced piece of hell technology that is rarely passed down to the lower class areas.

The marauder was too busy admiring the elevator. Red metal and gold filigree adorned the inside and the parts of the outside that were visible through large holes in the ceiling of the elevator. “Whoa! You can see how it works.” Various cords and gears far above his head ground and creaked. “I bet you could crawl up there. That would be so cool.”

Marty glared at him, “Were you even paying attention to me?”

“No one gives a shit about the history of an elevator.” Mez rolled her eyes, but also lovingly patted his shoulder with a sympathetic look.

The elevator stopped with a loud clang and the doors opened. Marty stepped out slowly, prepared to bolt back inside if he saw danger. “It’s on, the coast is clear. Come on out.” Mez and the man followed after Marty. The bottom of the cave was made out of sand and small chunks of rocks. Most of the floor was shrouded in darkness but there were a few patches of sunlight that managed to touch the floor. Marty led them to one and nodded. “This is where we’ll train.”

Mez stepped into the sunlight coaxing the man into its warm, “We want to test your endurance and see how healthy you are. Best out of three, go get Marty. Fight.” She very much hoped the demon would keel over from over exerting himself.

The man didn’t hesitate . He couldn’t waste another chance to prove himself. He sprinted across the sunny arena and plowed into Marty, whisking the demon off his feet and slamming him into the ground.

Mez ran over and ripped the man off the demon. For once, her voice sounded excited, “Holy shit! You’re strong.”

They fought again and again. Sometimes it was Marty against the man, sometimes it was Mez and sometimes Marty and Mez went against each other to give the man some pointers.

The man excelled. The weakness Marty and Mez had expected wasn’t there at all, in fact, he was stronger than they could have ever imagined.

Just as the man was about to land an impressively powerful punch to Marty’s jaw, he was stopped by an angry voice.

“What do you think you're doing outside of your cave?!” An angry hell priest was exiting the elevator with an ugly frown on his even uglier face. He strode forwards yelling at Marty and Mez for being irresponsible. “That man is a near perfect specimen and you risk his life pointlessly!” He whipped his head in the direction of the man, “Go into the elevator now.”

“No, I'm staying with Marty and Mez! Fuck off!” He stood his ground. Some old smelly priest wasn’t going to tell him what to do.

In a second, the priest was behind him, the man couldn’t comprehend how he moved so fast, besides from sort of Hellish magic. Before he could dodge, the priest pierced his neck with a syringe, injecting him with something. “This should make you more compliant! Now Marty...”

The man couldn’t hear the rest of the conversation. He stood clutching his neck with a look of absolute horror on his face with his eyesight fading in and out. His tongue felt limp and his limbs moved in slow motion.

Mez put a comforting hand on the man, “It’s ok just a tranquilizer. You’re fine. It’s just falling asleep, so peaceful.”

He looked down and caught a glimpse of her face before his eye sight faded again. Suddenly, a spike of adrenaline rushed through his system. He just saw something.

A clawed hand reached out and grabbed his face, ripping him far into the shadows. He bit down hard on the finger in his mouth and tried to kick the creature in the side. He was too slow; the creature was already behind him, grabbing his head and titling it back to reveal his gray throat.

The man spun around and pushed off the chest of the creature only to find it wasn’t a creature at all it was the transformed man.

Blood and viscera dropped from his jaws and fingers. Gnarled half formed horns curled around his head, hiding his face except for his eyes and mouth. Even more horns sprouted out of his shoulders and arms, the skin pulled painfully tight between each spike of cartilage. He was in so much pain he went insane.

The marauder felt the effects of the tranq hit him again, but he squared up with the beast, ready to fight.

The beast let out an unholy roar and charged, making the man lunge out of the way. He couldn’t move fast enough; his feet betrayed him. The beast hit his side, sending him flying into the open elevator. It charged after him following him into the elevator.

It pressed its face against the terrified man’s face, dripping bloody saliva onto his sunken cheek. He wasn’t going to give up despite the tranq pulling at his mind and limbs. With a sharp kick to the beast’s exposed stomach he escaped. The elevator door had already closed. He slammed his fist on the closed door, “MARTY!” He felt so dizzy and sick. He couldn’t hear a response from outside of the elevator. The beast was getting up right behind him.

He had to fight.

He whirled around punching the beast’s face. His left hand made an awful snapping noise as it connected with the horns and he doubled over in pain. His hand was shattered, it had to be.

The beast swung its arm. It was dazed but still was full of bloodlust.

The man leaped into the air dodging the swipe and landed squarely on the creature's horned shoulders. He realized the large open holes in the ceiling were just big enough for him to squeeze through and leapt up. His hands grabbed the red metal; his abs and biceps flexed as he pulled himself to safety, wriggling out of the hole and clinging onto the sides of the elevator shaft. He looked around, panicking he had no weapons, his left hand was broken, how the hell was he going to kill that beast? The exposed spot on the front of its neck was only big enough for the thickness of a finger to get in. If he had a sword... or an axe... he looked down at his pants. His waist band would be able to slide into the exposed neck and he could strangle the beast...

He ripped his pants off and tested if they’d be able to withstand the force. It would probably work if he landed just right on the creature's back; there was no way he’d be able to reach him and yank the man off with all those painful spikes on its arm.

He leapt down into the elevator as naked as the day he was born a bastard, holding his pants in his good hand with a look of sheer determination in his face. “DIE!”

The beast snarled and whirled around trying to scratch at the door of the elevator, begging in a garbled, mutilated tongue for mercy.

The man landed on its back, slipping the fabric over the beast head and pulling them tight around his neck.

In a panic the beast ripped the door off the elevator and charged out, running around the floor of the abyss. Smashing into walls, scraping at its back, doing anything to try and rid itself of the man on its back.

Until finally it slumped over and laid still. The man still held onto the fabric. He was breathing in rushed pained gasps. His hand hurt, his face hurt. “M... Mar... Marty...”

He woke up to a fever. It felt like his body was on fire. He burst into tears; it felt like spiderwebs were stuck to his face and he swatted and clawed at the air.

Mez rushed over, “You’re ok, hush, hush.”

He rolled onto his side and clawed at the sandy stone floor below him, crawling out of the hollow. His left hand was wrapped in bandages.

“Marty! He’s up! Come help me out!” Mez tried everything to calm the man down but he was still in a panic. She wasn’t used to a patient being alive and in such pain, “MARTY!”

“I’m coming!” He teleported into the cave and knelt by the man’s side, “Lie down. I know it hurts and I know you’re scared but it’s ok.”

The man slowly relaxed, lying on his back and giving into the presence of Marty. He struggled to open his eyes and looked around. “Mez?”

The imp had taken a liking to the man, “Yes, what it is?”

The man closed his eyes and swallowed, thinking for a second he finally spoke in a rough voice, “Can you hold my hand?”

Mez gave a look to Marty but obliged the man and knelt down beside him holding his good hand. “Yes I can do that... is this ok?” What a strange request from a huge terrifying sentinel.

The man laid still for a while, his chest just barely rising and falling.

Marty gave the man’s shoulder a quick shake, “You still with us bud?”

He coughed and nodded, “I feel like shit but I’m here. Did I win against that ugly bastard?”

Marty nodded, “Yup you strangled the hell out of that poor damned soul. That tranq put you in a bad place after the adrenaline wore off. We had to give you the second dose of the transformation, it’s a little vial of purple liquid, to keep you alive. Your hand is pretty messed up too, the priest’s had to redesign your armor to have a left gauntlet to support the damage. Plus,” Marty reached out and tapped his chest, “we had to put your heart back in as well.”

Mez continued, “It’s unorthodox but it’s keeping you alive for now. Most of the time if the heart is kept inside during the third dose it doesn’t end well.”

“What does the second dose do?” The man swallowed again with his eyes closed and clutched onto mez hand.

“All boring stuff with your internal organs. It makes you feel extremely sick. It’s all because of an acid that builds up within-“

The man leapt up suddenly and dashed for the entrance of the cave. He knelt down on the bridge, gasping and shaking.

Marty and Mez rushed out, “Are you ok- ewww!”

The man was on his hands and knees hurling up everything over the edge of the bridge.

Marty sighed and looked at Mez, “At least he’s alive.”

“For now. He’s not going to survive the third transformation. It was a good run but it’s time to let him go, Marty.”

“I know.” Marty wanted to fight but it was over, now that the man had his heart back they couldn’t remove it again. In a few days the injections would kill him in a gruesome awful way. His heart would explode. For whatever reason, even Grim was unsure of it, the third dose makes the heart swell with blood until it bursts. Marty wiped a stray tear out of one of his three eyes.

The short few days flew by in Marty’s mind. Him and the man stayed up late talking and once he was feeling better they went down to the abyss and spared a little bit more. Marty even learnt the man’s name.

It was Crüe, pronounced “crew.” Marty thought it was awesome but Crüe seemed timid about it.

“It’s pretty lame.” Crüe scratched his head. “It’s like a name that’s trying too hard to be cool. My dad gave it to me, or maybe my mom.”

“Nonsense! It’s awesome!” He punched the air, “could you imagine Crüe the legendary marauder, slayer of all slayers!”

Of course it all ended when a priest came down on the fateful day with the third dose in a leather wrapped box and handed it to Marty.

He solemnly took it and walked inside. Him as Mez mixed it on the counter top, making sure the ratios were correct.

Mez whispered, “It’s all done, it's ready.” They huddled around the counter looking sad until Mez held up another syringe, “I mixed this up early this morning. If we give it to him he’ll just fall asleep and slowly pass away. No pain, no exploding hearts.”

Marty looked over his shoulder at the Crüe sitting out on the bridge looking up at the sunlight filtering in through the ceiling. He looked happy and Marty figured it would be better for that to be his final moment than writing on the ground in agony. Mez had finally won him over. He paused for a while, thinking long and hard about what to do before he nodded, slapping the table with his hands. “Ok, hand it here.” He set down the third dose and took the other syringe. “Hey Crüe it’s time.”

To his absolute horror Crüe was suddenly standing right behind him. He had heard everything, and stared down at the two demons with a look of betrayal. “You were gonna kill me!” His voice pierced the quiet veil of the cave. It would have alerted the other sentinels if they hadn’t all died on the second dose.

Mez stifled a gasp of terror, trying to salvage her plan, and reached for the syringe with the third dose, “Oh this one was just an extra they sent us. Silly priests, right?”

He lunged over the counter tackling Mez, slicing her face wide open with a wild swipe at the air, prying the dose out of her hand. He ripped the cap off the shot and buried it right into his neck, forcing the needle between two vertebrae.

Pain exploded through every nerve of his body. He screamed until his lungs gave out. Dark purple veins expanded across his chest stemming from his heart. He whirled around to face Marty, his eyes bursting into a bright red glow.

Mez sobbed in pain and scrambled away, holding her hand to the mangled flaps of skin hanging off her face, “We wanted to make it peaceful!”

Marty grabbed an extremely bloody Mez and teleported to the entrance of the cave, holding her close to him. “I tried to save you from yourself. I know I’ll be digging your grave in an hour.” Marty teleported away, taking Mez with him.

“BURN IN HELL!” His voice sounded awful and distorted, more demonic and screeching by the second. A sudden sharp pain in his head brought him to his knees. It was unlike anything he’d ever felt. A sheer overwhelming pain shooting directly into the painfully delicate sensitive nerves of his brain.

The pain worked down to his jaw and across the top of his head. He grabbed at his skull hoping to calm the unceasing agony. Just as his hand touched the skin it was pierced, sending blood and chunks of skin down his face. It actually helped with the pain. He quickly clawed at the other side of his head with his hand letting his skin get impaled. He scratched at the very top of his head. He could feel three sharp spikes trying to poke through his skin but they couldn’t pierce through.

He wailed in pain, curling up, tears and blood streaming down his face. He wasn’t going to let Marty be right. He was going to survive.

Pulling himself up, he stood beside the counter. There was a small razor blade sitting on top of the syringe case. He lunged for it and slit the top of his head open. Relief flooded through his body just as the blood flowed down his face. The three tiny horns revealed themselves to the air, still nestled in the meat and flesh of the man's scalp.

The two aching spots on the side of his face erupted, impaling the red tortured skin. He roared in pain. Everything started to get blurry. He felt awful, the pain just hurt too much. He couldn’t bear it anymore; his throat was too hoarse to even scream. He closed his eyes and rested his newly horned head on the ground.

He heard the sound of a dozen demons rushing into the room yelling out orders for medicine, rolling him onto his back as his body began seizing up, it all felt so distant.

He saw a demon that looked like they were wearing priest clothes. Their blurry face spoke some calming intelligible words, and prayed with the man as the demon’s around him tried to stabilize him.

He did it. He was finally a marauder.

Then he passed out.

“When I woke up Marty and Mez were gone. They ran off, no one could find them. Grim himself led some of the searches for them.” The marauder paused for a moment, fiddling with the tips of his lower horns. “To think how small my horns were when I first got them. They’ve grown a lot, and I have too.”

‘That’s a hell of a backstory.’ The Slayer didn’t know what to say. There were so many twists and turns and so much pain the marauder had to suffer.

“What do you think about what Marty and Mez did to me? I have such mixed feelings about them, Marty was all over the place, it was like Mez controlled him.” He slowly sat down beside the Slayer, feeling awful. “I was so close, why would they try to kill me then?”

The Slayer wrapped a big hefty arm around the marauder as comfort but didn’t offer any conversation.

The marauder looked up at Samuel, wanting his opinion.

The robot fiddled with his hands, he couldn’t believe the wealth of information he had just received about demonic transformation, he was quickly trying to catalog all the information to sort through later, “I… I think they cared about you in some way, like a friend, and they wanted you to pass with dignity rather than whatever would happen if your transformation went wrong.” He shook his head, “If I had to guess I think that foul monster you fought would have likely been your future.”

Daisy just buried her head into the marauder’s lap, trying to distract from the story and comfort him.

“The Hell priests told me later about how all of Mez’s sentinels would die as soon as they went into her care, they let me look at their investigation.” The marauder leaned into the man’s and Daisy’s warmth.

“An angel of death.” Samuel spoke softly.

He nodded, “Thanks for listening to me, all of you. I know I probably talk too much sometimes.”

‘No!’ The Slayer butted his head against the marauder’s neck, ‘I like listening to you talk and about all the stuff you’ve gone through in hell.’

“I too am glad. This is more information about demon transformations than the UAC ever collected.” Samuel seemed especially incited about that and happily drummed his fingers against the metal legs.

“And that’s why I have such a weird scar right over my heart,” he pointed at his breastplate, “They pulled my ribs apart to get to my heart and they said putting it back in was messy.” He laid his head against the smooth Urdak rocks behind him. He was tired after pouring out all his emotions and history like that.

Daisy stretched out, unfurling her wings from the marauder’s lap. She gave a gentle nibble to the demon’s fingers.

He petted her armored head, “Good Daisy.”

‘Crüe?’ He held up the note cautiously unsure if the demon meant to reveal his name, but he thought ignoring it would also be rude.

The marauder sighed and only glanced at it for a second, “Yes that is my real name. I wouldn’t mind if you use it, I’d actually like it. It beats Mr. Marauder. Just don’t use it and fuck off like Marty did.”

The Slayer grinned under his helmet, ‘Thank you, Crüe.’ He felt giddy, ‘I promise I won’t ever leave you.’

Samuel watched, so interested, so enthralled with the two. No wonder Vega liked them; it was like watching a good sitcom. The two heavily armored men danced around their emotions like ballerinas to avoid the little four letter word: L-O-V-E.

“What’s your name?” Crüe looked down and made eye contact through the Slayer’s visor.

The Slayer paused, he shut his eyes and gave a solid attempt trying to think of it. The only thing he could dredge up was a vague memory of his mother leaning over a counter looking at him. He couldn’t see her face. The whole memory was so faded he could only see a glowing white where his brain couldn’t remember what to fill in. He opened them slowly, and wrote, ‘I can’t remember anymore.’

Samuel’s tablet beeped and Daisy bolted out of their laps. “I’ll go check if this is a false alarm, or if it’s time for you all to get to work.” He walked down a small trail to get to an overlook that would allow him to see any incoming ships, Daisy was right on his heels snapping her jaws excitedly.

Once they were both gone, Crüe felt the Slayer hand him a note, he looked down to see, ‘You wanna see my face?’ The man felt bad he didn’t have a name to share after the demon had revealed so much.

Crüe reached over, placing his hands on either side of the Slayer’s helmet, and very slowly he began lifting upwards. He was ready for the man to back out at the last moment.

The Slayer clamped one of his hands over the marauder’s eyes, but he allowed the demon to remove his helmet. The Slayer watched as the Crüe slowly caressed the sides of his face. His clawed finger tips slowly traced his jawline and the outline of his nose.

“Will I get to see your face one day?” He wished he could see through the man’s hand that was firmly planted over his eyes. The marauder continued touching the Slayer’s face and he carefully leaned in, using his hands to guide himself and kissed the man, pulling back.

For a split second the Slayer let Crüe peek through his fingers. He toyed with the demon and quickly closed the gap between his fingers.

Crüe gasped like he had just seen the secrets of the gods. It was so fast he just saw a scarred nose and a bit of blonde hair. Yet his face was bright red from blush. “You’re beautiful!”

The Slayer just smiled and gave a short little laugh, putting his helmet back on. He slowly took his hand off Crüe’s face. ‘One day you can see my whole face, I promise.’ He still wasn’t quite sure why he wasn’t ready to reveal his face to the world, it had been eons since he walked around without being fully covered. The helmet made him feel comfortable, in a way it was the face he was most familiar seeing, not the fleshy thing that was underneath it.

Out of nowhere Samuel spoke, evidently he had walked back over into their little make out sesh, “Sorry for the... interruption.” They both looked guilty and Samuel almost gagged at the two of them, “You should be heading down to the cathedral soon as well. The heart is almost there.”

Just as he finished speaking a large archangel flew past, rumbling the ground with its impressive presence. It looked like a building or a spaceship but it was alive. A creature of Urdak beyond comprehension. It landed momentarily at the cathedral then rose into the sky and flew off.

‘Let’s head out. We have an icon to kill.’ The Slayer armed himself with his shotgun.

Notes:

Woo only only 32 chapters in and finally revealing his name.

Update 2025: Also It is supposed to Crüe not Crue. Let me know in the comments if you spot a mistake in one of the chapters, you will be rewarded with the highest honor I can bestow (A kind AO3 comment).

Your Pal,
CornFlake

Chapter 33: The Various Horrors of a Decaying Heaven

Crüe, Daisy, Samuel and the Slayer walked to the edge of the island. A steep cliff leading directly down into the abyss blocked their movement forwards.

‘How are we getting to the other island?’ The Slayer turned and held up a note to Samuel.

“Here, walk along the side of the cliff and see that disk over there?” Samuel pointed, guiding them to a small circular disk placed in the ground. It had a soft orange glow to the white Makyr metal, “Jump on that.”

The Slayer followed his directions and placed his armored boot on the disk, it sunk down into the ground with a loud grating noise and caused a bright orange circle to appear in the sky right in front of the Slayer. He leapt forwards and as soon as his body touched the orange particles, he was propelled through the air as though he was just shot through a cannon.

Crüe followed in his footsteps, leaping into the orange circle, propelling himself across the huge gap. He screamed, in terror as he was hurdled across the heavens.

Daisy simply glided along, chirping happily, right next to the screaming, shrieking demon.

Samuel went last, leaping through the ring and running several landing calculations through his mind.

The Slayer landed on his feet with a thud, sending a quiver through the ground around him. Crüe was significantly less graceful and landed in a thicket of red bushes, cursing and shouting. Samuel landed on his feet but hit the ground hard, stumbling forwards and cracking the white Maykr metal under them. Daisy landed gracefully on the Slayer’s shoulders, and rested her head on top of his.

‘Like a ballerina.’

The marauder angrily untangled a sliver branch from his horns, “Oh go eat a dick.”

Samuel's smooth voice broke through their teasing, “Hurry through that door. The Khan is beginning the ceremony.”

“Guns blazing?” The marauder asked, still in the bush trying to untangle his horns.

“Have you met the Slayer?” Samuel asked indignantly.

The Slayer offered a hand to the marauder. The demon looked up, and gladly took it, “Thanks.”

It didn’t take the trio long to navigate through the door and through the labyrinth of Maykr architecture. Behind a small rather simple door emerged a massive room with the Khan and a dozen other Maykr drones and angels at the center. They chanted and prayed to a weakly beating heart in the middle of their ritual. Their white metallic and gold bodies reflected the heavenly light.

The Khan turned her head. Her face twisted in disgust as she saw the Slayer and his group, “You…”

Samuel stared at her the same way you’d stare at your ex-boss who fired you for lighting the office building on fire. He wanted to shrink into the wall behind him, begging to god that she wouldn’t notice him. Yet he wasn’t sure why he felt those things.

Daisy pressed herself against Samuel’s leg, hoping to hide from all the terrifying angels in the room.

Crüe didn’t even hear what the Khan was saying. His face was frozen in a look of pure horror at the sight of the Icon on the other end of the massive room. Its goat-like head brushed against the ceiling and its legs disappeared far below the stage. The Slayer looked like an ant, no, a mere speck, in comparison as he stalked closer to the heart. The Khan Maykr looked like a child’s toy.

Suddenly chaos erupted; his eyes darted down from the Icon to see the Slayer impaling a knife into the heart. The Khan screamed and Maykrs flew off in every direction.

The titan roared, making everyone in the room, except the drones of course, clamp their hands over their ears. The stage snapped and crumbled in a thundering roar of rubble and dust. Maykrs were tossed off or vaporized by blinding red magic. The Khan flew off, leaving her subjects and enemies behind. They all started slipping as their half of the stage began crumbling.

A portal opened up behind him and slowly the massive beast waked through, the screams of the people of earth were heard before they ominously stopped as the portal closed.

The Slayer froze upon hearing the screams, he wouldn’t let them die again. He stared at where the portal had been, his feet rooted to the crumbling ground.

Crüe snapped out of his daze, “JUMP!” He grabbed Samuel’s hand and pulled him off the edge, trying to protect him from the rubble that fell with them. The robot was quickly running calculations to try and survive the fall. The marauder yelled, “DAISY?” He couldn’t see the little demon but suddenly felt her claws grab his back as he fell. She was able to help control their fall. Samuel made a mental note to treat that gargoyle like a queen whenever this was over.

They hit the ground hard as Daisy chirped over them worriedly. Crüe stood and yanked Sam to his feet. “Come on. There’s a bunch of demons all over here. Where’s the Slayer?”

The man landed hard beside them, his body bouncing twice as it hit the ground. It was rare for the Slayer to hesitate but when he did it would often have outcomes like this. Samuel winced feeling queasy at how his body had ragdolled but then he remembered he was the medic. He ran over and checked for a pulse. “He got knocked out from the fall.” The low growl of an Imp nearby echoed through the Samuel auditory sensors. He shook the Slayer, “WAKE UP!”

The marauder activated his axe, trying to scare off the beasts while Samuel worked.

Daisy stood up on her two back legs, tucking her wings behind her, and walked forwards, letting out a yell that sounded similar to the Slayer’s.

The demons scattered back, still they were locked on, some were terrified, was that the Slayer or was he the pile of green armor behind the strange looking Slayer?

Daisy roared again, sending them further back.

Some began hissing back at her, preparing to fight.

The marauder turned and yelled at Sam, “Get him up now!”

The demons slowly approached; there were imps, gargoyles, hell knights, mancubi, dread knights, cacodemons, whiplashes and all of them were inching forwards.

A single imp lunged at Daisy, calling her bluff. She dropped to all fours and sliced him in half with the blades of her BFG. The horde grinned, seeing through the false Slayer.

Another one lunged at the marauder, and he hacked its head off. Three more lined up getting ready to lunge.

“Come on get up.” Samuel whispered to the man, lifting his helmet up so he could see his mouth and nose. “We’re all gonna die if you don’t wake up.” He dumped water over the man’s face. “You stupid bastard.”

The Slayer’s lip twitched ever so slightly.

“The longer the Icon of sin is on earth the stronger it will become!” Samuel dug through his pack and pulled out smelling salts. He took a single packet out and crushed the covering, holding it a few inches under the man’s nose.

The strong smell hit his nose and his eyes snapped open.

Suddenly the Slayer was up, struggling to his feet to kill some fucking demons. His helmet slid down over his nose and mouth again and he took out a gun, charging past the two demons that were defending him, out into the vicious horde.

At the sight of the Slayer the demons screamed and panicked.

The Slayer saw a horde of demons hissing and screeching at him. Hell, even some of the Maykr drones were fighting alongside the demons now. He let out a feral roar and charged. The marauder followed, hurling his axe right into a Maykr drone’s head, popping it open with a satisfying noise. Daisy was following right on the heels of the Slayer and ripped open an imp’s jugular with one strike of her powerful blades.

There was nowhere to hide so Samuel ran out into the fray and grabbed the nearest imp by the head. He crushed it with the hydraulics in his hands, splattering himself with gore.

The arena was shaped like a maze, and Daisy kept getting separated from them. Even worse, her enemies were getting smarter. A whiplash had her cornered with its bright glowing hell-fire whips and an imp was wrestling with her, trying to bite at her wings.

She pulled the trigger of her BFG in the direction of the whiplash. A bright green arc of energy crackled in between the two spikes; she charged the demon and sliced the snake in half.

The Imp scurried off after seeing Daisy’s weapon in action against his comrade.

Daisy went to fly but a force knocked her out of the air. A mancubus smacked her with his arm cannon, sending her crashing into the ground. As she quickly stood as her armor absorbed most of the impact. She hissed, and whirled around to face her opponent.

The Imp from earlier returned and grabbed her neck trying to drag her forwards into the reach of the mancubus flamethrowers. She roared in pain and slammed her blades into the meat of the imps arms, severing arteries and bathing the two demons in blood.

The mancubus was now in range and activated his flame throwers, spewing a sticky napalm-like substance. Daisy leapt into the air, dodging the goopy flames. She hovered just above the demon. The mancubus tried blasting her with the goop but instead covered his gluttonous body in napalm. As he screeched and waved his arm cannons against the fire sprouting from his body, he spread even more of the fuel over himself. As she hovered, enjoying the bonfire of fat, she was finally able to locate Crüe.

He was grappling a revenant. The half rotted skeleton was screeching in his face, covering him in stinky red saliva. His eyes went wide as the two rocket launchers on its back revved up, glowing a bright cherry red.

Before the revenant could fire Daisy swooped in taking out the cannons with the sharp blades on her BFG.

“Thanks Daisy!”

She looked over her shoulder as she glided past to see the fight move into the favor of the marauder as he ripped one of the revenant’s arms off and beat the demon with them.

She saw Samuel hanging back, trying to avoid as much fighting as he could, but when a prowler spotted him and charged, he kicked the beast’s legs, sending it off balance and crushed its skull under his foot. She was glad that for once he was fighting.

She searched for her Slayer and found him with his chaingun, filling every single demon in a tight hallway of the arena with lead. She landed behind him as his chain gun finally slowed. He gave her a quick nod and patted his knee, signing for her to follow.

They met up with Crüe and searched the arena for more demons. All they were able to find was the half bleeding out imp Daisy had been attacked by. The creature was slowly clawing away from a massive puddle of blood, Daisy leapt on the demon and began gnawing away, ripping flesh from the imps back. It screamed out in a desperate yell to try and escape.

The marauder ripped her off the whimpering demon, “Daisy, no!”

She hissed, baring her bloody metal mandibles to Crüe, her eyes glowing a spectacular yellow.

‘Crue, if Daisy wants to eat, let her.’ The Slayer nodded. He had never seen Daisy so ravenously hungry, now sure she had eaten that little male gargoyle a while back but even then she was timid about it afterwards. Next time they went on a mission he was gonna bring lots of food.

She simply stared at him as the marauder conceded with a dramatic huff, then continued eating.

“Keep moving the longer the Icon of Sin is on earth the stronger it will become.” Samuel, emerging from out of nowhere, put his hand on the two of their’s shoulders. “I can guide Daisy to you once she’s ready.”

The Slayer and Crüe nodded and hurried along, leaping onto ledges and damn near parkouring their way to the next arena.

Daisy continued munching on the imp. She was soon satisfied, sitting down and resting for a bit, panting heavily.

Samuel wanted so badly to quirk up an eyebrow and say something to annoy her, but he didn’t, “You know, those two dudes are quite a handful, even Vega said it… and I couldn’t help but notice you don’t have hands.”

She hissed in response and stood, following the Slayers scent. Trying to ignore his jab at her.

“When this is over I could change that.” Samuel knelt down, hoping to appear less terrifying.

She paused and turned to face him, letting him continue his proposition.

“I could fix your blades and return your hands to you.” Samuel patted the floor, “I don’t want to hurt you. I’d only require one thing in return from you.”

The idea of getting her hands back made her giddy with happiness. She chirped wanting to know the single condition.

“If I fix your hands successfully, I’d like to run some scans, and collect a few tissue samples. Humanity is very dedicated at cataloging and understanding every species of demon.” Samuel stretched out his hand, “Deal? I promise I would never hurt you. The Slayer would take my brain and smash it like a grape.”

She put her blade in his hand and shook on the deal.

After a few minutes of searching, she found they had cleared out the next arena, except for a single doom hunter.

“I got him!” Crüe sprinted forwards and buried his axe into the creature’s head, melting through its shield and killing it instantly. As the demon's corpse fell to the ground he walked over to the Slayer happy as a clam, “That was pretty cool, eh?”

‘Come on doofus.’ He grabbed the marauder by one of the large curved horns on his head and pulled him along to the next door. He was impressed that the demon’s axe could glean through a doom hunter like that.

Daisy landed beside them covered in the imp's blood. Samuel followed, typing something up on his tablet. She looked apologetic. And butted her head against Crüe’s leg.

He looked down, confused, “What do you want Daisy?”

She nibbled at the armor on his leg.

“Bitch, are you trying to eat me now?”

The Slayer huffed angrily and flicked the side of the demon's head with his strong fingers.

“I’m not apologizing, it's a legitimate question at this point.” The marauder snarled back with a good bit of attitude.

Samuel chuckled at their argument, “Watch out Crue, don’t be too mean to the Slayer or he’ll have you neutered.”

He rolled his eyes at Samuel, “I’m not a pet. Fuck off.”

Samuel teased him back, “You’re his little Doom pet.”

He held up a middle finger at the robot.

The Slayer brushed his hand against Crüe’s as he knelt down beside Daisy, checking to see if she was alright. They had been fighting for so long he was worried the little demon might be getting tired.

She leaned into the pat, happy to have the attention.

Samuel interrupted them, “We have to configure the teleporter rings. The longer the Icon of Sin is on earth the stronger it will become.”

The Slayer wanted to spite Samuel for saying the same thing over and over again and just stand in one place until his armor rusted off his body, but the humans were too valuable to risk. He motioned with his hand and they all followed him.

They fought through horde after horde of demons. Until they got to the first teleporter ring control station.

As the Slayer stepped up and placed the small metal puck Vega was inside into the Maykr machine, he was greeted with an awful realization.

“I see now... Samuel, am I the father?” Vega’s voice was distorted beyond recognition.

If that information was important Crüe couldn’t tell by the blank stare the Slayer gave the console. He continued the fight, storming out of the Maykr station. He needed a demon’s skull to crush. Luckily two cacodemons came floating right over to him. The marauder watched as he took out his rage on the two beasts, tearing them apart with his bare hands.

“Same some for the rest of the demons, dear.” Crüe touched the man’s arm.

He whirled around and faced Samuel, writing angrily in his notebook, ‘I THOUGHT YOU CREATED VEGA! WHAT DOES HE MEAN HE'S THE FATHER, THE GOD?’’

Samuel winced and backed off from the man. He spoke in a rehearsed way, “I used parts from the Father to make Vega. He’s still your little buddy. I just needed more computing power. It’s like… a golem.”

‘A golem?’ The Slayer narrowed his eyes.

“A super computer that runs off neural tissue.” Samuel explained more slowly, suddenly confused on where that definition had come from.

‘How did you do that?’ He didn’t understand technology, as Vega or Samuel did, but that didn’t make sense to him.

Samuel froze and looked dumbfounded, his optic looking at the floor before glancing back up at the Slayer, “I don’t know, I don’t remember.”

‘Where did you get the Father from?’ The Slayer felt fear run through him, who had he been talking to for the past few months?

Samuel started pacing, concerned, “I don’t remember. How do I not remember any of that?”

“Did the transfer mess up your memory?” The marauder offered.

“I invented Vega long after my transfer. Unless I didn’t invent him.” Samuel shook his head, “Where did he come from?”

They all stood in shock. The Slayer's face was red and puffy under his helmet, from rage and barely held back tears. ‘Are we gonna be able to get him back one day?’

“Yes, of course.” Samuel felt the words echo out from his speakers, they bastardized the truth but they worked to calm the Slayer down. He wasn’t even sure what Vega was anymore, let alone if he could be retrieved.

“See then it’s all gonna be ok. We can get Vega back, he’ll be able to tell us everything.” Crüe patted the Slayer, and leaned in, leaving Sam out of the conversation, and he whispered, “Are you ok?”

The Slayer nodded and squeezed his arm.

They stepped on another large circular pad that activated the orange rings, quickly getting across a large gap and to the two other teleporter rings.

As they were about to walk over to the two pads a flame shot past the trio’s heads. The Slayer whirled around expecting to see a rogue Imp, but instead was greeted with the tallest archville he’d ever seen.

Daisy ran behind Samuel and let out a blood curdling scream. It sounded almost humanoid like a child’s wailing.

Crüe starred upwards, horror washing over his face. At first he almost thought it was Grim but the demon luckily only started summoning all sorts of unholy creatures around him. No monologuing or unholy abominations thank the wraiths.

The Slayer immediately unloaded a BFG round into the creature, sending the demon stumbling backwards and finishing him off with a slice to the neck. He was shaking. His instincts had never jumped into action so fast. ‘Are you ok?’ He looked back at Crüe, Samuel, and Daisy who were all horrified.

Crüe nodded, “Yeah that just… surprised me. Shit, you wasted BFG ammo.”

‘No I definitely needed to use it there.’ The Slayer gave a weak chuckle. Sometimes he had to bite the bullet and fire that absolutely lovely gun sometimes.

Daisy let out another nervous scream and ran over to the Slayer. It made the man’s heart nearly drop out of his chest. She was shaking so badly and just kept yelping and wailing.

He knelt down and scooped her up, she clutched onto him like he was a rock in a turbulent sea, and made the most pitiful sad noises. He comforted her with his gauntleted hands, petting her head.

She head butted his chest and pressed the side of her face into him, desperate to be as close as she could.

He cradled her and stood up, letting her perch on his shoulders.

They were all quiet for a moment, Samuel horrified at seeing his first Archvile in person, the marauder still trying to catch his breath and let his heart rate calm down, and Daisy who stood on her Slayer’s shoulders in pensive silence.

Crüe broke the silence and looked over to the two pads, “Let’s keep going. I bet we could each take a ring.”

The Slayer quirked up an eyebrow. He had never had someone offer to go off on their own and fight the demons for him. ‘We could do that.’

The marauder grinned, “Which side will you take?”

‘Left. I’ll take the purple ring.’ He grinned thinking of all the demon guts he would be covered in soon. He really loved his job.

“I’ll take the right one! Haru’s all charged up too.” He tapped his axe, bubbling with excitement.

The Slayer gave him a nervous nod back, ‘I have Daisy. We’ll meet right back here.’ He turned to Samuel, ‘Where are you gonna go?’

“I’ll stay here. If I go with one of you and the other gets injured I'd be too far away. Be quick, the longer the Icon of Sin is on earth the stronger it will become.” He sat down on the ground, watching them sprint in opposite directions. Their armored boots hit the pads at the same time and they leaped into the orange hoops.

The marauder cast one last glance at his lover before turning to face whatever was hiding behind the corner.

The Slayer immediately landed into an active arena. A buff totem had to be nearby since Daisy burst into flames beside him.

Samuel pulled out his tablet and watched the Slayer through the camera Vega had installed on his chest. All he could see was the man’s two strong arms and bright red slashes of viscera. He could only hear Crüe since he hadn’t had a camera installed. The demon was grunting and swearing as the sound of his axe slicing through vertebrae filled the background.

Samuel slowly lifted his head and stared out into the endless, yet beautiful void in front of him. He sorted through old files and found nothing on Vega’s creation. He felt violated like his memory and intelligence were only facades for something else, he put the files away before he made himself ill with anxiety.

The noises of unending destruction echoed around from the speakers in the consoles. Samuel just sighed. He had no idea if they’d be able to take out the Icon. Every second it grew stronger, sure the Slayer had a team helping him but even still.

He slammed his fist against the ground in front of him leaving a cracked divot in the stone, a momentary spark of anger flooded through him. Earth was hanging in the balance and the two biggest idiots were going to try and fix it all while he wasn’t even sure who or what he was.

He unclenched his first and picked the tablet up. The sound of heavy breathing and the marauder putting Haru back in his axe hit his audio receptors.

He watched as the Slayer held up a note, the man suddenly remembering about the camera on his chest, ‘I’m done here just activated the ring.’

Samuel watched as the Slayer’s ring slowly slid into place. “Mr. Marauder- er... Crüe… Mr. Crüe? Did you activate yours?” Samuel gaze was fixated on the tablet.

Crüe let out a gasp and leaned against the console. He was so out of breath he struggled to keep himself upright. “Yeah... I’m right in front of it... damn, I had a baron chasing me around the arena forever.” He slammed his palm onto the button, activating the ring. “Got all my fucking cardio in for the month, jeez.”

Samuel heard the Slayer give a little chuckle at that. He would have rolled his eyes if he had any, “Oh dear lord. Get back to the meeting place.”

As they returned back Samuel watched the first news reports and broadcasts start to come in about the Icon. He watched as it slammed its fist into a building, sending metal and glass showering down into the streets below.

The Slayer and Crüe had made it back and gave each other a caring nod.

“Good... now let’s take that bitch out.” Samuel balled his fists as he thought about smashing the Khan Maykr’s pretty face in.

The Slayer led them into one of the buildings. They fought through a smaller horde of demons. A few odd drones and hellknights, before stumbling across the elevator that would take them up to the Khan.

A dozen bright red lasers separated them from the elevator. The Slayer gave another nod and walked into a room behind them, diving into thick purple goop, draining it, and activating a skull switch.

The marauder peered into the semi translucent goo. “What’s in there?” He could see something suspended in the goo.

Samuel and Daisy stood next to him. “I can’t tell. It’s disgusting how he swims around in the goop.”

The Slayer pulled himself out of the sticky sludge and scrambled back onto land, nearly slipping back into the goo, “KHAN.”

“What?” Smauel had no idea what he was talking about.

‘I hopped in and practically dove into that fucker’s mouth.’ He wrote out frantically.

“Ooh the corpse of an old Khan!” He laughed, “Ewww.”

Crüe gave a nervous little chuckle to that, peering into the goo, “Is it… a dead corpse?”

Samuel almost yelled at the demon for being an idiot but it was true, he came from a place where death only meant so much.

The Slayer shook like a dog splattering Daisy with specks of the sludge, pissing her off, ‘I hope so...’

Crüe gave him a little smile, “I’ve never seen you get scared before.”

“Me neither.” Samuel laughed and turned to face the now deactivated lasers.

The Slayer rolled his eyes. ‘Come on, let’s go.’ It was true he didn’t get scared often, hell even now with one of the biggest threats looming right behind those portals he would simply do what he did best:

Fight like Hell.

Notes:

The beef I have with Doom Eternal for making Vega into the Father is crazy, tho don't worry that does get fixed in this fic.

Chapter 34: The Will Of the Khan Maykr

They stepped into the elevator. Samuel was already waiting inside. The Slayer and marauder walked side by side, their boots clanking against the white metal. Daisy followed in their footsteps, her metal blades scratching.

Samuel spoke, “We must hurry, the longer the Icon of Sin is on earth the stronger it will become.”

Crüe glared at him, “Say that again and I beat you.”

“I’m just warning you that-“

“You’ve said it ten times!” He rolled his eyes, exasperated.

“Have I?” Samuel thought back.

‘I think you have dementia.’ The Slayer agreed with Crüe. ‘You’ve said that over and over again.’ He teased him.

“Well I am well into my hundreds!” He laughed, “Well actually, I'm probably the youngest one here. I'm like a spring chicken.”

The marauder rolled his eyes but wasn’t able to stifle the laughter that escaped him. “God, we are all such idiots.”

“Indeed, but I’m glad we can still joke at a time like this.” Samuel nodded.

For a brief moment the Slayer let himself look at the marauder. The past months of his life were the best he’d ever experienced in a long time…

Vega had snapped him out of his spiral of depression, forcing him to take care of himself. He made him get up and shower, brush his teeth, and find those silly pink bunny pajamas with the matching slippers.

He had found Daisy and slowly took care of her, nursing her back and gaining her trust. She became his everything. The Slayer loved her so much. From teaching her how to shoot to eating with her.

For the first time in a long time he felt like he had something to fight for, other than the humans who were too terrified to even talk to him.

Then the marauder came into his life like an angel, bringing him back to health, just as he did to Daisy. He supposed it was his good karma finally being kind to him.

They trained together, ate together, swam together, even slept together. The Slayer would often think back to them curled up in bed so close, so intimate despite the cold biting at them, yet he still didn’t realize he was in love.

And he was so tender, so kind, it was no wonder the Slayer fell, melting into his arms like an ice cube in hot chocolate.

And when they finally kissed… all the tension between them broke like a dam. How they snuggled after the act, bathing in the glow of the earth.

How they got drunk and bitter and angry and then made up, unable to bear the pain of hurting each other.

During all of this he loved how his friends were right there for him Vega, Daisy, and occasionally Samuel.

In all honesty whatever the future threw at him, he would be able to handle it as long as his team was with him.

No matter if it was in the belly of hell or the peaks of heaven. They were a team.

“You mean the world to me.”

The Slayer was yanked out of his thoughts by the marauder.

“I mean it.” He looked timid. “No matter what happens in these next few hours, we face it together.”

‘Of course.’ The Slayer stared up at Crüe. ‘It’s time to fight.’ He placed one hand on the green skull switch.

Daisy placed her bladed hand over the Slayer’s.

Crüe followed Daisy’s example.“Ready?”

“Unf!”

“Chirrrr!”

Samuel watched them and slowly reached up, flicking on a camera on his own chest that they didn’t even notice.

The skull clicked into place and they began ascending. A dozen Maykr drones burst into the room, just a few seconds too late to attack them, screeching at them in their holy language. Everything moved in slow motion to the Slayer. He slowly loaded his double barreled shotgun, carefully placing two crimson red shells into the barrels. As soon as he clicked his shotgun back together everything moved normally again.

He was ready.

He looked over at Daisy clutching her BFG, holding her jaws open, ready to rip some heads off. He then turned to the marauder, who held his battle axe over his shoulder, the demon shot him a nervous smile and the Slayer smiled back.

They were ready.

They stepped out into the arena to the Khan monologuing about how the Slayer had broken the seal of Urdak and messed up her ceremony. Honestly, the Slayer couldn’t give two shits about this traitor. She tried to play nice with so many different sides and was now shocked that her plans were falling apart.

Hell, the demons, the sentinels, the Maykrs she betrayed them all for a few more precious drops of that argent energy.

Halfway through her monologue the Slayer took out his heavy cannon and fired a single micro missile at her forehead.

It whizzed around and stuck to her forehead, exploding with all the unstoppable force of a cheap gas station firecracker.

Samuel nearly gasped at how indignant the Slayer acted, he loved it.

She let out a screech that shook Urdak, “YOU WILL PAY FOR ALL YOU’VE DONE TO DISRESPECT URDAK!”

She swooped down, nearly taking their heads right off with her flaming wings as they ducked. She then soared high up into the air and began hissing spells.

Samuel lingered at the edges of the stage, ready to kill any drones that got too close.

A beam of energy shot down from the sky melting any of the white metal it touched. The Slayer immediately locked onto her with his rocket launcher, firing three barrages of rockets at her in record speed. Smoke and dust whirled around him.

She held up her arm to try and defend herself, still yelling about the disrespect they had treated Urdak with. “YOU HAVE RUINED OUR SACRED RITUALS, AND YOU HAVE DIRTIED OUR HOLY CITIES! I WILL NOT LET IT STAND ANY LONGER!”

The marauder pulled out his axe, aiming for a second and hurled a red beam halfway across the arena, nailing the Khan right in the face.

She wailed, her armor failing her for a second.

The Slayer took the opportunity, shooting his meathook into her chest, and blood punching her, sending the Khan flying backwards.

She snapped out of her daze as her armor returned the white metal hissing and steaming as it was brought back into the fight. A few chunks of armor were missing from her shoulders. She aimed her beam at the Slayer hounding him around the arena as he desperately tried to get more ammunition for his rockets.

She turned her attention to the marauder and snarled, “YOU... A TRANSFORMED DEMON! YOU OWE YOUR POWER TO ME AND ALL OF URDAK! FIGHT THE SLAYER!”

The marauder launched two red beams from his axe at her, leaving those as a response.

She hissed and turned to Daisy leaning down to be face to face with the demon, “GARGOYLE! Fight for me! For all of hell and Urdak! Why would you risk your-” The Khan cut herself off with a horrific scream.

Daisy buried her BFG into the Khan’s shoulder, when she pulled the trigger the Khan’s flesh bubbled and burned but the orb in her chest protected her from death.

She soared back up into the air hissing and cursing, touching the burnt flesh with her alien hand.

The Slayer retrieved more ammo and locked on, shooting three rockets right into her chest, staggering her once more.

The marauder sprinted and launched himself into the air, meat hooking his way up to the Khan. He couldn’t blood punch but he lowered his head and rammed his horns into her weak spot.

He heard a cheer come from Samuel, “FUCK YEAH, RAM THAT BITCH!” Who winced at how poorly he had worded that.

The marauder pushed himself off her chest and landed beside the Slayer, who seemed extremely impressed, but not for long. As soon as she recovered, now with even more patches in her armor, the Slayer pummeled her with rockets until he was able to blood punch her again.

She soared out of their reach, the armor on her arms dangling off uselessly. Hissing and carving runes into the air she caught half the arena on fire, making the trio scramble for a less toasty spot.

The Slayer leaped into the air nailing her with ballista and precision bolt shots. Until she staggered, screeching about the Slayer. He swung his fist and knocked more armor off her, sending a rain of white metal onto the floor.

As the Slayer pushed off her he realized he overestimated his landing. Panic kicked in as he realized he wasted his jumps and dashes getting up to the Khan. His body was free falling; he couldn't move quick enough. He fell right off the Stage. Desperate, he tried grabbing onto the rocks or trees lining the arena but they were slick with the blood and goo from the Maykr drones he had killed.

The marauder ran over and just managed to grab the Slayer by his arm. The Slayer immediately turned and clutched onto the demon's forearms. He let out a ragged gasp, terrified of the abyss below, looking up at the demon he struggled to speak, “H-HELP!”

“I got you. I got you.” The marauder went to pull the man up but he was stopped by the feeling of the floor below him beginning to warm up. Suddenly it exploded into bright red hot heat. He roared in pain but refused to let go of the Slayer. He could feel the armor on his boots begin to melt, searing the skin underneath. He couldn’t pull the Slayer up; he was too heavy, and panic began to set in.

Daisy screeched and caught the Khan’s attention. The Khan turned and faced her smaller adversary.

“You’re nothing but a pet.” She turned away from Daisy, uninterested.

Daisy screeched again and took to the air. She swatted at the air as if Daisy were a mosquito, barely caring about the creature.

She flew up to the Khan and began swinging her blades into her face. They connected, slicing through the golden armor deep into the purplish skin below.

The Khan tried to pluck the demon off her face but Daisy ripped off her mask and began slicing.

Instantly the Khan released her spells, focusing on the gargoyle. She grabbed Daisy and tried prying her off.

Daisy had her mandibles buried in the flesh of the Khan and wasn’t letting go.

The marauder was finally able to drag the Slayer up now that the ground itself wasn’t on fire. As soon as the Slayer was on solid ground he was sprinting towards Daisy and the Khan.

A sickening pop echoed around the arena as Daisy dislocated the Khan's jaw.

The Slayer let out a loud scratchy yell and tossed Daisy his super shotgun.

She caught it and blasted the Khan right in the face, leaping off and gliding down to the Slayer.

The Khan soared into the air and suddenly fell in a jerky, uncoordinated way, slamming into the ground.

The Slayer walked over to make sure she was dead or dying.

“Y-you…,” she rolled from her stomach onto her side and reached one hand to her face, popping her jaw back into place, facing the Slayer. “You have broken the holy seal of Urdak. Now-“ she cut herself off to cough up a large clot of blood and let out a sickening gasp, “demons will flow into this holy place like never before. You’ve put all of creation into jeopardy.” Her mangled head hit the floor and she took her final breath. The orb inside her chest rose into the air.

Suddenly an awful mysterious voice split through the air, shaking Urdak, “NOOOOOOOOOO!”

“LET'S GET OUT OF HERE!” Samuel knew about some pretty big players in the cosmic stage but whatever that voice was was beyond anything he could even fathom. He grabbed the Slayer and pulled him forwards, “INTO THE PORTAL!”

They all ran and leapt off the side of the stage into the rings of the Portal far below them.

The searing heat hit all of them. Knocking their breath right out of their chests.

The Slayer grimaced at the thought of the coming fight.

Chapter 35: The Icon of Sin and The End of the World as We Know It

Notes:

TW: Extreme gore and lots of angst

A middle aged man sat in his office cubicle. He was frantically typing away at documents and scribbling down numbers on a piece of paper while his phone was wedged between his cheek and shoulder.

He could hardly focus on documenting causality reports when the ARC bunker he was in was shaking from the footsteps of…

He glanced up from his work at a TV across the haphazardly built office space. A huge humanoid goat creature was destroying what was left of the city. The office was abuzz around him, with some people yelling about reports and coordinates of the beast’s rampage, hoping to get some order to the divine chaos around themselves.

He looked away from the TV, it didn’t matter what demon was rampaging through humanity today, it was simply another Monday. As long as he kept telling himself that he’d be perfectly fine.

Suddenly there was a blood curdling scream from the cubicle next to him, someone else having another breakdown, undoubtedly… again… it was the third time in this hour. The two of them both worked in medicine and had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. All around them were trained ARC personnel but they weren’t trained to work under conditions like this, his only job credential that matched his work here was knowing how to use excel rather efficiently.

Of course he couldn’t really blame the poor lad next to him for cracking, The man admitted to himself that he was simply shoving his stress under layers of paper work. Trying to ignore the fact that the bunker was shaking so badly his cup of water had just spilled over his papers, making the numbers from the death count tolls merge together into some mathematical abomination.

He was pulled back to attention by the sound of his boss slapping his office neighbor, back handing the man’s face again and again until his screams turned to subdued whimpers.

He could hear her snarl nearly every swear word known to man at his neighbor, cursing him for being a worthless coward in the face of humanity’s doom. With one final slap the man could hear his neighbor slowly start typing again.

She poked her head into the man’s cubicle, “How’s it going?” She looked awful, though that was normal for her. Her eyes were a bright bloodshot and her dark hair was frizzy from hours of working nonstop. Of course, she was never much of a looker after the accident that happened a few months back.

“Oh you know nothing to complain about, Elena.” The bunker shook again and the lights flicked for a second. The man wanted to curl up and cry. He wanted to go home to his kids, and just give them all a huge hug. He wasn’t even sure if they were alive.

“Of course just another day in the office.” She walked in and stood beside his chair looking at the ruined soaking wet paper work. “I see your being very productive, I should ask the higher ups to give you a raise.” She let out a little chuckle, desperately trying to keep the man from also losing his mind, aware of his lack of training.

They all knew they were going to die if the Slayer didn’t take on the Icon soon.

“Elena, why are we still here? Why didn’t ARC evacuate us? Hell, I'm not even an office worker, I'm a surgeon!” The man hung his head, not daring to make eye contact with his boss and get slapped, as he scooted the soaking wet papers into a waste basket. His voice wavered, “I want to go home.”

She sat down on his desk pushing the only not soaked pile of papers onto the floor, scattering them around the cubicle and out into the office. “The death counts don’t matter. Just write ‘a fuckton’ in the totals column. The higher ups-”

He leapt out of his chair and the panicked typing in the neighboring cubicles went silent. “SO WE’RE JUST FODDER?”

Gasps went around the room, then screams as the bunker shook again and the lights went out for a few seconds.

“SILENCE!” Elena roared. She stood up on the man’s desk, looking over the cubicle walls in the office. “We are here because the higher ups need boots on the ground where the Icon is. We are here because the higher up’s need someone to answer if that phone rings. That is our only damn job here! And pray to god that it doesn’t ring!” She hissed.

She pointed to a red phone set in the wall. It was old fashioned something you’d see in a historical movie about the 1990s. It had a bright red caution tape above it that read, “CAUTION: EMERGENCY USE ONLY.”

Suddenly the office lights went off for a long time and a deep rumble echoed through their very cores, it was like the earth was being split in half. Then it stopped and slowly emergency power kicked back on.

As everything settled for a brief moment, to the entire office’s horror, the phone rang.

It shook gently, it’s twirly cord vibrating ever so slightly as it’s obnoxiously loud ringing tone echoed around the office.

Suddenly a young female intern who looked so pale with fear she could have been a ghost leapt up and grabbed it off the hook. Elena vaulted over the cubicle walls and took it from her hands. She stood upright, stiff as a board. “Hello this is Elena Richardson at ARC bunker 3-5-0.”

A familiar robotic voice was on the other end, “Elena… I have a favor to call in.”

After a long painful discussion, Samuel pressed the red button on his tablet screen, hanging up the phone call, and sighed, catching up with the trio. He had just organized their ride out with the ARC, if… or when they defeated the Icon. He had also organized medical records and gotten everything ready for a medical emergency. ARC had even been able to tap into the camera on Samuel’s chest.

Blood, blood, blood, another spray of guts splattered the Slayer’s chest. Samuel watched from behind him as viscera painted a whole room of the destroyed office building crimson red.

More blood, a glimpse of the marauder’s glowing axe, a blurry image of Daisy shooting past, more blood.

Samuel felt sick at looking at so much red. His lens felt strained and a headache was throbbing at his temples.

Crüe bumped into him and shouted, “Samuel! Which way?”

He examined his tablet, and then he pointed, “See that road down there? The one broken into three different pieces?”

“Let’s head down!” Crüe grabbed his axe, yanking it out of a demon’s neck.

The Slayer leapt off the edge of the building; Daisy glided down with him.

Crüe leapt after them, clicking his mask into place and letting out a battle cry.

Samuel followed slowly, leaping down onto the road. He was terrified that he was walking them to their deaths. They had run all over the city tracking the Titan down, fighting endless swarms. He hoped desperately that the Titan wasn’t up ahead, that it was two more blocks down or something, anything. He would do anything to buy the Slayer an extra minute of air in his lungs, even if the air reeked of hellish ash and burnt asphalt.

There were only a few demons on the road. They worked their way up to a large gap between two walls of hardened lava. There was a weak spot in the wall where a train had been shoved into it, Smauel blocked their passage. “Let’s wait a moment and rest-“

The Slayer shook his head, stubborn as a mule. ‘He’s right behind that wall, we have to take him down.’

Samuel sighed, “But what if you die?” What if something happens and I can’t save you. This fight is going to be…” he trailed off, “Please just sit for a second.”

The Slayer walked up to him and patted his shoulder, having to stand on his tippy toes to do so, ‘I don’t have any plans to die. Besides, the longer the Icon of Sin is on earth the stronger it will become.’

He nodded, accepting defeat and stepped aside.

The Slayer walked past him and as the marauder walked past he winked, “Hey I wanna call in my favor now.”

Samuel was confused, they remembered, when he asked the marauder he saved the robot’s ass from the wrath of the Slayer after grilling him, it seemed like forever ago even though it was only a few days. “Anything you wish.”

He leaned forwards and whispered, “If something happens to both of us, take care of the Slayer first.” He pulled away and still had a sweet smile on his face, as if he was excited to take on the Icon and hadn’t just said the most heart wrenching thing Samuel had ever heard.

Samuel's nonexistent stomach clenched, but he would honor the ‘I owe you.’ He neglected to tell the demon that he and Vega had already decided that the Slayer’s life was higher priority than any of theirs, “Of course. I promise.”

The Slayer, who hadn’t heard a thing as he was too busy examining the wall, deciding where to punch, walked over and handed Samuel his plasma rifle, ‘Do you know how to use it?’

He nodded, “In fact I worked on the design, it's probably the only gun I know how to load!” He took it grateful that he would be able to fight, yet he still couldn’t stop thinking about the looming cloud of death over them all.

The Slayer then turned and pointed at the weak spot in the wall. “R… rip… a-and… TEAR!”

They leapt forwards, the four yelling and screeching, busting through the rock and right into the biggest arena they’ve ever seen. The icon towered over everything, blocking out the black cloudy sky and covering the stage in shadows. It let out an Erdrich roar that rattled the Slayers bones and slammed its fist down.

They all bolted, following as the Slayer sprinted around the Arena. Crüe's eyes were full of panic. This icon was absolutely insane. One hit from its fist could easily kill him. He ran up to be side by side with the Slayer as the man ran around, getting a layout of the Arena, and learning the Icon’s attack patterns, “How do we take it down?”

The Slayer roared back at Crüe, “SHOOT IT!” Despite his throat screaming in pain he would have to talk for this fight. He was confident in his assessment that he had an opportunity to do some damage to the beast. He pulled out his chain gun and unloaded on the Icon. Samuel stood next to the Slayer and fired bright purple plasma from his gun.

The marauder watched his back, taking out a few rouge demons. His heart was pounding out of his chest with fear, he knew he’d be safe with the Slayer by his side.

Daisy swooped down and knocked a baron off the highest level of the arena. She felt unfazed by the Icon, she would protect her Slayer at any cost necessary.

Both the armor on the beast's upper and lower arm exploded, the metallic sounding explosion echoed around the city.

Suddenly, two barons loomed over the marauder. Daisy swooped down, growling at the demons. They backed up until they both bumped into Samuel’s and the Slayer’s backs.

The man whirled around and decapitated the two barons with a destroyer blade. Samuel yelled out a warning and leaped aside, but before the Slayer could turn around a force hit him and he marauder, luckily, it missed Daisy and Samuel. The Icon had swung its now unarmored fist, slamming the two men into a wall. It watched them tumble to the ground with its glowing red eyes.

Suddenly the beast’s vision went dark in one eye, but he realized too late that it was a third attacker.

Daisy slammed her BFG into the Icon's eye and pulled the trigger, gouging out the eye and vaporizing the armor protecting his head.

Samuel yelled to her, “MAKE SURE THEY'RE OK! I’LL KEEP HIM DISTRACTED!” He loaded the plasma rifle and ran to the other edge of the arena, annoying the beast with his shots.

She took off, flapping her wings to get down to the Slayer and marauder who sat in a crumbled pile.

Rubble was strewn around them and they were laying near each other, blacked out. Daisy howled and screeched as though she were possessed. She slapped her wings against their heads, desperately trying to wake them up.

And thank the gods that it worked. The Slayer slowly pulled himself to his feet and helped the marauder up. The demon looked shaken.

The Slayer shouted and tackled the marauder and Daisy, knocking them all to the ground as the Icon punched the air above them where they were standing just a second ago.

His voice sounded awful and ragged, “FOLLOW!” He leapt on a blue jump pad and launched himself all the way up to the top of the stage.

The Slayer launched his BFG and the arcing green orb hit the icon directly in the chest, frying the armor on his right side.

He roared out in pain as Daisy and the Marauder sprinted over to his right arm and blasted the shit out of it, blowing holes in the armor.

Smauel was on the middle deck, taking out demons and occasionally shooting the Icon when the opportunity presented itself. He sprinted over to a launch pad and shot himself up to the top deck where most of the fighting was going on, landing on the far right side. The Slayer was on the center of the deck while the marauder was on the far left side.

“HARU!” The marauder lifted his axe to the cloudy, thundering sky. An orange mist engulfed both him and Daisy as Haru erupted from his Axe, double his normal size.

He wasted no time and leapt onto the side of the Titan’s hand, scraping and clawing his way on top. He ran up the length of the Icon's right arm busting both pieces of armor.

A ghostly howl pierced that air as he leapt, teeth bared, about to take out the Titans other eye when he suddenly faded away into a orange mist.

The Slayer looked over at the marauder, as he was unloading his ballista onto the left side of the Icon's chest. Was… Haru dead?

Suddenly the marauder’s axe glowed bright orange for a second then faded back to its red.

The Slayer gave a relieved sigh, he supposed that meant Haru was still alive.

The Titan suddenly impaled the Slayer right through his abdomen with a clawed finger. Curving his finger upwards, he let a gush of blood and organs run down his hand in a stream of crimson. The Slayer let out a scream and thrashed like a worm on a hook, causing more and more viscera to escape him. The Icon simply started, pulling his hand closer to his face to get a better look at his squirming foe, but a little gargoyle blocked him, she screeched and sliced at his fingers with her blades.

Samuel just stared. He failed. His body and mind just wouldn’t react to the scene. The amount of blood… It was almost comical. It was like half the stage had been painted red. Samuel never realized the Slayer had that much blood in him. He made a half hearted attempt to cover the camera on his chest and offer the man some privacy as he died.

The Icon let out a huff, uninterested now that his enemy was dying, and flicked the mangled corpse off his finger.

The Slayer landed on the middle of the upper level. Before the marauder could run over and be by his side the Slayer stood up, despite the gore dripping down from his abdomen.

He staggered forwards and leapt forwards.

The marauder looked up realizing what the Slayer was aiming for. It was a blue soul sphere, a rare remnant from slain humans that was full of hellish energy. It hovered above the stage as if it was watching the show.

With his dying gasp, rattling his nearly hollow rib cage, the Slayer reached up to the sky and just barely grazed the blue soul sphere with his finger tips, then he fell.

The sphere suddenly came to life like a firecracker and whizzed downwards, crashing into the falling man’s chest, exploding into a thousand shards, before piercing the man’s skin sinking into the flesh below. He hit the ground with a sickening thud.

The marauder leapt off the top of the stage and ran over to the man. Terror ran through every vein in his body, “Slayer?!”

The man coughed and sat up, there wasn’t a single drop of blood on him, not a hair out of place. He was healed.

Not only was the gaping hole in his abdomen fixed, the ruined armor was as well.

Samuel leapt down from the top deck, his brain was still processing the man’s death and now he was alive again, he felt as though he just might short circuit on the battlefield.

The Icon roared and whirled around sensing its enemy once more on the mortal plane. It swatted at Daisy who was still getting revenge for her beloved Slayer. She buried her BFG into its chest and pulled the trigger, but nothing happened.

“Out of ammo” flashed red in her helmet.

She roared in frustration and tossed her BFG into the abyss below the icon. It was too much weight to carry for a fancy knife.

The Slayer ignored the marauder and walked to the very end of the stage, stretching his arms out and yelling, “I… AM… YOUR… DOOM!”

The Icon howled in rage and charged, putting his whole body into a punch aimed right at the Slayer. The man looked back at the marauder and motioned for him to hide.

Samuel sprinted towards the lower stage and hid behind a pile of rubble and demon corpses, he started pulling at wires on his chest and unhooked the camera, from his chassis. Holding it in his hand, he pointed it around the corner towards the Slayer.

The marauder backed away terrified he wanted to help the man but he just had to trust the Slayer. He dove over a stray Jersey barrier, covered his ears and waited. Daisy dove behind the barrier right beside him, ducking under his large arms. She was chirping and clicking, happy to see the Slayer alive again.

There was silence; then, It sounded like two trains crashing together, the screech of metal on metal sparks leapt into the sky. The shockwave was so powerful it nearly knocked the concrete barrier into the marauder’s back. Twisting pieces of rubble flew past their heads, it was metal so hot it steamed and bubbled when it hit the ground.

Crüe whirled around to see the damage. A cloud of smoke blocked out everything, the sky, the ground, the marauder could hardly see his hands in front of his face.

As the smoke cleared he could make out the scene.

The Slayer had both arms forwards, holding the icon's fist back with his unmatched might.

The Icon screeched and howled, trying to crush the man with its fist.

The Slayer’s breathing was erratic, his eyes were almost red from sheer rage.

The marauder saw an opportunity and took it. He sprinted over to the Slayer grabbing the man’s super shotgun and then took out his own, duel wielding them. He ran to the very edge of the stage, right beside the Icon's armored belly, and began blasting massive chunks of gore into the metal. His muscles screamed as he was plumed with the recoil of the two double barreled shotguns.

The Icon finally stopped trying to crush the Slayer as the armor on its stomach exploded, the beast doubled over in pain and cried out.

Only one piece of armor left.

The Slayer roared, a feral screech echoed around the city. He aimed for the beast's heart and fired his ballista. It punctured the armor, sending the beast staggering backwards, now the true fight began.

As the Icon stumbled away through the city, Samuel stood, sticking the camera back on his chest, he took out his tablet and opened a huge green portal. “Quickly, with its armor fully destroyed its body is now exposed!” The robot balled his fist up and raised his plasma rifle in the air, “Let’s take the portal and finish this fight.”

The Slayer, marauder, and Daisy all cheered in agreement.

Despite all the odds stacked against the Slayer and his motley crew, they were winning. Samuel almost thought he was dreaming as he felt himself jumping into the portal. He murmured, “Good luck.”

They were teleported onto the middle of a huge stage. It wasn’t tiered like the last one; it simply had a large flat area with some lower areas to hide from the Icon. The marauder suddenly grabbed the Slayer’s arm and handed him his super shotgun back, “I’ll aim for the Icon’s arms, should I try and cover you too? Stay safe, please.”

The man nodded, ‘You worry about yourself. Samuel can cover us and do crowd control. Daisy can cover us too and take out anything if you get the chance.’

Daisy let out a chirp and took to the skies, getting a vantage point of the arena.

Samuel turned and aimed his rifle, “I can hear his footsteps.”

The Slayer looked over his shoulder and watched as the Icon emerged from the foggy clouds around the stage. He must have regained his will to fight on his journey over to the other building. He slammed his now unarmored, fleshy fist onto the ground and roared.

The four leapt into action. The marauder started hurling axes at the Icon’s right arm, and Daisy started slicing the beast's left arm.

The Slayer took the middle, firing a flurry of rockets and ballista blasts and the Icon's skull. The beast roared as the meat of its head exploded into a shower of gore and blood.

Daisy flew upwards screeching, catching the monster's attention. He swung at her and she dodged out of the way, making him get his hand stuck in the half destroyed remnants of an office building.

With his arm vulnerable, Daisy dove, her bladed arm pressed in at his shoulders and she twisted down in a spiraling motion before flying off his now shredded hand.

As he freed his arm, blood splattered everywhere, his entire left arm was destroyed and dripping flesh. He clutched his head then the two ruined sections of his arm.

Daisy flew back to the stage and fought off a cyber mancubus sneaking up behind the Slayer, pulling a similar trick as she did in Urdak, making the beast roast itself alive. She disappeared into the swarm of demons on the stage, protecting her Slayer no matter the cost.

The marauder was firing at the Icon’s right arm, but then he quickly ran forwards and landed a magnificent shot from his axe on the beast's abdomen, just nearly exploding the flesh. The meat bubbled and boiled, like a sizzling steak.

Samuel backed up, drenching demons in plasma. He was doing crowd control and keeping the Slayer and marauder safe so they could focus on the real threat. He felt himself back up into something. Looking over his shoulder, he relaxed when he saw it was the Slayer.

The man gave him a nod and they stood back to back, shredding everything in their path.

The Titan roared and the marauder took out his forearm while the Slayer took out the beast’s belly.

He roared desperate and howling and grabbed at his sizzling abdomen, but before he could turn to protect his arm, the Slayer took out both chunks of flesh on the Icon’s chest.

The way he howled was awful, so terrifyingly loud and strangled. Like demon claws tearing through metal. The Icon was desperate but he had lost so much flesh… too much… Only the meat left of the Icon's upper right arm. The beast’s one good eye was lidded and it whimpered, half collapsing on the stage.

Suddenly and violently it rose up once more, and shrieked, refusing to be killed so easily.

It smashed its fists onto the stage again and again, shaking the ground so hard the Slayer’s couldn’t get a shot in and parts of the stage collapsed into rubble.

Daisy screeched and dodged a falling piece of concrete on the lower levels. She flew up, through the cloud of dust covering the stage. She couldn’t see anything, she screamed and flapped around, desperately searching for them through the rubble and dust. She got so disoriented she had to stop and hunker down, waiting for the dust to settle all while screaming for them to find her.

The stage suddenly gave out under Samuel, almost taking the Slayer with him. He felt his plasma rifle slip out of his hands as he clutched into the stage. He had to damn near crawl to get back up and stand beside the Slayer. His chassis was scratched and he could feel a painful piece of metal missing, but he felt himself beaming at the near corpse in front of them.

The Slayer looked over, spotting the marauder. Crüe was trying to run towards him but he struggled to walk through the shaking rubble. Suddenly the Titan’s hand hit him, blasting him backwards into the rubble.

The Slayers heart skipped a beat. His mind could barely process it, the way the marauder’s body flew through the air. He heard the crash of his body against the mound of rubble. Dust rose around the area, concealing the demon's fate.

The Slayer ran towards the demon, but was stopped by a hand on his shoulder.

Samuel spoke, “You have to kill the Icon first. One more shot, just one more shot. I lost my rifle, you have to do it.” He could tell the Slayer was still trying to go after the demon. His fingers dug into the man’s shoulder, pulling him closer, he shrieked into the man’s ears, “LEAVE HIM, KILL THE ICON!”

The Slayer barely moved. He raised his arm and shot the last bit of the beast’s flesh with his ballista. A sinking feeling grew in his chest.

The Icon finally collapsed. The Slayer felt his own body move in an automated way. He walked over and finished the Titan off, leaping on its arm, stabbing his crucible into the exposed brain of the beast and breaking off the hilt.

It was over but it didn’t matter anymore. He turned towards the pile of rubble he had last seen the marauder in and leapt down from the beast’s skull. The rubble shook as the Icon’s huge lifeless body settled.

He felt numb.

Everything felt like it was going dark.

Samuel ran over to him, trying to console him. “Listen just-“

A sharp pain sliced his face, side, and leg out of nowhere. It sliced through his armor like it wasn’t even there. He cried out and staggered away. The Titan’s lifeless hand had fallen a few feet from a bit of rubble. It was enough for the sharp claws to flay the man’s side open. He heard another scream and looked over, Samuel was trapped under the Titan’s hand. He thought about going over and trying to help him but he looked at the rubble where the marauder had been tossed. His whole body felt numb, he looked down to see a river of blood flowing out of his side.

It was the end. He knew it. He wanted to spend it with the marauder.

It took a while for the Slayer to find Crüe in the rubble. The sound of the ominous silence after the battle lingered in the air, it deafened the Slayer. Even the sound of Samuel screaming and apologizing to Vega for failing to protect them couldn’t raise him from his daze.

The man felt his heart leap into his throat as he finally found the demon.

He was slumped over the rubble, laying on his side. The Slayer could see the slab of concrete the demon had hit, it had cracks and chunks missing from the sheer force at which the marauder hit it. One of his horns was almost completely broken off, the other was missing half of it. The ones on the sides of his face were cracked and broken too. The blood that had run down the front and sides of his face was dotted with flecks of dust and debris.

The man struggled over to get over to him, his hand shakily pressed up against the wound on his own side. He slumped down next to the demon and threw his helmet off. The shatter of its glass visor echoed while he tried to shake the demon awake. He felt blood from the wound on his face begin dripping into his eye. He pulled the demon upright, and felt his dead weight slump against his body, his head falling forward uselessly.

 

“Get… up.”

 

“Wake up.” Tears started welling up in his eyes.

 

“Wake up now.”

 

“Come on… don’t do this.”

 

“GET UP! WAKE UP NOW! WAKE UP! WAKE UP! WAKE UP!” He couldn’t hold it back anymore. He started sobbing. It felt like barbed wire was wrapping around his throat. He couldn't breathe, he couldn’t do anything. He couldn’t save Crüe. He was hysterical. The tears running down his face mixed with sweat and blood and dirt. Slamming his head back against the concrete that killed Crue, he screamed like he was mad. It sounded desperate and hopeless, and quickly faded to more weak sobs.

He looked at the marauder again. How could he die? He couldn’t. The Slayer couldn’t bear it. He just told himself the marauder was sleeping. Yes, that was the only way he would be able to cope with his own last few moments. As long as he knew his friend, his everything was beside him, the end didn’t look so bleak.

Yeah, he was just sleeping.

The Slayer took his hand off his wound and felt blood splash down his side, but that didn’t matter, he told himself. He put his arm around the slumped body next to him. The demon felt cold. He didn’t want the marauder to be cold when he woke up.

Cause he was gonna wake up. He had to.

He almost chuckled, remembering how they snuggled together when the fortress was cold. All the blushing and blankets and warmth. A dying shiver ran through his body, he felt so cold.

Very slowly and gently he used his other hand to try and wipe the blood off his lover’s face. It didn’t work, he only smeared the blood more with the fresh blood that was on his hand.

He hoped the marauder wouldn’t be upset that they had gotten dirty when he woke up. The Slayer tried to remember to make sure to tell his lover that he had tried to clean him off, but his mind started going fuzzy.

When he looked down he was greeted with the sight of a massive puddle of blood. He wasn’t sure if it was his, the marauder, or maybe both. Breathing became a struggle. The sound of his wheezing gasps broke the sickening silence. Huge black spots began dancing in the corner of his vision. Panicking, he grabbed his lover's hand, squeezing it tightly.

Maybe it was just some electricity left in the demon’s muscles, or a reflex, even a dying twitch.

But the Slayer swore he squeezed it back.

The man went to cough, but instead vomited chunks of blood down the front of his chest. Maybe, the wound on his side was worse than he thought it had been. He looked down to check but his vision blacked out. He could smell blood and felt the cold body beside him. His ears started ringing and it felt so hard to breathe. He decided to take a quick nap. Then, he figured, the two of them would wake up together all happy. He shoved the thought of never seeing Daisy again into the back of his mind, trying desperately to tell himself he would wake up and see her. The Slayer wondered if they’d have pancakes or waffles for breakfast.

The man laid his head on the shoulder of his beloved and very slowly and carefully closed his eyes as though he wanted to pick the precise second he drifted off into his endless sleep.

White light suddenly engulfed him and he was dead.

Chapter 36: Piece by Piece

“They’re alive.”

Elena's legs gave out with relief, and she sank down against the white hospital wall behind her, covering her face with her hands. She felt sick and elated at the same time.

Samuel was already sitting on the floor, he wasn’t sure if he was laughing or trying to cry or both.

Those fucking bastards were both alive.

He felt like he was in the twilight zone. It felt so impossible, hell maybe he was dreaming.

He felt a hand touch his shoulder, and he looked up at the doctor “Thank you. I truly mean it.”

The doctor gave a quick smile and nodded, before hurrying off to rest in his office.

The surgery had lasted fifteen hours in total and that’s not even counting the time spent getting the two stable enough to work on.

The marauder had bones set that Samuel had never even heard of before. The sheer amount of trauma his body had endured was absolutely insane. When he hit the concrete he did die, technically. His brain was so swollen he couldn’t get enough oxygen to his neurons to keep them alive. Somehow he didn’t have any brain damage due to the way his horns were structured in his skull. His heart stopped but ARC had gotten there before serious damage set in.

They almost tore the city apart looking for the two, shining bring white spotlights from a fleet of helicopters over every spot of rubble. Just as the Slayer died they found the two.

The Slayer was even more of a mess than the marauder. Samuel was so glad he had called the ARC bunker and let them track their location. Luckily ARC had been waiting for the Slayer. A full staff of doctors of near every variety were practically chomping at the bit to treat the two of them. There were a few specialities Samuel thought were only made up for movies. It was ridiculous and heartwarming that the humans cared so much about the Slayer.

They had to run around the entire stage for an hour looking for his organs. All because one of his damn kidneys, encased in a chunk of fat that was sliced out by the Icon, was under a slab of concrete.

Meanwhile the Slayer was kept alive in a tangle of wires.

Once they finally got his “jiblets” back, as one doctor creepily referred to his organs. They put his body back together, piece by piece.

Samuel found it poetic in a sense. Just as he was formed piece by piece in the womb he was torn apart and formed once again. This was a new beginning for the man, a rebirth. Of course, it was also ironic that the man whose job it was to rip and tear finally got a taste of his own medicine.

Samuel sighed and slowly sat up, reaching out a mechanical hand to Elena. She took it, trying to collect herself in front of the robot.

“Walk with me. Let’s get something to eat.”

She nodded and let out a relieved sigh, “That sounds fantastic.” She paused for a second as they walked down the hallway towards the living quarters and kitchen of the base, “Dr. Samuel Hayden I do have a question.”

“Oh please Elena ask whatever you wish. I’m in your debt.” He turned to face her.

“What happened to the little gargoyle that was tagging along with them?”

Samuel stopped dead in his tracks, “JESUS CHRIST WHERE IS SHE?”

Que sheer absolute panic across the whole base. People were calling and looking for this little gargoyle everywhere. Samuel frantically ran around looking in every room for her. He didn’t know if she was dead, lost, or just hiding.

Five hours of chaos finally ended when the cook spotted her nabbing a steak from the fridge in the kitchen.

Now at 4:31 AM, an extremely tired and stressed Samuel sat in front of the vent Daisy had snuck into once she took the steak. He held out a piece of raw chicken, “Daisy come here. I know you're in there.”

After much coaxing she finally left her safe area. Her two blades slowly peeked out of the vent and she shuffled forwards. Reaching out her neck, she nibbled at the chicken while Samuel held it.

He spoke softly so as not to scare her, “Hey. They both lived. They’re recovering right now.”

She paused and looked up at him.

“Yeah it’s true. The doctors put them all back together-“

She leapt into his lap chirping and wailing. They were alive. Her Slayer was safe. She had followed the Slayer onto the helicopters ARC had landed at the arena but seeing his wounds she assumed he was gone. She thought she had failed her Slayer and hid in shame.

He found himself pulling her towards him and hugging her. Right now she meant everything to the robot. “I’m sorry I was mean to you in the past sometimes. I promise if you want I can take care of your blades and vocal cords whenever you want.

Daisy nodded and went back to nibbling the chicken.

Samuel doubted for a moment if she could understand him or not. Her tooth pricked the rubber of his fingertip. He put the chicken away and patted her head. “No more. You’re getting pudgy, you little demon.”

She chirped in complaint but could hardly be pissed at the robot bearing such great news. Slowly she got off Samuel and walked back into the vent, pleased with the condition of the Slayer and marauder.

Samuel was slightly annoyed she went back in the vent, he wouldn’t mind some company. He supposed that everything had been traumatic for her and she needed rest as well. A new chapter was opening up. Samuel slowly got up and walked to his assigned room, laying down in his bed. He didn’t have to sleep but he felt like he needed to rest.

He glanced over at the Slayer’s broken helmet resting on his nightstand, he had made sure to grab it from the arena for the man.

He’ll fix the broken visor and the slice where the Icon had opened the metal like a can opener. He’ll polish it up all good and new for the man in the morning.

He laid awake for a while, fitful bouts of sleep would come over him then leave him awake, worse off than before.

Suddenly two yellow eyes peered at him from the vent above. It was Daisy, examining the man.

He jolted at first not realizing it was her and stared up at her, “What do you need?”

Daisy chirped.

“You’re not sleeping with me. This is my bed.” He turned his head away. “Not in a million years would I cuddle with a demon.”

A few minutes later, after some puppy dog eyes and convincing chirps, Daisy was snuggled up in the robot’s arms, listening intently as he ranted, cried, and laughed about everything that had happened.

Slowly but surely he felt better, and soon his blue light faded to orange as he slept with Daisy in his arms.

Chapter 37: Picking up the Pieces

Notes:

It feels so good to finally post something new again!

“I got you applesauce.” Samuel walked into the room, closing the door behind him, “They gave me a spoon this time, very considerate of them.”

“That’s good.” Crüe’s voice was tired and strained, he was laying down in a hospital bed, a neck brace was fixed on him with special cuts made in it for his lower horns. “I feel like I’ve been lying here forever.”

He had gotten the back brace they made him wear off a few days ago and Samuel tried unsuccessfully to cheer him up with a little celebration complete with a small cake. Crüe was furious because he still was struggling to walk well between his migraines and freshly healed fractures; the last thing he felt like was celebrating.

“My head hurts.” He reached his shaky arms up and touched his broken horns, as they throbbed in pain. An aura of grainy white light had been dancing across his vision for days and a migraine no medicine could touch had taken over every waking moment.

Samuel pulled over a chair, watching the demon’s body flinch as the legs squeaked against the floor. He opened the applesauce and when the demon made no indication of reaching for it, he dipped the spoon in and held it up to his teeth.

The demon ate, and eventually grabbed the spoon and container. Forcing down bites between the waves of pain. “How is he?” He asked between bites.

Samuel wanted to relay fantastic news to Crüe, something that would snap him out of the spiral the demon had entered, but he had nothing, “He’s still asleep. It’s still early, this is to be expected with how severe his injuries are.”

“I haven’t even seen Daisy in a week.” He crumpled the empty container and handed it back to Samuel.

He threw it in the trash across the room and the marauder watched how easy the robot’s movements were, not hindered by broken bones or snapped ligaments. “I haven’t seen her for a few days, she’s in the vents. Everyone complains about hearing her run around, she took both of your injuries very hard.”

“My axe is ok? It wasn’t broken? Haru is alright?” He looked nervous as if the response to the question would change the fifth time he asked.

“Your axe and Haru are fine. They are in storage so some idiot intern doesn’t accidentally cleave themselves in half.” Samuel gave a gruff answer, he was getting annoyed at re-answering the same questions over and over again.

“I’d be a lot more comfortable if they were in here with me.” Crüe looked concerned.

“Out of the question. You’d be holding the floor hostage to get to the Slayer in a half day.” Samuel shook his head and wagged his finger, dismissing the demon.

He grinned, “Yeah probably, or I’d have Haru do it. I could attach him to my bed like a sled dog.” He laughed, the motion hurting his head, neck, and back, but feeling far better than any morphine the hospital had given him. He watched Samuel pull away and approach the door, “Are you going to see him now?”

“Yes.” The robot opened the door, letting the abrasively loud noise of the busy hallway into the room.

“Can I come, please? I’ve been walking a little bit, I can do it!” He motioned to his legs and cast on his neck. He had been on bed rest for what felt like an eternity and he felt like he was going insane. “Please.”

“Maybe tomorrow.” Samuel left him and locked the door out in the hallway, which comforted the ARC medical professionals who, unlike the UAC, had no protocols for treating demons. He walked down one room and unlocked three locks on the Slayer’s door. ARC was equally as apprehensive about the strength of their savior being turned against them if he woke up agitated. He stood preparing himself to walk into the room. Halfway through his mental pep talk he opted out of seeing the injured man and redid the latches and locks, walking down the hallway back to his office.

Ever since he became a robot he had tried his hardest to avoid emotions and sensations. While he was working to restore some of his more human feelings, he had no drive to subject himself to the same heartbreak every day over and over again.

It’s not like the man was dead or dying, yet, he was just still asleep. Samuel could only talk to an unconscious body for so long before he started to lose hope. It was draining to constantly return to the room. The nurses said the room reeked of antiseptic and the pre-digested nutrient bags he was being tube fed, though Samuel couldn’t smell it he could feel it linger heavily in the air whenever he was in there. Now the only time he went in his room was when Elena went with him.

He had lost so much blood, it damaged so much of his body, he wondered if it might be better to leave the man alone and not even risk rousing him from his coma until he fully healed. Not to mention, seeing the Slayer so weak and sickly made him feel ill. The man was hardly human and acted more like a machine than not, to see him lying motionless was unnatural and wrong. He laid back in his chair and stared at the ceiling, and spent an hour trying to listen for Daisy’s scuttling blades.

In the marauder’s room he had begun to cry. His head wasn’t getting any better despite a fresh dose of painkillers and new bandages coated in some sort of antibacterial being applied. He hated being hurt, but being alone was even worse. It wasn’t long until someone came into check on him and he begged for them to get Samuel. He couldn’t turn his head to look over at the person who walked in the room, but as they came into his peripheral he sagged with relief upon seeing Samuel. “Fuck, I’m sorry.”

“About what?” The robot scolded him, “Anyone would be upset about being laid up like this.” He didn’t pull the chair over to the demon and instead sat down across the room. “You want the TV on, or the blinds open?”

“Yeah, give me the remote.” Crüe sniffled and wiped at his face with his hands. “By the wraiths, I would kill for a shower right now.”

Samuel handed him the remote and watched as he flipped through the channels, “You had PT today right?”

The demon gave him a confused look.

“Physical therapy.”

Crüe grimaced and made a disgusted noise, “Those people. Yeah they were here.”

“You don’t sound very grateful to the people helping you walk.” Samuel crossed his legs and looked over at Crüe while he skipped past a dozen shows.

“It’s dehumanizing the things they make me do, stupid simple tasks. I know how to walk, I’m just a bit stiff.” Crüe hissed as he shut the TV off and dropped the remote on the bed, “I can’t believe I have to relearn such a basic thing!”

“Many have done it before you and many will do it after.” Samuel spoke softly remembering kind words said to him, “I had to entirely relearn to walk when I transferred to this body. I was given a task, one that had meaning but was pretty boring, it helped me stretch my muscles. I think that’s what you need.”

“I want this damn thing off too,” he pulled at his neck brace, “All my bones are healed, get me off bed rest.”

“Stop complaining! Then take it off, walk over here, and hand it to me.” Samuel glared at the marauder.

“Fine!” Crüe grabbed at his neck, undoing the clasps that held his brace on.

“Fine.” Samuel leaned back in his chair by the door, content with the fight he saw in the demon’s eyes.

Crüe stumbled and wavered as he got down off the bed and limped over, but he moved fast and much more coordinated than what was documented in any of the PT reports Samuel had read over. Everything needs a goal, a purpose. He gently set the neck brace down into the robot’s hand. He wavered as he stood, “I want to get a fucking shower.” His half lip was upturned with anger. “I’m not going back to that bed.” He saw the inch Samuel gave him and stole a mile in response.

A short walk later and the exhausted demon passed out in Samuel's bed in his room before he could get his long awaited shower. He let him sleep the night carefully monitoring him, thankful he didn’t need to sleep as much as a normal human. He read through the demon’s file a few times rereading the horrible injuries he had experienced a mere three months ago. He had no memory of anything past the first stage of the icon which was probably a blessing considering the state he was found in. With the amount of trauma to his neck, spine, and just about every long bone in his body it was a shock that he wasn’t paralyzed.

He reviewed video files of him struggling to walk through pain and bouts of dizziness, snapping at anyone who tried to help him. He had made such a dramatic recovery and the robot was proud. He powered himself down and fell asleep at his desk.

When Crüe groggily sat up in the early morning Samuel already had set the shower up for him. He stretched his arms, legs, and back and felt like a new person, he was still hesitant to try and stretch or crack his neck though. He gravitated to the shower, tearing out of the gown he had been in for weeks and washing away all the grime and pain off his body. He was halfway through his shower when he realized his migraine was finally subsiding, the aura gone entirely. He got out grabbing a towel and bundling it around his sore muscles hoping to trap the warm heat in longer.

He glanced over at the mirror, a grin on his face, he saw a battered bruised face staring back at him. Its skull-like features were covered in bright purplish spots and scabs.

He looked up and his expression turned to horror.

His horns… his beacons of demonic power… broken. The ones on the sides had both tines and tips snapped off, leaving them seeping and open. The hollow innards of his horns, laced with vascular tissue, were laid bare to the air. The two horns on the top of his head were even worse. The one was snapped off half way down and the other was almost snapped off at the base.

He tentatively reached up and touched them, wincing as his fingers touched the sensitive inside. Crüe didn’t even know what to do. Pull out the dead horn like a baby tooth? He didn’t think that was a good idea and he couldn’t bear to part with them.

If they had been broken this long, what if they were permanently stuck like this, he knew his horns had been hurt in the fight, but not this severely. The Slayer loved his horns, the man confessed his feelings only after the marauder’s horns had grown. He worried if the Slayer would even find him attractive any more.

Down in the infirmary a bolt of bright light right into his eyes was what finally woke him up. The Slayer drew in a long sharp gasp, struggling to get his bearings. Something was in his mouth and he pulled a long thin tube from his body and threw it on the floor. He held up a hand, shielding himself from the dazzling light coming from a window near the bed he was laying in. He sat up slowly, looking around as the hospital bed let out a little creak underneath him.

Everything hurt and made him wince as if he was one giant living bruise. He was in a small white sterile room with only one bed and a glass window that poured light into the otherwise dark room. There were so many tubes and wires connected to him he felt like he was back in his sarcophagus.

The Slayer looked over, curious at the room being lit up by a dazzling orange, a variety of bright hues which stabbed into his eyes, making him squint. He looked through the large window and saw something he never thought he’d see again, the sun, but not from space how it’s all sterile white just like the tiles. This sun was red and orange sitting low on the horizon with just its tip poking out beyond the curvature of earth, shooting out the most beautiful pallet of colors through the atmosphere. The sky was pink and red and orange and yellow all at once.

For a long time, all he could do was stare, as if he was hypnotized. His whole body and mind were dedicated to slowly watching the sun rise. He wanted to get up and look out the window but he was nervous… he didn’t wanna see a bloody war zone, he just wanted to see the humans happy for once. How long had he been out? Was Crüe even alive?

That last thought was too painful and he shoved it to the back of his mind, refusing to even- he felt tears prick in his eyes and he tried to focus on where he was and how long he had been sleeping. Maybe a few days? He wasn’t sure. There definitely wouldn’t have been enough time to rebuild. He sighed and crawled to the side of the bed, reaching out across to put his hands on the windowsill, opening it, and peering out. His vantage point was high up in the air bathing him in the morning sun and letting him stare at the most beautiful sight he had ever seen.

It was earth, not hell on earth, but a reclaimed earth. There were trees everywhere, the streets were flooded with clear water that had shimmering fishes swimming in it, the hideous globs of cancerous growth had died, leaving behind large stone outcroppings. Most of the buildings around him had been completely rebuilt. The best thing of all though was the people.

The Slayer spotted a group of kids, far below him, they almost looked like little ants from how high up he was. They were playing hopscotch on the freshly paved sidewalk. Their little hands were covered in multicolored chalk and their faces were plastered with huge smiles.

There were no corpses, only a few business people walking about, scientists with lab coats on break eating sandwiches. No demons, no death, no blood.

A shrill scream pierced the air, making the Slayer grab at the windowsill till his knuckles were white. He expected a demon, and panicked. How was he going to get down there fast enough? He would have to jump, but he didn’t have his armor.

Suddenly his fears were quelled. It was just one of the kids. They had scraped their knees. Someone was running over to take care of them.

He smiled out at the somewhat peaceful world his eons of suffering had produced.

In Samuel’s room he snapped at the marauder who he found was in a panic, “He will still like you!” He said exasperated. “Crüe this is ridiculous!”

He looked ready to smash the room to pieces, “You could have warned me it was this bad! He probably won’t even recognize me!”

Samuel stretched out his arms gesturing his hands violently, the small sliver of his Italian heritage taking over his body and making him speak with his hands, “I’m going to be entirely honest with you, I don’t even think he likes the horns that much. He likes YOU!”

“Really?” The demon looked at Samuel, and gently clutched his horns.

“Yes! Don’t be so dramatic Crüe,” Samuel sighed, debating if he should even tell the demon what he was about to, “This will make you feel better. He cared about you so much he got hurt because he was so focused on running over to make sure you were ok. I had to beg him to even kill the Icon. He was more worried about you than completing his mission.”

As soon as the realization set in he looked at Samuel, like he had ripped his heart out, “I’m the reason he almost died?! How the fuck was that supposed to make me feel better? What the hell is wrong with you Samuel?”

The robot tapped on his skull trying to channel his inner Vega, but failing miserably. The marauder looked two seconds away from either leaping out the still closed window or eating through Samuel’s metal chassis and the door to get out of the room. “That’s not what I meant! He loves you is what I’m trying to say! He won’t care about some stupid horn being snapped off or you walking with a limp for a few more weeks.”

“We haven’t used that word yet.” Crüe snapped back. He refused to let Samuel try and put words in the Slayer’s mouth.

The robot was having none of it and slammed his fist against the desk, “He got a fatal injury and didn’t even think about coming to me for help, he rushed over and found you, just to hold you while he drifted off.” His vocal synthesizer got jumbled at the emotion that was clogging his mind. “That’s love you don’t have to say it.”

Crüe sat down on the bed, and put his head in his hands. He was crying softly and Samuel let him have his space. He pulled back the blinds to reveal the world and bring some light to the dark room.

Crüe looked up and stared out the window in Samuel’s room. “It’s beautiful.” He was fixated on the glorious sunrise. Earth had a blue tinge to it like the sentinel world, but it also had hellishly beautiful hues. He had been on Earth before but he never had time to appreciate it. Wiping at his face, he tried to compose himself.

It was like a world built from hell and the sentinels. The best of both worlds.

He had a feeling he was going to adore this place. He turned to face Samuel, sniffling but with a smile on his face, “So this is where the humans live?”

The robot found it quite amusing that that demon was so enthralled by a simple sunrise, “Yes, earth can have its charms.”

He turned back to look at the glorious colors that were now being reflected by the glass panes of the neighboring skyscrapers, turning the world into a Swarovski crystal. He nodded, “I understand now why you dipped into hell to fuel this place.”

Samuel chuckled, “Yeah? That’s another new concern. We don’t know what we’re doing for energy now. Currently a few tons of coal and a couple of solar panels almost as old as I am are all that’s keeping this place afloat. We’ve already had a few blackouts.”

“Aren’t you rich? Can’t you just tap back into hell?” The marauder shrugged, wiping at his face, “Now that the Khan and all her little priests are dead I doubt they’ll be much pushback.”

“I had quite a bit of money but not nearly enough to rebuild the argent tower. Plus all my assets were frozen after the invasion because quite a few people were upset with me.” He stood by the window looking out at the sunrise, trying to see the same beauty in it as the marauder was experiencing.

They both stood, staring for a few long moments, “I’ll go down and check on the Slayer and officially sign you out of the hospital before the PTs send out a manhunt for you.”

“Can I come?” He asked hopefully.

“You won’t be missing anything,” Samuel assured him, “I think I said a little too much about what happened. Just stay here and rest. I’ll get you when I come back up, maybe we’ll head down and see him after.”

Shockingly Crüe agreed to those terms and sat by the window, staring out at the beauty of the human world while thinking about the Slayer. The idea of him dying and seeking out the marauder for comfort in his last moments than any sliver of real help that Samuel could provide made his heart ache. It made him feel stupid about his horns, they seemed insignificant now. He had to admit to himself that he had never been in a relationship where looks were not the priority. It was too much to handle at once and he crawled back under the covers and went to sleep.

Samuel walked down towards the Slayer’s room, waving at the nurses station and the people whomst he had become well acquainted with. Elena was sitting on a chair chatting with someone and he waved at her feeling a swell of joy in his processors upon seeing her.

“You want me to come in? I heard about the marauder up and walking around, that's great!” She stood, abandoning her conversation and striding over to Samuel.

“I just wanted to briefly visit him, and yes Crüe is rapidly improving.” Samuel waved goodbye at her and quickly undid all three locks, slipping inside. He walked in the room, and screamed when he saw the Slayer sitting up staring at him with bleary confused eyes, “CHRIST!”

He waved, his arm pulling a plethora of tubes, wires, and IVs along with the motion. His eyes darted all over looking at Samuel like a predator.

Samuel nearly slid down the wall, overwhelmed by the man being awake and alive, “H-how do you feel? I wasn’t expecting you to be awake.”

The man looked from side to side, searching for his notebook, he looked frantic and motioned to his head mimicking the marauder’s horns and his forearms motioning to Daisy’s blades.

“Both of them are fine!” He has become so convinced that the Slayer was gone he wasn’t sure how to rationalize the man sitting in front of him.

Now that his main blaring question was answered he looked around for his helmet and put his hands up hiding his face. He could feel a huge gauze pad on his left cheek and remembered how the Icon had sliced him open. With the hand that wasn’t hiding his identity he traced the path of destruction across his body. His face was a wall of gauze, his neck had some stitches and gauze, his side was wrapped tightly, and his legs were covered in staples complete with a few stitches wounds from freshly removed drainage ports.

“You don’t have to hide your face, I’ve seen it before. Vega took some pictures and showed me.”

The Slayer looked at him wide eyed and nodded. His eyes were more reminiscent of a deer than a person, big doe like things set into his face, his irises a brown only a few shades off from his brownish blondish hair. He wondered why Vega would do something like that but the AI had his reasons and he trusted him.

Samuel elected not to tell him about the multiple terabyte file packages of pictures of his face and body Vega had sent out to every ARC base computer only to be opened upon the Slayer’s death and the fact that the few minutes he was dead triggered their access to be opened. That was a topic for tomorrow, or never…

He motioned toward the chin of his own faceplate. “You look good without your helmet. You even have a bit of stubble going on.”

The Slayer immediately broke eye contact and looked away, unsure of how to handle any sort of comment about his face. He touched the exposed skin on the right side of his face and felt the familiar prickle of stubble. It wasn’t much, he estimated he had been out for a few days, he tapped his hand against his wrist as if he was wearing a watch.

Samuel didn’t catch his sign, “You know, you have a nice face… you look like my younger brother. He passed away when I was just a kid.”

The Slayer slowly took his hand off his face, blinking a few times. He wasn’t sure how to indicate his condolences so he bobbed his head awkwardly trying to get across the point he had some understanding of the pain that death brought. It was odd to think Samuel of all people, or robots, once had a family. He silently wondered if that was why Samuel out of the blue decided to talk to the marauder and act all big brother like to the Slayer.

“Oh!” He slapped his hands together and they made a jarringly loud metallic noise, “Try to speak!”

He gave the robot a timid look, his mouth moving for the first time to make him look annoyed. The Slayer was already in plenty of pain, he had no interest in further pain from his vocal cords.

“Slayer, come on.” Samuel crossed the room and sat on his bed

It made the Slayer feel oddly exposed. He wanted to cover his face again, his hand brushed over the stubble on his chin and cheek. “How long?” He froze and touched his throat, staring wide eyed at Samuel. He expected his normal voice that sounded like he was gargling gravel and getting kicked in the balls, but instead he was greeted with his normal old voice from way before he became the Doomguy.

“A gift from a laryngologist. He removed the scar tissue that was attached to your vocal cords. So now you can speak pain free.” Samuel leaned back and motioned to his neck, “The icon already had your neck sliced open and the scar tissue was complicating getting it closed so they fixed you up.”

“Time?” He spoke again, concerned.

“Speak in full sentences, you don’t have to act like a caveman any more.” Samuel shook his head and waited for the Slayer to compose what he wanted to say. The man was still working off the idea that every word was valuable, every syllable needed to be conserved to extend the length he could talk.

“How long since Icon?” He touched his throat again, shocked at the lack of pain.

Samuel thought for a moment, “It’s been right around three months since the Icon beat you into a pulp. Healing from wounds as traumatic as yours in under six months is extraordinarily impressive.” Samuel could tell that shocked him based on how wide his doe eyes got.

“I thought… two days.” He touched his stubble again.

“Ahh yes, a two day recovery time for abdominal trauma so bad the doctors thought you got hit by a train.” Samuel got off the bed, and started to rummage through a small mini fridge in the room that was stocked with food and drinks. “The medical people kept your stubble down to prevent an infection on your face. I could tell you were trying to use your stubble as some sort of redneck Aztec calendar.”

He laughed at that and it wasn’t a short wheezy thing it was an actual full, human sounding laugh. “I was confused!”

Smauel just nodded and listened. The Slayer’s voice sounded surprisingly normal for the man who had single handedly defeated all of hell. It was very masculine, but not too gruff and mean. It was very average which made him sort of endearing.

“So… ARC, right? Way better than UAC.” He looked around the room at the ARC symbols on the walls and door.

“Yes it is. The Armored Response Coalition certainly knows how to do things.” Samuel retrieved a thing of juice and a refrigerated sandwich. “Oh well I guess actually you have a feeding tube.”

The man pointed to the floor showing the skinny tube he had yanked out of himself the second his eyes opened, “That?”

Samuel sighed and unwrapped the sandwich and stuck a straw into the juice container, handing them over to the man, “Of course you started ripping everything out of you when you were unattended for three seconds.”

“I want to get out of here.” He picked at the sandwich, peeling each layer apart to ensure there wasn't anything he didn’t like on it before taking his fist and squishing it down to be as flat as it could. Only then did he stuff it in his mouth in three quick bites.

Samuel watched the man’s curious behavior and shook his head, “That actually can be arranged. Would you like to move into an apartment?”

He nodded fervently and crumpled up the wrapper of his sandwich while simultaneously drinking from the straw piercing the juice box. “Take out?” He grabbed a solid fist full of IVs and wires and got ready to yank.

“No! No, don't take it out!” Samuel shook his head, “I will go get the medical professionals they will take them out.” He rushed over to the door excited to relay the good news, but swung around and pointed a finger at the man, “If even one of them is removed I will have your ass on bed rest for another three weeks.”

The Slayer stopped fidgeting with one in his hand and nodded. The robot finally said his goodbyes, alerted the ARC medical staff that their savior had returned from the dead, and headed back up to Crüe.

The marauder was no longer curled up in bed and was instead sitting at Samuel’s desk looking over the notes and paper work he had left out. He clutched a cup of tea from the electric kettle the robot had in one hand. “How was he?” He glanced up from paperwork and started at Samuel.

The robot shooed the demon out of his chair and sat down, examining the paperwork he had laid out, “Shockingly, he finally woke up.”

“Really?!” Crüe looked ready to jump up and down with happiness if it wouldn’t destroy his freshly healed spine, “Is he ok? Is he up and writing? Can he walk? Was he upset?” He looked at the door and had half a mind to run out and see the man, “If he’s upset maybe I should go down and try to calm him down.”

“Relax, he is perfectly fine. They are getting him ready to get out of bed right now.” Samuel was shocked at the content of files the marauder was reading. He had completely skipped over classified information about the walls or weaknesses in the ARC defense. Instead the demon had at least a dozen files out that detailed how roads were paved, a driving manual, inner workings of airports and flight mechanics, and he was just about to dive into a thick tome named human traditions volume one. It was all rather boring stuff.

“Really? Out of bed already? Hell, we will probably be able to see each other by tonight!” Crüe flopped back on the bed, buzzing with excitement.

“We need to discuss two things first.” Samuel pulled out a collection of floor plans and tossed it to the demon. “You can pick out what room you’d like to share with the Slayer and we should probably discuss your horns.”

The demon sat up, looking at it. There was a room with a nice big bed, a kitchen, and a bathroom. “How about that?” He held it up.

Samuel looked down at it, “This room would be for you… and the Slayer. I recommend something that has two beds. I’m not sure how the humans would react if they knew the Slayer and a demon were sleeping together.”

The marauder wrinkled his nose, “Would the humans really be upset by that?”

Samuel shook his head, “It’s not worth the risk, it also might embarrass the Slayer. You could always change rooms later if you must.”

He sighed, “Then we could do this room.” It was basically the same layout as the first but with two small single beds instead of one large one.

“Excellent, I’ll tell them to go start preparing building C, room 117.” Samuel nodded and tapped the screen on his tablet. “As for your horns… no one here knows what to do, but I found a number on file that might be of use to you.”

He handed him a slip of paper with a few numbers on it and a single name written about them. Crüe’s eyes narrowed, “Marty? As in the prowler who tried to kill me?!” He stood up flinching at the sudden movement his spine made.

“Yes, he lives in this base. He works in the biology and genetics division and he lives in apartment building A, room 78. Hell apparently didn’t want him after what he attempted with you.”

“Wait, wait,” this was too much for the demon to process, “He lives here and works with the ARC. Like not an experiment, a worker.”

“Yes. He looks quite adorable in a lab coat. It’s an odd sight.”

The marauder felt like he wanted to crawl down to the biology and whatever department and strangle the shit out of Marty. He shook his head. “I don’t need his help. He doesn’t know I’m here, right?”

“You and the Slayer have been kept under pretty tight wraps in this hospital. Only me, the director, Elena, and a group of medical professionals know about you being here, but the majority of people think the Slayer is back up in his fortress.” Samuel nodded, “You’re safe for now. When you move to your room we’ll send out an announcement to the whole base.”

The marauder hesitantly nodded, “When you say base what do you mean? This place looks like a city.”

He made a pondering noise, “It sort of does from his angle. The buildings block it but there’s a massive wall encircling this place. The outside has a good bit of demons still left but they haven’t tried anything yet.” Samuel looked down as the tablet buzzed in his hands, “It seems the Slayer is on his way up.”

“I’ll get to see him?”

“You're both going to the same apartment, yes Crüe.” The robot grumbled at the much too excited demon and opened the door out into the hallway.

The marauder wanted to skip and dance and sing on the way to his room. He was going to see the DoomSlayer.

Notes:

Update 2025: This chapter has the Doom Pet record for amount of re-writes. It's easily undergone 10+ iterations and I'm still not 100% pleased with it. The OG chapter 37 was wild. Originally I was going to have them be in the same room and wake up at the same time leading to quite possible my favorite few lines I've ever written:

There were no corpses or pain below them, just the demon and the man standing on the balcony in their hospital gowns. Their bare asses facing Samuel as they stared out at the city from balcony.

He lost his shit.

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TWO DOING?”

Chapter 38: Now in the Light You Truly See Me

The marauder slowly walked down the halls, Samuel had a firm hand on his shoulder since he kept having bouts of dizziness from his off kilter sense of balance. His horns hurt but he was so desperate to see Slayer he was practically pulling Samuel along.

The robot had taken them a “back way” to the room. Instead of using main hallways. It was a bunch of tiny dark stairwells and dingy poorly lit metal hallways until finally a door led out into what seemed to be a main hallway. The robot looked both ways and rushed him across into a door labeled “117.”

“This is your new home for the time being.” He announced and motioned his hand out at the room.

The marauder looked around, amazed. The room he had entered was divided into two parts. The one farther from them was a large kitchen and the other one that was closer was a living room type space. The kitchen was beautiful. It had wooden cabinets and tons of black and white tiling the backsplash on the floor. There was a fridge, a stove, a microwave, an oven, and even some little appliances on the counter he wasn’t even sure what they were.

The living room was amazing as well. There was a strip of metal on the floor where the tiles of the kitchen stopped and the fluffy thick carpeting of the living room began. There was a brown leather couch with three segments and there was a TV on the same wall as the door. There was also a huge window across from the door to what the demon assumed was the bedroom.

“Isn’t it pretty? The ARC apartments are quite beautiful. Plus you have this floor mostly to yourself so you shouldn’t have many disturbances from people.”

Crüe nodded, thinking of all the stuff he was going to cook for the Slayer and Daisy. “This is amazing.” More and more stuff was starting to make sense about humans. They lived in nice homes and had the most beautiful planet he had ever seen, no wonder they dipped into hell’s resources to keep this place alive.

Samuel led him through a door in the kitchen that took him to the bedroom. Just as the robot had promised there were two beds pushed up against the same wall, instead of one, but they weren’t small in any way. One bed could probably fit both him and the Slayer and probably even Samuel.

“Oh… I suppose they weren’t single beds after all.” Samuel patted the demon’s shoulder, “You get your wish after all.”

The last place Samuel showed him was the bathroom. It was rather large with a big half moon shaped tub, a shower with a clear glass door that took up a whole corner, a toilet set in the other corner with a privacy wall, and a massive counter top with two sinks.

“Man I’ve never seen a shower that big.”

Samuel chuckled, “Oh yes it's even see through so you and the Slayer can ogle each other.”

He laughed, “Oh please we’d never do that.” He then immediately planned to do that as soon as physically possible.

A loud notification buzzed from Samuel’s tablet, he pulled it out and examined it. “Oh speak of the devil, medical says he’s on his way now. Ah- Shit! I forgot to give him a phone.”

The marauder peered at the message.

‘He’s been cleared, we are taking him through the back way.’

‘Excellent.’ Samuel replied.

The Slayer wanted to get over to Crüe and the apartment as fast as possible. Right now a handful of people were debating if he should walk or if a wheelchair was the better option. He could walk and the mere thought of walking all the way to wherever room 117 was made him want to nearly collapse with exhaustion, but he didn’t want to show a sliver of weakness in front of the humans or any demons that could be watching. “I’ll walk.”

One of the nurses that had been far, far too chipper for his liking as he helped him unhook from the IVs walked over, “Are you sure we could-”

“Walk, please.” He gave her an apologetic look but based on the sacred way she shrunk away from him it looked terrifying. “Helmet?”

A few people looked at him confused.

He cleared his throat not out of necessity but habit, “Where is my helmet?”

“Do you need it? I think Samuel has it being fixed and machined in the armory.” Some dude spoke up. “It would delay you getting to the apartment for a bit.”

The man thought for a moment. On one hand, his helmet was a symbol to these people, but on the other it made him look cold, like he was only a killing machine.

Not to mention he wasn’t quite comfortable with it being anywhere but firmly placed on his head. He liked feeling protected and as if Vega could chime in to talk with him at any time.

Though, if he went without it he could show off his wicked wound that had half his face covered and gauze, to show he could survive a titan without much more than a scratch. Besides, he couldn’t stay away from Crüe much longer without going crazy, “No, it’s fine.”

The dude nodded with a super fast paced nod hyper people do. It aggravated the Slayer for some reason, “Alrighty we’ll get someone to escort you there.”

They subbed out the job of escorting him to a small nurse in scrubs with tiny rabbits on them. He wasn’t sure if she would even be able to catch him if he got dizzy and fell, but the cute cartoon rabbits on her scrubs did keep him motivated. She opened a door that led down a long rust covered staircase, “It looks like a bit of a horror movie, but I walk home through this place every night, it’s very safe.”

The Slayer immediately was entertained by the nurse. He was fairly certain he had eaten servings of protein bigger than her in one sitting, yet she was making a valiant effort at comforting him through a spooky hallway.

She led him along glancing up at signs welded to the walls to ensure they were on the right track, “You’re going to be quite the talk for a while as soon as news breaks you are here.”

“Really?” He glanced around at the spooky hallways now that they were off the stairs and walking in an endless straight line.

“Of course, don’t be humble!” She laughed.

“You guys rebuilt the city in three months? While they were in a rather dingy underground lair right now he had seen the beauty of the outside from his window, all the children running around and people sitting and talking not being ripped apart.

She nodded, “It’s been a crazy few weeks. It’s basically construction non stop and now that it’s moved beyond the walls we’ve been running into more issues, but a small price to pay. Half the city of New York has been returned to its former glory.”

“New York? I thought it was one of the most infected places? How's it everywhere else?” He was practically vibrating with excitement that humanity would not only survive but be able to bounce back quickly.

“It shows up as one of the most heavily polluted places due to demonic markers that were set up to lure the Icon to the location. In reality, most demons were afraid to go here because they knew the world destroyer was coming.” Her voice was soothing, not annoying or hyper like the one nurse, “ARC decided to begin rebuilding efforts here, as a sort of middle finger to the remaining forces of hell.”

He nodded, already feeling tired from being awake for so long, “I like that.” The fact that after all humanity went though they were still trying to say “FUCK YOU!” to hell was exactly what he had been fighting for since he first stepped into the dark dimension.

“The most polluted places currently are Los Angeles and most parts of Europe. They got it really bad, but the cleanup is going wonderfully.”

She continued talking about the reconstruction effort with glee. He honestly didn't care how the humans rebuilt, he was just happy that they were able too.

She opened a door revealing a beautiful hallway and crossed it, opening the door to his apartment, “Welcome Doomguy, this is the best ARC has to offer.”

“Thank you,” He walked inside, now struggling against the heavy pull of gravity. He wanted to sleep for a thousand years.

The marauder was sitting on the couch and they locked eyes without the visor of a helmet blocking their view for the first time.

There were more scars than Crüe could count on the man’s face, including a fresh one that ran down the left side of his face. There was thick gauze bandaging above on his forehead and on his cheek and chin. Luckily, the wound had just missed his eye.

His hair was beautifully brownish blond, it almost looked golden when the light hit it. His skin looked blotchy and red in some places where the medical tape had been removed. Certain things about the man looked fragile, like his eyelashes and lips, but he was built like a tank. His jaw was squarish and his nose had the tiniest bit of a bend in it where the marauder could tell it had been broken and not set properly. He had a little bit of a cauliflower ear on both ears.

The nurse went to speak and list some care instructions, but Samuel walked out of the door and pulled her along, closing it and giving them some privacy.

Crüe just smiled at him, not even sure what to say. He couldn’t take his eyes off the Slayer’s beautiful face. “Hey.”

He took a few steps forward and practically collapsed on the couch. Clutching onto Crüe. He hugged him as if any moment the Icon would come back and pluck him out of his arms again.

The marauder pulled him close, feeling peace wash over him. They laid down on the couch together just staring at each other. “I missed you.”

The man nodded and then spoke. “I missed you too.” He gave a little grin, excited to see his lover’s reaction.

The Slayer’s voice sounded like music to the demon. “You have your voice back?” Crüe's eyes went wide with shock, “No more notebooks?”

“Never again.” He laughed and clutched the demon close to him, overwhelmed by seeing Crüe alive and not slumped over lifeless. After everything that happened and the uncertainty of if he’d ever even get to see the demon again, he just held on, letting emotions rush over him like a waterfall. “I thought I was gonna lose you.”

The marauder hugged the man tight burying his face into his neck, “I love you, Slayer.”

The Slayer kissed him on his lipless mouth, “I love you, Crüe.” Pressing his forehead against the demon’s not sure if his heart could take being separated from him again.

The nurse had a surprised look on her face at hearing all that though the thin apartment door.

Samuel handed her a few hundred dollar bills, “This stays between me and you.”

Notes:

I’m thinking about beginning to do bi-weekly updates…

Edit 2025: Y'all were spoiled in 2022 now you get bi-century updates

Chapter 39: Light is the Head That Doesn't Have Horns

After paying the nurse to secrecy Samuel let the two acclimate to each other for a few hours. He paced the length of his room back and forth and had the phone he planned on giving the Slayer setting on his desk. Elena had come in and excitedly talked about how happy she was that the Slayer was alive and they worked together to draft a speech announcing his presence to the base.

After three hours of waiting he couldn’t take it any longer. He strode through the city admiring the freshly poured concrete, and the large amounts of fresh water that had taken over submerged roads. Silvery fish swimming about could even be seen frolicking about what once was a highway, the clear water revealing sunken cars.

He opened the door to their apartment and stepped inside, surprised to see them still cuddled up on the couch. Crüe was laying down, his hands curled into the man’s hair. The Slayer had his head buried into the demon’s neck and laid on top of him. Between the blanket wrapped around them and how their legs and arms were tangled he wasn’t sure where one began and the other ended.

“I have a phone for you.” Samuel interrupted their snuggle pile.

The Slayer blinked awake and slowly pushed off the demon, his hair was flattened and wild in the back where Crüe’s hand had squashed it down. “Ok.” It took him a while to get off the demon and leave his warmth behind, he didn’t care about keeping up appearances with Samuel.

The robot didn’t leave until he explained the phone to the Slayer in enough detail that a caveman would be able to understand. The man didn’t politely correct him that he knew how to use a smartphone and was practically raised on them.

With the Slayer away for so long Crüe woke up, and moved down to the couch to sit beside him as if being a foot away was too far. “Fuck my horns hurt.” He laid his heavy head on the man’s shoulder and sighed.

“Call Marty.” Samuel scolded him.

“No.” His hissed back, “I’ve had horns for nearly my whole life! I know how to take care of them.” He shook his head, hissing as the cold air rushed over his horns, “I’m not calling that bastard.”

“Bad Marty?” The Slayer questioned looking between the demon and the robot.

Samuel rolled his eyes, “What other Marty do you know of? Of course it’s the prowler that tried to murder Crüe. ARC has vetted him though and he’s a good worker in the lab, personally I think he’s changed.” Samuel walked into their kitchen, seeing there were still unwrapped welcoming presents left on the counter.

“My horns are dead by now, all I have to do is yank them out, like a milk tooth!” He made the violent motion of yanking them, “Then after that they will grow back in good as new.” He looked over at the Slayer, “I’m sure this isn’t how you wanted to see me again.”

The man shook his head, “I thought I’d never see you, I prefer this.” The Slayer slowly tried pulling the marauder upright.

The demon reached up and felt his horns, trying to wiggle them like a loose tooth. It gave way and moved at but with his touch. He squeezed his eyes shut at the foreign sensation inside his head. Tears welled up, he didn’t want more excruciating pain or being a hormonal bitch for the next few days. He wanted to glue himself to the Slayer’s side and go see Daisy. He started to cry. “I don’t want to do this.”

Samuel was ready to make the offer of painkillers for the demon but the Slayer interjected.

Trying his best to comfort him, the Slayer kissed his tear covered cheek, “It will be like pulling off a bandaid.”

The demon leaned against him with a loud shaky sigh rattling his chest. “Fuck.”

“Come on.” The Slayer pulled him away from the couch and guided him with a hand on his back. He looked back at Samuel who seemed unsure if he should still be there or not and motioned him to follow.

The marauder didn’t even respond. He directed him into the bedroom then the bathroom.

“Wow this is nice,” the Slayer looked around and helped the demon sit down by the bathtub. “If you lean over the bathtub that’ll be best. Then I’ll draw you up a warm bath and we can relax.”

Samuel grabbed a towel and wrapped it over the demon's shoulders, he figured it would be comforting and help with a bloody cleanup.

He knelt and held onto the side of the crescent shaped bathtub, leaning his head over the side. With as much pathetic might he could muster he sniffled loudly, “Maybe I should get a helmet?”

“Maybe you need more than a leather strap for your nipples.” The Slayer put a loving hand on Crüe’s back and rubbed the grey flesh.

He burst into laughter and rolled his eyes at that. “Oh yeah, very funny.”

The Slayer opened a few cupboards under the large countertop of the sink until he found a little first aid kit. He opened it up and dug through it, taking out some gauze just in case he had to stop some bleeding.

Samuel peered at the demon's head, “It’s gonna be interesting to watch them grow.”

“I’m sure I’ll be in a lovely chipper mood while it happens too.” The marauder rolled his eyes. He felt squeamish about not having any horns at all, that was something he hadn’t experienced since his days as a sentinel.

“It’ll be ok.” The Slayer was hoping his chipper attitude was hiding the fact he was terrified to pull the horns out. He put both hands on the horns on the side of his face.

Samuel started counting down from three, watching the demon’s flesh tense with every decreasing number.

On one he yanked both of them out, similarly to performing a glory kill. They came out with a sickening squelch noise and a dribble of blood. He panicked and dropped them, letting them clatter for the bathtub floor, quickly holding two pieces of gauze against the bleeding.

The marauder was in so much pain he wasn’t even sure what to do, his first reaction was to vomit or pass out, but he didn’t even have enough time to do anything other than let out a few shallow gasps and curse. He squeezed his eyes shut not wanting to look at his horns in the bottom of the bathtub.

The Slayer reached up and yanked out one horn on top of his head without a countdown, dropping it to the floor of the tub as well. It was slightly unnerving how they were popping out of his skull. It made the Slayer’s skin crawl a bit.

Samuel glared at the Slayer and started to count down again.

The demon had a white knuckled grip on the tub and made a horrendous gasping noise. “God dammit just hurry up and rip out the last one!”

He grabbed the last horn that was almost broken off all the way and gave it a tug, making the demon yelp out. It popped out so did a bunch of clotted blood, laced with chunks of the broken root of the horn.

He dropped it to the bottom of the tub, grabbed a towel, and bundled the demon’s head in it like a babushka. Leaning him back until he was lying in his lap, the Slayer kissed the demon’s now bloody forehead and hushed the demon’s whimpering cries, “All done.”

The marauder was gasping again and again, grabbing onto the Slayer and trying to push him away and pull him closer at the same time. He was out of breath and scared out of his mind. He could feel his deep inner horn sockets exposed to the cold air. It felt almost like it was burning and cooling. The only comfort he had was being able to look up into the man’s big brown eyes, not a cold dark visor.

Samuel examined the scene, “I’ll go get a first aid kit, a prescription for antibiotics, and something for the pain.” He pointed at the blood stains on the towel, “We should flush those out to prevent any infection.

The Slayer agreed and waved the robot off to find what Crüe needed. He stared down at the demon. Crüe looked rather weird without his horns, almost like a completely different person. He set the still in shock marauder down. He took the remains of the horns out of the tub, cleaned it out, and ran hot water. After helping the demon take off his clothes and get in, he sat on the side of the tub. “Crüe, you ok?”

He smiled at the Slayer speaking his name, and opened his eyes, “Yeah, I just have a head rush. It felt like there was so much pressure on my skull. That last one was giving me so much pain and now it’s gone.”

“You wanna see?” He supposed that was an odd thing to ask, but they did look pretty wild.

He shook his head, “Not now. Just show me the last one, nothing else.” His nose wrinkled at the thought of seeing all his horns; he’d probably burst into tears.

The Slayer reached over and opened up the towel they were wrapped in and took out the one that had the clot. “It’s gnarly.” He cautioned.

“That’s fine.” He took it in his hands and examined it, “Yeah this would explain the pain.” The clot was double the size of an average horn root. It made him feel queasy looking at it and he handed it back to the man who hid it back in the towel quickly. “Can you cover the mirror? I don’t want to see myself without horns.”

The Slayer obeyed and draped a towel over it letting the demon know it was safe to look around. He honestly didn’t mind it being covered either, he wasn’t sure if he liked the face of the man that stood on the other side of it.

“You ok? Think I could get a shower?” The Slayer tapped the side of the tub.

“Go right ahead. I’m just gonna relax.” He leaned back against the tub, lounging with his arms resting on the sides. “Thank you.”

The Slayer went and took a shower of his own. The clear glass was slightly awkward, he felt like he was on display, but it helped him keep an eye on Crüe. He was shocked at how much had changed between them in such a short span on time.

He felt much better after a shower and picked out clean clothes for the both of them, ones that weren’t stained with sweat and horn blood.

He helped him out of the tub, and wrapped a towel around him. The demon was still quite weak after the horn removal.

“Here I just wanna put pants on, no shirt. I don’t want anything to brush past my head.”

The Slayer nodded and helped Crüe slowly dress himself in underwear and loose fitting pants. It was slightly distracting to have his flaccid cock waving down in his face, but he didn’t mind. All he cared about was Crüe. The Slayer carefully supported him as they walked, supporting his shoulders and lower back. He moved to pull the covers back and helped Crüe slide underneath. As soon as the demon was situated he rushed over to the other side, and crawled into bed.

They found each other under the covers quickly, melting into each other's gentle caresses and wandering hands. Crüe was hurting but he wrapped his arm around the man, pulling him close. “You’re so beautiful, your voice is perfect, and I’m so glad you’re ok.” Tears welled up in his eyes and freely rolled down the side of his face staining the pillows. “I’ve been sitting on bed rest just waiting for you to wake back up.” His voice was strained as he tried not to break down, “I was so worried.”

The Slayer reached out, clasping both of the demon’s hands, gently rubbing at the bruised skin. “I remember everything that happened after the Icon died… I remember seeing you hurt and...” He hesitated struggling to find the words, “Crüe I would have traded the world to heal you.”

The demon nodded, breaking down into tears. He could feel the Slayer begin crying too. They gathered each other up in their arms, twisting themselves together and softly cried into each other. Their chests brushed against each other rising and falling in the erratic breath that came along with tears of relief. Their burly arms were quickly being covered in hot tears that meant more than a thousand sweet words or kisses.

It took a while before they were able to calm back down and slowly part. Crue was exhausted, and fast asleep in no time at all, curled close to his lover.

The Slayer stayed up a little later, finding it difficult to sleep without his helmet. He could hear Crüe snoring softly next to him and reached down to hold the demon’s hand, but it didn’t take long until his eyelids got too heavy to fight against any longer. If anything went wrong he would go against Crüe’s wishes and call Marty. He noticed Samuel had put the prowler’s contact info in his phone, just in case.

Notes:

I’m a sucker for whump rip

Also don’t be afraid to comment! It always brightens my day!

Chapter 40: Two

Notes:

That “2 or 3” poll I made ages ago finally comes to fruition.

Enjoy!

Samuel was sitting at his desk again. He had successfully gotten the Slayer and marauder reunited and fixed the demon’s horns; his prescription would be waiting outside his door tomorrow morning. After all the terror, he was finally able to breathe; the crushing weight of death was off his shoulders.

That was until he heard footsteps sprinting down the hall.

A deep sigh rumbled through his frame as he looked up from his paperwork, “Ahhh shit… here we go again.”

Daisy burst into the room, nearly knocking the door off its hinges, howling and crying. She slammed her baldes into the ground again and again. Speaking in a garbled hissy screech, demanding that Samuel pay attention.

“What’s wrong?” Samuel scooped her up. She was surprisingly lighter than she had been before. “I haven’t seen you in a few days, are you ok?”

Of course, she didn’t respond but chirped and waved her bladed hands around, hissing.

“You want them removed, today?” He grimaced internally.

She let out a low growl.

“Right now?!” He shook his head, “Daisy it’s been so chaotic. Plus it’s 8 PM. I don’t even know if the doctors are in!”

She could care less about something like time. Leaning in towards his face, she bared her fangs and threatened to bite his head off.

That was enough to get him to agree, “Ok fine, fine, calm down! I made a promise… Let me ask the doctors on staff currently.”

After walking down to the infirmary, with Daisy biting his ankles every step of the way, he pulled everyone into a meeting room and explained the situation.

They reviewed the several scans Vega had taken of Daisy and seemed content with their removal plan.

She was quickly prepared for surgery and wheeled into an operating theater. Samuel watched from a distance. They put her under, she fought against the anesthesia just a bit, her arms twitching and legs kicking, but succumbed to sleep.

He would occasionally peek over their shoulders as they cut into her arms and removed the blades one by one, stitching up and reuniting her split hands.

One of the doctors spoke, “What’s the chirping noise?”

The anesthesiologist grumbled, “Ok so it’s not just me. I thought the stress was finally rotting my brain.”

An older surgeon, who was a skilled but rather miserable old man, huffed, “Oh shush I can barely hear it. All of you focus on the task at hand.”

Someone else nodded, “I definitely hear it too.”

Samuel looked around, “Is it coming from the vent?”

A medical student walked away from the surgery and knelt down, putting her ear to the grating. It was a small vent two feet long by a foot tall. “Oh yeah it’s definitely coming from here.”

The older surgeon shook his head, “I hope whatever it is eats you. Get back here!”

After a while, the noises began getting louder to the point of obnoxiousness.

Samuel walked over and knelt down beside the med student, “Should we take the vent off?”

A nurse maintaining the sterility of the room spoke up, “Let’s not do duct work right now!”

A loud chirp interrupted them. All the doctors and medical professionals glared at the vent.

“Ok she’s stitched up. Open the fucking vent.” He took off his gloves as the older surgeon and a few others took her into the post operative room to recover.

Samuel used a spare scalpel to unscrew the vent. A whole horde of doctors were swarming around wanting to see what was annoying them. With a grunt, he yanked it off the wall.

Out of the open hole popped two baby gargoyles.

They were chirping and squealing. Both of them wanted food. Their ribs were almost visible on their sides and they were trying to nibble at every available surface.

Samuel was completely fucking floored. His blue optic was fixated on these two squirming squeaking beings. “Holy shit, she had babies.” Slowly, he reached out and offered his palm.

They immediately stopped nibbling everything and latched onto his fingers, hauling their tiny bodies up onto his palm and squeaking at each other.

Samuel stood, holding them in his palm, watching them. They looked so tiny and round the only thing comparable to their size and cuteness was a little loaf or bread roll.

All the doctors crowded around him trying to get a peek at them. “Awww they look so cute.”

“They look a bit scrawny though.”

“Look how their little hands grab onto stuff!”

Samuel looked at them carefully, “What should we do with them? Daisy isn’t going to be able to walk or do anything for a few days.”

“I guess you could keep them for her.”

He nodded, terrified of hurting the little beasts. He headed up to his room, passing by the postoperative room, glancing in at Daisy who was sound asleep.

As he continued walking the demons’ chirping got more and more incessant. He scolded them, “Shut up, shhhhh.” That only seemed to make them chirp louder.

Quickly he hurried and opened the door to his room. Taking them inside, he set them down on the bed. “Look, I'm going to make you food.”

He looked around in the fridge and found some ground meat, tossed a chunk or two in the blender, and made a sort of slurry for the two, drawing it up in two tiny feeding syringes.

They were absolutely furiously ravenous, they bit the syringes, his fingers, the bed sheets, each other, and his phone, breaking it. Their teeth were tiny, but needle sharp.

One was a whitish pink color and the other was a light gray. He noticed some other interesting things about them, they didn’t have the hand blades or the split jaw, and their claws were rather tiny, lacking the long metal hooks like Daisy had. It was interesting to see what a gargoyle really looked like.

Suddenly the realization hit him, Daisy probably wasn’t able to feed them, since she had blades for hands. That’s why she had been so frantic and screechy. He felt real pity for the demon.

Each of the little beasts ate until they looked chubby and curled up in a pile of limbs and wings to rest.

Samuel cleaned up their mess, putting meat purée covered blankets in the laundry and cleaning off the counter. He supposed that explained why Daisy had been so aloof lately. It dawned on him as well that’s why Vega said ‘good luck with two.’ Happiness bloomed along his nerves.

He looked at the little demons on his bed. They were grabbing at each other in their dreams, holding hands and chirping happily.

He tossed his broken phone on his desk vowing to fix it later. The Slayer probably wouldn’t have to call him so he didn’t worry too much about it and cuddled up with the little gargoyles.

Chapter 41: Dying On the Bedroom Floor

Notes:

Feel free to wayback machine this fic often and download it. That’s the biggest compliment you can give me as an author other than a comment. While I never plan on deleting this work, who knows what may happen! The link to enter into the wayback machine is: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25248466?view_adult=true&view_full_work=true

(You you don’t include the view_adult=true&view_full_work=true you won’t be able to view the fic only the “proceed with adult content page”)

Also here is a wayback of the original fic before it was rewritten: https://web.archive.org/web/20211209204254/https://archiveofourown.org/works/25248466?view_adult=true&view_full_work=true

Things were not going nearly as well in apartment 117. The marauder was sicker than he’d ever been. He had tossed and turned the whole time he had been in bed, staining the sheets with sweat.

The Slayer woke up to the demon whimpering and shaking. As much as he loved the demon he dreaded the coming hours. Crüe was tossing and turning so much he decided to wake him up, it’s not like he’d be missing out on any peaceful sleep, “Hey, Crüe, wake up.”

The marauder peeked an eye open and bolted upright, his chest heaving. Groaning, he spoke in a pained, whisper-like voice, “I think I’m gonna puke.”

The Slayer immediately leapt off the bed and dashed over to a tiny waste basket in the corner of the room, bringing it back to the demon.

The demon emptied his guts, crying and sobbing while he did. “I’m sorry.”

The Slayer dispelled the contents of the waste bin in the bathroom and came out with a wet washcloth, cleaning off Crüe’s face. “Feeling better?”

He nodded, “Slightly.” Then, he broke down in another sobbing fit. Everything felt wrong. His head was pounding like his skull was about to split in half. The fluttering feeling in his stomach wasn’t going away. He was so upset it felt hard to breathe through his sniffing.

The Slayer pulled him close to his chest and rubbed his arm. He glanced at the demon’s horns. They had grown a bit, a little inch or so of fresh tender horn was sticking out. The ones on the side were much slower growing it seemed, they had barely poked out. His scalp looked red and puffy.

He felt so hot and feverish he couldn’t stand to be in the room as the Slayer’s warm body. The marauder shook his head and continued sobbing, “Can you sleep on the couch? You're too hot, it's making me feel sick.”

The Slayer winced, that did hurt a bit, but he nodded, “Yeah.” He pulled away but patted the demon’s back before he completely separated.

The demon just nodded and laid back down, tears and sweat streaming down his face. Just his head touching the pillow burned like hellfire.

The Slayer had never walked away from something feeling defeated as he did now. He slowly walked out to the living room, seeing it was pitch black through the one large window. He touched his face and the many scars that adorned it, feeling oddly self conscious.

He sighed and curled up on the couch, realizing he hadn’t grabbed a pillow or blanket, but didn’t want to upset the marauder. He stared into the dark bedroom, watching the form of his lover twitch and jolt. Slowly he fell asleep scratching at the gauze on his face and listening to the sound of the fans in the vents.

After maybe five or so hours of decent sleep he was awoken by what sounded like a bag full of books hitting the floor in the bedroom. He lifted up his head and looked into the darkness.

He heard the most terrifying noise he had ever heard in all his years of crawling through the muck and sin of a thousand worlds. It was Crüe, he was gagging and gasping like someone had cut his lungs out and gutted him alive.

He leapt up from the couch and tried to turn on the light in the room.

The demon had fallen on the floor trying to get out of bed, and was frantically grabbing at his head. His eyes were wildly darting in every direction at one as he writhed in agony.

He knelt down beside him and rolled him onto his back, checking for wounds. “What’s wrong?” He was desperately trying to stay calm, but his voice was already wavering.

Crüe just suddenly jerked upwards and screamed out in pain, arching his back off the floor rolling back onto his side.

“I’ll be back!” The Slayer sprinted out into the living room and grabbed his phone, returning to Crüe’s
side trying to comfort him while calling Samuel. “Answer you fucking robot!”

Samuel didn’t pick up.

He quickly called Marty, praying he was awake, “Come on…”

Crüe twitched violently and gasped again, desperately grabbing onto the carpet. His face looked blue and his usual gray skin was drained of its color, making him look ghostly white.

A sleepy voice answered him, “What do you need at this hour? I’m not in the lab but I could get there fast.” He rolled his three golden eyes as he stared down at the dark screen of his phone.

“Something is wrong with Crüe. We’re in building C-“

Crüe grabbed the Slayer’s hand and clutched it tightly, rolling onto his side again. His eyes had an odd glazed look to them, like he was staring off into outer space. He spoke weakly “My head…”

Marty had been told by the higher ups to be attentive for any calls to his phone, hearing Crüe’s name and voice on the other end of the line made him go cold with fear, “What room?”

The Slayer couldn’t speak, he just stared at the marauder. His mind filled with thoughts of losing the demon. It was like the night with the Icon of Sin. He could almost see Crüe’s body flying through the air and landing in a crumpled pile… and now this. He grabbed onto the demon and squeezed his hand.

“Room Number!” Marty hollered into his ear, already teleporting into any room in building C he could think of, terrifying quite a few new families.

That snapped him back to reality, “117, hurry.”

Marty hung up and quickly began teleporting up the building and through rooms to reach them.

He scooped the demon up and held his limp twitching body against his chest. “It’s gonna be ok. I love you. It’s gonna be ok.”

The marauder’s jaw clenched and chattered, despite what he was going through he knew he could trust the big burly arms that were holding him, “Slayer.”

“Breathe.” They took deep breaths together, until Crüe gasped out again.

The demon kept gasping, it was like he was a fish out of water. The Slayer wasn’t sure if it was an allergic reaction or something else.

He also wasn’t sure how long it took for Marty to get there, all he knew was that Crüe gasped fourteen times. The remainder of his lips were starting to go blue. The Slayer kept trying to call Samuel but the damn bastard wouldn’t answer. He debated if he could get the demon to the infirmary but he didn’t think he’d be strong enough to carry him all the way there.

Marty was Crüe’s life line.

Crüe gasped again and twitched violently, clawing at his neck and chest.

The Slayer pulled him close to his chest, “Crüe if we went through all that just for you to die.” Tears were beginning to form in his eyes.

That got a little huff of laughter out of the demon then another shaky, drawn out shaky gasp.

Suddenly, they heard the sound of a prowler's teleportation. Marty rushed into the bedroom carrying a hefty bag. He expected this to be a prank call, but to his horror he saw the Slayer and Crüe on the floor. He stared wide eyed, “Holy shit.”

“He keeps gasping. He can’t breathe.” The Slayer was wide eyed and terrified.

Marty nodded and sat down by the demon, “Can you carry him into the bathroom? I need more light and this might get messy.”

He nodded, and picked up the demon, struggling to carry him into the bathroom. He gently setting him down on the floor. After a short distance, his arms and legs were burning like he ran ten miles.

Marty examined him, taking a metal tool that was like a long skinny stick, poking around at the base of the demon’s tiny horns.

Crüe squeezed his eyes shut as it touched the sensitive swollen skin and hissed in pain. Desperately, he tried to muffle his cries in front of Marty. He didn’t want that snake to have the satisfaction of making him admit his pain.

“Ok this ain’t too bad.” Marty nodded like a bobble head, unsure of how to act around the Slayer, “He has new tines on his top horns and they got caught on his skull. The horns are growing down and putting pressure on certain parts of his brain, which is why he’s struggling to breathe. It’s an easy fix.”

“Fix him!” The Slayer felt like a trapped rat, he knew Crüe needed this but watching a demon hurt him made his skin crawl. “Fix him now.”

Marty dug around in his bag for a longer, more sturdy looking metal probe, “Hold his hands down. I’ll try and make it as painless as possible.” He stuck a metal rod in between Crüe’s horn and skull, pushing it down into his skull.

The Slayer pushed the demon’s upper arms against the floor, prohibiting any movement. The man looked at the demon’s eyes, avoiding staring at the rather gruesome procedure. He glanced up for a moment and nearly went white with fear at how far the probe was in his skull.

Crüe broke his silence and began yelling and making nearly demonic sounding noises, but they were eerily quiet and raspy from lack of oxygen. He strained against the Slayer’s hold, cussing both of them out when he got the breath.

Marty was grunting and digging around the demon’s horn with that little metal tool. It was scratching at something hard, making a disturbing sound echo down into Crüe’s ears, “Almost done.” He wedged his tool in the other horn and with a pop he nodded, “All done!”

Rolling onto his side, trying to get away from the pain, Crüe gasped, finally able to breathe. He gulped down air desperately. “O-o-out.” He glared at Marty. “G-get him out!”

The Slayer stood, giving Marty only enough time to grab his bag, and yanked the prowler out of the bathroom and into the living room. Instead of kicking him out he made him sit on the couch, “Stay.”

Marty nodded, horrified.

The Slayer glared at him. He hated dealing with that demon, or any demons other than his own. Something about him just made the man’s skin crawl. Probably the fact he tried to kill Crüe. He walked back into the bathroom to see Crüe lying on his side, taking deep shaky breaths.

His top horns were almost an inch or so longer than when he walked out with Marty. He had the tip of two small tines on the front of his horns, poking up from the flesh of his skull. They were maybe only a half inch long so far and they followed the curvature of the main beam of his horn. His side horns were three inches long, the tines on them would hopefully grow out without needing intervention.

“Looking good.”

Crüe smiled and turned to face him, “Thank you.”

He licked his thumb and wiped some blood off the demon’s forehead, resting his hand on his chest.

Crüe laced his fingers with the Slayer, “I’m feeling ok, really dizzy, but ok.”

“Wanna go to bedroom?” He rubbed the demon's chest, happy to feel his heart still beating under his fingertips.

Crüe thought for a moment, “Could you get me a blanket and a pillow? I just want to sleep on the floor. I don’t think I’d be able to move.”

He caressed the side of the demon’s face and got up to get some, but he skipped the bedroom and headed out into the living room.

Marty looked up at him as he stuck his head out into the living room. “Is he ok?”

“You can go.” Speaking in a hushed tone, he tiptoed out into the living room so as to not alert Crüe to the fact Marty was still here.

He nodded and clutched his med case tightly, blinking his three eyes, “Yes, yes. Would I be able to talk to him and apologize about… the past once he’s feeling better?”

“That’s up to him.” He paused, looking back at the bathroom, “Will this happen again? The tines getting stuck?”

“Oh no,” Marty shook his head. “That metal tool made a slot for them to grow up and out of in the future. Now… if he breaks his horns and gets other tines I might have to do that again.”

Immediately, the man decided Crüe needed armor and a helmet. “Go now.” The Slayer motioned to the door, and watched the demon leave. Going back into the bedroom, he grabbed two pillows and a few blankets from off the bed. He knocked on the frame of the bathroom, “You ok?”

He was still lying on his side, eyes partially closed, and nodded, “Still dizzy.”

The man knelt down beside him and slowly lifted up the demon’s head, sliding a cushy pillow under it. He covered him in blankets and then made a nest for himself beside him.

He tucked his legs in, and pulled his arms around him, curling into a little ball. He scratched at the gauze on his face and how it tickled the sensitive skin of his eyelids. God, he had so much gauze on him; it felt so itchy too. Crüe was already sleeping so he spent the night watching him, making sure he would be ok until he slowly dozed off.

A loud groan woke him up. It was Crüe lying on his stomach, facing away from him, rubbing his head. “Oh god…”

He rolled over and sat up, “Crüe?” The demon’s horns were still short, all of them around four inches long. They could barely hold a candle to the grandeur of his past horns yet.

Burying his face into the crook of his arm, he shook his head, “Please don’t look.”

He scooted over to the demon, “Crüe?”

“My horns, don’t look. I’m ugly.” His voice trembled like he was on the verge of tears.

The Slayer reached out and touched the demon’s bare skin on his lower back. “I’d love you even if you didn’t have any horns.”

He just shook his head and let out a little shaky gasp, “Well, I wouldn’t love myself. I want my horns back.” He started crying, his sides shook as he sobbed and he fervently wiped at the tears in his eyes.

The Slayer gave his back another tender rub. He was fairly certain that the gallons of hormones coursing through Crüe’s veins were to blame for that self hate, but it still made him melt and try and comfort him. He reached over and grabbed a small towel and draped it over Crüe’s head. “All covered up, I won’t look.”

Surprisingly, he stopped crying and touched his covered horns. Turning back to face the Slayer he nodded and turned to rest his head in the man’s lap.

“I feel self conscious about my face, Crüe.” The Slayer curled his hands cradling his demon.

“You’re beautiful though.” Crüe responded, his voice sounded dazed and far away, “I couldn’t have even imagined you were so pretty.”

The Slayer just laughed at that. He wasn’t quite sure if he had ever heard anyone call his scared and scabbed over face “pretty” before.

“Please tell me you won’t go back to wearing your helmet all the time.” Crüe spoke softly, his finger wandering and tracing the pattern of the tile on the floor.

To the Slayer it seemed obvious that as soon as he could get his hands back on the helmet it would go right back on his head permanently. Seeing the way Crüe looked up at him in awe and called him things that made him blush had him reconsidering. “Well… I'll think about it… maybe.”

Crüe nodded happily, “I’m hungry.”

The Slayer smiled down at him, he was a little shocked that he wasn’t even annoyed at all the mood swings and crying. Being in love was a hell of a drug. “Let’s go eat.”

After helping him to the couch and looking through the cabinets and fridge, he found some cooked chicken microwave meals and heated one up for Crüe. He handed him the plate and sat down next to him on the couch.

He picked up a piece and nibbled at it, eating the breading then devouring it, leaving only bones behind on the plate. Hunching over the plate in his lap, he consumed the chicken at a borderline terrifying rate.

The Slayer used his hand to prop up his chin as he watched him eat. “Anything else?”

He finished up eating the last piece of chicken, “Can you make waffles?” His long tongue lapped at his greasy lips, and he stared at the man like he might eat him too if he didn’t get some waffles. “I just feel so hungry.”

The man nodded and sat up, he could never say no to waffles. It took him a while to make them, in the meantime he had turned on the TV. As he stirred a bowl of waffle mix, he stared at the news story about the rebuilding efforts.

The marauder was a lot more chipper after he had his horns hidden and gotten something on his belly. He would comment on the news and talk about humans, asking a few small questions.

The Slayer poured the doughy mixture into a waffle maker, scraping the last bit of mix off the bowl. After a few short minutes, he opened it up and put the fresh, fluffy waffle on top of a stack. He put butter and syrup on them and took the two plates over to the couch, one for him and one for the demon. He set his own on the coffee table in front of them and huffed, “I forgot forks and knives.”

Crüe smiled at him and watched as he walked back to the kitchen. A light hue of blush started to appear on his face, he loved looking at the man’s face. He was so handsome he could barely fathom it. He couldn’t wait to see him without the gauze. One thing he really loved that he had never gotten to see before was the man’s eyes. They were such a beautiful brown color. He liked how they darted around while doing tasks, it was adorable.

The Slayer looked up with utensils in hand and caught the demon starring. Quirking up an eyebrow he smiled, “Whatcha lookin at?”

Crüe tried to play it cool. “Oh I just wanted to know where the utensils were.” Honestly that wouldn’t have been a bad excuse, but his face was as red and a stop sign with blush.

“Blushing.” The Slayer pointed at him jokingly.

He rubbed his cheek, “Where?”

The Slayer walked over and leaned in, kissing him on the cheek. He murmured in the demon’s ear, “Right there,” and handed them a fork and knife.

Now that certainly didn’t help his blush. He scooted next to the man and began eating the waffles.

The man hadn’t started yet, he was holding his fork out, waiting. “I promised you I’d make em.”

The demon looked up and tapped his fork against the man’s, making a delightful little chime, “Thank you.” They both began eating the waffles.

Chapter 42: The Definition of Squab

Notes:

A Squab is a young pigeon, usually around a few weeks old. I've based Daisy and gargoyles in this fic off pigeons (as I love them dearly) and I wanted to share some pigeon terminology with y'all!

Daisy’s eyes slowly opened. There was the same familiar pain in her hands and throat. For a moment she thought she might still be a squab sitting in the bottom of that little sink waiting for Grim to pick her up, the Slayer nothing but a figment of her imagination. The nightmarish illusion was broken when she heard a familiar voice.

“Oh my fucking god Daisy, why didn’t you use a condom?”

It was Samuel, struggling to hold her two squirming squabs. He was sitting in a chair in her recovery room failing to keep the beasts under control.

One was on his back nibbling at his metal plates, and the other was taking a running dash up his chest towards his head, determined to perch on the highest space available.

Daisy tried to crane her neck to see her little children, but she could barely move. Whatever drugs they had given her to calm her down were quite effective. She stared off into space, occasionally finding the strength to focus on a ceiling tile before she had to rest her eyes again. It was comforting to listen to the squabs chirp and squeak. She loved them, she truly did.

Samuel was not in a drug induced blissful coma and was near the end of his rope. All night they were up, biting him with their little needle teeth, which HURT due to his fancy nervous system. When he tried to feed them in the morning, they bit him again! When he tried holding them to take them down to Daisy, you guessed it, more biting! He was surprised their teeth hadn’t fallen out of their heads after gnawing on the titanium steel alloy that made up his body.

He was slightly worried that they broke his phone, but he doubted the Slayer needed him last night.

He plucked the one off his back and grabbed the other one off his chest, holding the squirming beasts in his firm grasp. “Oh Daisy by the way- HEY,” he scolded one of the little ones who was trying to consume his entire finger down to the knuckle, “I’m working on a translator so you might be able to talk soon. I can’t wait for you to explain how the hell these little beasts happened.”

Daisy just chuckled in a screechy gargoyle way.

“Oh yes, very, very funny.” He looked down to see one of the beasts was gone from his firm grasp. He whirled his head around and spotted it trying to crawl under the door and out into the hallway. He scooped it back up and yelled at it, lecturing it on how dangerous the hallway was.

Daisy yawned and closed her eyes, falling back asleep. She knew Samuel would at least tolerate the squabs until she had recovered.

Upon seeing that she was sleeping, Samuel huffed rather dramatically and went back to his room, setting both beast’s onto his bed. He turned towards his little kitchen, “Are you two hungry?”

“Chirp!”

“Chirp!”

He took another chunk of meat out of the fridge and tossed it in the blender, mixing up a purée. As he worked in the kitchen he turned on the TV, which seemed to satiate the beasts, as they watched the pretty colors and transitions of the news channels.

He looked around at the mess on his counter and desk, feeding syringes he had picked up from a lab and dirty towels covered every available surface. It annoyed him how the two had taken over his room so fast.

He drew up the purée in the syringes and grabbed a towel, as he walked over to the bed. “Come on here I got some food.”

They crawled over each other as he sat down on the bed. The gray one was quite plum, it was keeping its weight up easily, but the little pinkish one was struggling a bit. Between feeding times it’s ribs would stick out a bit.

He scooped the pink one up, “Lookie, here comes the 60 ml medical grade feeding syringe!”

It chirped and opened its mouth expectantly, lapping up the slush. It’s little yellow eyes looked around the room, and up at Samuel’s faceplate. It’s little wings would shake and shiver with excited flaps.

Once the syringe was empty, he set the creature down and got up to fill it up again. When he came back, this time he picked up the gray gargoyle. It gave its wings hard flaps that smacked the back of Samuel’s hand, and viciously bit at the syringe. He had to wipe off its mouth with the towel as meat dribbled down.

He set them in a neat stack in the center of the bed, piling up a little blanket, hoping they would fall asleep. They didn’t of course, that would be too convenient. They ran around the room, caterwauling and play fighting as he tried cleaning the mess on his kitchen counter.

Just as he tossed the last dirty rag in the trash can, a shrill yell pierced his ears. Within seconds he had whirled around and knelt down next to the little demon. It was the gray one, limping and holding out its little hand. He scooped it up and examined the damage, carefully checking every inch of its arm, it just looked like it had stubbed its claw off the bed frame, but he let the little being cuddle up close to him and calm down, before he let it play once more.

Suddenly, as he watched them begin to play again, he found himself wanting to protect these little beings with everything he had. God dammit.

In what seemed like an eternity but was actually no time at all, the little squabs crawled up on bed and fell asleep.

Samuel spent his sliver of peace trying to fix his phone, in the end he had to take out a backup phone and transfer all the data. Which was annoying because he forgot he changed his password from “UACDICKRECTOR” to “SAMUELISTHEBEST42069.”

Just as the download was finishing, he heard the little beasts begin to chirp and wake up. He looked over his shoulder to watch them as the final percent loaded.

As he looked back at the phone, his screen went black for a moment, then opened to a familiar, basic home screen. Thirty messages covered his screen. All were missed calls from the Slayer. His heart sank to the floor. He grabbed his phone and wrapped the two barely awake squabs in a blanket and rushed over to the man’s apartment.

He took the back stairwells and hallways, his mechanical joints getting hot from the massive effort he was putting them through. The sound of his metal feet smashing into the metal stairwell silenced the squabs with terror.

He burst out of the stairwell and ran across the hallway, kicking down the door to their room. Truthfully, he didn’t know what he expected to find. Would they be dead?

Crüe’s eyes snapped open from his nap and he nearly dropped the empty syrupy plate he had in his hands. The Slayer had bolted upright reflexively and had his hands balled into fists, but before he could leap into battle he was halted by the fact that it was Samuel. His fear turned to anger, “How come you didn’t answer any of my calls? Do you think it’s funny giving me a phone and not picking up?” Which he was fairly certain was the longest thing he had ever said in eons.

“No! Please, I never mean to not answer. My phone broke. What happened?” He clutched the silent squabs to his chest, they were burrowed deep into the blanket.

The Slayer’s face was actually getting red with anger, for a split moment Samuel pondered that probably only a few people had ever seen his face enraged like that without a helmet blocking it, he yelled at Samuel, “His horns grew and almost killed him! I had to call that fucking prowler and have him come up here and fix him!”

Samuel tried desperately to explain, “Listen, I-“

“I don’t wanna fucking hear it! You think everything is a game and when you have an ounce of responsibility on your shoulders you somehow manage to let everyone down!” He pointed accusingly at the robot.

“An ounce?!” Samuel thought about how much shit he had been through in these past few days. He put the bundle of squabs on the recliner and yelled, “You don’t have the right to say such a thing! I’ve done nothing but sacrifice after sacrifice trying to save humanity. I had the weight of the world on my shoulders until you started your crusade.”

“You were the one that STOLE the demonic crucible off me and teleported me into the DEPTHS OF HELL!” He could feel rage curl though his body just as a drop of blood turns water red.

“I WAS WRONG!” He paused for a moment but spoke before the Slayer could yell again, “I shouldn’t have teleported you away, but I knew it was the only way I could get the crucible off of you and help fuel humanity a little longer.”

The marauder grabbed the Slayer’s hand, “Relax, both of you. I’m fine and humanity is fine.”

The man was fuming but he did agree with the marauder. Everyone was safe and that was what mattered. He looked down and saw the marauder looking hungrily at the empty plate in his hands.

“Could you get me something to drink?” Crüe gave a little nod and pulled the towel down on his horns farther. The robot’s presence was making him feel even more self conscious.

He walked over into the kitchen and put on a kettle. “Hot chocolate?”

“That sounds good.” He nodded again, glad that he found a way to distract the Slayer from killing Samuel.

The robot took a step forwards, his servo joints sounding horribly loud in the room, “If it would be no trouble I’d take a mug.”

He glared at Samuel, “Mhm…”

Crüe turned around to face the Slayer, “Come on, make him hot chocolate.”

He huffed, his voice was gruff, “Fine.”

“Thank you,” he caught the Slayer’s eye and grinned at him. He watched the angry red face of the Slayer fade to a light tinge of blush, and his frown quirk up into a smile.

Samuel sat down on a little recliner in the corner, “So how are your horns?”

“It was awful last night. They got stuck and grew backwards. I woke up and I almost couldn’t breathe. Then like he said, Marty came and fixed them.” He moved the towel on his head again, suddenly wondering if he looked stupid with it on, “They look awful now.”

Samuel craned his neck a bit to try and see them through the towel, “They look almost half of their size. I’m sure they’ll grow in soon.”

Crüe nodded yet again and gave a little smile, “Thanks.” That was a nice little confidence boost he certainly needed. “How did your phone break anyways?”

“Oh! I forgot to tell you guys.” He picked the bundle off the couch and pulled down the front of the blankets. “Aren’t they adorable?”

He expected them both to be awestruck at Daisy’s children, especially the Slayer. I mean he loved Daisy and now there were more Daisies!

The man stared blankly from the kitchen with the most bored look on his face, “What?”

Crüe nodded happily but confused, “That’s a nice blanket. I like that blue color.”

Samuel slowly turned the bundle around, staring at the empty divot inside where two baby gargoyles should be sitting. “Oh my fucking god.”

“What’s wrong?” Crüe stood up slowly, and looked over Samuel’s shoulder.

“Oh fuck! I lost them! They have to be in this room. I know I didn’t lose them in the stairwell.” He began tossing pillows off the recliner and looking under the couch cushions as if hunting for loose change.

Taking the towel off his head as he was now convinced he looked stupid, the marauder hadn’t the faintest clue of what they were looking for but he knelt down and tried to look under the couch. “I don’t see anything. What did you lose?”

Before he could respond, a loud sob hit his auditory sensors. He looked over at the Slayer.

He slowly placed the cups he was holding in his hands down. Every molecule in his body was fixated on the little creature that had just hauled itself up on the counter. Just from the sight he could tell it was Daisy’s kiddo. It had her familiar pink, tan, and white colors all over it, yet it was as small and pudgy and a bread roll. He stretched out his big hand towards it.

The little gargoyle was unsure. It bobbed its head, and gave a little sniff. The man smelled faintly of gunpowder and metal. She licked his finger, deeming him safe enough, and grasped onto his hand with her own tiny fingers.

He let out another little shaky sob, unable to believe what he was seeing. “Hello little guy.” Between not having his helmet on and being in front of Samuel, he tried to hold back the tears that were threatening to pour from his skull. His lip quivered like mad.

A second one hauled itself up on the counter and looked up at the Slayer, chirping.

His face went from overwhelmed with joy to completely and utterly overflowing with sheer joy, “Two?!” He gave in and just burst into tears, happily sobbing like there was no tomorrow. Both crawled onto his hands, curious why the man was leaking water from his eyes. The Slayer held both of them and brought them up to his chest, gently hugging their tiny fragile bodies.

Crüe could hardly believe it; he hurried over to the man. “Daisy had kids?!”

They were so tiny and perfect. Their little claws grasped onto the Slayer's big meaty hands. They stared up at him with big yellow doe eyes. It reminded him of when he tried to breed his rabbit Daisy. It didn’t work, none of her babies came out right. He had to take her to the vet and he cried for weeks, so to see these two healthy, living creatures after all the pain of hell… it felt amazing.

The marauder slowly picked up the little grey one and scratched its chin. “Oh you’re just the sweetest little thing.”

Samuel watched the two hulking beasts of men, cry and laugh over the little squabs. He remained quiet and watched. They both deserved this.

After a few minutes, the Slayer finally started to calm himself. All the pain and writhing in agony, the countless miles trekked through hell, all the blood… all worth it.

He finally had a family again and a family with two new little wriggling creatures added to it. He couldn’t ask for more.

His life finally seemed to anchor itself, even if it was just for a moment in the grand scheme on things. The Slayer could finally rest outside of a sarcophagus for the first time in eons.

Chapter 43: The Most Fun the Slayer Can Have Without Taking His Clothes Off (Ignoring Dr. Samuel Hayden)

Notes:

I'm gonna be getting on a consistent schedule again. I love y'all and I hope everyone is doing good.

“Where is Daisy, is she alright?” The Slayer was now sitting on the couch with his hand on the marauder’s shoulder. The demon was feeding the two squabs with a syringe Samuel had brought over.

“She’s fine, she’s in recovery right now.” Samuel sipped the hot chocolate he had poured for himself since the two men were too fixated on the beings to even move, and explained the story of their discovery. “She might be up and about by now. We could go to the infirmary and see her.”

The Slayer nodded and stood up. “Can we go right now?”

“Are you up for it?” The robot looked at Crüe.

He felt a bit nervous about walking out in public with his horns only half grown, but he wanted to see Daisy, “Of course!” He helped Samuel bundle up the little demons again and they walked to the infirmary through the back way.

The marauder was surprised at how short the walk felt now that he wasn’t dizzy. He wrinkled his nose at the thought of how sick he had been, now all he had to worry about was the mild headache from his horns.

The Slayer was being extra kind and gentle to him, putting a hand around him to give him some support.

They opened a door and walked out of the stairwell into the hallway of the infirmary after a short walk, he announced, “Here we are.” Samuel adjusted the bundle of squabs in his arms and opened the door to her room. “You two stay out here for a moment, let me introduce you slowly. I don’t want her to hurt her hands trying to get up.”

Reluctantly, they both nodded, “Ok.” The Slayer paced outside the door, trying to hurry up the time it took to see her.

Samuel walked inside to see Daisy sitting up in bed with a man by her side, instructing her to grab some foam blocks that were spread across her bed. She was adamantly refusing and getting angry with the man, chirping and letting out low growls.

After a few awkward minutes of Samuel just standing there, he looked up, “Oh hello! Me and my colleague are just doing some training.”

Samuel looked around the room, “Colleague?”

A woman poked her head out of the attached bathroom, “She bit me, I’m hiding.”

Daisy hissed at seeing the woman open the door and she let out a yelp and hurried back inside. Everything about her looked upset and uncomfortable. She didn’t want to be here fucking around with stupid blocks.

The marauder and Slayer couldn’t take it anymore, the demon peeked inside, just in time to watch the woman hide back inside the bathroom.

He couldn’t resist pestering Daisy, so he spoke up, “Daisy! What did I say about eating people?”

The Slayer nodded, patted the marauder on the shoulder, and stepped out into the room.

Daisy slowly turned her head at hearing one familiar voice and a new one. Without hesitation, she leapt out of bed and into the Slayer’s open arms.

He hugged her tight, “DAISY! Are you ok?” He sank to the floor, struggling to stand after all that walking.

She nodded and buried her head into his neck, chirping. When the dust had settled after the icon she was so sure they were both dead. Even when Samuel told her they were alive, even when she saw their bodies laying under tangles of machines in the infirmary from the vents she still could barely believe they were alive. She nodded happily, yes, she was ok. A strong hand touched her back and wings.

It was the marauder. He was smiling down at her, “It’s good to see you alive, and your hands look amazing!”

She looked down at them and let go of the Slayer to hold them out. Both men examined her hands.

They were a little small, between her pointer finger and middle finger was where the blade had been placed. Now a large angry scar was there instead. The bones were stiff and a few of her finger tips had been removed due to necrosis of the tissue from lack of movement.

They looked surprisingly human-like, her claws were tiny. The only give away it was a demon’s hand was the burn marks and eons of scars that made her flesh look old and leathery.

The Slayer hadn’t even noticed she still had hands before her blades were removed, her fingers were so damaged that they looked just like strips of flesh. The doctors had done quite a job healing her.

With a huff, Samuel knelt down on the floor with the trio, depositing the two squirming beasts onto the floor. “Here are your grimy little beasts.”

Daisy purred and laid down, letting the little children crawl on her head and nibble at her face, all while squeaking and making all sorts of adorable noises.

Samuel looked at her, “I can watch them another day or two or whatever you need.”

“Awww you’re getting a soft spot for them!” The marauder leaned on the robot’s shoulder and smiled at him.

Samuel shoved Crüe off of him, “Of course not! It was just a reasonable offer!”

She nodded and let out a thankful chirp. As much as she wanted her squabs right now, she could barely make a fist let alone tear off tiny pieces of meat and give them food.

The man from before interrupted them, “Excuse me Mr. Slayer sir, ahhh does she have anything she’d like to grab. We are trying to do some physical therapy and she won’t work with me with foam blocks.”

He thought for a moment, ignoring how uncomfortable ‘Mr. Slayer’ made him, “Guns, I’ve never seen her decline holding a gun. It would probably be a good idea to use fake ones though.”

She let out a little whine, hating to be babied by the humans here. The only person who could baby her was the Slayer and maybe the marauder.

The Slayer patted her head, avoiding the children, “If you do what he wants you to do I’ll make you a deal. I’ll make you a whole arsenal just like mine.”

Her brows furrowed as she thought for a moment; she seemed interested but still refused to accept.

“With weapon mods.”

Immediately, she chirped in agreement.

The Slayer turned to the man and gave a little nod.

“Thank you!” He dropped his sweet demeanor and hurried out of the room like most of the other humans had, completely and utterly terrified that they met the Slayer though he was equally as happy to be away from Daisy.

A few seconds later the woman came dashing out of the bathroom running towards the door to the hallway, screaming as Daisy hissed at her.

The marauder scolded her, “Daisy.”

Daisy rolled her eyes and scooted her children off her head. They scurried around the floor biting at everyone and chasing each other.

They all talked for a bit more, chit chatting about the Icon of Sin and what had happened since then. Daisy soon fell asleep to their gentle talking and they helped her to bed.

As they walked back to the apartment, Samuel led the way with the two squirming gargoyles almost falling out of his hands.

Crüe paused, “Wait where is my axe? I need to check on Haru.”

Samuel stopped and shook his head, “Can that wait till tomorrow? There’s no way to get to the Armory through the back way. I don’t want too many people to see you two yet. Plus I have these demons to care for!”

“Why should we wait?” The Slayer crossed his arms and looked up at Samuel, preparing to defy his robotic ass in a rather sassy looking stance.

“You’re both tired and barely standing.” Samuel motioned towards them with his hands full of squab.

“I’m ok if you are.” Crüe turned to the Slayer who nodded his head.

“Listen I have a press conference tomorrow regarding you two and I don’t want either of you to do something stupid and make everything complicated, ok?” He sighed and motioned with his hand again, making Daisy’s squab squeak and grasp on tightly, “I don’t mean to be an asshole, but you have to see this from my perspective.” Samuel said it in a rather demanding way and turned around.

The Slayer wrinkled his nose at the robot and Crüe let out a dejected sigh, “Ok.”

They continued walking until the Slayer yanked him into an offshoot hallway and began pulling him along.

“Where are we going?!”

“The armory!” He grinned and began down the hallways, no clue where he was going.

Samuel was walking along, completely oblivious to the fact that he was missing the two. “I’ve never heard you two so quiet!” He walked all the way back to their apartment before looking behind him and realizing they were gone. He screamed into the stairwell, “YOU MOTHER FUCKERS!” He ran inside their room and left both squabs sitting in the bathtub they couldn’t escape and sprinted down the back way hunting for the Slayer.

Chapter 44: Broken Armor, Dead Bodies, and Blood

Notes:

Sorry I forgot to update for a month getting in a schedule is harder than I expected.

The Slayer and marauder were pulling each other along, laughing like school children, despite them both feeling tired enough to fall asleep where they stood.

For the first time in who knows how long, they were going to explore something and have an adventure together.

It didn’t take them long to run back down the hallway that connected the buildings and hurry up a stairwell. It spit them out in a nice office building.

The marauder opened the door and walked out. A whole building full of people preparing to go home for the weekend looked up at them.

The Slayer stepped forward and waved, “Um… do any of you know where the armory is?” Suddenly, he felt unsure of himself. All these people staring at him were more terrifying than a horde of hell knights. A queasy feeling entered him and he unsuccessfully tried to squash it.

Someone stood up, their eyes wide, and pointed to his right, “Take the elevator to the ground floor and it’s the building right across from this one.”

Relief washed over him as he turned away. The Slayer nodded and grabbed the demon, pulling him along, muttering, “Thank you.”

Crüe grinned at the workers and waved as he was being pulled into the elevator.

The Slayer hurried inside and pressed the ground floor button. After a short wait, the elevator began descending. It was currently displaying they were on floor fifteen of the building.

The marauder leaned against the Slayer, not liking how closed in and tiny the elevator was, “Were you ok back there?”

Meeting his gaze, he looked up at the beast. His horns had grown in another inch or so since the morning, “I've never seen that many people since…” he paused then went to a full stop, “… I don’t even know how long.”

Crüe nodded, respecting that, and after a few seconds, he spoke again. “God, I feel like my legs are gonna fall off.” He huffed and leaned forwards, gripping his thighs.

Before the Slayer could reply, the elevator suddenly stopped a few floors down and the door opened. A young man was about to step into the elevator. He was wearing a green ARC uniform, glasses with a thick black frame, and a bald head. He stopped dead in his tracks and stared, “Holy Shit?! You’re the DoomSlayer, right?!”

He chuckled at the look of cartoonish shock on the man’s face, “Yup.”

He stepped inside the elevator with a massive grin, “It’s an honor to meet you sir!” He held out a hand as the doors closed behind him.

The Slayer shook it and gave him a smile, “I recognize you.”

The man looked at the Slayer, “You recognize ME? I’m just an intern! I was at the ARC complex whenever he stepped through the portal.” He motioned towards the marauder.

The marauder snapped his fingers, “Ahhh I saw you watching us fight from under a desk in that room with all the dark glass!”

“Yeah!” He nodded. “I was scared out of my mind!” Reaching out, he pressed the button for the seventh floor.

The Slayer could tell that this man, well this intern, was hyper but it wasn’t the abrasive type of hyperness that annoyed him so much. It was genuine and rather adorable.

“So are you two… like…” he pointed between the Slayer and the marauder.

The Slayer tried to play it calm but the marauder had a look of sheer horror come over him. Had they really been found out that easily? Of course the marauder hated the idea of hiding what he had between him and the Slayer but did everyone know already?!

“-like friends now? I mean you're not attacking each other so I’d assume so.”

Relieved, the Slayer chuckled and gave the marauder’s arm a playful punch, “We’re the best of pals.”

The elevator doors opened with a ding, and the intern looked over his shoulder, “Oop this is my floor! I’ll see you guys later hopefully!” He sprinted off down a hallway nearly skipping with joy.

“I thought he saw right through us.” Crüe laughed, “I mean not that people knowing we are a little more than pals would be a bad thing necessarily.”

“I like to be private.” He shrugged, not very interested, there were a few opportunities for people to see his face. Also the giant gauze pad on his face certainly made him stand out a bit. “I'm surprised he recognized me by my face, or it could be the fact that you’re standing right beside me.”

The elevator door opened on the ground level and they stepped out. It was a big open lobby with tons of glass windows. There was no one around which the Slayer was glad for.

The marauder brushed his arm against the Slayer’s as they walked out the door and across the street.

The Slayer had a bit of a spring in his step, glad to be one step closer to getting his helmet back, “I wonder if they have my arsenal here too.”

Crüe held the door open to the building, letting the Slayer wander in. They walked around trying to find a map or directions of some sort.

The building had a very military feel to it. There were only a few small windows and most of the corridors had unfinished walls covered in pipes and wires only lit by led lights. Everything looked like a monster could be hiding right behind the next corner.

Suddenly the lights flickered and went out, everything went pitch black. The Slayer reached back and grabbed Crüe’s hand, slowly walking forwards.

“Did you hear that?” Crüe leaned forwards, whispering into the Slayer’s ear.

He looked around in the darkness wishing he would have brought his phone so he could have used its flashlight. “No, what?”

“Footsteps.”

Immediately the Slayer heard the footsteps ring out down along the hall, one after the other walking confidently through the dark. “What is it?” He pulled a UAC pistol from his side and held it up.

“I can’t tell- you have a gun?!” The marauder tried to listen but he struggled to hear over his own nervous breathing.

“I always have a gun.” He heard the footsteps getting closer and clicked off the safety, moving his finger to the trigger.

Finally the footsteps rounded the corner and light began to pool in the hallway. It was a young woman with a muscular build, wearing the standard greenish ARC uniform. She was holding a lantern with a shocked look on her face, “Oh my goodness!”

“What happened to the power?” The Slayer quickly put his gun down, unloading it and clicking the safety back on. “Is it demons?”

She was a bit terrified to be looking at the Slayer and the marauder, but she shook her head, “No, it should be on soon, don’t worry. It almost always shuts off around rush hour with people hurrying to get home. Too much electricity draw.”

They waited for a few tense moments until finally there was a loud click and power rushed back into the lights, illuminating the hallways.

The marauder spoke up, “Have you seen an argent axe perchance? Very red and glowy?”

“Oh sure I can take you to it!” She turned around and escorted them down the halls.

They followed and she led them to a circular room surrounded with labs. She pointed to three of the labs, “That’s where your axe is, that’s where your arsenal is, and that’s where your suit is!” Then, she promptly scurried off, terrified of the fact that she had just been in the presence of a person and a demon who could tear her in half.

The Slayer wasn’t sure how he felt about people scurrying off so fast. In a way it was awkward but he also didn’t mind the quiet left in their wake.

They walked into the lab holding the marauder’s axe. Papers full of diagrams littered every surface, but whoever had been there must have gone home for the day.

The axe was suspended on a white wall rack. Crüe lifted it up and felt the rough hellish metal under his fingers for a second then shook it, “Haru!”

There was a little puff of orange smoke under a desk and a little whimper.

The Slayer and Crüe looked at each other, not having any clue what was going on. Slowly, they both squatted down and looked under the desk.

It was Haru, but he was only a quarter of his normal size, and almost looked like a puppy.

The marauder reached out his arms and crawled under the desk making kissy noises, “Oh my dear Haru! You overworked yourself!” He scooped up the wolf who was now the size of a lap dog.

“He shrunk himself?”

“Do you remember when he ran out of my axe and was huge?” Crüe kept petting and cuddling Haru. While looking up at the Slayer from under the desk.

“Of course he saved our asses.” The Slayer reached out a hand and scratched under the dog's chin. “Good boy.”

“Aww see he said something nice about you,” the marauder kissed Haru’s head and turned his focus back to the Slayer, “He overexerted himself and now he has to rest and regrow. The poor thing.”

“Can we speed that up?” He titled his head to get a better view of Haru pouting.

“Blood would help.”

“Then I’ll get you some blood, little guy, promise.” He gave a little grin that probably made a poor little demon somewhere outside the city walls shiver in fear.

Haru nodded and then gave a little sigh, closed his eyes, and disappeared back into the axe.

“Poor thing.” The marauder crawled out from underneath the desk and hung the axe up on the wall rack. He noticed his armor on a nearby table and grabbed his tool belt off of it, tossing it over his shoulder to carry it.

The Slayer picked up a diagram off the table, “Wait… what the hell?”

“What?” Crüe looked over and peeked at the paper.

“Your axe is ALIVE?” He was dumbstruck at the diagram of organs and bones contained within the axe.

“Oh yeah you didn’t realize?” He laughed and leaned against him. “Haru possesses whatever exists within the axe and slowly feeds off its blood.” the demon shrugged, “Though there is a gem in my axe that contains Haru’s soul, if it breaks, he dies for good.”

The Slayer was extremely confused, and maybe even a little disturbed, but he nodded, setting the diagram back down. He put a hand on the demon's free shoulder before he walked out of the room, “Hey you aren’t gonna take him?”

“It’s best if he rests in the axe, the less moving around the better.” The marauder looked a little dejected. “I mean I knew he was gonna be over exerted and weakened but it still makes me sad.”

The burly arms of the Slayer wrapped around him, “We’ll go on a mission soon and get him gallons of demon blood.”

Crüe smiled, “Thanks.”

He winked in response, “I wanna check my suit out.”

He smiled at the man and put a hand on the small of his back for just a moment.

They walked across the circular main room and into the lab that held his suit. It was laying out on a table, connected to a variety of diagnostic tools and wires. It was chilling seeing how torn up it was. It was almost as if the Icon had gone at him with an industrial strength can opener. Metal plates were chewed up and the little under mesh that was left was stained with blood and sweat. His fresh wounds twinged with pain seeing how close he had really come to death. Really, his gauntlets and boots were the only things relatively intact.

He wanted to rush forwards and grab his helmet, but it was still broken. This visor was cracked and metal shards went in every direction. The request from the marauder to keep his helmet off also burned in the back of his mind.

A man suddenly popped up from under the table, he was staring at the suit, “Ok I finally got the cables to connect, we are back in business!”

A woman popped up from the other side of the table, “Figures the most important diagnostic tool is the one that breaks first.”

The Slayer tried to gently clear his throat to let the two know he was in the lab, but it wasn’t a little “Ahem” it was more of a loud shout.

They both turned and screamed, nearly running away upon seeing the marauder until they realized the Slayer was standing beside him.

The woman grabbed her coworker, “WAIT! It’s ok, it’s him! It’s the Slayer!”

He froze and let out a little gasp, “Oh!! We’ve been fixing your suit and just taking some reads off of it.”

He was extremely embarrassed for scaring the shit out of these poor scientists, “Thank you.” Stepping forwards, through scattered piles of papers, he placed his hand on the leg of the suit.

“We’ve learnt a lot from our studies so far, specifically the argent capillary system that heals you, it’s beyond amazing.” The woman patted the upper arm of the suit and smiled at him.

The man remained a few steps away from the table, a little wary, “We did have a question…”

“Oh yes,” she turned to her coworker then back to the Slayer, “We were unable to open the gauntlets. A system override didn’t work, we even tried a black mesa grade crowbar!”

The man glared at her and coughed. As if to say, ‘Don’t tell the Slayer we were smacking his suit with a crowbar.’

He reached over and picked up the gauntlet, sticking his arm in and opening up his hand. The gauntlet opened with ease, the metal fingers unfolding like a flower. He withdrew and as soon as he did the fingers went back into a fist. “It's a system glitch. You have to manually open them up then do a system override. So they stay open.”

She nodded, “Ahhh I see. How would we manually open them up?”

He looked confused, “What I just did. Put hand in suit”

Her coworker looked shocked, and stepped towards the table. “You mean… putting on your suit? That would be disrespectful, sir-”

He grabbed both gauntlets and put one on the man and one on the woman. “I don’t care, try not to break anything.”

They both stared at their armored hands, the woman reached out her free hand and shook the Slayer’s, “Thank you.”

He did like how the humans respected him but they could be infuriatingly timid sometimes.

The marauder was leaning up against the door frame, “Do you wanna start to head back soon?”

The Slayer waved goodbye to the two, “Thank you, for keeping it safe.” He hurried out the door before he could hear them say “sir” thirty more times.

The walk back felt short, they mostly discussed Haru. The marauder was feeling better now that he saw the wolf but he hated thinking about him being sad. “I’m worried about him.”

“He’s gonna be fine.”

“Could we get a bag of blood from the hospital for him, just real fast?”

The Slayer paused and thought for a moment, he turned back to look at the demon. Crüe was giving him big puppy dog eyes, silently begging him. “One bag.”

The marauder turned and started running the long hallway towards the infirmary, “THANK YOU!”

The Slayer made the marauder wait inside the stairwell and snuck into the infirmary. It was nearly dusk most of the nurses walking about the hallways were gone.

He heard a discussion happening in a room and slowly walked over. It was a gruff voice talking to someone, but he left his clothes neatly folded sitting on a waiting bench right outside the closed door. They were a standard military ARC camo and a baseball cap.

As fast as he could the Slayer slipped the uniform over his plain gray shirt and pants and put the cap on his head. The grey clothes seemed to be the standard uniform for the patients and he didn’t want to get stopped by anyone. He hoped the cap would hide his face well enough. The more he wracked his brain he thought Crüe was right. It was weird how everyone knew his face. Was the news running stories with photos of him while he was in that coma? He put his hands in his pocket and prepared to go undercover-

There was something crinkly in the pocket like a wrapper of sorts that felt vaguely slimy. He pulled it out and examined the packaging. It was an open condom wrapper and he jumped back, throwing it at the wall. Well that explains the free clothes in the hallway.

Yucky.

He kept his head down and walked fast along the hallways, glancing up only to quickly read signs. Then finally he saw in bold lettering on the wall, “REFRIGERATION STORAGE.”

Blood was refrigerated, right… probably? He turned down the hallway and looked around until he found the door to the storage. It was chilly but the uniform made it bearable. He looked around, there were shelves in the center of the room and freezers against the outer walls. The shelves had boxes of medicine and bottles arranged on them, yet no blood, he walked over to the freezers and began opening them.

He nearly shit his pants upon opening the first freezer, it was a demon, a zombie, frozen inside a large plastic bag. It’s face was pressed up against the plastic like it was trying to escape as it froze.

He was met with similar results all around the room, most freezers had either tissue samples or preserved zombies. As much as he despised seeing humans do things with demons, based on the charting attached to the freezers, it seemed like these were actual scientific studies on if a zombie apocalypse was a worry.

He opened up the last freezer and was greeted with the sight of something far more tamer than the previous zombies. It was a man with bandages wrapped around the top half of his head, but he looked familiar, strangely familiar. Now that he thought about it he could remember his face hanging up in a picture frame on the UAC Mars base. The name, what was his name…

Suddenly it dawned on him, this was Dr. Samuel Hayden. This was his body. He glanced at the charting, most of it was stupid mumbo jumbo he didn’t understand. He did understand three sentences, the fact that he got his surgery to transfer his brain into a robot at the UAC, he had his body stored at the ARC for fear of it getting mixed up with the demon remains the UAC was storing, and he had lost his tongue to cancer.

He paused for a moment, did that mean his tongue fell out or that cancer took it over? Curiosity took over him and he reached down, touching Samuel’s jaw.

“Oh, do you need any help with anything?”

His jaw popped open and a long bloody disgusting tumor that had covered his tongue completely lolled out of his mouth. The Slayer reached up and slammed the freezer shut with enough force to nearly send it through the floor. “Sorry!” He turned, “I was just looking for something.”

It was a person, and they motined for him to follow, “You guys from the ARC military science division always get lost. What do you need?”

He gave a little nervous laugh and kept his head low, “Bag of blood, head researcher wants it.”

“Oh yeah I know how Elena can get. She’s a good head of a department but she’s a beast. I don’t think she ever sleeps!” They walked along the hallways motioning again for the man to follow, “I don’t bite, come on!”

He followed and tried not to think about Samuel. He wasn’t sure if he should bring up the fact that he found his body or not.

The two of them went down to a lab and the person brought out a pint of blood, “There you go! Good luck with Elena!”

“Thanks.” He whirled around and speedwalked back towards the marauder. Just as he turned the corner and spotted the door to the stairwell, but before he could reach it, a man wearing only his underwear stepped out of a room, “You took my clothes!”

The Slayer paused, taking time to process what he should do. He could duck and run into a room and jump out the window, or shove the man in a room, or run past him into the stairwell.

He elected for the second option, and charged the man, grabbing him by the face and shoving him into a room, crushing the handle with his bare hands. He shut the door and tore off the clothes he stole, including the hat and left them outside, now back to wearing his gray clothes. Then, he sprinted into the stairwell listening to the man pound on the door with rage.

He grabbed the marauder who was chilling by the door and dragged him down the flights of stairs.

Crüe spoke as they reached the maze-like hallways, “What happened to you? It took so long and I heard yelling.”

“I found Samuel’s human body and a dude I stole clothes off of caught me, but I got it.” He held up a hefty bag of blood. He was breathing heavily and his hair was all discombobulated.

The marauder could hardly process all that, but he gave the man a hug, “Thank you for going through all that for Haru.”

“I said I’d get him blood.” He smiled and gave the demon a little kiss on his neck.

“You can stay here. I’ll go give this to him.”

The Slayer didn’t want to leave the demon, what if he got hurt or lost or… he realized there wasn’t much that could hurt him with the walls of the city. He nodded and sat down, “Ok I’ll take you up on that offer.” He watched Crüe slowly walk along until he turned and began walking down a hallway out of sight. Slowly, his eyelids got heavier and heavier. He eventually dozed off, his body exhausted from all the fear and running.

It only took Crüe a fifteen minutes or so to go to the armory and give the blood to Haru. The wolf lapped it up happily and nuzzled against the demon. They both savored the moment they had just between them. A man and his dog, then, reluctantly, they parted ways vowing to see eachother again soon.

The Slayer woke up to Crüe carrying him into their bedroom and placing him on their bed. The man sat up.

Crüe groaned, “Aww dang I thought I could keep you sleeping.”

He yawned and laughed, “You didn’t have to carry me, thank you.”

“No problem.” The demon reclined in bed by the man and pulled him close.

He leaned against the demon’s chest, “Did Haru get the blood?”

He nodded, a little touched that the man asked, “Yeah he drank it all up and is a little bit better, thanks to you.”

Notes:

Thanks for all the comments and kudos. Please spam me with as many comments as possible I love them so much.

Chapter 45: (NSFW) Horns, Horns, Everywhere

Crüe woke expecting the familiar annoying pain of his horns growing and the bright light of the sun through their bedroom window, but he got neither.

His horns were fully grown and the moon still hung in the sky, but it was nearly ready to be gulped up by the sun’s rays.

A feeling of sheer joy rumbled through him, he rolled about the sheets, pillows, and blankets rubbing his new horns on everything. He almost sounded like he was purring.

It felt so good to not have a headache. He reached up and felt his horns. It felt so, so good to have his horns back and all full grown.

The ones on the side were relatively unchanged, just a few inches longer and a bit thicker. His side tines felt so wonderful and protective against the side of his head.

The main show was the horns on the top of his head, the main beam was so much thicker it was beginning to match his impressive height. They were skinny where they connected to his skull and abruptly got thicker then tapered to a sharp point. Halfway up his two horns, three inch long tines had adorned his horns. They curved upwards along with the main beam of his horns.

Rolling onto his back, he let out a loud sigh. He felt so handsome. Nearly borderline sinful levels of pride coursed through his veins. Of course he wasn’t sure if it was sin or just a bunch of “feel good” hormones trying to convince him his horn growth didn’t hurt. They were doing a fantastic job.

He rolled over again and accidentally smacked the Slayer in the face.

“Wha?” He jolted upright and looked over. “What happened?” A line of drool was running down the side of his face and he wiped it away.

Crüe gasped, “I was rolling over and I hit you. Are you ok?”

He yawned and laid back down nuzzling into the pillow, “Yeah I’m all good. Why were you rolling around?”

“Because I feel lovely right now.” He rolled on his back with a big grin on his face.

“So your horns feel good?” The man propped up his chin on his hand and smiled at the demon. “They stopped growing?”

“Yes!” He rolled over to face the Slayer, “Can you see them?”

The room was only lit by small strips of moonlight, “I can’t… could I feel them?”

“Of course.” Crüe leaned his head forwards.

He took them in his hands, rubbing and touching them. Feeling up and down the sides and top, he could hear the demon mumbling. “They’ve grown so much. I’m sure you're happy.”

“They feel so good when you touch them.” He pushed his head farther into the man’s touch.

“Like erotic?” The man blushed and his hands faltered.

“Kind of, but it mostly feels like a massage. I think just cause I haven’t done anything since me and you laid together is why it feels so, so good.” He leaned in and began kissing the man’s neck and chest.

The Slayer cupped the back of the demon’s head and laid back against his pillow, “You really haven’t done anything since we did stuff?”

“Haven’t had any time with the whole Icon thing. Now, we have all the time in the world now.”

The Slayer thought for a moment; then, pulled the demon in for a deep kiss, “What should we do first?”

He straddled the Slayer and began making out with him, putting his whole body into each kiss he was bestowing upon the man.

The man reached up and grabbed his fresh horns, using them to control the demon’s lust. He wanted to skip the teasing and get right to the meat of it. Reaching down he cupped the bulge in Crüe’s pants.

The demon flinched, his whole body withdrawing for a moment then, he continued on.

The Slayer stopped and looked terrified, “Too fast?”

Crüe hooked a finger under the man’s neckline and pulled down his shirt to kiss his collar bone. “Nothing,” he murmured, “Keep going, I’m fine.”

That put him off a little bit, but he trusted Crüe and continued, cupping and rubbing him gently with his hands. That didn’t seem to hurt him. The Slayer gave a little thrust with his hips, nearly seeing stars as he felt their intimacy. He gave one more little thrust, testing the waters to make sure it wasn’t hurting the demon, then he flexed his hips upwards hard and let out a breathy moan.

The marauder, on the other hand, did not moan. He jumped off the bed clutching his junk and screamed. “FUCK!”

That snapped the man out of his lusting, “Crüe! What happened? I’m sorry!”

“Nothing! I’m fine!” The demon tried to attempt crawling back in bed but the Slayer stopped him.

“You are obviously not fine!” He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.

The marauder stood awkwardly hunched over with a hand over his bulging pants, “I just gotta do a bit of… you know… ‘hedge trimming’ down there.”

“You don’t have any hair?” He paused and thought for a moment, “It all fell out when you became a marauder.”

Without saying a word, Crüe made direct eye contact and tapped the horns on the top of his head.

“Oh my god.”

“It’s not that bad I swear.”

The Slayer stared at him, concerned, “You have HORNS on your DICK?”

“YES, but there’s more nuance to it than that!” The marauder sat down on the bed, spreading his legs a good bit so as not to stab anything important.

“How does that even work?” He now regretted not looking at the demon's dick when he was helping him into the tub. The Slayer was getting flustered with all this talk about dicks.

“When my horns grow, they grow down there. Most of the time I have them trimmed down so they don’t prick. They are just like…” rubbing his fingers together, he struggled to find the right word but settled on one, “like texture. They are on the underside so when you thrusted you sent them sticking into my thigh.” He gave a bit of a nervous laugh. “Ouch.”

That seemed to calm the Slayer, “So if we’d wanna do other things I wouldn’t get stabbed? You’d trim them?”

Crüe kissed his head, “Of course, I have to trim them anyways or I’d stab myself.”

The Slayer leaned against him and patted his thigh, “Is your leg ok?”

“Yeah, I’m ok. Trust me there have been far worse incidents involving my dick spikes.” He didn’t elaborate but paused for a moment and patted the man’s head, “I might go trim them now, or else I’ll be up all night.”

The Slayer touched the bit of scraggly hairs that were growing on his chin, “I might shave too.” He went to hold his hand up to ask Vega what time it was but, remember that the AI wasn’t around anymore. Looking over his shoulder, he spotted the time on an alarm clock, 5:11 AM.

They both walked into the bathroom, slowly turning lights on. Both blinking, trying to adjust their eyes. The marauder began running the bath water. Making it devilishly hot, he hopped to replace the heat he lost crawling out from under the blankets.

The Slayer stood at the sink and was running the tap, waiting for the water to go warm while he dug through the medicine cabinet behind the mirror looking for a razor. “They gave us a bunch of little stuff like razors and soap and toothbrushes. Very sweet of them.”

The marauder started taking his clothes off, starting with his shirt.

The Slayer eyed the demon up in the mirror, just the way it was half open gave him a full view of his body. Watching him slowly remove his shirt made his heart start pounding.

He looked up as he tossed the shirt on the floor and began taking his pants off, “Enjoying the view?”

The Slayer closed the medicine cabinet and tried to contain himself, “Ahh sorry.”

“I don’t mind.” He removed his underwear and tossed them onto the side of the sink with a little laugh. “We’ll have to take care of your eons old virginity some time, right”

The Slayer’s mouth twisted in a warm little smile, and he felt oddly embarrassed, yet excited. He plucked them off the sink and dropped them on the floor. He began removing the pads of gauze off his face, pulling them off his forehead was easy, but his cheek stung after yanking the other off. The scar was bad, but not as bad as he expected.

Sitting on the side of the tub waiting for it to fill and listening to the water run, Crüe watched him, interested. He never had to learn to shave, only a few people in his dad’s family even had a little bit of hair. “Whenever your beard grows back could you teach me how to shave?”

The Slayer looked over, halfway done, “Sure.” He maintained strict eye contact with the demon. Then got back to shaving and finished up quickly. “Do you think I could see your… spikes?”

“I thought you’d never ask!” The marauder grinned, spread his legs, and held the tip upright, showing off the underside of his dick.

He timidly walked over, to get a better look.

It was a penis, that much was to be expected, and as promised there was a single row of four spikes. Each one was easily three inches long; some were probably even closer to four inches. They were wicked sharp and the man could see where they had pricked the demon’s inner thigh.

Minus the terrifying spikes, his dick was impressive. It was probably similar in length to his own, maybe a little longer, and a little bit skinnier. It looked beautiful, the Slayer found himself blushing looking at it. Thick purple veins ran across the shaft and it’s exposed head was tinged a deep reddish purple from the demon’s lust. The rest of the shaft was a similar color to the demon’s own grayish whitish skin, just a touch darker.

“It’s pretty.” The Slayer looked away, his face so red it looked like he was having an allergic reaction to the shaving cream.

The marauder was also blushing, and looked away too, “Thank you. Also your scar makes you look mean, I like it.” He wondered if he should ask the Slayer if he could see his cock, but the words were getting jumbled in his mouth.

The Slayer figured he knew what the demon wanted to ask, so he slowly pulled his pants and underwear down. His cock flopped out, rapidly going from a semi to fully erect at all the attention it was seeing.

The marauder gave it a look of surprise. The man’s dick was thick with a rather bulbous head. It was circumcised, like his own. Its length was probably just a bit smaller than his dick. His hand could probably barely close around the shaft. The Slayer had a good bit of hair around his crotch, it was a darker version of the brownish blond color of his hair but looked rather smooth and fluffy. His mind darted to all sorts of dirty thoughts, diving into the gutter so fast he would’ve broken the sound barrier.

The Slayer stood awkwardly, nervous at the demon’s silence. “You have me beat in the spike department.”

“You’re bigger than I expected.” He had to contain himself from licking his lips. If the man wanted to pound into him right here, right now he would fully accept. That’s why he decided to bring back his tool belt, it was where he kept a little tube of lube. Just in case an impromptu banging session popped up and needed to be taken care of with efficiency.

His heart was fluttering, “Thanks.” His face was so red he felt embarrassed. Glancing around the room, he tried not staring at the muscled specimen that was in front of him.

The demon reached behind him and shut the water off, “You can hop in the bathtub with me.”

“Ooh sure.” He took a step forward, but was halted by the marauder.

“I can take care of you real fast if you want.”

Now that made the Slayer pause, his love starved brain danced around inside his skull. He wanted to speak but all higher functions had been thrown out the window. With an excited nod he allowed the demon to proceed.

Crüe reached forwards and grabbed at the small of the man’s back, guiding him closer and closer. Slowly, he opened his mouth wide and let his tongue roll out, lapping at the sensitive tip.

As soon as his tongue touched the Slayer his thighs and abs tensed. His eyelids fluttered, as his brain fully devoted all its functions to accepting the wonderful feeling.

He teased the man mercilessly, using the tip of his ridiculously long tongue as both for pleasure and punishment.

The Slayer’s breathing was labored, every other breath was a wheezy gasp.

Crüe traced the veins of the man’s shaft with his tongue, and pulled the man even closer. He withdrew his slimy tongue and licked his own hand, lubing it up with his saliva. He began jerking him off, careful not to rip his sensitive flesh with his claws.

The Slayer moaned and rolled his head back. His hands wandered up and held onto the demon’s horns as he thrusted into his grip. “Fuck…”

His voice sounded rough and so seductive the marauder couldn’t contain himself any longer. Carefully, but rapidly, he opened his jaw wide and took the man’s dick into his mouth. As he felt his cheeks bulge out, he felt the sensitive spikes brush against his thighs causing a spike of pleasure to rush through him.

He wavered on his feet, the feeling of being inside something so warm was nearly too much to handle. The inside of the marauder’s skull— well the inside of his mouth was so interesting. His cheek was so warm and surprisingly fragile; the roof of his mouth and tongue were squishy but strong. He felt like he was in sensory overload.

Crüe was making sure to be extremely careful so the Slayer didn’t feel his exposed teeth as he bobbed his head. He wasn’t even able to take the man’s girth past the back of his mouth for fear of choking. His whole mouth was full of it, mid thrust his cheeks would dip inwards as the cock left his mouth only to plow back in and fill them out once more. He could feel the Slayer’s gasping and moaning get louder and louder, his thighs were quivering, and he tightened his grip on Crüe's impressive horns. That familiar fire began burning in his belly. He could barely get it out past his moaning, “Crüe, I’m close.”

Something about his name, that so often he correlated with people leaving him, being spoken by a lover, a true lover. A lover that was panting and gasping from his actions, teetering on the brink of pleasure. He wasn’t sure what made it that way, but it was easily the hottest thing he’d ever heard in his entire lifetime. Out of nowhere he orgasmed blindingly hard. It felt like he was hit by a bus if that bus was filled with hookers and viagra and those little complementary packs of lube. He wasn’t sure where his seed splattered, but he didn’t have much time to worry. A few moments later the Slayer pulled his head in and moaned, cumming into the demon’s mouth.

There was a long pause, as the Slayer held on, pumping out ropes of cum and making all sorts of little pleasure filled noises. He finally stopped, pulling out, and his body sagged with exhaustion.

The marauder swallowed the salty white fluid inside his mouth, simply because he was too lazy to find a trash can to spit it in. He didn’t even realize that he could come untouched like that by virtue of his long sensitive spikes.

The Slayer sat down next to him on the side of the bathtub. “I felt you cum.”

Crüe nodded and leaned his head on the man’s shoulder, “I think I might have splattered you.” The marauder looked down to see the man’s lower legs covered in a borderline obscene amount of cum. “See I told you if I didn’t jerk it often enough my balls would explode.”

The Slayer used his big strong hands to reach over and pull the demon in for a long kiss, savoring every moment their skin touched.

After the Slayer cleaned up, they both got in the tub, sinking down into the deep, warm bath water. They both just rested, not saying a word for a few minutes.

The marauder slowly began washing himself, specifically his horns. He dipped them in the water, cleaning them to a shine. Then, the demon looked down and sighed, “Shit I didn’t bring my spike clippers. They are all the way out in my tool belt on the table.”

The Slayer quickly got up and dried himself off enough to walk through their apartment, “I can go get them.” He walked out into the kitchen naked and grabbed the belt.

He brought it back to the demon who quickly began trimming at the spikes with a rather huge smile on his face. Crüe was barely able to contain his laughter.

“What?” The Slayer sat down in the bathtub staring at the demon with his leg draped over the side, hacking away with trimmers that nearly looked like miniature versions of the jaws of life.

Crüe burst into laughter, “It does look like a plus sign!”

The Slayer was confused for a moment, wondering if the demon lost his mind. Then it dawned on him that when he walked away Crüe got a full view of his unfortunate buttocks scar. “You're a little shit, I love you.”

After much more gentle bickering and chit chat the demon was done, he stood up triumphantly. “BEHOLD!”

His dick was now flaccid after thirty minutes of trimming and significantly less menacing. The four spikes were trimmed down to four tiny smooth textured bumps a few millimeters tall. The Slayer had to admit they actually looked pleasureful.

He gave a little clap, “Lovely.”

The demon bowed and puffed out his chest with a smile, “Thank you.”

The mood had been thoroughly killed by their banter and the sound of Crüe’s trimmer. “You wanna head out to the kitchen so we can watch Samuel give his dumb press release thing and eat breakfast?”

“Ooh sure!”

Notes:

If you’re wondering Crüe’s dick design totally came from the chart with all the demon dicks. It’s like the Rosetta Stone of doom fan-fiction smut writing.

https://mobile.twitter.com/killveous/status/1377732323848912896

Chapter 46: They Finally Get to Eat Waffles

Summary:

They finally get to eat waffles.

Crüe and the Slayer were cuddling on the couch in a mound of blankets, eating a stack of waffles. The demon was absolutely addicted to their syrupy deliciousness and the man knew he’d be fueling his addiction for a long time.

“Man, you really know how to make a mean waffle.” Crüe was snuggled right next to the Slayer, “When is it gonna start?”

The tv screen was a light blue background with a large ARC symbol overlaid. The voice of the main announcer from the Arctic safe zone, who had given hope to the masses, was speaking about the leaps and bounds made in the restoration efforts in the San Andreas chasm.

It was comforting, and the Slayer smiled. “Probably soon.”

Crüe finished up eating his pancakes and as soon as he placed his plate on the table the press release started up.

Samuel was standing at a podium and a camera panned around at a room full of reporters with microphones and cameras and most importantly notebooks full of questions. “The press release will begin now.”

He took a moment to arrange his papers and continued, “As many of you know, the Slayer is in the base currently, and he does have two demonic comrades with him.”

The room burst into a bustle of questions and the flashing of cameras. A loud voice yelled out, “What about their sightings around the base? Should they be avoided?”

Samuel was shocked at the sheer lung capacity of the reporter, “Yes, there have been quite a few ‘sightings’ of them. You don’t have to avoid the Slayer nor his comrades.” He winced, why did he keep saying comrades? “They are allies of humans and wouldn’t hurt a fly.” His mind flashed back to an image of the Slayer bending an imp in half until its head popped off. He wasn’t cut out for these press releases; he wanted to go back to his room and pet baby gargoyles.

As soon as he stopped talking the room erupted into a buzz of voices, he powered through them.

“The two demonic comrades,” He panicked. What was another name for comrades? “are as the rumors have stated. The marauder, named Crüe, and a gargoyle named Daisy.”

“C-R-E-W?”

“Uhh no, it’s Crüe.”

“WHAT?”

He leaned over the podium, “C-R-Ü-E.”

The reporters nodded, “With the little dots above the U?”

Samuel nodded, annoyed, “Yes.”

“Daisy or Mazie?”

“D-A-I-S-Y!” He yelled out to the reporters.

“With dots above the A?”

“NO!” He shook his head and continued on, wondering if he should have let the humans perish in hell’s wrath, “Recently, two more members were added to the demon fighting trio.” He motioned to a screen behind him that faded to a picture of Daisy’s two children. He smiled to himself, there was no better way to control the masses like adorable pictures of cute things.

“Awwww’s” and murmurs of joy echoed around the room.

Crüe poked the Slayer, “Look how cute they are!”

He nodded and snuggled up against the demon.”Why does he keep calling us comrades?”

The demon laughed and shrugged.

“I know many of you knew about Daisy long before this meeting, and I apologize to all the people who have had their lunches stolen by her. She is not aggressive but very annoying.” While the Slayer and Crüe were still in their comas Daisy had been a PR disaster, constantly running out of vents and eating from kitchens or taking people’s lunch trays and eating everything delicious. Luckily, everyone, upon seeing the gargoyle that was tame, was somewhat more relaxed with her.

“Sir, what about the file packages?” A young man near the front spoke up just pound enough for him to hear.

“Ahh the file packages.” He hoped to avoid that topic and even more so hoped the Slayer wasn’t watching, “Those were made and sent by the AI Vega for the identification of the Slayer’s body in case of tragedy. The files were originally locked and opened upon the few moments his heart stopped after fighting the Icon. Please be respectful when looking at the images and the biography written about his life.”

The Slayer slowly set his waffle plate down, “That’s why everyone could recognize me!”

Crüe licked syrup off his face, “What does he mean by being respectful?”

The man furrowed his eyebrows and grabbed his phone, looking up, ‘DoomSlayer file pictures’ He was greeted with a tabloid news story banner that was of him in the shower his crotch censored. The title of the story read, ‘USING AI MAPPING TO CALCULATE THE SLAYER’S EXACT DICK SIZE.’

“What is it?” The marauder went to peer over his shoulder. He read the title and burst into laughter. “Wait, did they censor your dong or did Vega?”

The man groaned, and another quick search led to him finding that Vega did in fact censor everything before he sent it out, which comforted him. “I mean I can understand stuff for body identification but Vega went overkill.”

The marauder peered over his shoulder and began reading part of Vega’s biography he wrote about the Slayer out loud, “In all the moments of our time together I’ve come to appreciate the man who has saved humanity. I hope that when I am gone humanity will take care of my colleague… my friend... the Slayer. My hope is that I’ll be long gone before these files ever release, but as I prepare to go to Urdak I would like to echo my final statement, as stated much, much earlier in page 30,758 of this text, I wish him the best and I will miss his companionship.”

The man made a little ‘Hmm’ noise. “I miss you too, bud.”

The marauder leaned his head against the Slayer and spoke, “Do you think he loved you? I hope I didn’t mess anything up.”

“I doubt it,” the Slayer looked down at the message, skimming it, “That’s Vega for you, I just didn’t realize he cared about me this much.” He knew the AI “loved” him but probably not in a romantic sense, and even if he did, he didn’t want to think about Vega anymore than he had to. It hurt too much.

“How long will the Slayer, Crew, and Däisy be staying at the ARC New York base?”

The ongoing press release caught his attention, he looked up, not knowing how much he had missed.

Samuel seemed to debate in a moment, “They are currently resting and recovering. Once their injuries are healed, we can then discuss the next course of action.”

“What is the next plan?” Crüe leaned against the man more, poking at his ribs to annoy him.

“Probably teleporting us around to different areas and having us fight pathetically tiny groups of demons.” The Slayer had to admit that sounded boring. It was like the nine to five office job of demon slaying. Of course, it would be nice to not have to struggle for a while. “We could sneak out and do a bit of slaying right outside the walls tonight if you want.”

The marauder had to admit he was itching to swing his axe around, “Sounds like a plan!”

“No.”

The both looked up to see Samuel leaning in the doorway, glaring daggers at them both. With a deep mechanical breath, he stepped forwards and shut the door. “Neither of you are going out. I couldn’t even trust you to follow me back from Daisy’s room!”

The Slayer looked between Samuel and the ongoing press conference where he was talking about the city shutting off power at night to conserve energy.

“It’s recorded thirty minutes ahead of time. So if there’s a rowdy reporter they can be cut.” He walked over to the recliner and sat down, crossing his legs. “I’m both pissed at you for running from me, but thank you for not doing something stupid.”

The Slayer nodded his head just like how a person who didn’t break into a hospital to steal blood and feed a wolf would nod their head. “Oh yeah no problem, we were too tired anyway.”

Samuel wasn’t sure if that was implying that if they had more energy they would have made his life hell, but it was in the past now, “I mean you are allowed to go wherever you please. Just… behave.”

The Slayer knew Samuel was now gonna keep him on a tight leash for at least the rest of the day. No sneaking around tonight.

“Also!” He held out a silver piece of metal and held it out.

The Slayer took it, flipping it over confused. “What is this?”

“It’s your banking card, paid for by ARC. You’ll get paid for going on missions but the card already has a balance from what you’ve done on earth.” Samuel waved his hands about as he explained it, “It’s mostly trivial since ARC is obviously paying for your food, healthcare, and housing. They figured you’d both like it as a little way for them to show appreciation.”

The Slayer nodded it was a cute idea. He couldn’t even think of anything he’d wanna buy. “Tell em I said thanks.”

He nodded, servos whirring loudly.

He chuckled and handed the card to Crüe for him to examine, “Now the UAC as a thank you would have probed me or sent me into bumfuck nowhere to find my way home, see the ARC is so much better.”

“I’ll tell Elena you said that.” He moved his neck as one would mock rolled their eyes.

Crüe looked up at the sound of her name, “Who is that lady? I keep hearing her name but I never see her.”

“She’s the head of all the research, health, and biology departments. She runs nearly half of the ARC.” He tapped his chin, “In fact I’m surprised you haven’t seen her. She’s a huge fan of you, Slayer.”

A realization crashed over him, “Oh, THAT Elena Richardson! She had all those audio logs at the ARC complex.”

“How many Elena Richardsons did you think work at ARC?” He scoffed at the man, but it wasn’t as mean as his usual snide laughter. As far as he could remember, he didn’t think Elena had submitted any audio logs about the Slayer to the ARC database.

“I’d like to meet her soon. Her audio logs really helped me.” When he had been feeling so lonely and depressed it didn’t cure him, but listening to someone put every ounce of their hope into him felt nice. Then he and the marauder fought for the first time soon after that and the painful healing process made him nearly forget about all that.

“Oh could you buy stuff online with this? I’ve seen ads of humans doing that in the hell areas.” Crüe held up the card, mesmerized.

Samuel nodded, “Oh yes, of course anything you order will be delivered to the lobby of the building you can just go down and grab it.”

Crüe nodded happily and grinned.

The Slayer could only imagine what he was thinking about buying. He supposed they’d have to work out finances which would sort of be nice. Something normal and mundane.

Samuel heard the familiar ringtone of his tablet and looked down to see a notification from the infirmary, “Ah Daisy’s up and about again with her kiddos. I’ve got to head down there and sign paperwork. I’ll come back later tonight to check on you two.”

The Slayer nodded, groaning under his breath. Why did Samuel feel the need to stick his faceplate into everyone’s business?

As soon as he shut the door Crüe leaned against the Slayer and hugged him, “Shall we barricade the door?”

That made the Slayer give a little chuckle, “No, he’d crawl through the vents.”

“I’m starting to wonder if we even have a lock on that thing.” The marauder began kissing the man’s neck, lovingly. He savored every moment the man wasn’t wrapped up in armor.

“Ooh, buy one.” He handed Crüe his phone and laid down, resting his legs across the demon’s lap.

Absently mindlessly massaging the man’s legs, he began looking up locks. When he was a champion demon in hell he had a similar situation as this one. Everything was paid for but he got a small salary for killing sentinels with his battalion. It was nice to be able to purchase little trinkets and toiletries, blankets and snacks. It made being in hell slightly more bearable. He found shopping rather fun, but as he scrolled down seemingly endless pages he found the online aspect was a lot more boring than visiting shops. “This one has two five star ratings, but this one has twenty four star ratings.”

“Probably the one with more reviews would be better.” The Slayer yawned and tucked his hands behind his head, making a makeshift pillow.

“This one has a single one star review…” he clicked and read the review, “Awful couldn’t stop my son from eloping and getting married without me!! AND I got LOCKED out of my hotel room!!!”

“Please tell me that’s not real.”

“It’s from Amanda. Would Amanda lie?” The marauder jokingly huffed and went back to the more serious choices. He ended up going with a rather simple chain lock because he thought it would be rather funny to see Samuel glaring through the crack in the door. “Think this is good?”

Readjusting his makeshift pillow, he yawned again, “Whatever you think is best Crüe. Just get one and we could elope from Samuel if need be.”

Crüe continued massaging the man’s legs with his free hand as he entered in the card numbers, “Oh could I buy a few other things?”

“Oh course sugar baby.”

The marauder jokingly slapped his leg, but was certainly flustered, “I didn’t even know you knew what that was!”

“I’m older than you! Of course I know! When I first joined the marines back on my earth we always talked about dumb shit.”

“So your universe has sugar daddies?” Crüe rolled his glowing red eyes.

“Ironically, yes that is one of my most vivid memories. Shooting the shit with a bunch of angry, horny marines.” The Slayer thought for a moment. “What are you gonna get?”

“It’s a secret. Don’t worry I’ll show you when it comes.” He smiled at his own phrasing.

Whatever the demon was ordering, it made the Slayer excited to be getting a present. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Notes:

I love the domestic fluff between them, It heals me.

My personal opinion is Waffles>Pancakes. The design of waffles is built for syrup and butter, it always just slides right off the pancakes for me.

Chapter 47: Volatile, Yet Lovely

Notes:

Happy 2023! Y’all are gonna be getting a lot more Doompet this year.

The rest of the morning was uneventful. The Slayer rested while the marauder skipped from website to website enjoying free reign of the internet. He loved news articles about the Slayer. They puffed the man up to be an untouchable idol and talked about his abs or dick in the same breath. It was great entertainment for the demon and reminded him of the articles hell once wrote about him back in his prime.

The man just napped, his body draped across the demon’s chest and hips, enjoying the warmth and constant, comforting lullaby of his breathing. Until he felt a poke on his neck, making him jerk up on his hands and swing his head towards the poke, protecting his neck. He could barely form words yet as he blinked himself awake so he just growled at the annoyance, “What?”

Crüe looked adorably handsome and smug as he set the phone down, “It’s almost 10 AM and you’re still sleeping!”

He laid back down, realizing there was no threat, “You’re one to talk, you're still laying on the couch! I’m sleeping in today.”

The warmth made Crüe’s muscles ache for exercise, and he could barely stand laying down any longer. He looked over at the window, which magnified his urge to go out in the warm sunshine, “I’m gonna go for a walk. Do you wanna come?”

Two tired eyes opened out of a mound on arms and hair and glared at him, “Mhhhmm… yes but I don’t want to move.”

He went to roll his eyes at the man, but his gaze lingered on his face, taking in the scars and facial features, so beautiful… so, so beautiful… “I’m gonna take these pajamas off and get dressed in some clothes. Are you ok with me going alone then?”

The Slayer nodded, rubbing his face, and the sensitive skin around the scar on his face, “You don’t need my permission. That's a good idea to get some fresh air.”

Getting ready was easy, he brushed his teeth and tossed on a T-shirt with an ARC logo and some normal black pants. As he was leaving he brought out a blanket from the bedroom and tucked the man in.

He looked up, with sleep in the corners of his eyes, “I don’t wanna diss you.” After all that walking yesterday, the Slayer couldn’t bring himself to do anything. He felt old; his hip and leg hurt. He did worry about the scars left on his face, belly, and leg by the Icon of sin. They healed slowly and left tender pink skin in their wake. Luckily they were almost gone.

“Get some rest, I'm gonna do some exploring.” He walked over to the large window and opened one of the panels slightly. Traffic and the distant chatter of people filled the room.

The Slayer smiled and listened to all the joyous noises. It sounded like a choir to his ears.

The marauder opened the door and headed out, “See you in a bit.”

“Be safe.”

“I will!” He walked along hallways till he reached the elevator and took it down to the lobby. For an odd reason it felt nice to go do something all on his own for once, even if it was just a walk.

A few people waved and he waved back. They all seemed much less terrified of him now and a little more subdued. Perhaps Samuel’s press conference had helped humans not see him as a threat, but he didn’t care to see if that was the case and hurried out of the building and down an alleyway.

The city was beautiful, despite the obvious scars left by the demons. He reached out and placed his hand on a pile of calcified sentient adipose, the fleshy hell growths that had taken over the city. Little plants and even a small sapling were growing out of it, despite being in a relatively shady alleyway.

Continuing on, he stepped out of the alley, and looked around at the area in front of him. There was a road with a few cars on it. People driving to and fro, armies vehicles, and delivery trucks. Tall buildings rose up all around him. A block or two away there were three more getting built by cranes. The humans certainly didn’t waste any time in getting back to their weirdly tall architecture.

The bustle of the street and noises of construction were a bit too much for him. Crüe headed down the street hoping to find a park or someplace quiet.

He kept wandering around until he finally came upon at least a more calming place. It was the section of the city with the flooded streets. He walked on a pathway looking over the railing at all the fishes swimming about far below him. He put his hands in his pockets and walked farther down the railing. It looked like he would be able to walk around the entirety of the flooded area, and he decided to do so. The whole lake was twenty feet or so below the railing, making a sheer cliff face of rubble stop the marauder from walking down to the water’s edge.

Cars, asphalt, and rubble made up the bottom of the lake. The destruction could be seen clearly through the water. He found himself mesmerized by the water and the fact that there was so much of it. He could see where small streams flowed into the larger lake, baffling him further. How much water did this planet have on it?

Argent D'Nur mainly had streams and small rivers that ran above ground for a mile or two then dipped far below the surface into unexplored lakes filled with monsters. The poles were the only exception as the world spear had broken into the underwear reservoirs and brought them to the surface. Even still, seeing this much water on the surface with no world spear was amazing.

As he walked the saplings became trees and the trees became denser and denser, until there was a small forest, offering shade below. It was peaceful. Slowly, the railing stopped and the path moved a few feet away from the sheer edge. He knew he’d have to take the Slayer here and show him this place.

Out of nowhere a pigeon landed in front of him cooing loudly, startling him out of his thoughts. Its red beady eyes stared at the demon.

“Hey I don’t want any trouble.” Crüe backed away from the perturbed bird. He heard another loud coo behind him and slowly turned. There were two pigeons behind him and when he looked in front of him again there were three more in front of him.

He was concerned but mainly confused. “Hey come on shoo!”

More pigeons started swarming until there were thirty or forty cooing pigeons in a circle around him.

Crüe wished he had his axe or Haru. Haru would quickly devour all of these little beasts.

A pigeon flew at him and tried to land on his arm.

He smacked it away and yelled, “I’ll fuck you up!”

A purple mist materialized out of the corner of his eye and a voice spoke out, “Crüe they are just pigeons. They want food.”

The demon turned to face the voice. It was Marty, standing a few feet away from him holding a loaf of bread.

He ripped off a piece and tossed in down the pathway. The swarm hurried to the piece of crust nibbing on its deliciousness. “If you’d be ok with it, I’d like to walk with you. We don’t have to discuss, but-“

Crüe shook his head, “No, we can talk, it's fine.” He very much didn’t want to talk to Marty, but I’d be impossible not to. The demon only lived a few buildings away and could be at their apartment in minutes. He knew he could take Marty down if need be, but he made sure not to turn his back on the demon.

They began walking in a tense silence, with two arms length of distance between them, full of an awkward fog.

Marty broke the ice, “So… you’re living with the Slayer. How did that happen?”

Crüe felt a bubble of anger rise up, and he immediately wanted to say something snarky back to Marty, but he resisted, “He was injured and I helped him. In return he let me be his roommate.”

The demon nodded, taking in that information, “Do roommates sleep in the same bed? I noticed whenever I was taking care of you that only one bed’s covers were disturbed.”

He balled his fists and glared at the demon who was facing forward, looking down the trail. Anger ran through him so fast he didn’t even know how to respond.

“Sorry if that was too forward.” Marty looked over at the marauder who might as well have had steam coming out of his head. He was that angry. “I won’t tell anyone. It’s just that you two are certainly an interesting couple.”

Crüe was simultaneously upset and enraged. On one hand he wanted to shout from the rooftops that he was in love with the Slayer, but the thought of the embarrassment it would bring the man made him sad.

He had hoped that would have been something gentle to break the ice with but that was akin to dropping a nuclear bomb. He felt on edge and prepared to teleport away at any moment. Any sliver of patience Crüe had was vaporized. He decided he had already nuked his chance so he might as well get the words out, “I regret what I did to you, and I’m glad you’re ok.”

They both stopped walking and Crüe looked down at the demon. That was short and direct, very fitting for Marty.

Marty continued, “I trusted Mez and she encouraged me to do it. In a perfect world I should have asked you first and tried to reason with you, but I knew what you’d say so… I decided for you.” Marty looked up at the demon, his three golden eyes were narrowed. “I understand if you hate me.”

He paused and considered everything. Marty would never back down, but he did save him when his horns grew. Conflicting waves of emotions rushed through him and as much as he wanted to hate Marty and hold a grudge forever… he didn’t.

It was weird but he understood the demon in a way. Marty was trying to do what he thought would be best for Crüe. Marty thought he was putting him out of his misery, but miraculously he survived. He was a one and only miracle and Marty just happened to be caught in the middle of it. Crüe pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned, “I don’t… hate you.” That was harder to say out loud than he would have liked to admit. “But I was an adult that was fully capable of making my own decisions. Don’t try and baby me or protect me from the truth anymore.” He reached out a hand which the prowler gladly took.

They shook on something whether they knew it or not. A pact of sorts that tied one of them to a single fate.

“I can accept that.” He nodded.

He put a hand on his shoulder, “So no more hiding the truth?”

Marty gave a grin, “Of course not. You have my word.”

Crüe nodded his horned head, happy to have at least a possible demon friend again. “It’s nice to see you’re even still around. I assumed the Slayer would have gotten you.”

He shook his head and they continued walking, “Hell kicked me out pretty fast after what happened. It’s easy to avoid the Slayer when you’re on your toes constantly, avoiding every living thing. I got chased through a portal to earth and ended up in the arctic safe zone. After a lot of discussions, the humans decided to trust me and well here I am!”

“What ever happened to Mez?” They began walking again; the horde of pigeons followed them at a distance, their mighty wrath only held off by a few breadcrumbs Marty dropped every now and then. .

Marty shook his head, his golden eyes turning away from Crüe and looking out over the lake. “When we were on the run she showed her true colors. She tried to turn me in to free herself. I did what I had to do.”

Crüe nodded. He never expected Marty to actually have the balls to kill someone. Well, kill someone in cold blood that is.

Another pigeon landed and promptly demanded food. Marty tossed it a few torn off chunks of bread. “Oh also I’ve been feeding the pigeons around here for weeks and they associate demons with food. So you’re gonna get harassed by them a lot.”

Crüe wrinkled his nose, “Oh wonderful.”

They walked until they were about halfway around the lake. Trees here were the thickest, rising up twenty or thirty feet about the ground. A deep rumble could be felt echoing up from the ground.

“What is that?”

The prowler motioned him along, “Something I’ve never seen before I came here.”

He led Crüe through a tangle of brambles and trees and led him out to a clearing. He looked down and was shocked at what he saw. A massive waterfall was rumbling through the landscape. Mist rose up high into the air and Crüe could smell the humidity of the clean water. It was a hundred times bigger than the waterfalls there were on Argent D’Nur. “Holy shit!”

Marty leaned closer, yelling over the crashing water, “This ain’t even the biggest one these humans got. There’s one even bigger called Niagara Falls! It’s a hundred times bigger than this!”

Crüe was amazed at the earth. This planet was so volatile, yet lovely. He supposed it made sense the Slayer came from a place like this.

They continued on in relative silence, passing the halfway point. It was uneventful other than a few stops to feed pigeons and a little bridge they had to cross over. Marty stopped, “Oh hey would you wanna go down to the water’s edge?”

“How? It’s steep all the way around.” Crüe peered out at the lake.

“One of the streams that enters in a quarter mile up has a trail next to it that makes it easy. Also sometimes there are ducks there too.”

“Ooh.” He was sold on seeing these ducks and they continued their hike.

Marty was right, the trail wasn’t that hard to get down and when they reached the bottom there was a family of ducks paddling around lazily.

They swam up upon seeing the prowler with a loaf of bread and he proudly tossed them a few pieces. “They are such sweet little things.”

Crüe agreed and they discussed the ducks, sitting in the warm sun. He rolled up his pant legs and let his feet hang down in the water.

The prowler seemed to be willing to earn Crüe’s trust again, but something felt wrong. He knew the demon was a calculating creature. He doubted good will was all he was interested in.

Chapter 48: (NSFW) Sex and Smoothies

Notes:

50% smut, 50% important plot

Perfectly balanced as all things should be.
Next chapter will be released March 4 at 3:00 pm EST.

(Gonna give myself a schedule so I don’t forget)

The Slayer woke up to the gentle murmur of the city, and he had one thing on his mind. Which was odd. Well, not the fact that a single thing was on his mind, that was a normal everyday occurrence. He constantly thought about demons and his crusade, but this wasn’t about demons.

At first he was confused at what he was feeling. He laid on the couch staring up at the ceiling, fiddling with his thumbs, trying to work out what his brain was telling him to feel. Emotions were rarely his strong suit, but he soon realized what had to be done. Reluctantly, he sat up.

He hadn’t felt like this since the invasion first started in this world and he was freed from his coffin.

He was horny.

Now sure he had done horny things with Crüe but this was completely his own body and mind getting him riled up for nothing. He debated waiting until the demon came home to help him, but wouldn’t want to make him uncomfortable if he didn’t want to fuck at the moment.

He wasn’t hard yet but he could feel it quickly coming on. The urge to resist the feeling did pop up in the man’s mind, but his dick vetoed that idea quickly.

“Fine, fine.” He sat up with a groan and realized he didn’t have his suit. Honestly, he hadn’t masturbated without his suit since he began his hell crusade. Perhaps that was a sign to try something new.

Feeling his dick throb against his underwear forced his attention back to getting his rocks off. Reaching out to the coffee table, he grabbed his phone. His first three searches were:

“Internet privacy VPN download.”

“How to know if the ARC is reading my search history?”

And finally

“Porn…”

He stopped on the last search, taking a moment to even remember what he was into. The idea of watching two dudes hardcore fuck was somewhat unappealing. A woman’s body didn’t seem appealing. He sat with his phone in his hand, scrolling through generic porn categories, uninterested in most of them. His free hand was cupping his crotch, occasionally giving it a little rub.

Eventually, he got up and walked in the bedroom, realizing that Samuel could open their apartment door at any second. As he sat down on the side of the bed, he finally spotted something good.

It was an extremely generic video with two dudes jerking each other off. It was a little raunchy but not too hardcore for him. His face flushed as the video started and a familiar short tune played out before the show began.

The two started kissing and doing the generic opening of nearly every porno.

The Slayer watched intensely, slowly hooking his fingers into his waistband and pulling down the elastic. He stripped everything under the belt naked.

His dick was twitching, fully erect and basically screaming at him to fucking go. He honestly debated if he even needed the porn he could probably masturbate to a houseplant and get his rocks off just as good he was so horny.

He took it in his hand and began stroking, slowly. It was so sensitive. Leaning back against the headboard, he groaned and squeezed his eyes shut, enjoying the feeling. His breath was getting faster and faster with each stroke.

A moan from his phone made him look down at the porno. The two dudes were going at it, and the Slayer tried to match the tempo of their strokes with his own.

He could feel himself getting close and backed off for a bit. Moments like this were rare and he wanted to enjoy himself. In all of his time fighting hell he had only jerked off maybe a half dozen times in eons.

He found himself longing for Crüe. Images of him and the demon reenacting what he was watching flashed through his head. His strokes became faster and subconsciously he bucked his hips into them.

A throaty whine escaped his lips. It sounded needy and desperate, so much unlike the Slayer that the man was surprised he could even make a noise like that. It almost embarrassed him but he knew no one else was in the apartment so he let himself be loud.

He groaned and gasped at the pleasure he was giving himself, pulling away and teasing when he got too close to orgasming.

The porno ended and he clicked on the next video, not even caring what it was. It was two more dudes moaning and huffing loudly, grabbing onto each other and they fucked.

It was a bit loud but he wasn’t going to stop. With pleasure ringing through his body, he kept going and thrusting.

While he was busy with himself the marauder came home from his adventure, hoping the Slayer was doing something that would take his encounter with Marty off his mind. He opened the apartment door to the sound of moaning and bunch of little “fuck yes, fuck yes!” from the bedroom.

Slowly, he creeped over to the bedroom door and peeked in, he could see what the Slayer was doing and quickly drew back, giving him privacy. Well, that was one way to get his mind off Marty… Really, if it was any other partner he would have ripped off his clothes and leaped on the man’s dick like a rabid, feral beast, but he wanted the Slayer to have plenty of space for himself.

Turning on the TV, he put the volume on low to not disturb him and waited.

The Slayer moaned and felt the now familiar build up of pressure. The porn was almost over and his arm was getting tired. He grabbed a tissue off the nightstand and finished into it. His body nearly damn vibrating into the air with pleasure as he did. Deleting the porn tab, his cleanup was quick and he went into the bathroom to freshen up. He ran his wet fingers through his sweaty, matted hair and stared at his face in the mirror.

His eyes darted towards the door of the bathroom as he heard noise from the TV. Gathering himself, he stepped out into the bedroom and walked into the living room, “Oh you’re back already.”

Crüe was sitting on the couch completely and utterly invested in the nature documentary series that was on. Two massive mountain goats with long curly horns were charging and ramming each other. He looked up, “Oh! Hey!” As the Slayer sat down on the couch the demon put his arm around him and pointed at the goats, “Look at this you're not gonna believe this.”

The two goats charged and smashed their skulls together, their horns rattling with the force.

His body jumped with excitement at the sound of the skulls crunching together and he pumped his fist into the air, watching with a grin, “I could totally do that.”

The Slayer knew in the best case scenario the demon would get a concussion. He practically laughed at him, “Oh please!”

He squeezed the man’s shoulders and shook him playfully, “Remember when I rammed the Khan? I can do cool stuff!” He snuggled against the Slayer but still was fixated on his show.

There was a slight bit of uncomfortably hanging in the air. The Slayer wasn’t sure if he should mention the fact that he was jerking it or not. “Umm… sorry if you heard me. I didn’t realize-“

Crüe shook his head and looked up, “No, no, you’re good. I can give you space or help you out if you want.” He decided that he’d mention Marty later, no need to ruin a perfect mood. Besides, what was there to even say? Suddenly a ding from his phone distracted the Slayer. It also pulled Crüe out of his thoughts, “Ooh who is it?”

The man tapped the screen with the demon looking over his shoulder and it opened directly into a porn tab. He jolted and nearly threw the phone across the room, realizing the second video he watched pulled up a second tab. Quickly he deleted it and backed out of the search engine, “Sorry.”

Crüe chuckled and pushed his body against the Slayer, “That happened when I was trying to show a Hell Priest a map of some battle plans. I forgot I shoved a porno pic in there. Nearly gave the Deag a heart attack.”

He was honestly too embarrassed to find comfort in the fact Crüe had done that before and quickly got back on topic, “Now let me check who that was.” After a few clicks that didn’t lead to a porn site, he began reading, “It's Samuel. He said he’s bringing Daisy up and he wants to ask me a few questions. That’s odd.” He looked over at the demon. “Should I go wash up? Do I look ok?”

“You look marvelous.” The demon flopped backward and relaxed into the couch cushions. “It has felt odd without Daisy constantly by our sides. I miss her.”

He nodded, “I know I can’t wait to get everyone back together. I should probably order groceries too. We are gonna have a lot of mouths to feed.” Stretching and turning, he peered over at the kitchen. “Plus we should work out finances too.”

Crüe hated doing finances or budgeting normally, but doing it with the Slayer sounded rather pleasant. “Sounds good to me.”

“Also it was considerate of Samuel to text ahead of time maybe he’s changing-“

There was a knock at the door and Samuel announced, “I’m coming in.” Without even waiting for an answer, he opened the door and strutted into the room, unfolding his full height once he was inside.

A blur of wings and teeth leapt up on the couch and into the Slayer’s lap. Daisy was whimpering with joy. Finally, she was out of the stupid hospital and with her Slayer.

He held her close and smiled at how far they had come. All the way from a scared little gargoyle and a depressed man to a kick ass team.

Samuel handed the two squabs to Crüe and sat down in the recliner that was quickly becoming his usual spot.

The Slayer kissed the top of her head and kept petting her, she wiggled her hands in his face, showing she completed her physical therapy. He assured her that she would be getting her weapons soon enough, “So what did you want to talk about?”

Samuel adjusted himself in the chair and spoke. “Well the ARC has been reviewing both of your health profiles and they’d like you both to try and drink some of these smoothie things.”

“Smoothie things?” The Slayer didn’t understand.

“I personally think it’s stupid as well, but they want to try to bulk both of you up. Also you have a tendency to grow muscles then atrophy them to hell and back which is awful for your body.” That last sentence was directed specifically towards the Slayer. The man would go from looking like a hulking steroid infused beast to a string bean after just a little bit of time in a coffin. He was still built like a brick… but a more atrophied brick.

The Slayer snorted and rolled his eyes, “Well maybe if I didn’t have people shoving me in coffins and sending me to the deepest pits of hell after my missions I’d be able to stay a little bit healthier.”

Crüe stared at Samuel as he held Daisy’s precious little children. He placed his hand on the Slayer's arm, comforting him. “He does have a point.”

“Well, that’s not the point I’m trying to make. Look, ARC made you these little packets that if you put them in water they’ll become a little smoothie.” Samuel set one on the coffee table and slid it towards him. “They are for you too Crüe. I can mix up the first one now if you’d like.”

The marauder made an effort to distract the two hotheads from ripping each other to pieces. “Sure, why not?”

Samuel ignored the Slayer muttering under his breath and walked into the kitchen, mixing the powder with some water. He expected it to be chunkier like a smoothie as ARC claimed but it was more like a flavored Gatorade. He handed it to the demon, but Doomguy grabbed it instead.

“I’ll taste it first,” The Slayer gave the mixture a sniff and side-eyed Samuel. “It smells like shit.”

Daisy butted her way in and was also sniffing the mixture, her squabs were napping on the couch, uninterested in the drama.

“Just drink a little bit.” Samuel tapped his own chin. “It can’t be that bad. It looks cherry flavored.”

“Here let me take a sip.” Crüe snatched the drink back and drank a little bit, nodding. “Ooh I like that!”

The Slayer huffed and put the glass to his lips, trying to pound the thing like a shot. He only got one gulp in before a disgusting taste of iron covered his tongue. “It tastes like shit!” Slamming the drink down, the Slayer leapt up and spat out the contents of his mouth into the kitchen sink. “I’ll gut you alive!”

Daisy ran over and was trying to comfort him, while the marauder held her kids, “What’s wrong?”

The Slayer was so enraged he could barely contain himself, “You fucker!”

Samuel stood and walked over picking up the drink, “Is it the flavoring?”

His nostrils flared as he whirled around to face Samuel, slamming his hands on his kitchen counter, “What the hell is it flavored with?!”

Samuel picked up the package and read it out loud, “Flavored with chocolate and- OH!” He started laughing so hard his whole chassis shook, “Oh my god they put demon blood in these!” He turned the packet’s ingredient list towards the Slayer then back so he could read it again, “Powdered demon blood. I didn’t even know that was a thing.”

Crüe took another gulp, “The blood is a little strong, are you ok?”

He was lucky to have Crüe, “Yes.” He said through gritted teeth. He walked over to Samuel and snatched the cup out of his hand. “I'm not drinking that shit.” He couldn’t believe people actually believed that he drank demon blood. Vaguely, he remembered Crüe mentioning it months ago, but he didn’t realize it was that widespread of a myth.

The marauder plucked the cup out of the Slayer’s hand and began drinking the demon blood mixture, “Well I think it’s delicious! It reminds me of what I used to drink in hell.” He seemed nostalgic for a half second before snapping out of it. Just the taste of the blood on his tongue made it feel like kind distant memories were bubbling to the surface.

Samuel nodded, knowing to take a win when he got it, “One out of two, that isn't bad.”

The Slayer sat back down on the couch, pouting, and they all returned to their seats.

Crüe spoke up through sips, “Anything else?”

“No not really,” Samuel reclined in his chair, “Except for the new curfew being instated. They are gonna be shutting the lights off at night. We don’t have enough coal to keep everything running 24/7. It’s terrifying.”

“What about the solar panels you told me about?” He asked.

“They broke a few hours ago. We are running on barely anything now.” There was a hint of concern in his voice, “There’s rumors we are close to finding a new energy source, but who knows.”

The Slayer thought for a moment. He felt sick with worry in his mind and blood on his lips. The humans would fall without power.

Chapter 49: My God Given Right to Get in a Fist Fight

Notes:

Enjoy!

After a few hours of chit chat and conversation, they made plans to go to a fancy restaurant the next day. The Slayer and marauder spent the whole day relaxing with Daisy and finally getting into the groove of their new life. Later that evening the robot came over and brought the two down to his favorite restaurant and bar called Summer’s. He was hungry, his fancy nervous system needed far more energy than he would have expected, and it would keep the two out of trouble for tonight.

The bar held a close place in his heart. He had spent plenty of time in it when the two of them were nearly dying. It was quiet and had little private rooms, separated by thick red curtains. Samuel would drink himself silly more than he would like to admit. Luckily, he was able to flush the alcohol out of his brain on command to free himself from hangovers. A bonus of his robotic body.

They were in a private room huddled around a circular booth. The Slayer and Crüe on one side of the both and Samuel on the other. Daisy was at home. She had claimed the second bed in the bedroom and was making a nest for her children on it. Plus the bar had a strict “No gargoyles” policy after Daisy broke in and ate every steak out of the freezer during a Friday night rush. Honestly it might have just been a “No Daisy” policy because they had a photo of her taken from the security cameras printed and posted by the door saying “DO NOT LET THIS LITTLE TERRORIST INSIDE.”

Samuel was sipping a beer. It was an odd sight to see such a futuristic robot drinking something you’d see your local drunk guzzling every night. He knew it was bad, all empty calories, plus he needed to stay alert to keep an eye on Crüe and the Slayer, but it comforted him.

Across the table Crüe was also indulging in unhealthy habits, thinking about Marty and chain smoking a pack of cigarettes. The whole booth would fill up with smoke when the demon exhaled.

The Slayer sat looking over the menu, deciding what looked good to eat and trying to ignore how badly the smoke smelled.

They were all so excited to go to an actual restaurant, but now they all had quieted down a great deal, withdrawn into their alcohol and cigs. After a few minutes, Samuel finished his drink.

“So how was your walk?” Samuel spoke up, breaking the silence. “I got a dozen notifications from people who spotted you. They were excited to see a demon that wasn’t trying to kill them.”

Crüe looked up, startled out of his thoughts. “Oh I hope they didn’t see me get attacked by a swarm of pigeons.” A little laugh escaped him.

The Slayer, who was still perusing the menu, chuckled, “The great marauder got attacked by pigeons?” He reached over and hooked the demon’s chin, gently shaking his head.

“I did.” He nodded solemnly and leaned his head on the man’s shoulder, looking up at him, “Nearly picked my bones clean.” He held the cigarette out so the Slayer wouldn’t have to breathe in the smoke, but it just drifted down into his face anyways.

The PDA was too much. Samuel groaned, “You’re both idiots I can see why you fell for each other. How they hell do you even get attacked by pigeons? Only you could have such a thing happen to you, Crüe.”

He sat back up, moving away from the Slayer and took a long draw from his cigarette before he spoke that foul beast’s name, “It was Marty. He said he feeds them all the time so they follow demons. I guess he saw me getting harassed and decided to step in.”

“So did you guys talk?” The Slayer put his hand on the demon’s leg under the table, far beyond Samuel’s glaring optic.

“Yeah he walked around the whole lake with me and talked. I still don’t know how I feel about him. He even apologized to me.” He shuffled, trying to get comfortable on the way too squishy seat, “He knows we are together.”

The Slayer stiffened and felt a bit of anger run through him, “How?!”

“Two beds in our room and only one was unmade.” Crüe leaned back in the booth, “Then he said he regretted the whole trying to murder me thing. Then, he said that Mez betrayed him afterwards so he had to kill her.”

“Wait Mez? As in the yellow imp.” Samuel tapped his fingers against his empty glass.

Crüe gave him a confused look, “Yeah, what about her?”

“Marty! Mez! It’s nice to see regulars back and this time we actually have steak!” A hostess voice from outside their curtain spoke, greeting the guests.

Immediately the trio slowly opened the curtain that separated their booth from the entrance and looked out into the lobby.

Marty, Mez, and what looked to be a teenager-ish imp/prowler hybrid were standing there, waiting to be seated by the enthusiastic host.

Marty looked over to see the curtain peeked open, and three heads one on top of the other, staring at him in a cartoonish way. Crüe was on the bottom, the Slayer leaning on his shoulders was in the middle, and Samuel was on top with one knee up on the table and was leaning over to get a better look at him and his family.

He prayed to get seated faster and waved slightly at them, trying to communicate that he was sorry for lying about the whole Mez died thing and would talk later but please just let me celebrate my kid’s birthday party without your boyfriend tearing the restaurant apart in a divinity machine fueled rage, thank you.

It worked.

They slammed the curtain shut and Crüe was absolutely baffled. “SHE’S ALIVE?” He yelled in a very whispered tone.

Samuel shushed him further and leaned across the table, a realization dawning on him, “I KNOW WHY HE LIED!” He whisper-yelled.

The Slayer was absolutely baffled by another reason, “IMPS AND PROWLERS CAN FUCK?” but he yell-yelled not whisper-yelled.

Samuel reached out and put his hand over the man’s mouth, peeling the curtain open again to see that they were gone and had been seated. “You didn’t know about hybrids? They are called stone imps, you idiot!”

“Is that a slur?” The man questioned.

Crüe shushed both of them, “Tell me why he lied!” His mind was reeling, neurons nearly overloading. What the HELL is Marty doing?

“He lied because-“

A waiter opened their curtain, and halted all conversation, “I can take your orders now.”

Crüe hissed, and smiled up at the waiter, balling his fists furiously wanting to get the information out of Samuel, “Hi I’d like the soup and salad.”

“What soup?”

“Uhh… how about… Tortellini. That looks good.”

The waiter pointed at the Slayer with his pen, “And you?”

“Can I get the spaghetti?”

He nodded and looked towards Samuel.

Samuel glanced over the menu, he wasn’t sure what he’d be able to eat without flipping up his faceplate. Drinking and tiny things like crackers he was able to fit up under his cover and lap up with his artificial tongue. The thought of revealing his inner workings to the Slayer- Ughh. “Just another beer for me- actually no get me a whisky.”

He scurried off, closing the curtain behind him.

Crüe turned to Samuel, “Well?!”

Samuel leaned across the table again with absolutely no bearing of personal space, “Marty probably wanted to reconcile with you and get on good terms cause he found that you were dating the DoomSlayer.”

“Duh!” Crüe groaned and put his head back against the walls, “Then how come he said Mez died? Why would he lie about that? Not even mentioning their CHILD!”

“Mez is the one that really tried to fuck you over, he was probably trying to protect her.” Samuel said triumphantly.

The Slayer agreed, “That makes sense to me. It was stupid to take his family out for dinner then.”

Samuel drummed his fingers on the table, “I know they have been laying low recently. I’ve only seen Mez from a distance, I’ve never actually met her. Barely anyone has, bit of a recluse.”

“Do you think his apology was real, or does he just want to get on my good side because of the Slayer?” Crüe asked no one in particular, staring at the pack of cigarettes he had laying on the table. He felt a little sick, but he couldn’t resist another. He lit it up and huffed on it.

The Slayer was silent. He didn’t trust that demon and didn’t see why he wouldn’t lie right to Crüe’s face. Of course he didn’t want to say that outright to Crüe.

Swooping in, Samuel answered with a little bit of tact, “I mean it’s possible he didn’t, but you’ll have to ask him to know for sure. He was probably terrified, it’s tough to gauge what he was thinking.”

Crüe felt crushed, he had thought that Marty really cared. He shook off the somber mood, “No, let's have fun tonight. It’s not worth dwelling on it.” He took a final puff of his cig, and handed it to the Slayer. He felt numb.

“You’re looking a little green there, are you ok?” Samuel looked at the marauder.

“Yeah, no, I’m fine.” He was not fine. Those cigarettes were making him feel so sick. He had smoked too much. “I think I’m gonna go out and get some air. Besides,” he continued as he stood, “I don’t even know if I’m allowed to smoke in here.”

“Do you need me to go with you?” The Slayer went to stand but Crüe shook his head.

The demon opened the curtain and made a beeline to the lobby’s entrance, but he was so focused he didn’t even notice their waiter walking over carrying food. He smashed into the poor man, sending plates and soup and salad flying into the air. “Sorry!” He ran out of the door, his face red from embarrassment and green from nausea, looking rather festive, like a Christmas tree. The alleyway beside the building had never looked so inviting and he rushed down it, finding a dumpster to empty his guts into.

Meanwhile inside the restaurant, Marty peeked out past the curtains and saw the giant mess. “Mez let me just go for a moment. We really should just leave.”

She was sitting across the booth glaring daggers at him, “We’ve been cooped up in the apartment for almost a damn month. We are celebrating our child’s birthday!”

“Demons don’t even celebrate birthdays!” He hissed at her, “It doesn’t matter; I doubt she even cares!”

“Marty!” She growled under her breath, “Just stay with us or talk to us about what’s going on with Crüe. I want to know every detail!”

He paused for a moment and to Mez’s relief she thought he was staying, but he teleported out the building in a flurry of purple particles.

Their daughter burst into tears and did that awkward stand-sit shuffle to get out of the booth. “I’m going to the bathroom.” For the record, she very much cared about her birthday. She had read online and heard that sixteenth birthdays were supposed to be special. The humans called them sweet sixteens. She pushed her way into the bathroom stall and stood, staring at the graffiti on the walls.

Marty was outside, he had teleported past the Slayer and Samuel helping clean up the mess and right into the alley and spoke up. “Hey.”

Crüe wiped his mouth and whipped his head towards the voice, “Oh, go fuck off.” He slammed the lid of the dumpster down and turned towards Marty. Every inch of his stance indicated he wanted a fight.

“Mez is alive but it’s simple-“

“What was the one thing I told you to do? The one and only thing?”

Marty paused; then, he remembered, “You told me not to try and protect you from the truth.”

“What the hell is going on? What the hell are you doing?” Crüe glared at him.

“I didn’t want you to hurt her or my kid. Especially not with your fucking crazy boyfriend.” He snarled at him.

“He’s not a loose cannon like that! You’re just a fucking asshole!” He screamed at Marty not carrying who heard. “If anyone is a loose cannon it’s you! I don’t know if I can’t even trust you! Every fucking thing you say is a lie! Why don’t you put a bullet in my head, that's the only way you know how to solve a problem!”

Each parties’ words were spoken through snarls and sneering lips, their long bright canines begging to be used. To be used in a bloody fight and show the entire city how much more brutal demons could be then humans. Crüe drew back his fist and punched, hitting Marty on the jaw.

The demon leapt up and grabbed at Crüe’s face trying to get some leverage.

The Slayer was on his hands and knees, trying to wipe up the soup on the floor and apologizing profusely to the waiter when he heard the unmistakable noise of two demons fighting. In that moment his instincts took over and he stood to sprint out the door. His feet slipped out from under him on spaghetti sauce and sent him falling to the ground, but in a moment he was back up and sprinting towards the door again. “What’s going on?”

He turned the corner to see Crüe and Marty beating the shit out of each other. His muscles tingled with the excitement of finally being used after such a long break. He grabbed Marty and grabbed Crüe, pulling them apart.

“FUCK YOU!” Crüe’s voice was hoarse from screaming and yelling. He leaned against the wall of the alley. “I hate you.”

The Slayer let Marty down but kept an arm between them. “Talk?”

Marty shook his head, “You obviously have my number, call me. I need to leave.” In an instant he teleported into the restaurant, his face already swollen and bruised. He sat back down in the booth and realized to his terror it was empty. He grabbed a waiter, “Where are they?”

“Oh, in the bathroom.”

He ran into the bathroom and spotted Mez tapping her claws against a stall door.

She cooed to her daughter, “My lovely little hellspawn, we’ll have your sweet sixteen at home. It’s ok.” She glared over and saw Marty, “Talk to her.”

“Hey Ruth, are you ok?”

She took a shaky breath, and kept looking at the graffiti. Someone had taken the time to etch the mark of the Slayer into the stall door. She couldn’t tell if she was horrified or impressed. She didn’t want to go back out to the booth so she slowly opened the door and stepped out, “I just want to go home.”

Mez nodded and reached out her hand, holding her daughters and Marty’s hand. In an instant they teleported away.

The Slayer and marauder were staring at each other, in the alley. The man stepped forward, “You ok?”

Crüe sighed, “Let’s just go back inside.”

He shook his head and hugged the demon, “Are you sure-“

He savored the hug for a moment, it felt nice and warm. “I’ll text him later, but Samuel took us out. I don't wanna go just yet.” The feeling of the Slayer under his arms was fantastic. The longer the man held him the more he wanted to stay locked in this hug forever.

He broke free, “Ok, if that's what you want.” The Slayer helped him hurry inside and into their private booth.

Samuel had a dozen glasses of beer and whiskey around him; he held his head and stared off into space. “What the hell happened?” He asked in a sing-song voice.

The Slayer let the marauder sit down and scoot over first, “Him and Marty fought in the alleyway.”

He pressed a button on the side of his head and with a small hiss of air, purged his body of the fuzziness clouding his mind. In moments he was back to normal and sat upright, “We need to get both of you tighter leashes.”

Crüe was feeling beat up and sick but that made him smile, “Ooh kinky.”

“I should have stayed drunk.” Samuel looked away and mused out loud.

“I’m gonna text or call him later. Let’s actually try and enjoy our night.” Crüe put the pack of cigs away and moved Samuel’s empty glasses to the side.

Surprisingly, the rest of the night was mostly uneventful. They got their food and ate it heartily after the chaos. Crüe ate lightly, avoiding the soup all together since he didn’t like how it sat on his stomach. Samuel stole his soup and was able to eat with them. They tipped heavily and apologized for the mess they had caused. After some chit chat they split up and went home.

Notes:

Elena Richardson is a busy woman but still finds the time to scratch the mark of the Slayer into every bathroom stall door she can.

Next update: March 7th 10:00 am EST

Chapter 50: House and Home

Notes:

*drops like 10 chapters as an apology for falling on the face of the earth for a few weeks*

Daisy found herself rather proud of her nest making skills. Despite her rather late start to motherhood and newly usable hands, she was setting out to craft the finest nest the world had ever seen.

First thing first was location, the second bed in the Slayer’s bedroom was awful. Cozy, but too boring. Plus she didn’t like the thought of constantly being in the same bedroom as the Slayer and Crüe.

Then she tried the bathtub. It was very cozy and for a moment she was convinced this was the best choice, but her poor little squabs couldn’t hold themselves upright on the slippery surface. Not to mention she didn’t like it when they played with the drain cap… it reminded her of when she was in Grim’s experiments.

Then, she tried under the kitchen sink. It was nice but something felt off. She also felt anxious about how the cabinet door would swing. What if it crushed a squab? She tore it off the hinges and then tried the cabinet. It felt far to open now.

With a huff, she dejectedly walked out into the room, looking around. Then, she spotted it. The absolute perfect spot for a nest and began working.

A few hours later, the Slayer opened the door, ushering Crüe inside. “I can help you talk to Marty too. It’s probably best if you just text him.”

“That’s what I was thinking too.” He sat down on the couch and turned on the TV. “I doubt either one of us is ready to actually talk on a call.”

“Let me go in the bathroom and change out of this shirt, I got sauce all over it.” The Slayer walked into the bedroom and his jaw dropped, “DAISSYYYY!”

The second bed looked like a bomb had gone off inside it. Stuffing and foam littered half the room all the way up to the Slayers knees. He could see where Daisy had shredded the covers and sheets to get into the bed then burst out on the sides presumably like one of those chestburster things from “Aliens.”

“What did she do?” Crüe leaned back, craning his neck to try and look inside the bedroom. When suddenly Daisy wiggled out from behind a curtain and scurried into the bedroom to see why the Slayer was upset. He stood and walked over to the curtain pulling it aside to reveal a gaping gargoyle sized circular hole in the wall. “DAISY!”

She ran back out into the living room and looked up at Crüe like, “What, bro?”

The Slayer followed her, “She ate an entire bed!”

“She ate a hole in the wall!” Crüe still held the curtain back examining the damage.

He gasped like a concerned homeowner and walked over, “all the way through the drywall?”

Crüe yelled again, “She tore the cabinet off the hinges!”

“Daisy!” The Slayer scolded her.

She had built a wonderful nest in the walls and lined it with the soft foam from the mattress and defended it with the sharpened mattress springs. It was perfect? Why were they bitching at her?

“Daisy, you can’t eat mattresses or holes in the wall or rip the doors off the cabinets.” The Slayer kneeled down and patted her head, “Please only eat food from now on. You can keep this little den you made but just in the future.”

Daisy rolled her eyes and mashed her head against the Slayer, begging for pets.

After a good bit of cleanup they had squeezed the mattress and it’s innards into a large trash bag and set it outside their room, vowing to remember to take it down in the morning, then they fixed the cabinet with a screwdriver and some duct tape, and finally sweeped up bits of drywall that Daisy hadn’t eaten. Crüe took a shower and the Slayer sat on the bed getting everything ready to text Marty.

He heard rain start to drizzle against the window panes in their room. It was so peaceful.

Crüe stepped out of the bathroom buck naked, gave the Slayer a little smirk, and threw on some pajamas. “Here I’ll be right back.” He went out into the kitchen and after a little bit he returned with a plate of little microwaveable pizza rolls. He threw one to the Slayer.

“We were just at a restaurant!” He caught it and popped it in his mouth, hissing at how hot it was.

“I’ve been eyeing these up forever. Here you hold the plate.” He crawled into bed, and kissed the scar on the man’s forehead where the Icon almost took his eye. He settled into bed beside him and leaned against his shoulder. “It’s been a few hours right? It’s probably time.”

The Slayer smiled at the demon. He was worried about Marty yet he still made pizza rolls. He had a hunch this was about earlier. “You don’t want any?”

“Oh I’m pretty full. You can nibble on them.” He was looking down at the phone, pulling up Marty’s number.

He popped a few in his mouth and bumped his shoulder against the demon, “Thank you.” He had really made them just for the Slayer despite the chaos of the night.

Daisy trotted into the room and hopped up into bed, bringing her sleepy children along with her.

The man scooped her and the squabs up onto his lap, “Just start with something simple.” He let them play with his fingers, wiggling them off when they bit too hard.

Their night had been much less crazy than the Slayer and marauder’s. Ruth was still upset and had curled up on their couch and was watching videos on her phone.

Mez yanked Marty aside and chewed him out, “We function as a team, Marty. You need to tell me everything about what happened with Crüe. He’s dangerous.”

Marty’s phone buzzed on the living room table. “Ahhh… it’s Crüe.”

Ruth perked up and took her headphones off, “I want to know what’s going on.”

“No,” Mez snapped. “Your father is just being a worthless idiot and like always I am leading him away from complete destruction.”

“I really think I should try and reconcile with Crüe.” Marty tried to convince his wife.

“We should finish what he started.” Mez hissed.

Ruth read the text out loud, ignoring her mother, “He wants to text instead of call.”

“That’s fine,” Marty nodded as he filled up a plastic bag with ice for his face.

She sent a text back as Marty and Mez sat down beside her, “Yeah that’s great.” She spoke aloud while texting.

Their back and forth was long and painful. Crüe would type and then hand the phone to the Slayer who would read it over and give him a nod of approval. Then Ruth would read it outloud to Marty who would debate and agonize over the text until he and Mez reached an agreement and Ruth sent a text back.

Marty explained that he had been hiding his family ever since the Icon fell. He knew that the Slayer would come, but he had no idea he would come with Crüe right beside him. He worded it in a way that didn’t reveal to his family that Crüe had been boinking the Slayer… or the Slayer had been boinking Crüe.

Crüe asked to talk to Mez and she happily snatched away the phone and rambled on about everything he missed, filling in the details. How her and Marty fell for each other and how they had a lovely daughter Ruth. As well as how they supplied the humans with tons of information about hell in exchange for jobs. She mentioned how she had gotten plastic surgery on her face to cover the scars left by Crüe’s claws.

Then she poured her heart out and apologized. She begged the demon for forgiveness and explained why she had done what she did. Going into mind numbing details about how awful it had been to see all her patients die and she refused to let that happen to Crüe. “I was the one that convinced Marty. I even bought the injection with my own paycheck.”

After she sent the message she tossed the phone to Marty, “Look you had a good idea, let’s reconcile with them.”

“I bought the injection.” Marty argued with her.

“It makes you look better in their eyes if I bought it.” She corrected him, “Now apologize, be sappy.”

Marty took the conversation over typing his apology and Mez leaned over his shoulder, correcting his grammar.

Ruth was slightly terrified. She always thought of her mom and the strict one and her dad as the more goofy, albeit distant, one. To see they could both be rather cold and calculating was odd. She watched, tilting her head to get a better view of the phone.

She didn’t really remember hell. They were there until she was ten years old. Then lived in the crumbled sentinel cities for a few years and a year ago they had to escape to earth.

Crüe responded, “Are you actually apologizing or are you just afraid of the Slayer?”

The Slayer winced as Crüe sent the message. That sounded more of like a jab at them, but quickly three dots popped up underneath it, indicating a response was underway.

“That was what drove me to apologize. It was certainly a reason to stop avoiding the situation and talk, but I meant what I said.” Marty responded.

Mez looked up at him, “Offer to take him out to dinner or have a night out for drinks.” She squeezed his arm, “I’ll be going with you, I don't trust you around them alone.”

Crüe responded, “Sure that would be nice.” He wasn’t sure if it would be but a demon could hope, right?

In the end Crüe felt better. He felt like Marty actually was going to not be an asshole again. Mez was content with Crüe’s answers and Marty was glad they’d go out and have a few drinks one night. That would be nice. They said their good nights and shut the phones off.

Him and the Slayer curled up in bed, Daisy in between them, purring loudly with her children. He smiled. It was just like old times. Him, Crüe, and Daisy.

“I shouldn’t have eaten that many pizza rolls.” The Slayer quietly complained.

“Belly ache?” Crüe lifted up his head to see the Slayer.

“A little.” The man was sheepish. It felt like way back when that baron hurt him and he asked Crüe to stay in his room while he slept. Why didn’t he just ask for a glass of water with some Alka Seltzer or a little bean buddy heated up? It dawned on him he didn’t have to hide. He could ask, and he did.

“Ok I can get the Alka Seltzer, but what’s a bean buddy?” The demon sat up and turned a light on.

“It’s like a sock or a little pillow and it’s filled with beans, corn, or rice. Then you heat it up and it’s all warm.”

“Like a heating pad?” Crüe was greatly confused but ready to get the man whatever he needed. “It doesn’t have beans but I saw one in the kitchen cabinet. Or does it have to be beans?”

“It doesn’t. That should work.” He smiled up at him, “I love you. Today was a long day.”

The demon did the Slayer’s bidding and came back in with the heating pad and the Seltzer. “Here, drink this and I’ll get you all arranged.”

He sat up and gulped it down. Daisy whined as they moved around so much. “I know I’m going back to sleep.” He laid down and closed his eyes as he felt Crüe hand him the pad and tucked him in.

They talked for a few minutes more and drifted off to sleep.

Chapter 51: Deliver Us From Evil

While Crüe and the Slayer drifted off into sleep, Samuel was on a mission. He had not made it back to his apartment near the infirmary; Instead, he got a ping to investigate and outer defenses. Something… or someone had just crossed over the threshold. He hurried through the sleeping city, his robotic feet tapping against the sidewalks and alleyways. As he neared the outer defenses he could see the gate, a reinforced steel door so big and tall you could comfortably fly a helicopter through it. There wasn’t even a single scratch or dent indicating a demonic issue of any sort on it. Strange…

He decided to check the man door off to the side, in case the Slayer had decided to sneak out. Swiping a keycard, he opened it with ease, walking into a rather clean command center built into the wall. “Is anyone here?”

He peeked around corners and under desks until he spotted something out of place. On a closed door leading to the outside there was a small black strap caught in the crack. He opened it and caught the piece of fabric. What it came off of he had no clue, but it certainly looked military.

Closing the door behind him, he walked out into the space between the first and second doors. It was similar to the double door system of the airlocks from the UAC but this was built for preventing demons from getting inside the city. He opened the final door and stepped out into the outer world.

Greenery and destruction were everywhere. Ruined buildings with massive branches growing out through their busted out windows littered the landscape. The only thing that hadn’t been completely destroyed was the road and sidewalks. Samuel walked along them, keeping an eye out for demons and whoever was trespassing.

He walked out through the thick underbrush and rubble; then, into a large clearing. Along the way, he had checked the sensors and detectors. They seemed to all be in working order so it certainly wasn’t a false alarm. He kept walking, feeling more and more uneasy. The deeper he walked into the ruins of civilization the less trees he saw. They seemed to localize to water rather than grow up through the buildings once they were a mile or so away from the walls. He made a mental note to ask the biology department to research that.

Just as he was about to turn and head back he heard a low hiss around the corner. His body froze and he listened. It was high pitched and a constant singular volume. It didn’t sound biological. It sounded like a machine releasing steam. A dread knight perhaps? He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to take on a beast of that size, or outrun it. Panic exploded across his chest, burning him to action. He peeked around the corner to face his foe and to his surprise it wasn’t a dread knight’s augmentations hissing. It was a little punk dude wearing a cheap Slayer mask that mimicked his helmet and hoodie with a spray can.

Relief then anger flooded through Samuel. Why was a person spray painting in the middle of a zone occupied by demons?! “Hey what’s going on here?” Samuel stepped out around the corner and hollered at the dude.

They stopped and turned, staring at him through the eye holes of a Slayer mask. Two thoughts ran through their head. “Oh shit you gotta be kidding me” and “Can I outrun Samuel?”

They could in fact not outrun Samuel. By the time they turned he was already grabbing their arms and forcing them to the ground.

With one swift motion of his arm Samuel ripped off the mask and hood. “Elena?!”

Elena Richardson sat up, shoving him off of her. “I notified the ARC perimeter border that I would be doing research in this area. I-“

Samuel looked over at what she had been spray painting and almost burst into laughter, but didn’t out of respect for his colleague. It was the mark of the Slayer with big black writing through it that read, “DELIVER US FROM EVIL!” He stood and helped her up, “So you’re the one who’s been sneaking out to spray paint?”

She turned away furiously embarrassed and began stuffing a duffle bag with cans of spray paint.

Samuel noticed the bag had the same straps as what he found stuck in the door. “Here I found this stuck in the door, it’s probably what triggered the location ping.”

Elena nodded and grabbed the strap off of him. Then she explained, “It’s just something I feel like doing. The DoomSlayer has protected humanity and I feel like this,” she touched the drying paint on the wall, “this is something I can do to help him.”

He shook his head, “What you can do to help him is to not sneak out into demon infested zones. I mean after what happened-“ he bit his artificial tongue, realizing his next comment was inappropriate.

She hauled the duffle bag straps over her shoulder and stared at him, “No go ahead. What were you gonna say?” She grinned at him, watching him nervously sway.

“After what happened… earlier in the invasion. I’m surprised you’re brave enough to go out into these zones. I would have expected that one intern, but not you.”

Elena paused and put her Slayer mask into her duffle bag. “Well, the Intern does occasionally tag along with me.” She motioned for Samuel to follow and they began walking back.

He immediately felt embarrassed. “What happened earlier in the invasion” was slang for a specific event in the ARC. It was the original attack on the ARC complex that happened a month after the first demon sightings. Back then the uniforms of scientists were long flowy lab coats, not their tight form fitting suits they had now. Elena had been rushed on a passenger plane sent to save some of the scientists. Just as it took off she had been grabbed by her coat and ripped through a window by a demon only to be found hours later… without her face.

The plane ended up crashing not far from the complex, killing most of the passengers so perhaps it was a blessing she had been snatched by the demons. Samuel shifted uncomfortably. He remembered seeing images taken of her after troops found her unconscious and bleeding in the middle of a street. It looked like she motorboated a meat grinder. The details were too gory for him to even think about.

The surgeons did a good enough job. She could eat and blink and breathe properly, but saying her face was “scarred” was an understatement.

“I apologize. That was wrong of me to say that.” Samuel spoke softly.

They walked in silence until she spoke, “It’s fine. Surprisingly, coming out here helps with the fear I have. Also I know you’ve dealt with your fair shares of demon attacks as well.”

“Oh, my legs, yes.” It was a failed backup military attempt against the demons. Luckily, he didn’t remember his robotic chassis being torn apart.

She looked over at him and smiled, “You say that so calmly! I’m lucky they just went for my face. I don't know if I could bear being in a wheelchair.”

He looked down and caught a good look at her scars. There was no good way to even describe them. The skin on her left cheek was pulled taught towards her nose where the doctors had run out of skin to close up her wounds. Specifically the wound on the left side of her nose that had almost severed it completely off. Now that it was healed her nose had an odd look to it. The left side was thicker and redder than the right due to the buildup of scar tissue. Her right cheek and chin was also a mess. It looked almost like a shattered piece of glass, or a patch work with all the tiny pieces of skin being sewn back onto her face. Some were graphs and some were her own. It was almost a purplish color; the healing was slow and rough. Her forehead and eyes were relatively unaffected except for a few skin grafts and a chunk taken out of her hair line. She was missing most of her right eyebrow as the very far right side of her face had been lost and replaced with a large skin graft. Her lips looked puffy and twisted into a frown on the left side. On the right side, where her upper and lower lips met, had been bitten off and had to be restructured. That description excluded the mangled missing parts of her ears and the scratches going down her neck and shoulders… how she was missing a digit on her right hand…

So much was missing, scratched, or bitten off, but Samuel thought she was beautiful. Of course, in a very normal average coworker ONLY kind of beautiful… he told himself.

She laughed, snapping him back to attention, “Did you even hear what I said?”

Samuel shook his head happily and continued walking, “No, but please continue.”

Elena rolled her eyes, and jokingly prodded Samuel, “I asked which one you prefer working for more the ARC or UAC?”

“Hmm…” he noticed they were near the wall again, “I do like the structure of the UAC better, specifically me being at the top of that structure, but ARC knows how to get shit done, which I greatly appreciate. Plus you’re very good at running it.”

“Thanks!” She froze and stared down an alley, “Did you hear that?”

Samuel peered into the inky blackness, “No…”

Suddenly there was the sound of metal grinding on metal and a dread knight barreling out of the alley after them.

“RUN!”

Elena grabbed Samuel’s hand and bolted towards the man door. They weren’t much farther. Just a few more chunks of rubble and trees to maneuver around.

The dread knight roared, eyes glowing and spit flying everywhere as it charged forwards, smashing anything in its path aside.

Elena reached the door and slammed her keycard on the pad, yelling at the door to open.

Samuel stood counting down the milliseconds until they would be dread knight fodder. He felt the door open behind him; he shoved Elena in and fell on top of her as it slammed it shut.

They stared at each other for a moment as though all time had stopped. The demon slammed up against the glass, growling and hissing.

In a second they were both up and opened the other door. Hurring into the command station, they locked down the checkpoint. “Holy hell…” Elena was panting and leaned against a console.

He slowly craned his neck to look at the dread knight which roared at him, making them both flinch. “I can escort you home.”

She didn’t want to admit that had shaken her a good bit, and the thought of having a ten foot tall robot walk her home was comforting, “Yes that would be wonderful.” Quickly, she lifted up the grated floor and shoved her duffle bag down inside. “Ok let’s go.”

Their walk back was slow and quiet. Minus a few calls from guards asking if everything was ok at the gate. Samuel said he ran into a demon but everything was fine.

Elena’s home was an apartment on an upper floor of one of the armored skyscrapers. Large floor to ceiling windows and beautiful furniture. Samuel was bent over in her doorway listening to her say “Goodbye!” and “Thank you for walking me home!” They went to part ways when suddenly she called out to him as he walked down the hall, “Would you wanna hang out?” Reaching up, she tucked a strand of her long dark hair behind her mangled half bitten off ear. Samuel noticed the silvery gray hairs running through it. “It’s nice having someone to talk to, and I wasn’t sure if you had anyone to talk to. I know I don’t.”

He turned around. If he had a heart it would have skipped a beat- of course a very professional friendly skip… definitely not romantic. Samuel agreed, “Oh sure of course! I’m free in the evening around 6 PM two days from now if you’d like to hang out.”

Elena smiled and nodded, “I’ll see you then. We could meet down in the lobby of the infirmary.”

He nodded and was smiling in his head the whole way back to his apartment. He walked through an empty street and watched as a payphone a few feet in front of him sprung to life ringing. He didn’t even think that’s how pay phones worked, but they were already ancient technology by the time he was born. He walked over and picked up the phone, “Hello?”

Vega’s familiar chime crackled through it, he did not speak. All Samuel could hear was his heavy mechanical breathing on the other end.

Chapter 52: Drinking In Moderation

The Slayer had woken up, his belly ache gone. Him and the demon spent the day at home. Crüe made mashed potatoes with some potatoes he found in the cupboard and kept pawning them off on the Slayer. He put more and more on his plate, refilling the bits he had taken. Until finally the man scolded him and made him eat some too while Crüe somehow drank that powdered blood abomination of a smoothie.

The Slayer did feel slightly annoyed at all the babying, but he couldn’t help but be smitten by it. Plus, he had to admit. It felt nice to have a full belly. In his opinion Crüe was being a bit overbearing, it’s not like he had an issue. He simply forgot to eat occasionally. His demigod body was a bitch at reminding him about being hungry. The pangs of hunger simply didn’t work their way past his pain tolerance, until he really was starving. It made it feel unnecessary to eat. Not to mention his muscles hadn’t atrophied from his coma that much anyways.

They spent the day like this watching TV, napping, eating, and talking. The only thing interesting that happened was a sudden black out across the city. It didn’t last too long, only a minute or two, but the Slayer could sense panic through the city. He tried to relax and ignore it. He fought demons, he didn’t know anything about energy, but he found a deep feeling of guilt that he destroyed the argent energy filters back on Mars.

Despite that, It felt nice to be lazy. At night, Daisy hopped up in their bed and snuggled against them with her squabs. She’d eventually move her children into the den to sleep, but she wanted one more night with her Slayer.

Daisy slowly opened her eyes to the blackness of pre-dawn. Her children pawed at her face as they dreamed. A grin formed on her face. They needed names.

The Slayer reached over and petted her back, his cold hand made her jolt. “Sorry, Daisy.” She chattered and stretched out, rolling over to lay against the Slayer.

That was until they heard a knock on the bedroom door.

Jerking out of his sleep, Crüe rolled over and looked at the Slayer, “Please tell me that’s not Samuel.”

There was another knock, “It’s me Samuel! Let me in.”

Crüe groaned and buried his head into the pillow, “FUCK OFF SAMUEL!”

“I’m picking the lock!”

He looked over at the Slayer, a pained look in his eyes, “Please, stop him.”

“Samuel, leave us alone!” The Slayer yelled, rage obvious in his voice.

“No, this is cool. I’m coming in.” The sound of the door hand jiggling was getting louder and louder.

Crüe sat up blankets pooling around his body. “I’M NAKED!” He yelled out, lying.

“Then cover up, slut!” The door handle opened and Samuel stepped in, “Hello!”

Daisy laughed at the situation while Crüe groaned into his pillow again.

“What do you want?” The Slayer looked exasperated.

“I’ve been up all night working on projects. I wanted to test out a prototype of my voice modulator for Daisy.” Before she could protest, he clipped a thin metal collar around her neck. “Behold, try that!”

Daisy let out a chirp quivering in excitement. She would be able to talk to the Slayer. The collar buzzed as it translated, “HAMBURGER!”

“I have a hunch that is not correct.” Samuel leaned down and adjusted a few wires, “Try again.”

This time she made more of a screech, it buzzed then thought for a moment, “HAMBURGER!”

“Are you saying hamburger by any chance?” Samuel pressed his hands against his face, looking manic.

Daisy hissed and slapped Samuel’s outreached hand. No, she was not saying hamburger! It was this stupid collar! With another buzzing noise the collar translated her hiss, “HAMBURGER, HAMBURGER, HAMBURGER!”

Samuel quickly reached past her smacking hands and unclipped the collar before she shredded it. “Well that's nothing a bit of troubleshooting can’t fix!”

The Slayer craned his neck to get a better look at Samuel and he stood at the foot of the bed fiddling happily with the collar, “You seem… happy?”

He nodded, “Of course, why wouldn’t I be?” Elena and him were meeting tonight. He couldn’t be sad if he tried. Of course, it was a strict business and mental health meeting, nothing romantic.

He sat up, knowing he wouldn’t be able to fall asleep again, “Cause I’ve never seen you this happy, ever. How does that collar even work?”

Samuel went into a tirade about ancient gargoyle texts he found last night and translated, then converted into their phonetic speech, and started working on a prototype that could translate in real time. “I’ll head back down to the lab and try and fix this. What are you two doing today?”

“Sleeping.” Crüe spoke through a pile of blankets.

The Slayer shrugged, rubbing sleep out of his eyes, “I don’t know Samuel it’s like 5 AM. Probably just relaxing a bit.” He looked over at the clock on the nightstand that proudly read “4:36 AM” and wanted to strangle Samuel for waking him up that early.

With much prodding and threatening and cursing the Slayer got Samuel to leave without killing him. He got up and left Crüe to fall back asleep. Daisy took her children and stuffed them back in their den happily sitting beside the Slayer as he ate breakfast.

The day couldn’t go fast enough for Samuel. He spent most of the time in the lab jumping with joy when he looked up to see was so engrossed in his work he didn’t notice fifteen minutes had passed. He found himself fixated on the clock trying to urge the hands to go faster. He made a good bit of progress on Daisy’s collar before he realized it was almost 5 PM. He rushed home in a frenzy hurrying into the bathroom to get ready.

He stared at himself for a long while in the mirror, tapping his chin thinking.

He was a robot, he really didn’t have to get ready…

If he went back to the lab now he’d only have 30 minutes before he’d have to head to the infirmary lobby. So he might as well do something.

What did he use to do to get ready? He’d brush his hair, take a shower, and put on fancy clothes. He kept staring awkwardly into the mirror, he supposed he could grease his joints, but what if he spilled grease on himself that would be a disaster. In the end he got a wet washcloth and began wiping his body down. He also used some white and black nail polish to touch up the chipped paint where Daisy’s children had gnawed on him.

He had fifteen minutes before he would head down and he went back into the bathroom to check himself over. Part of him was slightly confused about why he was so worried about his looks, and the other part of him was so desperate to do something Elena would like.

He didn’t like her… did he?

Of course not, she was merely a very powerful person who had taken over half of his old job of leading the ARC. It made sense to want to hang out with her. He still wanted to be a part of the resistance effort and help in any way he could. Besides, Elena had also been attacked by a demon like he had been. They were kindred spirits in a way. Nothing romantic he told himself as he wiped off a speck of dirt on his hand making sure he looked as fresh and clean as the day he was built.

He got a text from her, ‘I’m down at the lobby if you wanna come down. Sorry I’m a little early lol.’

Samuel rushed down to the lobby texting Elena as he walked, ‘Perfect I’m on my way now!’ He rushed into an elevator and when he stepped out he saw Elena waiting for him with a big grin on her face.

“Hello! I was thinking we could go to a club. If you’re up for that!”

Samuel clubbing days should have been long over, but with his robotic body he could fucking party all night. “Of course! I’m still young and spry!” He held his hands out as his optic glowed a fantastic blue.

Elena clapped her hands together with a grin, “Really? Well I’m turning forty nine in a few months so you’ll have to take it easy on my elderly human body.”

He laughed, “Well shall we hit the club and show the youngsters how it’s done?” He extended his hand, jokingly.

“Of course!” She took it, jokingly of course, “It’s called the Golden Keel.”

Across the city in apartment 117 Crüe opened the door and greeted Marty and Mez. “Hello! Come in.”

It was awkward and a little tense, but not as bad as Crüe expected. It was nice to chit chat with Mez after so long and the Slayer hadn’t killed Marty yet so that had to count for something!

“So where are we gonna go?” The man asked. “I don’t know too many places in the city.”

“We’ll since we were at Summer’s, which is so laid back, I thought we could try somewhere a little more fun.” Marty announced.

They went to the Golden Keel and to their surprise Samuel and Elena were there. The Slayer was slightly shocked at her scars but mostly guilty. He felt like he should have stopped the demons before he hurt anyone, but the alcohol quickly took away all feelings of guilt and replaced them with laughter and joy.

The club was amazing. It was a mix of a restaurant and a concert, like a frat dude’s wet dream. Music shook the building while a crowd of people danced out on the dance floor and there were more reserved booths that waiters attended too, serving drinks and taking orders for simple bar food.

All six of them snagged a booth and treated it like a fortress, stumbling back from the war zone of alcohol and dancing to rest before venturing out again.

Elena spotted the Slayer and Samuel both holding one of Crüe’s legs while the demon did his second keg stand of the night.

A packed crowd of drunks and punks roared their cheers as Crüe finally stopped at fifty seconds, signaling for them to get him down.

The human's delicious beer was running down his chin and he clutched onto the Slayer as soon as his feet were on the floor. The man helped him back to their booth before Crüe attempted to drink more. He wasn’t super messy drunk yet and the Slayer was hoping to keep it that way.

Elena was sitting at the booth and gave them a little wave. “Nice keg stand Crüe!”

He squealed and waved back, “Are you ELENA?! OHMYGOSH HI!” Then he burst into laughter. “It’s nice to meet you! I’ll call a waiter over so we can get mimosas!” He wiggled his fingers excitedly.

Well, he was now officially a messy drunk but at least he wasn’t completely off the walls. As long as he didn’t vomit the Slayer was considering that a win.

Elena nodded and gave a look to the Slayer, laughing and shaking her head. Samuel had introduced her to Crüe like three times and the poor demon was so drunk his little brain cells couldn’t make the connection.

Mez was messy, messy drunk in the bathroom currently while Marty comforted her.

Samuel headed back to the table soon after he finished up helping that one Intern guy with a keg stand. The poor man didn’t last ten seconds before sputtering out beer everywhere. “So,” he slid into the booth, sitting by Elena, “Only three remain.”

They had all placed ten dollar bets on who could last the longest. Every thirty minutes they were all pounding a shot. Whoever lasts the longest will get to take home the whole pot of $60, which probably wouldn’t even be enough to cover one person’s bar tab.

The Slayer chimed in, “Four! Marty is with Mez, but he’s still in.”

Speaking of the devil, Marty and Mez walked over to the table. He looked flustered and nervous, “I’m gonna take her home.”

Elena nodded and reached out, touching his arm, “Aww ok! Mez, I enjoyed talking to you!”

She nodded as Marty helped her walk out, “I can already feel my headache splitting my skull apart,” she mused.

The Slayer looked at the time, “Three left! It’s almost time to drink.”

Crüe suddenly looked concerned; he leaned over, “Wait, what about me? I still wanna do it.”

Their game had three simple rules: If you puke you’re out, If you don’t take a shot every thirty minutes you’re out, and if you can’t walk without help you’re out. Also a little side rule was that Samuel couldn’t flush the alcohol out of his head and cheat.

Crüe couldn’t even stagger without clinging to the Slayer. He had been out for an hour but still desperately insisted on being part of the game.

A waiter brought over four shot glasses, “Three alcohol and one virgin?”

Elena took her shot and handed the virgin one to Crüe, “Look it’s a shot for you!”

Samuel looked at his internal clock, “It’s 2:29… 2:30!” Drink!”

They all drank down the shot and clinked their glasses together. Except for Crüe who sat in the corner of the booth, with a sad look on his face. It honestly looked pretty funny, his big fangs uselessly sticking out of a rather depressed frown.

Samuel thought the demon was going to be sick and prepared to quickly move Elena away. “What’s wrong?”

He sniffed, looking more and more teary eyed by the second, “I can’t drink it.”

The Slayer and Elena both gave him an adorable concerned look. The man patted his shoulder, “You can still be part of our game if you want just drink it Crüe.”

“Why can’t you drink it?” Elena asked, worried for her new friend, even if he was so drunk he couldn’t remember her name.

“I’m not a virgin.” He looked for the waiter, a tear running down his face, “I gotta get something sluttier.”

Elena put one hand over her mouth and pounded the table with her other, trying not to burst out laughing. She leaned against Samuel putting her head against his arm, “Oh my GOD!”

Crüe went to stand to get the waiter’s attention but the Slayer damn near tackled him into the booth, explaining that a virgin shot just meant alcohol free and to please not yell that he was a slut across the Golden Keel.

“You could drink it, Slayer!” Crüe tapped his broad chest and shoulders and pointed at the drink, “Since you know… you’re a virgin.”

Samuel and Elena both looked off at the ceiling tiles or floor trying to ignore the two without exploding from laughter. The Slayer grabbed the shot and tried to force it into the demon’s mouth, “Just drink it Crüe!”

But of course, Crüe was not having it, “I haven’t been a virgin in a few hundred years!” He hissed in the man’s face, while the Slayer struggled to hold him down because he was laughing so hard.

The waiter walked back over after seeing the commotion. “Do you need anything?”

He popped up, escaping the man’s grasp, “Yes, so I’ve fucked like everyone. Demons, sentinels…” He leaned forwards, “Not a human yet but,” He pointed at the Slayer, “I’m working on that.”

The waiter nodded used to dealing with blasted customers who didn’t even know what planet they were on. “Wow, a hat trick.”

“Exactly.” The demon mumbled out, “So, I can’t drink a virgin anything. It’s not fair to the virgins.” Crüe announced motioning to the Slayer again who batted at his hands while he slurred his words.

The waiter nodded seriously, “Oh yes let me hook that up for you right now.” He grabbed the shot and tapped the side, “There you go it’s slutty now.”

The marauder smiled, “You know, I love him too much to even think about being with another person. It’s wild! Just a month ago, you won’t believe this, the big goat mother fucker almost killed us and we probably looked like Romeo and Juliet dying in each other’s arm while it happened so yeah it’s pretty serious. In fact-”

The waiter seemed shocked but mostly tired, like he didn’t get paid enough to deal with whatever word vomit was coming out of the demon's mouth, and cut Crüe off before he could get into more graphic details. “Well, enjoy!”

Crüe drank the shot, spilling half of it down his chin, and leaned back against the booth, “I think I’m pretty drunk.”

Samuel snorted loudly and mock rolled his eyes, “You think?”

The Slayer felt so embarrassed but also wanted to hug the marauder. That little declaration of love made the Slayer’s already red face blush hard, though he was fairly certain his blush was hidden by the liquor. “Oh lord, Crüe.”

Elena had a look of surprise on her face, “Slayer, is that true?”

The Slayer looked at the marauder who grinned back at him with his eyes all lidded and drunk as hell. “Yeah, it’s true.”

She gave him a huge beaming smile, “I’m so happy for you! It’s so nice to have someone special. How long have you been together?”

He thought for a moment, “A few months or so? I think around three minus our comas.”

Her face seemed so genuinely happy for the man it was adorable. If it wasn’t obvious Elena was a romantic. She couldn’t resist a good love story. “I’d absolutely love to hear how you two got together. We’ll have to go out to dinner again sometime!”

“And you and Samuel have something going on right?” He pointed a finger at both of them. All night they had been brushing up against each other.

“OH!” She leaned back and looked at the robot, “I mean like it’s just like a professional thing, cause we both got attacked by demons and it’s nice to have someone to talk to.” A nervous laugh escaped her, and she took a gulp of beer, “Yeah.”

Samuel agreed, “Yes, strictly one hundred percent professional. No funny business at all. Neither of us have feelings whatsoever.”

“Exactly not any feelings at all. Except for the professional feelings.” She nodded and laughed.

Chapter 53: (NSFW) "Professional" Relationship

Notes:

NSFW warning

They were kicked out of the bar at 12:30 AM and stumbled back through the streets towards their apartments, hurrying before the lights of the city shut off to conserve power. Well, the Slayer and marauder stumbled. Samuel flushed the beer and Elena could handle her liquor. The Slayer was still damn near a drinking virgin and he could feel his powers from the divinity machine begin to wear down, after fighting so much liquor.

At that moment Crüe’s body decided to give up digesting the copious amounts of alcohol and spew it out all over the back tire of a parked car. “Oh my god I fuckin puked on a dog!”

The Slayer patted his arm, “It’s a tire I think. It’s ok.”

“What about its family though?” He shook his head, nearly stumbling into the car.

The Slayer paused, “Oh my god I don’t know…”

Samuel looked at Elena, “We should escort them home.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

It was like herding cats, but worse. Samuel watched as the Slayer quickly went from a little buzzed to green and needing to stop every few feet. It was like all the liquor finally hit him and he was barely functioning anymore.

Samuel herded Crüe from walking out onto the road, and Elena made “pspsps” noises to lure the Slayer, which surprisingly worked well, and he followed her like a little lost kitten.

By the grace of god they got them inside and in bed; then, explained to Daisy to watch them just in case they needed anything. Crüe was already yammering on about Daisy getting him a blood smoothie, and the gargoyle sighed.

He then escorted Elena home, as they walked she spoke up.

“That was wild how he thought we were dating.” Elena looked up at Samuel.

He nodded, “He was drunk. Don’t take it to heart.”

“I mean I think you’re great, and we have shared experiences which means a lot to me, plus it’s tough to date when you get older, and I do think you’re rather cute… and I think we’d be compatible…” Abruptly, she stopped speaking and started straight ahead. They walked in silence.

“I mean…”

“It’s probably best to keep it just professional.” She told herself and Samuel as they stepped on the elevator to the lobby.

“Of course, just a professional relationship. That’s plenty.”

She tapped her finger against her chin, “I mean… I don’t think I’d be opposed for it to be something more.”

“Neither would I.” He felt his non-existent stomach fill with butterflies. “Maybe we could take it slow, and go on a little date somewhere next week. Just little things to see if there’s anything special.”

The booth stared forwards as the elevator doors opened. “Oh yes, definitely. We’ll take it extremely slow. Maybe something will come of it, maybe not.” She agreed.

Slow means a lot of different things to a lot of different people. For some it means waiting until marriage, or others until the fifth date. For some it has more to do with trauma and needing more time to allow for consent. All are valid and all are important to people in their own ways.

But thirty minutes later Samuel was standing in the living room of Elena’s penthouse, furiously undoing her bra, that shit ain’t slow.

As soon as it was off she turned around and stood on her tiptoes to put her hand on the warm wires of Samuel’s neck, guiding him to lean down so she could kiss his faceplate. She was rough and passionate, everything Samuel ever wanted.

His nervous system could feel every touch, her delicious warmth, and how smooth her skin was. “Elena…”

She pulled him into her bedroom and they laid down. Elena stared up as he carefully laid on top of her, making sure his bulky chassis wasn’t crushing her body.

Her hands trailed down to the two handles on his hips. He could feel her wrap her surprisingly strong fingers around their rubber tactical gripping.

“I wondered, when I designed those, if they would be used for a moment like this.” His voice was loud; it felt like it echoed around the room, shredding the quiet. He shifted his legs as the silence settled once again.

Elena reached up and touched his smooth face plate, smiling as he leaned his head into the touch, dimming his optic. “What else did you design Dr. Samuel Hayden?”

“Everything except what you’re thinking of.” Now it was his turn to touch her, he let one hand support his upper body, while the other traced up and down her smooth sides. Samuel was absolutely infatuated with how smooth and squishy she felt. Obviously women tend to have different fat arrangements than men, and hormones make stuff change, etc, etc, but after being trapped in a metal body finally getting to truly touch and cuddle a person like Elena… It felt like she was an angel.

The one side of her mouth that hadn’t needed to be reconstructed quirked up, and she nodded, “Ahh I see.”

“I always wanted to build it with my partner.” Not to mention that would have been a little awkward when Vega was helping him rebuild his body.

You could have cut the sexual tension in the air with the crucible. All they were doing was staring, two scientists trying to gather as much data as they could before they made their next move.

Unanimously they decided to kiss again. Elena pressing her scarred lips against his smooth faceplate. His optic lit up her face blue as she did it. Slowly, they pulled away. Samuel felt nervousness run through his veins. “My fingers are in full working order.” He wanted to facepalm as soon as he said that. God, he wasn’t a romantic person.

She nodded and gave him another peck on the lips; then, she took off her underwear. She had to make some awkward shimmies with Samuel hovering over her, but it was nice to have the blue light guide her way. With a quick motion she tossed them off the bed. “I’m all yours.”

His free hand wandered down and touched her pubic mound. The soft hair felt wonderful under his fingers. He continued down following the curve of the mound until he could feel her lips. He hated that would with a passion it was so vulgar it hurt. Vulva was far better, and anatomically accurate. With two fingers, he slowly parted her vulva, feeling the warm lubricant made by her body.

Elena moved her hips up to follow his gentle touches, relishing this moment. Her hands wrapped around his bicep plating, clutching onto him. “Don’t tease me.” Her voice had so much authority and power, Samuel’s attention was captured.

He whispered in her ear, “Of course not, Elena. You’ll have to forgive me, it's been a long time.” His fingers began rubbing in circular movements, the warm rubber padding eliciting little smiles and noises out of her. He dipped down lower and slowly pushed inside her.

Samuel had always found it strikingly odd how moldable the female form felt; of course, he wasn’t very intimate with the male form, but something about a woman was so very warm and squishy and wet. It was beautiful and unique and he loved it. He couldn’t describe how he felt.

Two of his long black fingers pushed deeper, and Elena let out a little groan, shifting her legs to spread them out more. Her half lidded eyes looked down and his hand rubbing her and then back up to him. She was pleasantly surprised at how well he was doing. Perhaps a bit too slow for her likings but at least he was trying.

His fingers pulled out, then were pushed back in again and again. A lovely wet noise followed with his motions. Such an odd and smutty sound, he loved it so much. His thumb rested on her clit and massaged it with a surprising amount of skill. The grabbing and gasping of two bodies as they made love with all the vigor in the world had never seemed odd to him until now. Without genitalia he felt like an outsider looking in. Yet, he knew very well he was an active participant as his fingers began to tire from their rapid work.

Before he could ponder the human experience any longer, Elena let out a guttural moan, dug her nails into Samuel’s arms, and spasmed around his fingers. It was rather violent. Elena for a moment became a being sustained solely on her fitful momentary pleasures, cursing and grabbing.

Elena subsided, relaxing against the pillows on the bed. Her eyes were weakly fluttering, and her scarred mouth smiled, “Thanks.”

Samuel slowly got off and laid beside her, realizing that laying beside her probably would have been a better, more comfortable position for the both of them from the start. Two of his fingers were covered in ridiculously wet lubrication. “I haven’t done that since I was in college.”

She curled up on her side, facing him, “I haven’t had that done to me in forever.” Even though it was just some basic teenager level intimacy, she didn’t realize how much she missed having a partner.

They both shared a laugh at their own inexperience and basked in the warm afterglow of hormones.

Elena broke the silence, “How can I take care of you now?”

Samuel looked down at her cuddled against his breastplate, “Currently nothing as of right now. I’d have to go down to the lab and re-enable that part of my brain.

“Wait, you disabled the pleasure center in your brain?” She sat up, surprised. “Why?”

He caressed the side of her face and let her lay back down against him, “I was foolish whenever I first made my body. I wanted to resist all human temptations and distractions… like sex and pain. I had endured so much pain with cancer I was done with it, but I went too far. I disabled everything, even touch, taste, and smell.” One of his servos clicked loudly, as if complaining, “I’ve been able to re-enable touch and taste, but I’m still working on making a functional olfactory center.”

Elena kissed him again, feeling pity and sorrow for the robot beside her. “I can help you. My personal lab is yours for whatever you need.”

The thought of regaining his humanity with the lovely woman beside him made him truly happy, “That would be perfect.”

The power slowly faded out around them and they were left to sleep in darkness.

Notes:

Elena Richardson x Samuel Hayden is actually fire tho. Not sure if there are any other fics that have that pairing.

Chapter 54: Remembering What You Are Running From

Notes:

Flashback time!

“Ooh can you hear him?” The man pressed his ear against the wall behind him, “Listen, I can hear his cries.”

His wife snapped at him, “I’m not listening to the birth of your mistress's son!”

“Our son,” he quickly corrected her, “We will be raising him.”

Tears welled up in his wife’s eyes, “If you so desperately wanted a son why didn’t you wait until I was ready to have a child again? Why did you run out and bang up this whore?!”

“We have two girls. I got tired of waiting for my chance to be a proper parent.” He shrugged, “I could have waited but instead I paid a few thousand and some spare heirloom weapons we don’t even use and got exactly what I wanted.”

She almost broke out into a lecture about how he could be a proper parent and care about his two children, but half way through forming the first syllable she gave up. After all, when you’re waiting for your husband's mistress to have his child you only found out earlier this morning over breakfast, there comes a certain point where you just have to give up and roll with the punches.

Honestly if he would have came to her and told her he wanted a son and wanted to try with a surrogate she would have understood and liked to try that option as well, but casually telling her over breakfast: “Oh yes, just a little heads up, I paid to impregnate a sex worker with money from our retirement fund, and she went into labor last night.”

Not to even mention sentinels weren't even a very sexist society! Women held the same rank as men with the same ease, and there was no unanimous feeling of hatred among fathers for their female children. Her husband was just a whore fucking-

She gave up thinking about it, and stared at the hallway they were sitting down in. Smooth light gray stone made up the walls and floors, and well that was about it. The hallway was bleak and boring, a similar comparison to the probable future of her marriage. Her mother did warn her against marrying soldiers. She made a mental note to take a trek into the mountains to visit her soon.

The door to the room opened and a nurse poked her head out, “Mr. and Mrs. Umbra you can come and see him now.”

Poor Mrs. Umbra shook her head, “You go. I’ll stay here.”

Her husband hurried off into the room to see his son. With a big excited grin on his face.

She waited outside, sitting in a chair. Despite everything she hoped the babe was ok. It wasn’t his fault he was born into the strangest situation this side of the world spear. She took a flask out of her pocket and took a swig of booze, it comforted her for a moment. After a few minutes she heard chit chat in the room and decided to face the woman who had taken her place.

She walked in to see a young jovial woman laying down in a bed. Her golden blonde hair and skin was so pale she looked like she was made of milk. Was she even casting a shadow, and why did her eyes appear to be so dark? It was as though the whites of her eyes simply didn’t exist. She looked like a model, but had the same terror surrounding her as though she same came from the uncanny valley. She looked perfect, too perfect, but Mrs. Umbra knew that jealousy was clouding her judgment. After all, if she didn’t know about the mistress for this long maybe the mistress didn’t know about her.

The mistress smiled and waved, “Hello, you must be Mrs. Umbra! I’ve heard so much about you!”

Mrs. Umbra wanted to slam her head off the wall, but she put on a smile and nodded, “Hello, I’m afraid my rather numbnuts husband didn’t tell me about you till this morning so I’m going through a lot.”

She winced, “I’m sorry for that. He said you were in the know, but on the bright side you two finally have a child now!”

“We already have two girls, but yes.”

“Oh.” The woman looked down at her hands sitting in her lap and started picking at her cuticles.

The awkwardness permeated the room. Everyone felt the agonizing oddness of the situation, well, everyone except Mr. Umbra. He was painfully oblivious to the situation, only happy that he had a son, unfazed with the actions he had to do to get him.

Mr. Umbra was getting stared down by one of the nurses who wanted to call up security to beat the shit out of him.

In fact, the whole staff of nurses in the room wanted to beat him up. The labor ward was rather boring most days due to the sentinels physiology not being as haphazardly and stupidly put together as human physiology was. So they were all itching for some drama and justice.

“Where is the child?” She looked around until a nurse pointed her towards a little wicker bin. Mrs. Umbra reached down and touched the small child’s face. A smile formed on her lips. “Hello little one.”

The babe looked healthy and strong as he slept in the cradle. Luckily he didn’t look as terrifyingly perfect as his biological mother. He mirrored his father more in his looks, but hopefully he didn’t mirror his awful personality.

The mistress spoke up, “I could do joint custody. He is pretty adorable.”

Mrs. Umbra shook her head and gave a warm glowing smile at the woman, “Not a chance in hell. Don’t even try.”

That shut her up and she went back to picking her cuticles.

That annoyed Mrs. Umbra even more. She couldn’t tell if she was sorry for what happened, or guilty, or just waiting to have another kid and get more money.

Now it was her husband’s turn to piss her off, “I have the perfect name picked out: ‘Hammond.’ It’s sleek and handsome!”

She laughed, “No, I’m picking the name.”

“But-“

“I didn’t have a say in whether he was created or not. I’m picking the mother fucking name!” She said in a murderous sing song tone. After deliberation she decided, “Crüe. Like a team, which is what a marriage should be. He’ll be a constant reminder of your failure as a husband to keep our team and marriage together.” She hissed at him through gritted teeth.

“And that’s the story of why she hates you so much!” Crüe’s father sneered in his face as the young teen was sitting down at the kitchen table. “She doesn’t even think you should be part of this family. Just listen to your name Crüe! It’s a mockery, a joke!”

Mrs. Umbra stood, leaning against the counter of the kitchen crying softly, “Crüe, it’s not true. I love you. You’re not my son in flesh and blood but you are in every other way.”

Crüe had been crying for the past hour on and off. While his dad told him stories about how the family didn’t want him and how his mom begged and apologized.

“I love you Crüe.” Mrs. Umbra went to sit down beside him, but he shook his head, “No.”

Suddenly his father erupted into a screaming fit, Crüe flinched but it wasn’t towards him, it was toward his siblings that were peeking their heads from out around the corner to listen to the arguing.

It suddenly dawned on Crüe that they were only his half siblings. He truly was only half in the family…

He stood abruptly and ran out the door onto the front porch, sprinting down the street. His chest heaved and dust kicked out from under his feet. The dirt sticking to his sweat covered skin.

He heard his mother cry out and fall down the porch stairs. She screamed on her hands and knees, begging for him to come back, but Crüe couldn’t, he knew he couldn’t. He ran and ran and ran, all the way into the city and into the clutches of the Deags.

Chapter 55: You Can Run, But You Cannot Hide

Crüe jolted awake scrambling away from everything that touched him, panic took him over, where was he? His stomach twisted and he finally came too as he vomited into the bathroom toilet.

He moaned and pressed his head against the floor. A hangover was throbbing against his skull, but that didn’t explain his weird dream– or rather, memory. He thought it was burned away with his skin when he was transformed, but… it was still there. He wondered what else was floating around his brain.

He found it interesting he remembered his last name Umbra. Such a random, rather unimportant fact. Yet, it made him extremely sad. What if he would have gone back to his mom? What if he ran right into her arms, instead of going down the path he went? Crüe Umbra… it sounded nice.

He remembered how his older sisters and younger siblings peered around the corner, wondering why there was so much screaming. Nausea came back over him and he crawled into the shower, turned on the cold water, and laid down.

Thoughts of his family had never crossed his mind before. Except for vehement hatred for his mother, but now it seemed like his mother was flawed albeit good. It was his father that was evil.

Why did he run? Why did he leave? Why did his father say that?

Suddenly, the door was whipped open and the Slayer ran inside, “Crüe are you ok? I heard the shower turn on.”

The demon nodded, “I’m fine just feeling a little sick. The shower feels nice.” Crüe smiled up at him.

“God you scared the shit out of me Crüe.” The Slayer sat down outside the shower starting through the glass. “Are you sure you’re ok?”

With a little nod, Crüe tried to convince him he was fine, “Just a bad dream and a hangover.”

“Sometimes a dude in my battalion had bad dreams after he drank. Maybe you have something like that.”

He stared at his clawed hands, watching water flow in rivulets down his skin. That’s why he ran, to become something greater than just a sentinel. “I love you.”

The Slayer took off his clothes and left them in a crumpled pile as he stepped inside the shower. He turned the water to a much nicer, warmer temperature and sat down, stroking the demon's side with his caring fingers. “I love you too, Crüe.”

He winced at his name being spoken. Crüe, the name that was a testament for a failed, abusive marriage. Would he even be a good marriage partner? He had thought about marrying the Slayer, but now he doubted himself.

“I can tell something is wrong. You look extra sad.”

“It was a bad dream about my family.” He admitted with a sigh.

“Oh I see.” The Slayer leaned down and buried his head in the crook of his neck, whispering, “Are you gonna be ok?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.” He rolled over to face the Slayer, “I thought the first time we’d get in a shower together would be a lot sexier than this.” The demon couldn’t even bear the mere thought of seeing a penis now in his condition.

The Slayer snorted, “We have a tendency to do the unexpected, don’t we?” He patted the demon’s arm, “But are you sure you don’t wanna talk?”

He leaned back down, listening to the sound of the drain near his head drink down the fallen water. His face scrunched up and he slowly started crying, “I remembered the moment I ran from my family. My mom and dad were yelling and my siblings were watching,” a violent sob shook him and he took a long minute to collect himself again, “I remembered my last name and I miss them Slayer, I miss my family so much.” He continued on but it was so lost in hiccups and the little half formed choking noises made when someone is in the depths of despair.

The man struggled to respond. By the time he snapped out of his hell killing spree he couldn’t even remember who or what he was. He knew he had a family but it seemed only like the distant murmurings of a faint memory; besides, he had gone on to serve a noble purpose. With Crüe the wound was fresh and raw along with the added pain of him leaving on bad terms. So he didn’t offer advice or any words, that’s not what he was good at anyways. The Slayer pulled Crüe up and wrapped him in a big hug. Their bodies shook together as the demon sobbed and hugged him back.

They stayed like that for a while until the hot water began to run out and fade into its original icy cold state. It didn’t feel good anymore to Crüe, only being pressed up against the Slayer felt good.

So they went out into the living room and the marauder spilled out all the details of his dream over a cup of hot chocolate or two. He didn’t hold anything back, he couldn’t. His mouth was like a spigot, spewing on and on about everything.

Daisy came out of her hole and sat beside the demon on the couch, resting her head on his lap, trying to comfort him. She couldn’t do much, but she hoped this was enough.

Eventually, he slowed down and finally turned to the Slayer, “What do you think?”

The man blinked and shifted in his seat, taking a long sip of hot chocolate. “That’s… that’s a lot.”

He nodded fearing he had said too much too fast to the Slayer.

“First of all, are you sure it was a memory, not a dream?” He reached over and scooted up Crüe’s blanket a bit so it could cover the demon’s shoulder better.

He nodded, “It was almost like amnesia. As soon as I saw it I remembered everything. It definitely wasn’t just a dream. I mean maybe Umbra wasn’t right, that doesn’t sound familiar.”

“I mean it sounds like your dad is an asshole. You ran cause you were a scared little kid, Crüe. There’s no shame in that.” The Slayer paused to sip from his mug.

“I know,” Crüe set his empty mug of hot chocolate on the table and rested his big horned head on the man’s shoulder.

“I bet she looked for you everywhere, cause she didn’t know you went to the program, your siblings too. I’m sure your family loved you.”

Crüe stared at his reflection on the black TV. His parents probably did look for him, well at least his mom. Now he wondered about who his surrogate was. Why his dad was so excited for a boy and then hated Crüe. All these questions that he had no idea the answer to.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door and Samuel stepped in holding some packages and the Slayer’s helmet which he snagged from the armory, unsure if the man still needed it, “Ooh hello! Oh- what’s wrong?” He set them down on the coffee table and sat down, concerned.

After thirty minutes of tearful explanations and another pot of hot chocolate Samuel was caught up on the dream. “Your dad is a dick. He got a sex worker pregnant cause he wanted a male child? Fuck that. I’m surprised your mother didn’t leave him on the spot! And your mother raises you only to have him drive you away in the end? I can guarantee she left his ass after you were gone. You had to be the final straw, if not she’s just stupid.” He said it with all the vigor of one of those celebrity drama talk show hosts. “Don’t let your thoughts get you in a tizzy. If someone is abusive, leave. I mean joining the forces of hell seems to be a bit much but you turned out fine Crüe.”

Crüe was in tears and nodding. It was nice to have someone other than the Slayer support him. Slowly, they moved away from the topic and his mood increased greatly. He blew his nose on a tissue the Slayer had gotten him and took a few pills to qualm his aching head. “So how was your night? I can barely remember it. Did we meet Elena?”

“Yes you met her like six times. I actually just woke up and came here from her apartment-“

They stared at each other. Samuel realizing he had committed an atrocious fuck up.

He leaned back a little bit, his optic staring at their grinning faces, “But not like that of course!”

The Slayer and marauder burst into laughter, even Daisy starting chirping at him, the heavy topic from earlier thrown off their minds. After all the times the robot had tortured them for being together, they finally got revenge. “YOU AND ELENA ARE DATING???”

The Slayer was howling with laughter, “I KNEW IT!”

“Oh hush, hush!” Samuel tried to get them to shut up. If he could blush, he’d be as red as a tomato. He gripped onto the arms of the chair to distract from the burning feeling of embarrassment on his faceplate.

“So wait, wait, how did that happen? You said there was nothing going on!” The Slayer was now very interested.

“I found her outside the city walls one night. We nearly both died to a dread knight. We talked about what happened to her face and I talked about what happened to my legs. We bonded over it and went to the Golden Keel as a little date night, but just to talk. Then I took her home after dropping you two off and we decided to try and be together.”

The Crüe gasped his brows furrowing, “Wait did you guys fuck?”

Samuel paused. Technically, no… in fact he couldn’t fuck currently, but they did things. His pause was taken as an admission.

“Really? On the first date?” Crüe grinned. “I would have never expected that from you.”

Samuel was thoroughly embarrassed by the topic and stood, “I believe I have something important to attend to, bye.” He scurried out the door.

The two looked at each other and smiled. A visit from Samuel might be annoying, but it certainly did lift the mood a bit. “So what’s in all those boxes?”

“Well,” He smiled sheepishly, “We could go and open them up. It’s a bunch of things I think you’ll like.” He watched as an exhausted Daisy turned, returning to her den to tend to her squabs.

The Slayer grabbed his helmet and followed Crüe into the bedroom.

Chapter 56: (NSFW) Comfort Above All, Even Pleasure

Notes:

NSFW warning

They hurried and rushed all of their boxes into the bedroom. Crüe showed off what he bought and began cleaning them in the bathroom sink.

He had bought twenty adult toys, and a box to put them all in. The Slayer examined them like a dragon looking over a horde of treasure.

Probably a third were silicone dildos in all shapes and sizes. The others were butt plugs, a variety of anal beads, there were a few little silver rings that the Slayer wasn’t even sure what they were.

“Do you like them?” Crüe grinned at him, the morning of sadness washed away.

The Slayer picked up a few things and examined them, “I mean… I guess. I’d like to try them.” It was a little overwhelming looking at the variety. Some of them looked uncomfortable and he felt nervous, but had been waiting for this moment for a long time.

“Right now?!” He looked so excited.

“Yeah, let’s do it.” He felt like a horny teenager again.

Before they hopped into the fantasies of their wildest dreams Crüe cleaned up as did the Slayer. The demon then went and brushed his teeth to freshen up a little bit, in the kitchen sink, popping a mint from his tool belt into his mouth. He walked back into the bedroom and tapped on the door, “How’s it going?”

The Slayer had finished cleaning himself and was now trying to calm his nerves a bit.

Crüe slowly began undressing, and sat on the bed, “Take as long as you need.”

The Slayer smiled at how gentle Crüe was being. He was still anxious and worried about how everything was going to go. He had even kept his underwear on, feeling like it would be too forward to walk out of the bathroom without them. With a deep breath, he squared his shoulders and stepped out of the bathroom.

Crüe looked up and grinned at him.

The Slayer stood awkwardly, feeling exposed, his face flushed. It felt like any amount of exploring himself he had done meant nothing here, Crüe was a variable he could never account for. “You sure you’re up to this?”

“If anything this will help me get my mind off it,” Crüe stood and nodded, grabbing the nape of his neck and pulling him in for a kiss. “There’s nothing to be worried about. Come here straddle my lap.” He sat back down on the foot of the bed, spreading his thighs and inviting the Slayer on.

The Slayer did as he was instructed and sat down on the demon's cushy thighs.

“Are you comfortable fucking me?” Crüe asked, looking up at the Slayer.

“Maybe you show me first.” He smiled down, feeling even more embarrassment bubbling through him. He shifted on the demon’s lap, and avoided eye contact as he mumbled out, “Will it hurt?”

Crüe brushed the wounded side of his face with his claws, “We don’t have to do that tonight if you’re not ready.”

He sighed and his body sagged with relief, “I want to wait a bit longer I think.” The Slayer looked up, searching Crüe’s face for any sign of anger that he wasn’t ‘putting out’ in that way yet, he found none.

“That’s fine. I was terrified my first time.” Crüe pressed his demonic lips against the man’s neck, “When the time does come, don’t worry, I’ll be gentle with you.”

“Thanks,” He mumbled out relief and embarrassment coming together, “I’m still up to do something tonight.” He kissed the marauder’s forehead, ready for whatever Crüe was planning.

The demon laid him down and slowly trailed kisses from his neck to his underwear, biting gently at the waistband. He removed them with his claws, sliding them down the man’s legs.

The Slayer clenched up, and shook his head, stopping the fun. He got up out of bed and put his helmet on. “Ok.”

He paused and the Slayer resumed the position, his helmet banged loudly against the headboard. The man’s face was beat red and his eyes were squeezed shut. Crüe hooked a claw under the helmet and lifted, smiling at him, “If you’re not ready that’s fine. Do you want the lights off?”

The Slayer nodded his head and watched as Crüe stood, shutting the lights off and pulling the blinds shut. The room wasn’t entirely dark, but the Slayer didn’t feel like he was on display nearly as much.

When Crüe returned he didn’t lunge into the man’s arms, he sat on the side of the bed, rubbing the man’s leg. “What’s wrong?”

“Embarrassing.” He looked away, not wanting to make eye contact with the demon.

“Why is it embarrassing? I can assure you I’d kill someone just to get between your legs. I’d shove my face down there right now if you’d allow me.” He leaned his head in and slowly removed the helmet, setting it beside the Slayer.

That took the Slayer aback, he had never had another person pull his helmet off his head, “I don’t think anyone could like me enough to do that. I feel like I’m gross.”

“I gave you a blowjob before and you were fine. How is this any different?” Crüe was genuinely interested by the man’s reaction.

“I just… I just feel like a blowjob is normal but,” he looked around the room and leaned in, whispering, “I just worry you might think I’m gross even though I’m clean- oh hell I don’t know.” His emotions fluttered around and he couldn’t understand what he was feeling, which made him more embarrassed.

“We could take a break from this, maybe try again tomorrow.” Crüe smiled up at the man, wanting him to feel comfortable above all, even pleasure.

The Slayer shook his head, “No, I want you, I really, really want you…” He hesitated, “I worry you won’t want me.”

Crüe turned and crawled into bed, kissing up from the man’s neck and brushing their lips together. “I love you, Slayer. I’ll always want you. You’re my horde, my friend, my brother in arms.” He couldn’t believe the Slayer thought about himself in that way. The man was a eons old virgin so perhaps it had been so ingrained that sex equaled bad that bled through to the present day.

“I love you too. I trust you.” He grabbed the demon’s horns and pulled him in for a kiss, forcing their faces together. It was true, he trusted the demon with everything, even with his life, laying eyes on his face, this was merely one more thing. The Slayer leaned back, opening himself and his legs up to the demon.

Crüe moved down between the man’s legs and wasted no time in pressing his tongue against his ass. This first touch made the Slayer jump, but he continued on, lapping and licking like there was no tomorrow, making the Slayer groan and clutch the sheets.

He let his helmet fall to the floor, “Feels good.” He made the demon stop for a moment as he moved to lay down with his head against the pillows. Suddenly, it dawned on him. There was nothing to be ashamed of. Crüe and the Slayer had done everything together. He could be open with Crüe and that was what was so beautiful.

Crüe slowly pushed his tongue inside, pulling out and lapping more whenever he felt the man clench up. He could feel the man’s warm thighs press against the sides of his head. He was in heaven.

He moaned as he felt the demon push farther and farther inside. It felt like the demon was so close to… something. The Slayer wasn’t sure what it was, but it felt good. Despite how long his tongue was, it wasn’t enough. He needed more.

He pulled out and replaced his tongue with his pointer finger. “I can still feel you clench up. Relax my Slayer.”

He reached out and grabbed the demon’s shoulders, holding onto him like he was a rock in a storm. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath. “I’m trying, Crüe.”

“Take your time.” He leaned down and lapped at the Slayer’s dick, casually licking the shaft. “Maybe try and push a little?”

The Slayer felt a flash of embarrassment, but it didn’t linger. It helped and Crüe was able to get inside.

He laid down between the Slayer’s legs, sucking his dick while his finger worked him. His finger prodded deeper and deeper, until the Slayer’s body spasmed.

“Fuck! What was that?” The strangest sensation was running through his body. He winced and looked at Crüe nervously. He nearly died of embarrassment when he realized that was probably his prostate and had just asked quite possibly the dumbest question ever.

“It’s a little odd at first.” Much more gentle now, he massaged the spot until the Slayer let out a little gasp. “Sensitive?”

The Slayer moaned and grumbled something. It was sensitive, so, so sensitive, but it felt amazing. At least he was pretty sure it did. The best way to describe it was as if everything felt tangled. The pleasure and the pain were so similar yet exquisitely different he was confused and yet his dick was as hard as a diamond.

They remained like this for a few minutes. Crüe got the man to squirm and moan in under thirty seconds; then; then, he pulled out and ate him out some more until he was recovered, then applied a little more lube, and finally he repeated the process. “More?”

The Slayer nodded, breathing fast and wheezing. His blond hair was damp and dark with sweat.

Crüe leaned back, lubing up his fingers a little more and then laid beside the man. He kissed his neck, licking his exposed, sweat covered throat. He slipped one arm under the man’s shoulders, pulling him close, and trailed his other hand downwards, toying with the Slayer’s dick.

The man groaned and leaned against the demon, his legs tensing up and making him try and chase the pleasure as it went lower and lower.

Crüe slipped his fingers inside, pushing deeper and deeper. He purred encouragement into the Slayer’s ears, murmuring his love.

The Slayer accepted the praise with every gasp and groan. His legs were bent allowing for better access. He quivered like a leaf, a warm feeling blooming in his belly. Then finally he came with a low groan, a thick pump of cum ran down his dick and onto his stomach. His body went limp from exhaustion and pleasure.

Crüe smiled and pulled the Slayer in for a kiss. He leaned down and cleaned the Slayer up with his tongue before pulling the blankets up around the man, covering him up and looking at his fluttering eyelashes.

He just nodded and made a little happy noise, pushing himself against the demon’s warm skin. “It felt…”

“Strange?” Crüe smiled at him.

“Strange and good.” The Slayer’s mouth quirked up at the demon, “Very good.”

They laid there for a moment until the Slayer’s hand wandered over, caressing over the Crüe’s leg, and brushing against his cock.

Crüe didn’t want to bother or overwhelm the man so he shook his head, “I can take care of myself later-“

“I can help,” The Slayer slowly sat up and pulled the demon in for a kiss by his horns. He waited for Crüe to blush and nod before he continued.

The Slayer grinned, tossing the blankets off himself. He put some lube on his hand and grabbed the demon's cock. He worked Crüe with some unholy ferocity, as if he was making up for all the time he had been terrified of sex. His endless amounts of stamina allowed him to hit the perfect rhythm and maintain it well.

Crüe went from a well composed giver to a moaning receiver in only a minute of action. He gripped onto the Slayer, hissing about how good it felt. He rolled over in a tangle of limbs and pinned the Slayer to the bed, the covers pooling around and over the man’s shoulders. The Slayer continued jerking him off as the demon moaned right into his ear.

They continued fucking and listened to how their whispering groans echoed off the walls of their room. Until finally, Crüe tensed up feeling that beautiful warm feeling in his belly. He grabbed the man’s left bicep and lifted him up, violently sinking his teeth into his shoulder.

The Slayer hissed in pain and tried to push the demon away by the horns, but to no avail. Luckily the blankets had taken half of the blow. He could feel the demon pump his load down his fingers and all over the bed. His body was twitching and shaking.

Crüe was almost like a snake. His eyes were narrowed and his long tongue came out to lap at the drops of blood. It was slow and methodical, not like him at all.

Then suddenly it was over he let go and looked over at the man, confused. Then leapt off the bed. He saw the bite and bit of bubbling blood on the man’s shoulder and quickly rushed off to get a towel. In an instant he was back from the bathroom, pressing it against the wound as though the man would bleed out. He was in hysterics, his voice waving, which was making the Slayer panic. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! Are you ok? I didn’t mean to!”

Now of course, the Slayer was a bit startled he had been bitten. That was something he expected to happen out in the demonic zones, not in the bedroom. Still, he realized he didn’t fight it very much. If he was truly scared or in pain he could have ripped Crüe’s head clean off and tossed it across the city. Then he realized his dick was so rock hard it was already dripping pre-cum.

Shit… that was hot.

That made him panic. What if he was knee deep in the dead and the dead bit him? Oh NO! Did he, the DoomSlayer, really have a biting kink?! Of all the god forsaken kinks he could have!

In the moment he had been staring off into space, completely reevaluating his life, Crüe burst into sobs and crumpled onto the bed. “I d-didn’t… I didn’t mean to!” The man had already been anxious and then he had taken a big meaty bite out of him.

That startled him out of his head and he put a hand on Crüe, “It’s fine.” It honestly wasn’t even deep at all for how wicked the demon's fangs looked.

Crüe was just bawling at that point and in between sobs, begging for forgiveness. “I didn’t want to. I just slipped up.”

The Slayer sat up and felt a thick glob of cum run down his belly, which felt disgusting, but he continued comforting the demon, “I’m fine. It didn’t bother me at all.”

It did bother him technically. It got him all hot and bothered, but he tried to keep in his pants for Crüe’s sake.

He sniffed and wiped at his face, “Demons just give a little bite as a cordial thing, like sharks.” He made a vague gesture to what the Slayer assumed was a representation of sharks mating from all the nature documentaries he had been watching, “I just wasn’t paying enough attention and I just bit you so hard.”

The Slayer had no idea how sharks did the deed, so he just shushed the demon and comforted him, “The blankets took the brunt of it, don't worry.” He drummed his fingers on his back, unsure of how to explain, “That really turned me on.”

He looked up, “You’re into biting? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Cause I just figured it out!” The Slayer blushed.

He paused then burst into laughter. It was like using the wrong math equation and getting the right answer, but it didn’t matter. They were both satisfied.

Aftercare was surprisingly tender. While the Slayer cleaned himself up, Crüe stripped the bed and put fresh sheets on. He wasn’t sure why he forgot to put a towel down before they began.

In the bathroom Crüe washed the blood off one of the blankets, and examined the wound on the man’s shoulder.

It wasn’t that deep, nothing worse than a love nibble compared to some of the ferocious bites he had gotten from demons before. A little bit of ointment and a few bandages applied by a very worried Crüe and he was back in business.

After the man finished, Crüe washed off the lube on his hands and dick; then, he retired into the bed with the Slayer.

He spooned the man and they laid in silence.

“So you’re horny for biting?”

The Slayer gently elbowed him in the ribs, embarrassed that he had a kink. “I suppose so.”

“Are you sure you're ok?”

“Just a nibble.” The Slayer smiled and nuzzled into the pillow. “I liked that wild look in your eyes.”

“Oh,” Crüe’s face went a few shades of red darker with blush. The Slayer had usually been fairly quiet with bedroom talk, him uttering something that lewd and forward made his brain short circuit. “I’m glad, sorry I didn’t mention the whole biting thing beforehand.” He slowly breathed in, enjoying the scent of the man’s hair. “Like I said. I can control it, nearly every demon can. I just got so distracted looking at you.”

He had a big smile on his face, “We didn’t even use any of the toys.”

Crüe lifted his head up and looked at the massive variety sitting in the box he was planning on hiding them in. He felt like they needed to do a few more rounds before a third thing to worry about was introduced. “Maybe next time. I forgot about them too.”

“Were you too busy munching on me?”

He rolled his eyes and hugged the Slayer, “You’re an ass!”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Chapter 57: Who Will be My Vega?

Notes:

It's a little raunchy NSFW at the beginning.

Crüe slowly traced his fingers down the man’s arm, drawing out little moans from his body. His claws were sharp but he was gentle as he explored the man’s muscles. He buried his face into his hair, “Are you sore at all?”

He turned over, breaking up their spooning session, and pressed himself against the demon’s chest. “I don’t think so.” The Slayer wanted to tease him about the shoulder bite again, but he just smiled and kept it to himself. The demon had already cried twice today, it would probably be best if he left it alone for now.

He kissed the man’s head and then Crüe’s hands wandered down to the man’s ass, running over the curves. “You could always fuck me next time.”

The Slayer hid his face in the demon’s impressive pecs and smiled to himself. Crüe was so warm he almost got lost in him for a moment. He wasn’t sure how he felt about laying claim to the demon like that. It sounded simple: put dick in and ta da, but he was worried about not using enough lube or not being able to last long enough to appease the demon’s apparently never ending lust. The Slayer looked up, “As long as you guide me, I’ll do it.”

“Deal,” Crüe kissed his forehead again, letting his teeth brush across his skin.

The man felt Crüe’s dick twitch against his thigh. Reaching down and under his pants, he cupped the demon’s bulge through his underwear. It felt so nice to hold it in his hand. So warm and intimate…

He purred with delight and tried to gently thrust-

“Hello?” Samuel knocked loudly on the bedroom door and peeked inside.

Immediately the Slayer removed his hands and leapt up, “What do you want?”

“I hooked up Daisy’s collar and I think I got it to work!”

He took a step closer and Crüe shooed him away, “Get out of here! Let us get ready!”

“Are you two naked?”

The Slayer pulled down the blankets, revealing they were both wearing shirts they had put on after their activities, “No, we aren’t naked! Just give us a minute!”

Samuel huffed and walked out of the bedroom leaving the door wide open in his wake.

“Well at least he didn’t come in a little earlier…” He laughed, then his face changed; he glared at the man, “You know what I just realized. We never got the lock to our door. He took our packages up here. Do you think he took it?”

That was enough to put the Slayer on the warpath, he pulled himself out of bed away from the warm embrace of his lover, and he marched out to face Samuel, “Give it back!”

“I don’t know what you’re even talking about!”

“The lock!” He glared at the robot and for a few seconds they remained in a tense staring contest until he gave up. “Did you look through our packages?!”

“No, I didn't look through them!” He seemed offended and pulled away, crossing his arms.

“I know you did!” The Slayer’s face was red with anger and the shame of Samuel possibly seeing what other stuff Crüe had bought. He grabbed the robot by the neck and pulled him down to his height, furious, “Give the lock back or I’ll cave your head in!”

Crüe had rushed out of bed and was lingering on the edge of the conflict, ready to hop in and stop the man from murdering Samuel.

Samuel pulled back, “Fine!” He took the lock and chain out of a compartment on his arm and tossed it to him. “I just want to be able to get in here if something is wrong, like how Vega could. I’m not telling anyone what I see and I’m certainly not doing it for fun.” He was also shocked at how many dildos a single demon bought, Jesus lord almighty.

He winced. That was surprisingly endearing and wholesome. The Slayer expected a control freak explanation, certainly not that. Still weird though.

Crüe leaned against the doorway with the threat of murder off the table for a little bit, with his arms crossed, and Daisy sat beside him, staring up at him.

They looked at each other for a moment; then, the Slayer sighed, “Listen, we’ll leave the lock off, but you have to text us and wait for us to respond before you come over, unless it’s a major emergency.”

Samuel begrudgingly agreed, “Ok that will work I suppose.” He felt dumb, like an inferior version of Vega, trying desperately to cobble together some program to take care of his family, and failing miserably. How ironic that his creation surpassed him in being a better human being, of course, his “creation” was basically god trapped in a bottle, but still. How did Vega do it? He supposed the Slayer had a great deal of trust in him. “I just worry. What if something happens and you all are unable to reach me?”

The Slayer rolled his eyes, “With Crüe’s horns we were able to handle it. Also Vega gave us privacy.”

He wanted more, but he gave in, “Fine.” Daisy’s collar chirped and he knelt down to finish some final calibrations. They all sat down on the couch as it finished up its final loading phase.

“Why do you feel like you have to watch us like Vega?” The Slayer was petting Daisy’s head as she was curled up on his lap.

Samuel sat up in his recliner and thought for a moment. “Well in Vega’s farewell speech he told me to protect you. Less than twenty four hours later both you and the marauder were crossing over death’s door. I was given a second chance and I refuse to waste it.”

The Slayer nodded, wondering why today seemed so chaotic. Crüe woke up with a nightmare, Samuel said he had a girlfriend, he and Crüe actually were able to somewhat consummate their relationship, and now they were finally addressing the elephant in the room that Vega was no longer around. “Samuel, you ain’t gotta watch over us like Vega did. He didn’t expect omnipotence. I think he just meant to make sure we don’t do too much stupid stuff, like how we were planning on fighting demons days ago and you stopped us.”

Suddenly, he broke eye contact and looked down at the floor, “Yes I suppose.”

“What?” Crüe leaned forwards, untrusting.

“Huh?” The robot refused to look up. Samuel sighed, he knew Vega would tell the truth, “ARC has been asking if you’re ready to fight for the past three days. I’ve been telling them no. I wanted you to rest more and I couldn’t simply block your access to the portal. I had to get creative.”

He rubbed his head and let out an exasperated sigh, “You should have asked.” The Slayer was upset but he also didn’t mind the three extra days of rest, and if he was being completely honest, he probably needed them anyway.

“I was afraid.”

Crüe huffed, “Vega told us and explained why he was doing shit before he did it. He never hid his reasons from us and expected us to obey.”

The man nodded, “That’s true. We are trying to work as a team. We have to tell each other everything.”

Samuel nodded, accepting those terms, and then suddenly gasped, “What happened to your shoulder?! That wasn’t there when I left earlier!”

Despite saying that they had to tell each other everything, the Slayer quickly lied. “Oh Daisy bit me she was just rough housing.”

A female robotic tone similar to Siri spoke, “I did not.”

They all looked at Daisy who was puffed up angrily on the Slayer’s lap, her collar finally calibrated.

Her face softened as she realized whatever the collar had spewed out they could understand! It took her screeching vocals and made them into something that they all could understand. She let out an excited chirp and hugged her Slayer.

“Ha! It works!” Samuel laughed with joy and reached out to pet the little gargoyle. “So how did he get it Daisy? Did he try throwing you under the bus?”

She refused to talk further. Even though he tried to pin it on her she wouldn't reveal his secrets. The walls were thin, but as long as they weren’t too loud, she was fine.

Crüe was casually sweating bullets as he pulled Daisy onto his lap, “Oh just being dumb. It was my bad, really.”

Daisy went to speak. The Siri tone was sort of clunky. As if it was reading one word at a time instead of stringing them together into a flowy sentence. “Make food?”

“Sure,” the Slayer quickly stood up, making her squeal with delight, and looked around the fridge and cabinets. He poured out a can of soup into a bowl and began heating it up for the little demon.

“Now I’m extremely interested in what happened.” He leaned forwards, resting his chin in his hand, smiling at the two of them.

Crüe grumbled hating that Samuel didn’t know when to stop. “I accidentally bit him. I feel awful about it.”

“He gets bit by demons all the time, don't even worry about it!” Samuel laughed, “God, how long did I leave you two alone, an hour and thirty minutes or so? This is why I get concerned! It’s not like you become a demon vampire and go wild or anything right.”

The Slayer shook his head, “No we were just horsing around and he tripped and bit me.”

“I should wrap both of you in bubble wrap for fuck’s sake.” He pondered outloud.

Daisy crackled at the assholes’ pathetic explanation. “When we fight demons then?”

“Tomorrow.” The Slayer announced, handing Daisy a bowl of soup. “Samuel, tell ARC I’ll be ready tomorrow, and give me a direct line of communication to them.”

“I’ll have that arranged for you.” He nodded, glad that the demons weren’t upset at him again. “I believe they’ll put you on the evening patrol.”

Daisy made a loud slurping noise and she finished off the soup in under thirty seconds. “Yum!” That earned her a smile and a head pat from the Slayer. The man was so excited to be able to chat with her.

“Oh by the way, they are paying you fifty cents per kill.” Samuel tapped his phone, pulling up a message, “They want people to see you get a nice paycheck and they want demons to see their lives are only worth two quarters to ARC.” That was so clever and cruel the Slayer grinned. He loved causing chaos of fear, this was a perfect mix of both.

The conversation took a slightly darker shift when Crüe spoke up, “So is the energy situation any better?”

Samuel shook his head, not wanting to talk about the subject. He was already subjected to it enough by the many meetings he had to attend in it, “It’s still a massive mess.”

The rest of the day was luckily uneventful. Samuel left, and the Slayer and Crüe went to the armory and retrieved their armor and weapons, taking it back home to work on and polish up.

He even jotted down a few ideas for improving Crüe’s armor, desperately wanting to get his lover into something more protective. He also jotted down a few ideas for Daisy’s weapons he planned to make.

Daisy gladly helped them sharpen anything they needed with her impressive teeth. With her collar she joined in their conversations a bit. It was odd but the Slayer absolutely adored it. It finally felt like he had a connection to her the same way Crüe did with Haru.

Halfway through when Crüe was already burnt out from the constant cleaning he leaned over the Slayer and placed the man’s helmet back on his head. His shoulders sagged with relief at the comfort of his vision being confined by the visor and the thick metal wrapped around his head squeezing his head in familiar spots.

“I know you want your helmet.” Crüe cooed, wrapping his arms around the man and swaying back and forth.

The Slayer turned around and smiled up at him, he couldn’t lie and say that it didn’t feel like home being wrapped up safe in his armor. All he could think of was how Crüe’s face had lit up when he saw his face, how he would catch him stealing glances. “Maybe I’ll leave it off for a little longer.”

Crüe pulled him closer by the small of his back, “Really?”

He glanced down at the corner of his hud feeling an emptiness at not seeing Vega’s symbol there, and quickly took the helmet off, setting it back down on the table. “It bothers the gauze.”

The demon reached up and rubbed a thumb over the corner of the gauze, and kissed the man’s forehead. He wasn’t quite sure what relationship the man had with the helmet, it seemed like when he was scared or embarrassed he wanted it based on what happened in the bedroom. He expected the man to immediately put it back on as soon as he got it back.

The Slayer reached up and kissed the demon’s lips, leaning into his warm touch. He wasn’t quite ready to admit he liked not wearing the helmet.

In the end there were rags stained with cleaner and gunpowder, tossed all over the floor and kitchen table.

“Done?” She asked.

Crüe stretched and groaned, “We have to be. I’ve never cleaned my armor that good in my entire life. My fingers are gonna fall off.” He whined as his fingers actually ached.

The Slayer looked over at Crüe’s work. It had improved since he last tried to clean his armor, but he shook his head, “I just wanna finish up my own armor and then I’ll touch up yours. Did you use the leather cleaner?”

Crüe grumbled, “No I didn’t. It’s fine. It’s so clean I’d eat off it.”

“I don’t know if I should judge your cleaning skills or how low your standards are for eating off things.”

He gave up and slunk over to the couch, “Do what you will with my armor you evil man! I’m gonna watch my goat documentaries.” Crüe cuddled up with Daisy’s squabs who had been napping on the couch for most of the day. They both squirmed into the crook of his arm feasting off his warmth, their full bellies from Daisy feeding them bits of ground beef. They really didn’t do much other than nap and eat. Crüe could honestly scoop them up and plop them down anywhere they were so chill.

The Slayer was only another thirty minutes or so until he finally deemed the armor fit for action. He sat down beside the demons, “So what’s going on in the goat world?”

Crüe handed him the squabs and stood up to make popcorn, “Tonight it’s all about Ibe- Ivex… how do you- ugh- I don’t know how to pronounce it but they look amazing! Big tall horns and mean looking eyes!”

“Ibexes?” The Slayer offered, amused at how much the marauder was absolutely fangirling over these goats. He should take him to a taxidermy gallery one time and show him all the weird horned creatures earth had. He’d probably go berserk if he saw a non-typical whitetail deer.

“Yes!” He tossed a bag of popcorn into the microwave, slamming the door shut triumphantly.

They sat for the rest of the night munching on popcorn while Crüe commented on the goats on the nature drama documentary thing. They both started cheering on the under dog goat, well Ibex, named Jared versus a big puma named Fang, with Crüe getting way too invested in Jared.

They went to bed early to be ready for hell tomorrow.

Chapter 58: I'll Take My Armor Off for You (So I Can Kick Your Teeth In)

The announcer spoke in a calm, smooth voice, her words were being broadcasted both inside and outside the city. Right now it was nothing but filler, merely teasing the event that was about to take place.

Cars putted along slowly in the streets to get a glance, people looked up from their lives and stared at the electronic billboards above them, listening to the broadcast. Elena Richardson stood, staring outside her window at the dusk settling down on the city around her. She sipped on wine while the broadcast played on the TV behind her. Samuel wrapped his arms around her, pressing his faceplate against her head, “Let him deliver us from evil.”

She took a long gulp of wine before turning to face Samuel and the broadcast, “Amen to that. I just hope the power holds out for the broadcast.” She walked over and lounged on the couch. Lifting up Daisy’s children onto her lap, she turned up the volume with a remote. “Does this come with a holomap?” One of them tried nippling her fingers and she smiled down. “Awww you guys are so cute.”

“Indeed they are. I do enjoy watching them for her, but I’ll never admit it.” He sat beside her, tucking his long legs under him and leaning his head towards her. “Also what’s a holomap?”

“You’ve never had a TV with a holomap before?” She turned and tilted her head, baffled. “There’s no way you’re that old!”

“I never bothered myself with such things.” He laughed at how dumb he was before, trying to cut away at his humanity.

Elena leaned her head against him and grinned up at him, her scars pulling her smile in goofy, adorable ways, “I’ll show you, don’t worry. It’s a secondary way to watch stuff, a more immersive experience. Sometimes it’s just the same stuff on the TV or sometimes it adds to the show. My favorite crime show has a holomap that makes your whole room into the set of the crime scene so you can look for evidence yourself.”

That sounded absolutely amazing, “That sounds fun.” He looked up at the broadcast, “I'm not sure if this will come with one or not.”

Sure enough, Elena got it working and it did. It was similar to Vega’s “holomap” of the Slayer that showed the area around him as he walked around and fought. It was displayed over the short black coffee table in front of them so they could easily view it. It wasn’t the dull basic hologram Vega used, it carefully converted the Slayer’s surroundings into the most beautiful and accurate map Samuel had ever seen. Each pixel was like a tiny glimmering star and gave off a faint white glow.

Both of Daisy’s squabs watched the holomap like cats, their little yellow eyes darting back and forth.

Elena gushed over the details put into the environmental art of the map around the Slayer, and suddenly the real broadcast began.

“To the citizens of earth, ARC invites you to a special evening program. The holomap suddenly shifted into a 3-D image of the Slayer, shimmering like a firework, and quickly shifted back to the map. In ten minutes, our beloved DoomSlayer is allowing us to take an in depth look into his work. He will be patrolling the perimeter of the city and slaying any demon he sees with an unholy ferocity and brutality!” The map changed once again, showing the Slayer standing on a pile of demon corpses with his fist in the air.

“Man, they really want you to put on a show.” Crüe looked away from the TV and the announcer singing the Slayer’s praises outside the closed doors of the airlock, as they got ready inside of the outposts built into the wall. He was shocked at how tall the walls were when he first saw them. They towered as high as some of the shorter skyscrapers in the city, made of concrete and thick metal. Dispersed throughout the wall the occasional turret sat, ready to shoot at any moment.

The Slayer had been sporting a big smile on his face ever since he woke up; he was so excited to show off to the humans. “I know, it’s exciting. All these cameras and stuff.” He tapped the camera they had mounted on his head and turned to Crüe, “Just remember-“

“I know, I know. No PDA when the cameras are on, no baby talk, and don’t die.” He felt sad about the rules, well minus the not dying one. He understood it would be a lot at this point to have their relationship exposed, but Crüe wanted to at least be able to give him some encouragement when he got done brutally killing a demon, but they were the Slayer’s rules so he would obey, for now.

The Slayer bent down to help Daisy with some armor on her back, “There you go!” He turned to Crüe, “I don’t wanna tell the humans yet.” He gave the demon a glance.

Crüe nodded. He understood the man. He definitely didn’t want hell to know about him and the Slayer. Yet still… Why couldn’t he have his cake and eat it too? He gripped his axe and felt the familiar pulse of Haru inside it. It distracted him from the upset feelings buzzing around in his heart.

Daisy chipped and chattered excitedly, the collar occasionally picking up on something, “Excited! Happy, happy! Demons!”

“Turn on your holomaps and get ready for the event and demons be warned! The Slayer’s time is NOW!” The broadcaster’s voice boomed through the TV as the operators who would be monitoring the Slayer and his equipment cheered.

“Ready?” He looked over at Crüe and Diasy.

“Ready!” She carefully stood and took out her combat shotgun, loading a round happily.

“Ready.” He nodded and fidgeted with his axe.

“Excuse me, sir?” An operator walked in and wiped off the camera attached to the man’s head, “Sorry it was dirty.” He sneakily grabbed the Slayer’s hand and thrust a piece of paper into it before quickly hurrying back into the command station.

The Slayer looked at the note while talking to Crüe, “You got your med kits, water, rations, ammo, and the beacons?”

The demon nodded and tapped the satchels on his tool belt where each individual thing was kept. “Got 'em all.” He clipped his face mask over his mouth.

“We’ll head around the perimeter counter clockwise. If you get lost, drop a beacon. Once we’ve finished the perimeter we’ll head out towards the distress signal.”

Daisy tilted her head, confused.

“What distress signal?” Crüe looked over. He had heard the plan twenty times from the Slayer, but never anything about a distress signal.

“That operator that just came in gave me a note. He thinks his sister is hiding in an abandoned radio station a few miles west of the city. Last night it let out a distress call but it was deemed too risky for troops to go in. It’s worth checking out.” The Slayer pointed back to a swarm of operators in the room behind them as they waited in the double door airlock, leading to the outside.

“Ooh, a secret mission.” He had never really been on a rescue mission before, but he was extremely excited.

“Five… four… three… two… LET THE DOOM SLAYER FREE!”

“Cameras on. It’s showtime.” The Intern who had volunteered to work side by side with the operators announced into the Slayer’s helmet.

The operators opened the doors and the Slayer stepped out into the fading evening sun outside the city walls. He marched like a soldier, out into the woods about a hundred and fifty feet. There was a worn path big enough for a tank to drive down and he turned and started walking down it. This was the path around the city the soldiers used to patrol. Now, it would be the Slayer’s job.

Crue followed close behind with Daisy right on his heels. Haru wasn’t out yet, he was waiting for a demon to be killed so he could drink some blood.

Up in her apartment, Elena watched with enthusiasm as the camera on the Slayers helmet recorded everything he was seeing. “What demon do you think he’ll kill first? Maybe that Dreadknight who tried to get us!” She hoisted her glass of wine into the air and puffed out her chest.

Samuel chuckled and slowly reached out to wrap his arm around her, “Probably the marauder if he gets on his nerves.”

She kissed the side of Samuel’s face plate and smiled.

Back down outside the city walls in the strict “no kissing” zone of the Slayer’s own making, nothing was happening.

“Did the demons hear the broadcast and run away?” The Slayer turned towards Crüe. “This is getting ridiculous.”

The demon looked at him and then directly into the mounted camera, awkwardly looking back at the Slayer, hoping he didn’t look too weird staring into the viewer’s souls. “I know it’s odd not to see anything.”

As time wore on they were almost getting comically bored at the lack of demons.

“We’re halfway.” The Slayer sighed, “Still no demons.”

“We should make Daisy run ahead and pretend to be a demon. I'm getting bored.” Crüe complained.

She happily trotted twenty feet into front of them and puffed out her wings, “Hisss I will eat you. I am demon!”

Stopping his push forwards, the Slayer put away his shotgun and pointed a finger gun at her. “Pew.”

“Aaaagghhh! I is dead!” She fell over dramatically; then, popped back up. “This more boring than rocks.”

The Slayer snorted out a rather ungod-like laugh, “The demons are just too afraid of you, Daisy.”

She sat for a moment pondering the fact that her epic demon slaying coolness was causing the demons to run, “Ehh… Fuck.”

Crüe giggled, “God I’m not gonna get over her being able to talk. It’s so funny.”

“I know.” The Slayer had a grin on his face under his helmet.

The Intern spoke in his helmet, “Most of the time this path is swarming with demons, just look down you can still see their footprints.”

He did and saw hundreds of footprints in the dirt. Imps, Hell Knights, Mancubi, everything and yet no demons anywhere around.

Samuel turned to Elena, “How come I didn’t see that path when I went out in the zone to find you?”

Elena turned the broadcast’s volume down a click, “It’s not a perfectly flush perimeter. In some places the path juts out into the deeper areas. That’s why you walked out and never saw it. It was beyond the area we were in. In those areas we are planning on expanding the wall and building more.”

Samuel nodded, “Ahhh I see.”

Back in the land of boring, population two demons and one DoomSlayer, they trecked along. Just as Elena had explained, the path curved away from the wall, taking them deeper into the rubble and woods, then it turned back towards the wall again.

The Slayer was getting frustrated. His grand entrance and show off to all of ARC had been less of a battle montage and more of a family hiking vlog.

He didn’t realize that nearly every single person left on earth was tuned in to see him no matter how boring it was. The Slayer had been a being of legend for the many long months of the invasion. His new allies and his banter with them was also interesting. Well maybe they were a little bored, after all not much had happened-

Suddenly, he was grabbed from behind and suplexed into the ground so hard he felt the taste of blood fill his mouth. For a moment he was dazed and gasping, then he got to his feet and began the fight.

It was a Dreadknight, roaring and foaming at the mouth it was so enraged.

Crüe hurled a beam from his axe at the beast and it dodged out of the way as it swung its bladed arms. The Slayer loaded his ballista and held down the trigger, letting the cord get pulled so taut it nearly snapped.

The beast turned and snarled, sprinting towards him, hoping to vivisect the man before he could shoot.

The Slayer let go of the trigger and the ballista fired, releasing a destroyer blade so powerful that it cut the beast's head clean off.

Its body collapsed to the ground, twitching and jerking around wildly before finally laying still. Its head, with its face still trapped in a wild eyed snarl, rolled a little ways down the trail.

“Is… is that it?” He looked around hoping for more. The Slayer lifted up his helmet to wipe the blood off his chin, and spit the iron tasting liquid out. Man his mouth hurt and ached like a mother fucker.

Daisy let out a little undignified screech, “I didn’t get to SHOOT!”

The Slayer looked down and patted her head, “Next time.”

Crüe activated his axe and out popped Haru, who ran over and began lapping up the pooling blood. “Awww He is a good boy! Yes he is! Yes he is!” He gleefully violated the baby talk rule and patted his dog’s head.

The dog wagged his tail and almost grinned up at the man.

The Slayer teased the dog calling him and tapping at the mounted camera, “Haru!”

He looked up and tilted his head. Then, he snarled and pouted upon seeing the lens. He couldn’t believe he had been tricked into being cute on camera. Haru continued drinking the blood and felt his muscles grow, he was returning to his old form.

“Half a mile left.” The Slayer turned to Crüe, a little upset. Then addressed the camera that had been showing his point of view to the audience watching the broadcast.

Crüe huffed, “Today wasn’t very good hunting.” He patted his side and Haru eagerly padded over and sat next to him.

“Boring as ROCK!” Daisy groaned and pouted.

They walked back but suddenly veered off the path a little ways before they reached the outpost in the wall.

“Where are they going?” The Intern leaned back in his chair, taking his headphones off, and looked at the operators, confused. He searched their faces for answers but they all shrugged, equally confused as well. “Slayer, Sir, you’re off the path.”

“I’ll be back.” He kept walking, nearing the radio tower after only a little while.

Samuel grumbled and leaned forwards, placing his own glass of wine on the coffee table. “What the hell are they doing?!”

The gray squab took a running leap and knocked over Samuel’s glass caterwauling as it doused itself in wine.

“Ahh shit!” Elena leapt up and got a towel, hoping to save the white area rug.

The pinkish squab went to leap onto Elena’s glass and Samuel snatched the little creature up in midair, “Don’t you even think about it!” He looked up at the TV, trying to figure out what the hell the Slayer was doing.

Thick vines and trees had surrounded the outpost, making it almost seem like something out of a science fiction movie. The Slayer wandered around, looking through shattered windows and kicking down dilapidated old doors.

It didn’t take long to find the main broadcasting room on the second floor of an abandoned building. Desks and chairs littered the room like everyone left in a hurry.

Haru was sniffing around, examining everything, while Daisy was poking around at a broken keyboard on a desk.

“How old is this dude’s sister? Do we have any reason to believe she was able to survive a nearly year long demonic siege?” Crüe looked under a few desks, half heartedly. He knew exactly how demons operated. They wouldn’t leave a good meal behind.

“I’m not sure, but-” The Slayer stopped as he had come upon a pile of bodies that had been calcified along with the hell flesh around them. Their mutilated faces caught mid scream now looked like one of Michelangelo's marble sculptures. He hesitated and wondered if this would end up a recovery mission.

Suddenly Haru began barking at a vent cover that was slightly ajar. Crüe called him away, as Daisy perched on a desk, trying to peer into the vent.

The Slayer carefully rushed over and pried off the vent, peering inside. “I know your brother. He sent me to find you.” He didn’t know it was the operator’s sister or a demon, but he shoved his head in the vent anyway.

A young girl no older than ten poked her head from out behind a corner, with big wild eyes. She was filthy and her hair was a mess, matted and sticking up. The poor thing looked skinny and her cheeks were sunken in.

Trying not to make any quick movements, he slowly reached down and opened a pocket on his belt, drawing out a small ration. “Hey kid, you're safe now.”

She darted forwards on all fours and snatched it, retreating behind a bend in the vent. For a moment the Slayer wondered if she was a zombie the way she violently tore into the small cracker ration. Her hands cupped to food, but they didn’t raise to meet her mouth; she slammed her mouth into her own open palm, forcing her hands to the floor. The Slayer could see she was biting her own fingers as she tried to eat, and he quickly covered the camera on his head with a hand to offer her some dignity.

He spoke louder, “Hey kid. It’s safe.”

He felt Crüe touch his shoulder, “Is she ok?”

She heard Crüe’s voice and looked up wildly at the demon, pulling a giant revolver out of her mangled clothing and fired a shot right at the demon’s head.

Crüe screamed and jolted back, clutching the base of his horns.

The Slayer whirled around terrified, “Hit?!”

The demon patted his head and horns, “Oh thank god it didn’t hit my horns!” He thought for a moment, “Or my head.” He sagged with relief, “Is she ok?”

The Slayer peered back into the vent, but she was gone. “Dammit! She’s skittish but hungry, gimme rations.”

He handed them over without question, feeling embarrassed he had messed up the little rescue mission for her. He opened his mouth to apologize, but the Slayer saw him out of the corner of his eye.

He looked over and mouthed, “You’re fine. Just help me.” He removed his hand from the camera allowing the audience to see once more.

Crüe nodded, sat down on the floor, and helped him open the ration packs. Just as he started opening the last one, he froze and shushed the Slayer. “Did you hear that?”

The man paused, but he didn’t hear anything, “No?”

Haru let out a low menacing growl and his ears went up, listening. Daisy looked around then suddenly she heard it and puffed her wings out.

A cacophony of scraping claws and hissing erupted from the vent. The little girl crawled out of it screaming and barreled right into the Slayer’s arms. He hugged her and turned away, expecting his back to get the brunt of her pursuer.

An imp leapt out and tried to slice through the Slayer to get to her, but Crüe kicked the creature in mid air and sent it flying into Haru’s dripping maw. The imp was dealt with and Crüe, Daisy, and Haru tried to put as much distance between them and the child as possible for fear of getting shot at again. Crüe even called Haru back into the axe, hoping to protect his pup.

“Hey kid, you're all safe. Look, eat and rest.” He turned her around and handed her some of the ration packs. “Sit, sit.” He insisted, not knowing how she had survived this long without food or water. He supposed a gun would get you far in a demonic invasion, his own experiences could attest to that, but a child fighting demons all scared and alone? He felt sick.

She greedily grabbed a canteen off his belt and drank the water while glaring at him, making sure he didn’t dare make a move.

He went to move to offer her a medpack for her scrapes and cuts, but in an instant her hand was resting on her holster proudly displayed on the side of her hip. “Can I see your gun? I don’t want you to shoot them.” The Slayer slowly took off his helmet, revealing his face to her.

Upon seeing he really was human, she gave him a big grin and handed him the gun as she sat down and happily munched on rations. Taking time to relax, and slowly eat them like a normal human.

He looked it over. It was a big game revolver that shot massive bullets. It was surprising the little girl could even shoot it without being thrown backwards. He opened up the gun and quickly removed the five bullets that were left, before handing it back to her. “I had that same gun.”

She looked over and nodded, “I found it on a dead man. He had the one with the shorter barrel too, but I can’t shoot it. It’s too strong.”

Finally, she spoke. The Slayer nodded and made sure to give her his undivided attention. “Your brother is safe and he wants to see you. I can take you to him.” He was happy she could still speak, at least all of her humanity wasn’t lost.

She let out a little giggle, “I thought he died. I’ll get to see him again! I sent a signal but I thought no one saw!” The little girl rocked back and forth with glee, but suddenly stopped, “Oh wait. Is it gonna be dark soon?”

The Slayer looked over at Crüe, “It’s evening so probably thirty minutes of daylight left, right?”

He nodded but just barely, not wanting to speak and spook the child.

“We have to stay then.” She shook her head and scooted closer to the Slayer.

“Why?” He asked.

“Since I shot the gun they know I’m here. They follow me everywhere and they will attack at night. I’ll have to hide.” She went to stand but the Slayer stopped her.

“Nothing will harm you if you come with me. I promise.”

It took her a long time to consider that offer, but against her better judgment, she agreed. “Ok I’ll go with you now, but can I get my stuff?”

“Of course just be careful.” It made him anxious seeing her crawl back in the vent, but he didn’t want to force her to part with her things. The Slayer assumed they were things like a sentimental teddy bear or a notebook. He was quite surprised when she emerged holding two deer rifles and a necklace made from the jaw bones of imps.

“I wanna show these to my brother.” She pointed at the jawbones. “He likes weird stuff like that. When I was little he had a baby shark in a jar and he’d chase me around the house with it, and he also had a big bug collection, but I didn’t like the praying mantis so he’d leave it in front of his door so I wouldn’t go in his room and bother him when he had school.” She rambled on, staring at her horde. It just felt good to talk to someone other than herself.

The Slayer put his helmet back on and nodded, “He sounds mean.”

“Yeah but now I like the weird stuff too, so it’s all cool now.” She waved her hand and nodded, “I can’t wait to see him.”

The little girl’s brother watched his sister grin through the Slayer’s camera. Endless tears rolled down his cheeks as another operator patted his shoulders, “Hey pal there she is! The Slayer went to the distress signal!”

Cheers erupted through the outpost, and people celebrated like they had just landed on the moon. It marked a new shift in humanity, dangerous missions were now able to be easily completed by the Slayer.

The humans were now on the offensive.

Crüe spoke up very slowly. He tried to make his voice sound as normal as possible, but the demonic edge still shined through, “Let’s head out soon.”

Daisy agreed, “Want to go home, show the kid her brother, and nap”

She looked over at him and Daisy, “So why do you have those guys with you?”

“They are demons that help me fight.” The Slayer explained. He was going to tell her that she could trust them, but he had a feeling she wouldn’t appreciate that. “Just don’t shoot at them. They are good guys like me.”

The kid was untrusting, but she nodded, “Ok I won’t shoot ‘em, but give me the bullets back. I saw you take them.”

The Slayer could accept he was caught in a lie and opened a pouch, taking out the five bullets, “You’re observant.”

Crüe screamed internally at the Slayer giving big game bullets back to the child that had tried to shoot him. “Yes, please don’t shoot me or Daisy.”

The little gargoyle was slinking along, trying not to draw any of the little girl’s attention to herself.

She took them and loaded them into the pistol with an unwavering precision. “I’ll try not to.”

They all walked down stairs and out into the cool open air.

The Slayer’s head was on a swivel as they walked back, he was looking out for anything that might hurt the kid. She seemed so small and fragile, that a crack in the sidewalk felt like it might just suck her down into the earth. “Hey I can carry you kid.” He realized that he probably should have asked her what her name was, but ‘kid’ would be good enough for now.

She turned towards him and stretched out her arms.

He scooped her up awkwardly, not having any clue how to hold a child. She wrapped her arms around his neck, slightly strangling him, wrapped her legs around his torso, and used his arm as a seat to support her weight. She felt kinda like one of those facehugger things from “Alien” that latch onto you, but he trekked on.

An imp scurried across their path, making the Slayer jump with surprise. It darted into an abandoned building. He watched as another imp scurried across the rooftops and darted inside the second story window of the building. “Wait, something is wrong. Hey kid, get behind me.”

“Listen.” Crüe could hear a hundred little scratching noises within the building, it sounded like little claws.

The Slayer paused to listen and suddenly he heard them, surprised he hadn’t noticed the constant scratching noise, “It’s a horde!”

The building burst, its windows and doors exploding outwards. Out came an endless flow of imps, charging towards the Slayer. He took out his plasma rifle and began melting the crowd of demons, but it barely stemmed the flow. He switched to the rocket launcher and that improved the crowd control, but the imp horde still rushed forwards.

Daisy took to the sky and hurled sticky bombs into the horde of demons, when they went off, blood splattered up onto her armor.

Crüe kept an eye on the kid, and kept looking behind, taking out the few imps that tried to flank them. He also contributed, hacking a few imps up with his axe.

Finally, he took out his chain gun and squeezed the trigger until the whole barrel was glowing cherry red. He could feel the thrums of every bullet hitting a demon in his own chest. The amount of blood and gore covering the streets was unholy. Finally, the last imp killed over, dead.

They began quickly pressing on, rushing along, desperate to get out of the woods and into the city. Crüe scooped up the girl, hoping she wouldn’t blow his head off. The sounds of demons rose up all around them, a response to the rain of bullets. The long winding walk had tired them out, and now they were gasping as they used up the last of their energy sprinting to the outpost.

The Slayer had never been so happy to see an airlock and they rushed towards it. He waited outside his gun facing the outside world as Crüe and Daisy rushed past him with the kid. As he saw demons step out towards him, he got inside the airlock and closed the door. The child was too precious to be risked.

Chaos unfolded around him as the airlock door opened inwards. People came rushing out to care for the little girl, and Daisy leaned up against him chirping happily.

He closed his eyes and rested for a moment, excited to patrol again. He couldn’t believe that he forgot how much he loved killing demons.

The little girl poked him and he looked up.

“Here I said I couldn’t shoot it anyways!” She handed him the short barreled pistol.

He took it, vague memories washing over him, and nodded, “Thanks kiddo.” Checking quickly to see it was unloaded, he set it down beside him. His face felt sticky and sweaty so he lifted up his helmet to get some fresh air. A nurse came in and leaned down, “Do you need stitches for your lip?”

“Nah I’m fine. I’ll heal fast.” He waved her away. The Dreadknight had made him bite down on his lower lip enough to rip it up, but it wasn’t stitches worthy in his mind. Besides, he hated getting stitches.

Him and Crüe probably sat in the airlock for ten minutes or so. Then, he heard someone shout. He put his helmet back down and walked out into the operator's room.

A dozen operators were sitting, staring at screens bolted into the walls and awkwardly typing away as a commander was yelling at one of their coworkers. Most operators continued darting around the angry man and tried to ignore his shouts, but a few stood staring at the shitshow that was going on.

The Slayer listened for a moment watching the scene, unable to resist whatever drama was unfolding.

The red faced commander was directing his anger towards a rather defiant looking operator. It was the operator that gave him the note, the Slayer realized.

“You’re getting fired by tomorrow! You don’t derail a mission just cause!” He was pointing and stomping his feet, trying to be menacing and loud, but it made him look more like a child having a tantrum.

The operator suddenly snapped and stood up, answering the commander's rage with double the dose and knocking his chair over, “It was for my sister! I just handed him a note asking if he could find her and he did! He has more compassion for humanity than you ever could!”

Suddenly the Slayer recognized the commander as the dude that was naked in the hospital when he was trying to get a bag of blood. He wasn’t sure what real bearing that had on the situation other than it being an odd coincidence.

The commander looked up and walked over to the Slayer, doing the same angry toddler tantrum hand motions, “You shouldn’t have gone off course! You only listen to our official operators, not the backup operators! If you don’t listen properly don’t even come back for another fucking mission! My men can patrol the wall better than you could ever fucking dream of patrolling it! Don’t think you get to come in here and play hero!”

He was never good with words and getting hit with a fucking brick of a paragraph like that dazed him for a moment. The Slayer could understand if he had taken a patrol of soldiers way off course and gambled their lives, but he risked his own life, “Are you upset I rescued a civilian?” He grimaced under his helmet.

“I’m upset you went off path and can’t listen to my fucking directions! I run a tight ship and I can’t have assholes like you coming in and messing it up!” The man pointed his finger accusingly at him and grabbed the collar of the man’s armor, shaking him a bit before letting him go.

The man felt his blood boil, as he stared in disdain at the commander.

Crüe placed a hand on his shoulder, “Hey let’s just go. This isn’t worth a fight.”

The Slayer balled his fist but slowly let it relax. In a rather uncharacteristic moment he listened to reason and took a peaceful route, “You’re right.” They began walking down the hallways, towards the exit of the outpost.

“That’s right, go fuck off!” The commander hollered after him.

“I’m gonna kill him.”

“He’s just trying to press your buttons.” Crüe turned and realized that the Slayer was actually walking back down the hall towards the commander. “OH SHIT.”

The commander puffed himself up, “Take that armor off and let’s go!”

All the nightmares of when he was sent to Phobos after attacking his commander came rushing back to him. He had to leave everything behind… his parents, his bunny, his friends… He wasn’t going to leave Crüe or Daisy. He wouldn’t let anyone give him that hopeless feeling again, and in an instant he lost all control.

The Slayer reached down into his armor around his collar bones and pulled two tiny cords. They were emergency pull strings that immediately let him shed all his armor except his helmet. He stood before the commander as his armor uselessly slid off his muscles revealing his black mesh undersuit. His fists were balled up as he held them up in front of his face.

The tiny operating room exploded into chaos, people were shouting and cheering for both sides. Military officers trying to push through the crowd of officers to help diffuse the situation were being pushed back. The Slayer felt like a gladiator.

He charged and swung the first punch that connected with the Slayer’s forearms, pushing them back into the man’s helmet, slamming it against his busted lip making him wince. Now that made the commander smile, the big fucking idiot getting what he deserved.

The Slayer responded by returning the punch but the commander was already fighting dirty and leapt on the Slayer, pulling him to the ground. He got on top and slammed the commander down onto the grated floor, bending it upwards.

The commander grabbed the grate and used it to defend himself as the Slayer stood, lifting up his helmet a bit and once again wiping bleeding lip. He felt Crüe grab him but he shoved him away, the blood pounding in his ears so hard he couldn’t hear anything except his own rage.

The commander was grabbing something under the grate and triumphantly leapt upwards holding a can of spray paint. He planned to spray the Slayer’s helmet and face but didn’t get to execute his idea.

The Slayer proceeded to fucking maul the man. He wasn’t tolerating anymore of this bullshit and grabbed him by the throat, tackling him to the ground and snatching the spray paint out of his hands. Every time he gasped for air the Slayer nailed his open mouth, eyes, nose, ears, and face with the bright red paint. When the commander finally would get enough sense that closing his mouth would do him some good, the Slayer would lift him up and slam him down, making him cry out and giving him more red paint in his face.

The commander reached up and grabbed the Slayer’s shoulders, trying to push him away. It made the Slayer scream out in agony as he had dug his fingers right into Crüe’s bite.

Samuel looked over at the TV as he sat in the kitchen drinking more wine with Elena, he thought the program would be over once the Slayer got back, but he was still attacking. “What is that?”

She squinted, “Is that… the outpost commander?”

Samuel damn near leaped up out of his seat like a fish and ran over to the TV, leaning against the back of the couch, “Surely he wouldn’t-“ He could clearly see, plain as day, the Slayer was beating the shit out of a person. “HOLY. FUCKING. SHIT.”

Crüe kicked the man hard in his ribs, getting him off the commander and sending him hurling off to the side. “He’s down, leave him alone!”

The commander pulled back his legs and kicked the side of the demon’s knees with as much force as he could muster, watching as he cried out and collapsed to the floor.

The Slayer was on him again in a moment, he hurt Crüe. His fists connected with the man’s face again and again. He watched as consciousness left the commander’s body, leaving him limp and knocked out cold. Crawling off the man and standing up, he looked down at his bright red hands barely any of it was blood, it was all that red paint. He couldn’t convince his rage-filled mind it wasn’t human blood though. He felt sick and walked down a small side hallway, slumping down against a wall, his breathing heavy and shaky.

Crüe followed him a few seconds later, limping ever so slightly. Daisy wiggled past him and sat beside the Slayer. “Are we in trouble?”

“I don’t think so,” he spoke, struggling to get past the tightness in his chest, “Your leg?”

“I’m fine.” The marauder hissed out as he sat down beside the man, “Just a cheap shot. Let’s go home.”

Chapter 59: Please Don't Leave

When the Slayer woke up the next day around midday, Crüe, Daisy, and her kids were gone. He had basically collapsed into bed as soon as he got home and now he sat alone, his head swimming with the memories of his nightmares.

Fuck.

The stupid commander should have just kept his mouth shut. He should have shut up and if he had an issue he could have come to the Slayer much later and talked. He groaned and rubbed his face, he then realized his hands were covered in red paint and some had smeared on the bed sheets.

The Slayer hurried into his bathroom and immediately showered, getting the red off his body. He then cleaned the sheets and fixed little things like door knobs that he had coated in paint.

He wasn’t sure where Crüe and Daisy were but he missed them so much. He wanted to call but he realized the demon didn’t even have a phone, so he made a mental note to get Crüe a phone too.

He sat on the side of the bed, his wet towel barely wrapped around his waist. He stared off into space not feeling up to anything. He wanted to cry and scream.

The sound of his apartment door opening snapped him back to the present and made him stand and hurry out, “Crüe, Daisy?”

It wasn’t either of them it was Samuel, peeking through the open door, “Hey are you feeling better?” He seemed sympathetic. “Oh, if you need to change, I can wait.”

“Where did Crüe and Daisy go?” He clutched the towel around him tighter. “You can come in.”

He happily stepped through the door and examined the man from a distance, “Daisy got upset about everything that happened, I think she was worried that ARC was going to arrest you, so she tried biting a hole through the door. Crüe was worried about her, so they went to my apartment then took a walk around the nearby lake.” Samuel pointed at the chunk missing out of the door and the Slayer wondered how he didn’t notice it earlier.

A wave of dizzying relief hit him and he wasn’t sure why, “Ah good.” He sat down on the couch and realized that Samuel’s recliner was no longer there. “Hey.” He pointed.

“Daisy shredded it to pieces.” Samuel cut the man off before he could respond, “ARC was pissed at what you did.” Samuel sat down on the couch, beside the man. The Slayer looked bad, eyes sunken in, a frown plastered on his face, and a look that could suck every drop of energy out of a room. It looked like he had been through hell. “I mean why did you even attack him like that? That was brutal!”

“In my universe… I punched my commander when he told me to shoot up a bunch of non-combatants… that’s how I got sent to Phobos. They arrested me, put me in jail for a week, the hopeless feeling of just sitting there waiting to be shipped off… I lost everything I ever loved.” the man had to pause and calm himself before continuing, “That’s how I became the DoomSlayer. My punishment of working on a boring station turned into fighting on the front lines against hell. When that idiot got in my face I felt all those feelings again and it just happened…” He sat back against the couch sort of staring off, deep in his own memories. “He should have kept his mouth shut; I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Spraying paint in his mouth and eyes was too much, Slayer. That crossed a line.” Samuel looked down at the man, feeling awful. He looked defeated and depressed, this situation had trapped him in a mini hell of his own. The robot sympathized with the man, but Christ…

“I’m not going to jail, right?” The Slayer rubbed at his head with a spare hand.

“No, don’t worry about things like that,” Samuel laughed, hoping to cheer him up, “You probably should have shut your camera off ahead of time.”

He looked up, eyes bulging out of his skull, “Oh my god they never shut the camera off?” He felt sick, he probably looked like a monster.

He felt like a monster.

“ARC’s gonna pay the commander off, the video is being slightly suppressed online. Though the public loves it. Just remember humans are off limits next time.” Samuel couldn’t stand seeing the Slayer so defeated and his laugh didn’t seem to rouse the man from his sadness so he stood up, “We should go find Crüe. Would you like to come?” Maybe a walk around the lake would get him talking more as well.

“Yes definitely.” The man went into the bedroom and threw on a shirt and some shorts. He noticed he was running out of clothes. Most of the stuff ARC had given him was lying on the floor in a crumpled pile. He needed to do laundry, but a smile crossed his face. One day he was force feeding someone paint and being terrified of what happened eons ago in another dimension, and now he was worrying about doing laundry.

They walked to the lake and began the hike around it. The silence between them was heavy, but Samuel suddenly broke through, “I know how you feel. That hopeless feeling of having to leave earth.”

The Slayer shook his head, “You got the dream job with the UAC running an entire planet. Didn't you go to college too, and you got a position on every single council you could have ever dreamed of?”

“So you paid attention to the codexes?” Samuel laughed, “It was all family money. Specifically, my grandmother. I was able to get my Masters in Theoretical Physics on my own, but I would have never been able to get into Oxford on my own accord. College and the councils were all her connections… and money.” He said begrudgingly. “I met a woman I loved so, so much. We bought a house and we were gonna get married. Then, Grandmother got me a job with the UAC because she didn’t like her. If I didn’t go I’d be disgraced in the scientific community, not to mention my own family.” He looked up at the trees for a moment, “I never saw her again, I never saw earth until a few months ago. She died seventy years ago, and I never got to attend her funeral. I remember getting the fucking notice on my desk and I ignored it. When I got my robotic body I tried trimming away every part of my humanity so I’d never feel that again but now I want it so badly. I want to feel life again and I’m willing to suffer through the pain to get it.”

They both stopped and stared out at the shimmering water. The setting sun hid the cars and rubble under the water. It looked perfect; it looked normal. “I hope everything works out between you and Elena.”

“Thanks. I hope the same thing for you and Crüe. Relationships are a lot more complicated than I remembered them in my college years.” He shuffled his feet and stared out at the water, leaning against a tree. The railing had long tapered off and the trail was a few dozen feet back from the water.

“We both are pretty fucked up.”

“Agreed.” Samuel grumbled, putting his hand against his forehead. “Humans are meant to live in huts and poke at things with sticks. This is too much sometimes. I feel like we will be our own doom sometimes.”

“Neither me nor you are really humans anymore. We are just some half mortal things made from some necessity.”

That was surprisingly eloquent coming from the Slayer and Samuel turned to look at him, wondering if he was reading a note. The man wasn't, he was just staring out with a sad expression, “You from the threat of war and me from the fear of death?” He tilted his head.

“Yup.” He turned to Samuel and mirrored him, leaning against a tree.

“Very ‘horsemen of the apocalypse’-ish. I like it. We just have to find famine and conquest and we can have a big party. Of course you could probably fill the role of conquest as well as war.” He reached out and picked a small beetle off the bark of the tree.

“I saw your body.”

“What?” Flicking the beetle away, he turned towards the Slayer, confused.

The same dull, sad expression wasn’t leaving his face and Samuel was beginning to worry more about the man. “Your corpse. They have it in cold storage in the hospital. I found it when me and Crüe snuck away and I was looking for blood to feed Haru.”

“Oh…” If Samuel had eyebrows they would have shot into the upper stratosphere he would have raised them so fast. “Well, how did I look? Also how the hell did you sneak into the cold storage.”

“A little bit terrifying, but you weren’t as ugly as I pictured you’d be.” He chuckled and jokingly punched his arm, wincing as his fist hit the metal.

Samuel snorted, “Ooh ok you got me. Now please explain how you snuck into the hospital when I specifically told you not to get into trouble.” They began walking again.

The Slayer laughed back at the robot, glad he wasn’t getting chewed out for being a bit mischievous. “The commander that I punched was naked in a room. His clothes were outside so I stole them and pretended to be a rookie from the science division.”

Boom exactly what Samuel wanted, a way to circle back to the commander and the man’s tumultuous past, “So did you lose control fighting the commander, or did you know what you were doing?”

“A bit of both,” the Slayer shrugged and kicked a particularly smooth rock out of his way, “If I'm being honest at the beginning I thought of being forced to leave Crüe and Daisy. It was just too much, it set me over the edge. Then I attacked and I knew what I was doing there. I knew exactly what I was doing.”

“In your past life- or universe I suppose… Did you have a family?” Samuel looked down at the man, searching his face for some kind of reaction.

The man was silent for a while before he finally spoke up, “Let’s talk ‘bout something else.”

Damn. He pushed too far and lost his chance.

Samuel agreed and they continued walking, chatting about the weather and the forest like two old ladies. It didn’t take them long to come upon Crüe and Daisy with her squabs.

The demon was sitting on the bank in the same place where Marty had taught him to go down to the water’s edge. He was hunched over, his feet in the water as he skipped stones rather badly.

Daisy’s children were paddling in the shallows while she floated in the water, letting them use her puffed out wings as a little raft. Every now and then she’d let out a little whimper. Crüe would hush her and continue to look out over the lake and skyline.

“It’s getting dark, Daisy, we have to head back soon.” He urged her to head back even though he didn’t want to either.

“Not going.”

“Daisy.” He pleaded. “We can’t sleep outside.”

“Yes we can.” She shifted in the water, her kids squeaking as they clutched on. “It called camping.”

The Slayer was slowly walking down the stream bed to surprise the demons. It was rather treacherous. Tiny pieces of slate and slippery mud made it hard to walk silently. He never realized how hard sneaking was.

Samuel was following close behind him, perhaps a little too close. The robot's feet slipped out from underneath him and sent him tumbling down into the man. They slid down the hill and smashed into Crüe before he could even turn around, sending all of them crashing into the shallows.

“Hey?!” The demon whirled around angry and soaked to the bone. Then his face softened.

The Slayer was sitting on his ass in the water, a little piece of an aquatic plant stuck on his wet forehead. “We were trying to surprise you. That damn hill is just too-”

Crüe tackled the Slayer in a hug, and Daisy rushed over, wiggling her head in between their chests and making all sorts of happy noises.

Samuel rose from the muck like a creature from the black lagoon and wiped a big chunk of decomposing pond slime off his face plate. He realized the disgusting slime was all over his body, and getting into his joints. It was going to be hell to clean. “Ugh… this is disgusting.” He whined. “Ew! I can feel it seeping into my joints!” His nervous system was picking up every beautiful little glop of slime, “UGH!”

They all crawled back up onto shore and sat down facing each other. Daisy and her kids were snuggled up to the Slayer, chirping their happiness.

“Are you ok?” Crüe asked the Slayer.

The man wondered what Crüe thought of him last night. He knew when he got home he was acting like a zombie, snapping at every little thing before finally collapsing into bed. He nodded, looking down at the wet ground and the rivulets of water flowing away from his soaked body, “I’m sorry I lost control like that. I should have stopped and gone home when you told me.”

“Well,” Samuel decided to speak up before they got too lovey dovey, “While he is being paid off, It looks like the commander is getting a dishonorable discharge, for a variety of reasons.”

For a moment the man’s face wrinkled in disgust. He didn’t care about that awful commander, or what happened to him. The Slayer patted Daisy's head and leaned against Crüe’s warmth, the chill of night was beginning to creep over his wet skin, “How’s the girl?”

“She spent a night in the hospital and was reunited with her brother, very touching. Have you checked the news?” Samuel looked out over the water, giving them a bit of privacy.

The Slayer laughed and shook his head, “Are you kidding me? I’ve been doing everything to avoid looking! Is it bad or good stuff?”

He turned it face then again, “They absolutely love you. Some people were pissed about the commander, but they are the minority. You’re on the cover of every magazine with the little girl in the airlock and beating the shit out of the commander. People are saying the legends of their savior are true.”

The Slayer smiled to himself. He was glad the girl was safe, that's all that mattered, and he was also glad the commander had gotten what was coming to him. Daisy nibbled his fingers and he wrapped his arm around her. “Let’s head home.”

Chapter 60: Chase Away the Dark

They had dried off Daisy's little squabs and put her to sleep before retreating into the bedroom. Now, they laid in bed under the covers, simply staring up at the ceiling. It was so quiet and warm. Faint glints of moonlight filtered through the shutters laid, splayed out, on the bed.

“That was terrifying.” Crüe spoke in a soft little voice, rolling on his side to curl his body around the Slayer better. The blankets shifted and the mattress let out a little creak.

He looked over and smiled at him, but in an instant his facade fell and he began to cry. “I’m sorry, Crüe.”

Crüe reached out and held him close, trying to hush his weak little cries. “No, no you did the right thing.”

The Slayer shook his head. Doing the right thing shouldn’t make him feel like a monster. He lost control and picked on someone that was definitely not his own size. He finally explained everything to Crüe, gushing out all the fear he had felt and why he had snapped. That honestly he was just so afraid of being taken away again, having his family torn to shreds after so much time spent rebuilding.

After the explanation, they were sitting up against the headboard, they had tried to turn on the lamp, but the electricity curfew forced them to use the flashlight on the Slayer’s phone to chase away the dark. Crüe was rubbing his back as he held onto him for dear life. The tears had stopped, but he struggled to find any more words. His throat felt as raw as it had felt before the surgery.

“No one will ever take you away from me.” Crüe slightly shook the Slayer and waited until he looked up, wiping his tears. The demon held the side of the man’s face, “No one will take you. I promise on my life.”

Something about the moment seemed so powerful, the Slayer nodded and gave the demon a quivering smile, “Thank you.”

Sleep came to them fast, they were both dead tired and practically melted back down into the covers. Soon enough morning was glaring through the window, directly onto Crüe’s face.

He hissed and rose up from the bed like a zombie. The smell of breakfast was wafting through the apartment and he stumbled towards the source, only half awake.

The Slayer was making some delicious waffles and some bacon too. A load of fresh laundry sat on the couch and Daisy was attempting to fold it. Her kids were squabbling and wrestling in the middle of the floor.

Crüe walked over and hugged the man from behind, making him jump for a moment before he turned around and smiled, “Hello!”

The demon grinned and reached around the Slayer, stealing a part of the waffle and popping it in his mouth. “Mhm, hello.” He watched as the Slayer cooked, “I feel like I should be cooking, or doing something, you should rest.”

“I’m fine, but you could help me make the potatoes.” He pointed at a bunch of potatoes on the counter and Crüe began preparing them.

The rest of their day was blissful heaven. They went out on another walk and when they got back they discussed the finances.

That was painful and their sorting system had much to be desired, but it was semi-functional which was basically fully operational to the Slayer. The Slayer had already cashed his first check. He made almost two hundred and thirty dollars yesterday. He had only “worked” for four hours due to the severe lack of demons, but he was still quite proud of that achievement.

They set up a few banking accounts with the Slayers phone and they went out on the town and bought Crüe a phone as well. While the demon drank a beer and snuggled up next to him, playing a game called Plague Inc, the Slayer watched the news that was talking about him. Some were calling him a savior, others a false sacrosanct.

He brought up a beer bottle to his lips and drank it down, a grin on his face and Crüe by his side.

Chapter 61: (NSFW) 1234

Notes:

NSFW warning

Samuel was laying in bed, staring at his phone. Elena said she wanted to hang out today and that she had something to show him. He leapt out of bed and rushed over, getting ready as fast as possible.

He just wiped himself down and sprayed a bit of cologne on the wires of his neck. People told him the scent smelled nice on him when he was a human, but he wasn’t sure if it would blend with metal well. Plus, he didn’t exactly have a nose to smell anymore.

He had stayed up late last night, carefully cleaning his joints. His knees were so bad he had to disconnect his nervous system and remove his lower legs just to clean them. It was traumatic to see himself without legs yet again, yet strangely comforting to be in control of the process. Progress in his healing he hoped.

He hurried over to her apartment and opened the door, revealing Elena sitting on her couch, a sketch book in hand with a variety of dildos in front of her. He let out a shocked noise, and wanted to slap himself. Why didn’t he knock? “Elena, I apologize! I should have knocked!”

In his mind he made a vow to never forget to knock again.

She looked up and laughed, motioning him over, “No, no, this is what I wanted to show you!”

He took a step forwards, maintaining a good distance between him and the silicone dicks. “Dildos?”

She grabbed his arm and yanked him to sit on the couch, “Look.” She brought his attention to her sketchbook. “You wanted me to make a design for your… thing, didn’t you?”

“Ahh!” He laughed, feeling dumb he had forgotten. “I did, let me see what you’ve been working on.”

The dick she had sketched was surprisingly complex and impressive. It was curved upwards slightly made mostly of metal segments.

She tapped the drawings of the segments, “That way it will be able to shrink back down and go back up inside your crotch. I don’t think you’d want to walk around with your schlong hanging out all day long.”

He chuckled, “As fun as that sounds, I agree, but you don’t have to worry about the mechanics. I appreciate you’re thinking of me but I can handle that.”

“So just focus on the design.” She nodded and looked up at the dildos on the table, “Hmm… I see.”

He scratched the back of his neck, “So are these all yours?” The coffee table looked like it had grown a forest of multicolored penises. Some were suction cupped to the table and others would stand up on their own accord. He had never really looked at a dildo before and he was surprised at how detailed some of them looked. Some actually had colors that he thought were actually kinda pretty.

“Oh!” She blushed and pressed her pencil against her cheek, suddenly realizing that it was a little embarrassing to have all of them out in the open, “Yes they are. I suppose I’d be even worse if they weren’t!” She made a few quick lines on the sketch book and showed him, “I was thinking of having that segmented metal base and then a smooth silicone underside with two squishy ridges on the side.”

“You’ve put a lot of thought into this.” He smiled and pressed his faceplate against her. “I’m touched.”

“It’s just exciting!” She leaned against him. “I’m overthinking it though I called you up here to help me decide on a design.”

“How many have you made?”

“Thirty seven. I just can’t decide!” She smiled at him, handing over the sketchbook. “There’s things from my toys that I like so I’m trying to mesh it all together into the perfect thing for you.”

“Dear god.” He flipped through the sketchbook, “That’s a lot of penis.” He flipped a little too far and came across a drawing that wasn’t a dick. It was a beautiful sketch of the lake with a little duckling paddling on the water, leaving ripples in its stride. “I didn’t know you could draw like that.” Elena looked embarrassed so he handed the sketchbook back to her.

“It’s really not that good, look how fucked up that poor duck looks.” She pointed at the ducks head and wings. “It looks more like a swan I think, and its foot that’s underwater looks like a penis.”

“Well I love it.” He leaned against her and touched the page. “Maybe you're just naturally talented at drawing penises.”

That earned him a smack from the side of her pencil. They talked for a little while longer and settled on a design. It was similar to the one she first showed him, but with more squishy, textured ridges and a more realistic head. As a bonus they designed it to have testicles that could be loaded with lube to mimic a “release.” He was actually sort of touched that Elena wanted him to enjoy it as well.

One part of Samuel’s brain was being very scientific and carefully calculating measurements and structure; the other part was going “Hehe! A woman is talking about my PP!” So he was struggling to focus, but soon enough it was fully fleshed out, she led him down to her lab to model and print it.

It was beautiful, a large spacious room with computers, 3-D printers, and workbenches. One of the walls had floor to length ceilings that faced the halls and other rooms. Samuel was able to see across the hall, into the other room, and out at the city the windows were so huge and clear.

She quickly modeled her sketch off a base she had nearly finished while Samuel watched over her shoulder and gave suggestions. “So how big should it be?”

“Well.” Elena paused for a moment, “Would five and a half inches be ok? I mean we can always make another bigger model but that’s probably the most comfortable side for me. It might look small considering how large you are though…” She looked back at the modeled dick on the screen.

“I’ve long learnt that my worth isn’t tied to dick size, choose whatever you please. Only you are going to be seeing it.” He pressed his faceplate against the side of her face, and she grinned at him.

“Thanks Samuel.” She made a few more tiny adjustments and began printing the dick’s components. Twirling around in her chair she smiled at him, “I could look in your pelvic cavity to find a good way to attach it and hook it up to your nervous system.”

That sounded so hot… Samuel nodded happily, “Of course the parts will take a while to print.” The two nerds collected supplies and Elena dimmed the windows, giving them privacy.

She wheeled over a chair similar to a dentist's chair and locked it into place on the floor, instructing Samuel to lay down.

“Ooh,” He tapped the arm rests, “You have all the gadgets here.”

She gave him a warm glowing smile and pulled a chair over to sit beside him. “Are you cozy there?”

“I feel like I should be in stirrups for this but I’m perfectly fine.” The awkwardness that Elena was going to be opening up his pelvic cavity and dig around in his wires began to set in.

Elena chuckled at that and grabbed a small machine, “What’s the cord to access your brain? USB or USB-C?”

“USB-C I’m a fancy top of the line model.” He watched as she got a cord and plugged it into the side of his head then into a nearby computer.

“What’s the file name for- Ahh shit what’s your password?”

It was SAMUELISTHEBEST42069, but he felt too embarrassed to tell her that. “Just reset the password.”

She clicked around and nodded, “Ok what should it be?”

“Just make it 1234.”

She looked over her shoulder, “That doesn’t sound very secure.”

“Who’s gonna break into my head? An alien?” He shifted against the chair and leaned back. “I have a decent firewall, I'll be perfectly fine.”

“Ok,” she filled out the field and reset the password to ‘1234’ with a few taps of her keyboard, “So what is the name of the file I have to enable?”

Samuel felt an invisible blush creep across his face. “Ok, so I named the folders dumb stuff because it’s inside my head. I didn’t think anyone would see.”

“Samuel.” She turned around and leaned against him, moving the cable to smooch his face. “What’s the file?” She perked up and looked down at him.

“It’s called… uhhh- ‘Penis whacker 2000 plus.’”

Elena turned around, trying to keep a straight face, but as soon as she saw the file name pop up in the search she burst into laughter. “Penis whacker!” She wheezed, and turned to him, “I’m sorry I’m not laughing at you.”

He let out a chuckle, “I know you’re not.”

“It’s so strange.” She looked at the screen then back at him, “Your whole personality is kept in this folder?” She selected a folder named “My Feeeeelings (Property of Sammy)” and dragged it around, interested.

“It’s a backup, but yes. It’s off putting, seeing my entire life condensed into a folder.” He watched as she enabled the folder “Penis Whacker 2000 plus.” A sensation flooded through his crotch and belly, the nerves from the Hell Knight vibrated oddly. “Ooh… that’s… interesting.”

Elena slowly unplugged him from the computer and turned, “Good interesting or bad interesting?” Her hand reached down and laid on his belly.

He wove his fingers in with hers, “Elena.” His mechanical voice spoke softly, barely above a rumbling whisper. He pulled her hand down and placed it on his pelvic plate, sending shockwaves up his body.

She leaned in closer, rubbing the plate between his legs. “How does it feel?”

“Sensitive.” He whined, “Very sensitive.” Samuel shifted on the table, begging her to continue.

She suddenly slapped his arm and shoved him off the chair.

“Hey where can I smelt metal? I promised I’d make Daisy a gun.” The Slayer barged into the room but luckily the chair faced away from the door.

Samuel whirled around and up off the chair, “Uhh…” He shook his head and thought for a moment, “In the boiler room they have a furnace down there. It’s in the basement.”

“Ok.” He looked around, “This is a pretty awesome lab. What are you guys working on?” He peered in at the parts being printed, but luckily a bunch of circular segments being printed didn’t reveal much.

“Just some…” Elena looked up at Samuel, “Umm…”

“Some flashlights.” He spoke finally.

“Oh cool. Well I’m gonna head down.” He turned around, “Crüe it’s in the basement let’s take the metal down there.”

The sound of a hundred pound bags of metal being dragged down the stairs filled the lab. “But I just dragged it up here!”

Elena crossed the room and shut the door, locking it. “Back to our project.”

“Yes,” Samuel grumbled putting his hand under his chin, “Should we try opening my pelvic plate?”

She nodded and reached down pressing two strong thumbs against the side of the plate, popping it up. “Oh wow.” She gazed inside him at all the tiny wires. “So I was thinking we could mount it right here.” She tapped the front most part of the hole left in the pelvic plating.

Samuel nodded, enjoying the feeling of her fingers against his metal, “There’s tabs inside to screw it into place.” He felt her reach in and touch them.

“Ooh ok I can feel them. What type of screw?” She reached her hand further back, feeling around the cavity.

He shook his head, “Here, make sure not to touch my wires, it feels awful when they’re touched. There’s a white wire you’ll have to connect to my dick, but try not to touch anything else.”

She nodded and her wandering hand retreated and began mounting the bracket that would hold the dick. “I’ll mount this then connect the nerves and cover the rest of your pelvic plate with those sheets of metal.”

The bracket for his dick only took up half the space of the hold left by his removed pelvic plating. She carefully reached into the opening and grabbed the white wire. It was made of bundles of nerves and she slowly attached it in the bracket. Then, she covered the hole with a plate and smiled, “We just have to wait for the dick now.”

So they did. Chatting and talking, they waited for the machine to finally finish printing their masterpiece. Suddenly the lights went dark and the printer shut off. “Shit!” Elena looked around.

Samuel pulled her close, up onto his lap. “Let’s just wait until they turn back on.”

She straddled his crotch, kissing the wires of his neck, “You smell nice.”

He placed a hand on her ass, feeling her up, “I used cologne.”

Seconds spread into minutes and finally the power turned back on after twenty minutes of waiting. “Christ.” Elena looked worried.

“It’ll be ok. Humanity always finds a way we will figure this out.” He held her hand and looked up at her.

“This was the longest unplanned outage yet… I feel like we’re doomed.” She leaned against him and held him close.

“What about the promising stuff and experimental developments?” He asked, hoping those were going well.

“A few are actually promising, but the rest are absolute bullshit that are no better than pseudoscience.” She sighed and kissed Samuel again, enjoying the scent of his cologne one last time before getting up to fix the 3-D printer.

After another thirty minutes it was finished, and they both nearly jumped with joy when it finished and quickly assembled the dick, forgetting about the power outage and incoming doom.

He supposed that was fitting. Even as the world burned down around them and the rapture loomed, humans would be talking about dicks and doing dumb shit until the very end of time.

Elena made him lay back down and she attached it to his bracket, “Ok. How does it feel?”

Samuel looked down to see he finally had a manhood. It looked beautiful and the fact that it was handcrafted by Elena made it that much better. “Thank you.”

She crawled up on the chair and straddled his lap, smelling the cologne on his neck. His dick was curved in front of her, pressing against her own crotch. “Can I test it?”

“Of course.” He watched and she slowly slid down, her mouth hovering above it before slowly sliding down it.

Immediately the most excruciating pain zapped through him and he shoved her head away, shrieking like a madman, “JESUS CHRIST!”

“What happened?!” She leapt up confused, “Are you ok?”

“Too sensitive.” He groaned out in a pained voice, “Go back in my head and turn it down.”

For about an hour Elena had one hand on the computer adjusting his pleasure cortex and the other on his dick giving him a handjob, for science.

Finally Samuel found the perfect setting, “Right there, right there!” He moaned and writhed in the seat a little, “Elena.” He whined out as he moaned, legs twitching off the chair.

She smiled and held his head, unplugging the wire once more, “Let’s go to my bedroom.”

Chapter 62: Small Talk and Weapon Forging

The Slayer was wearing dark tinted goggles, as he used metal tongs to pull a bucket of molten steel alloy out of the furnace.

Crüe watched from a distance, leaning on a shovel, jammed into a pile of coal. “Need more fuel?” He hollered.

The man shook his head, he didn’t need any quite yet, and flexed his muscles pulling the white hot metal onto a table he began pouring it into the dyes he had laid out. The process was slow and tedious, not to mention hot. Damn near lava was flowing all around him making the room's temperature skyrocket, yet he had to wear a thick leather apron to protect himself from the sparks and splashes as he poured into the dyes.

Yet surprisingly, it was going fast. Daisy was disassembling his guns and placing the parts in a wooden box filled with sand. The cavity they left would be filled with molten metal, effectively copying and pasting the guns part by part.

“More fuel!” The Slayer turned back to the furnace and retrieved another bucket of molten metal, expertly maneuvering it with his tongs.

Crüe grabbed the shovel and opened a door on the side of the furnace. Flames leapt out, guzzling down the extra oxygen. The demon began shoveling coal into the fire, feeling as though he was fueling the fires and brimstone of hell.

It took them nearly eight hours of constant work to get the parts made. Not to mention a decent amount of time in a machine shop forging the parts that were too delicate for this procedure. They let them cool in water and came back an hour later to assemble the guns. It was sort of fun, like building a killer Lego set. The only thing he couldn’t reforge was his super shotgun. It didn’t come apart and he figured Daisy was too small to use it. After all, the first time she tried using it she almost got gobbled up by a cacodemon.

“How come you’re so good at this?” He snapped the scope onto the heavy cannon and looked down the sights.

“I have to reforge my weapons often, or find new ones. They break all the time and I lose them often.” The Slayer looked up at him, “Would you want me to make you new weapons before I reassemble my guns?”

Crüe shook his head, “My axe is my buddy! Besides, Haru would get too jealous.”

The Slayer laughed as he finished up Daisy's own combat shotgun. “I wish he could be out more, I’d like to bond with him.”

He was touched and gentle butted up against the Slayer’s side, his heart thoroughly warmed, “Really? I’ll tell him you said that.”

Daisy spoke up, “Mhm doggie is friendly, I like dog.”

Suddenly they were startled out of their work by Crüe’s phone buzzing, alerting him of a random notification for a mobile game. It vibrated off the table and right into the bucket of water they used to cool metal down in.

He shrieked, “FUCK!” I’m an instant he was down on the floor, fishing it out of the bucket. “It’s wet, can we fix it?” They finished up the guns and took them back to the apartment along with the demon’s phone, putting it in rice. Crüe sat on the couch and sadly stared at the baggie of rice, “Will it be ok?”

“Rice will give phone hugs and make it better.” Daisy rested her head on his shoulder, comforting him.

The Slayer nodded, walked over to the makeshift armory they had in a corner, and grabbed the demon’s axe, “Haru!”

The wolf bared his teeth and appeared in an orange mist, ready to kill whatever stood in his way. Then he looked around and happily waddled over to Crüe, hopping up on the couch to sit beside him. “Thanks Doomguy. I missed you little man. How have you been?”

He pawed at the demon, and looked up at him with big eyes. Begging, he whined, upset.

“Oh no, are you hungry?” His face immediately fell, “I’m sorry Haru. I know it’s tough being out of hell where blood is scarce. I promise I’ll get you more, enough to gorge yourself so you’ll be able to be around more.”

“Wait.” The Slayer stood and rummaged around the fridge, “What in blood makes him stick around longer?”

“I don’t know. Sometimes I think it might be like proteins or whatever is in blood, but sometimes I think it’s spiritual or something.” He seemed sad and dejected, who wouldn’t be at the fact that their pet couldn’t be around often?

“Here, we are trying something today.” He grabbed a packet of the blood smoothie mixture and followed the instructions to make it, “Haru try this.”

He lapped it up and wrinkled his nose at the taste. It was awful, everything felt wrong and disgusting.

The Slayer sat down, now dejected as well. “We’ll figure something out I promise.”

Crüe nodded and pulled Haru close for a few final minutes before the wolf faded away back into the axe. “Man…” he sat up and switched to snuggling against the Slayer, “I wish I could think of some substitute or something to give him.” They all kept up small talk for a bit before looking sad and rather bummed out.

Daisy dipped away for a second and hurried back with her two children, placing them in the marauder’s lap.

“So did you ever pick out names? It’s been so crazy I forgot to even ask. I’m sorry.” Be petted her head and scooped up the little pink squab.

She spoke and pointed at the child, “Missy.”

“Awww!” The Slayer smiled and booped Missy’s nose. “How’d you think of that?”

“Missile!” She happily shrieked. “But I can think of no more names, help.”

Crüe set Missy down on his leg and picked up the unnamed gray squab, “So you need a name, little guy.” He paused, “Wait, are they boys or girls? Or do gargoyles even do the whole gender thing?”

“Meh, sometimes. Also don't know yet,” Daisy shrugged, “They aren’t grown yet.”

“Hmm…” he examined the little beast and turned to the Slayer. “What do you think?”

He shook his head, “I’m awful at picking names. I mean I go by Doomguy or the Slayer! You’re asking me for advice?”

“True, you’d probably name them Gray Squab, or something.” He poked the man’s ribs. “How about… Meral? Those big doe eyes, they look like a little fawn.”

“Missy and Meral?” Daisy squinted her eyes, “No.” If there was one thing Daisy hated more than arrogant asshole archviles it was absolutely awful alliterations.

“What? Ok fine.” He thought for a moment longer, “Stag?”

“No.” She shook her head.

The man chuckled at Crüe’s naming attempts, “How about… Orca.”

“Orca…” Daisy copied his voice and nodded, “Yes. Orca and Missy. Missy and Orca. Yes, yes.”

Crüe rolled his eyes and flung his hands up in the air, “You name the gray creature after a black and white creature.”

“Well Daisy thinks it’s amazing!” He smooched Orca’s head. “Also are these kids from that one male gargoyle you were with?”

She nodded, “Yes. Then I ate him.”

Crüe groaned, “Oh we remember that.”

“I would like to get another mate.” She looked a little sad.

“I mean as long as you don’t eat them. We could work something out Daisy.” The Slayer smiled and patted her head.

“No, I'd eat them.” She nodded.

“Why do you always have to eat them Daisy?” Crüe pleaded with her. “I don’t even think that’s a normal gargoyle thing! Like that’s not even a tradition. I think you're just a serial killer.”

“It my normal thing.” She chirped.

He looked at the Slayer and pointed at the demon, “You are definitely a serial killer then!”

Luckily, they didn’t have to worry about arguing about the pedantics of what being a serial killer entailed for too long. Suddenly the lights flickered and went dark. They all became aware of the low evening sun, now the only source of light.

The Slayer craned his neck and looked out the window, “Holy shit.”

“What?” Crüe whirled around and gasped.

The entire city was pitch black, the only exception was cars stopped in the streets beginning to panic and honk their horns as traffic lights went dark.

“The curfew shouldn’t be in effect for an hour.”

“I don’t think this is the curfew.” He stared out at the widow. “I think the power is actually out.” He saw the hospital lights flicker on, powered by a backup generator and half the turret stations on the outer wall powered on.

“Samuel said they only had a few solar panels and a few tons of coal were running this place.” Crüe looked concerned. “What else do humans use for power?”

The Slayer stared out, fear gathering in his belly. Windmills wouldn’t be an option. The city barely had a breeze most days. The waterfall might be able to give them a little bit of Hydro power but barely a sliver of enough for what they needed. Nuclear would be able to work, but they didn’t have enough room to expand outside the walls of the city and build a plant. They could dig under the city, but where would they get the power to even dig? “There’s a few things, but this is bad.”

Daisy let out a nervous cry and Crüe hurried over, scooping her, Missy, and Orca up into his arms. “It’s ok.” He returned to the Slayer’s side. “Should we head to bed?” He leaned against the worried man.

The Slayer was lost in his own thoughts, if the human’s energy supply fell, they would be prey for all the demons within a thousand mile radius. Humanity's last large stronghold would tumble into the abyss. “I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep.”

Notes:

Shoutout to Hells and Minbari for helping me pick Daisy's kids' names

Chapter 63: Breaking News: Energy Crisis Averted?

Notes:

I can’t leave my house cause the of the smoke from the wildfires so I figured I’d post some fanfiction for y’all and anyone else bored inside.

The lack of power in the night didn’t faze Samuel. After all, every day for a few hours in the darkest part of the night, the power is shut off to desperately try and conserve the coal they had left. It was the random power outages that scared him.

Of course it also didn’t faze him for another reason. He had stayed over Elena’s apartment all night, rigorously testing the durability of his new body part. She had tried every damn thing in the book and even some stuff he had never even heard of. By the time they fell asleep he was tired, sore, and so, so happy.

His joints felt achey. He vaguely thought that he’d have to oil them soon. The sex was wonderful. A bit awkward due to his lack of experience, but wonderful.

Faint echoes of orgasmic pleasure rattled around his skull when he moved his hips, but he hushed his urges. “Elena?” He looked around, realizing she wasn’t in bed with him.

A shrill scream from out in the living room pierced the air, making Samuel leap up out of bed. “ELENA?” He was convinced an imp was ripping her to shreds again and ran out.

She was standing, staring at the TV, a breaking news story flashing across it, and talking to someone over the phone. “Ok! I’ll be right down! Where’s the head of the energy division?” There was a pause as she listened, “Well, mobilize troops and get the Slayer ready of course! We need it locked down now.” Another long pause before she spoke again, “Ok wall section four, zone ten. I’ll be down but keep it under control.”

Samuel staggered over, leaning over the back of the couch, panicked, “The Slayer, the wall? What happened?”

Elena turned with a smile on her face and jumped up on the couch, standing on the cushions so she could kiss the robot. “We did it.”

“Did what?” Samuel asked, pulling away from the kiss.

“An energy source, a new one, we found it. Samuel, we found it!” She laughed with sheer joy and fell back on the couch.

“Well what is the power source? Nuclear?” He walked around the couch to sit beside her, letting her rest her head in his metallic lap.

“Close.” She looked so beautiful and happy at this moment, “It’s in the severely corrupted zones.” Her phone rang loudly and several messages came bursting through. “I- They need me. Samuel, I'll be back later.” Elena hopped up and kissed his head. She struggled to put on a pair of high heels and grabbed a briefcase off the floor by the door, “Oh!” She poked her head into the room again, “Go get the Slayer! Hurry! Go! Go!”

Samuel was pleased and also terrified, despite all his work with hell he worried about what they had found for energy, but he knew who the true king of this matter would be. A short walk later he explained the whole situation and asked the question, “So what do you think?”

With his matted hair and drool smeared face, the Slayer blinked and looked up at Samuel from the covers of his bed. “What? How early is it?” He rubbed his face and hid from Samuel’s stare with his hands, “You said thermodynamics and my brain just shut off. Why did the power go off last night?”

Crüe, still half asleep, let out a soft groan and scooted closer to Doomguy, wrapping an arm around him. “Stop. talking. ‘bout. nerd. shit.”

“It’s like 6 AM get your asses up. I thought you woke up at 4 AM? Come on!” He poked and prodded the Slayer to no avail. “Oh we’ll do this the hard way then.” He walked into the living room and plucked Daisy out of her nest, nicking his rubber on the sharpened mattress spikes. Shaking her awake, he spoke, “Go lick the Slayer’s face.”

“Can I?”

“Yes, you have my permission.”

She scuttled out of his grasp and into the room. He heard her leapt up on the bed and the Slayer burst out into an explosion of swears. Thirty seconds later he stomped out of the room, glaring at Samuel and clutching Daisy. “What happened? I didn’t understand anything that you said. Does it involve demons?”

“Possibly. Here,” he reached down and grabbed the TV remote, “Watch the news.”

Despite telling him to watch the news. Samuel just talked over the reporter, “So at dusk they’ve been shutting the power off, and last night they moved it to 7 PM to 5 AM, but they just discovered a new energy source!”

That actually perked the Slayer up. There was no better adrenaline inducer than hearing the humans found a new energy source. Would it be calm and relaxing like wind, solar, or water; would they harness the power of a nuclear bomb; or would they tap into the very fabric of reality like a leech and drink from hell itself. It always kept the man on his toes. “What is it?”

“So it’s from the hellified zone-“

Immediately the Slayer stood and began suiting up in his armor he had laid out in their armory pile. “Me and you are going and checking out whatever they found right now.” He slammed his gauntlet-covered fist on the bedroom door, “Crüe, wake up! We gotta go fight demons!” He set Daisy down and began getting her ready to fight.

The demon arose and washed his face to wake himself up; then, he quickly suited up. “Haru needs more blood” he mumbled, half asleep.

“Most likely we’ll find plenty.” The Slayer was preemptively pissed, his gut was telling him the shit was about to hit the fan.

They rushed down to the fourth wall section and waited. The entire outpost was bustling with life. Operators and scientists running around, getting pearly white containment boxes ready to store… something.

The Slayer pushed past the crowd and grabbed an important looking operator, “Load the coordinates into my helmet. I’ll go check this out.”

The man nodded and quickly did as he was told. “There you go sir! Good luck!”

The coordinates were pointing him 5 miles south from the city. He quickly pulled Crüe, Daisy, and Samuel along through the airlock and they walked out into the eerily quiet land.

“Sir!” The familiar voice of that one intern echoed through his helmet, “Can we stream from the camera in your helmet?”

“Sure,” he responded rather gruffly, looking down as Daisy butted up against his leg.

Crüe shot him a look, “Calm down let’s see what this is first before we freak out.”

He didn’t respond, only walked ahead so he would have to listen to anyone. What if it was a portal to hell? It didn’t matter if it was small, only five miles away would be disastrous for ARC. His head ran through scenarios and he found himself nearly dashing and sprinting the whole way there.

“Wait!” Crüe yelled. “We can’t keep up!”

The Slayer paused for a moment, “Hurry up then!”

“Stop being a fucking asshole!” Crüe yelled right back at him.

Daisy chirped, “Is ok! Don’t fight!”

Samuel trotted along feeling extremely awkward, like a third wheel, as they squabbled and yelled. “Yes. Let's just all calm down.”

The Slayer whipped around and pointed an accusing finger at the robot, “You’re the one who got us into this mess in the first place with argent energy! You took the crucible from me just to fuel humanity for a little bit longer! I could have stopped this from happening if you let me!”

“Humans need an energy source or we’ll be as good as dead!” Samuel yelled back, not taking his own advice of calming down.

“Let’s see what this power source even is! We are yelling over nothing!” Crüe silenced both of them. “Keep your eyes out for demons and let’s keep walking.”

The Slayer felt annoyed and pissed and was ready to strangle anything and everything. “Dammit!” He walked forwards and almost tripped over a half alive zombie that groaned loudly. He caught himself and began kicking the shit out of it, stomping the humanoid form until it was only a paste. Then, he moved forwards towards the coordinates still damn near sprinting.

Samuel, Daisy, and Crüe gave up trying to follow the man. She trotted along and eventually forced Samuel to pick her up.

“I know he gets angry, but I think we just have to wait and see what happens with this.” Crüe confided in Samuel as they walked.

The robot nodded, “I’d like to agree, but the Slayer is the expert on these affairs. He’s watched humans dabble in hell and get burnt so many times. He knows what to watch out for.”

The demon grimaced, “I know, I know.”

They walked like this for what seemed to be forever. The trees and ruins of the city faded to a wasteland of sorts. Green grass struggled to grow up through the rubble and a strange heat permeated the land.

“He needs support, go hurry up to him; sprint if you have to.” He shoved Crüe forwards with his free hand and motioned for him to go.

Daisy watched as the marauder ran ahead, yelling out for the Slayer. “I named babies Orca and Missy.”

“Ooh!” Samuel looked down at her, “Orca for the gray one and Missy for the pink one?”

She nodded happily. “Missy short for missile. Very manly name.”

“Oh yes, definitely,” He smiled at her and set her down, “They stopped. I think we are here Daisy.”

She wriggled out of his arms and ran over to the two, staring at what they had found.

He stepped forwards and looked at the nearly endless energy source laid out before them, “Ahhhh I see. Slayer, is this satisfactory to you?” He turned rather smugly to face the man and leaned down.

With his face lit by a hellish light, the man nodded, and examined the wide chasm before him, “So this is the plan. I don’t trust it quite yet, but at least it isn’t demons.”

Chapter 64: Breaking News: FIREBLU

The chasm was filled with lava. The earth had been split open by demonic forces. The ground around the giant chasm was blistered and bright red, but the oddest thing was the color of the lava.

It was a stunning blue and white and burning so hot the Slayer could feel the heat through his suit. Bright blue flames would randomly burst through the crust of the lava like sun flares.

“Primeval lava.” Crüe looked out, “It’s amazing isn’t it.”

“What… what is it?” In all of the Slayer’s years in hell, chasing the heat lower and lower into the belly of the beast, he had never seen anything like this before. “Primeval lava?”

“Blue!” Daisy wiggled happily at the edge of the chasm.

“I thought it was only found in the deepest pits of hell, in obsidian caverns where nothing can survive.” He looked out over the lava, “It’s weird to see it on the surface. It looks like the sky fell down into a puddle.”

“Is it safe?” He asked tentatively. “No demons pop out of this stuff, or it doesn’t turn people into zombies, or-“

Crüe put a hand on the man’s shoulder, “It’s safe. When I had an apartment in Immora the entire complex I lived in was heated by a single drop of primeval lava.”

“Holy shit.” Samuel actually gave a little jump of joy, “Power, endless energy! Isn’t that right?”

The Slayer turned to lean against the demon then remembered the camera on his head and awkwardly turned back to the lava, “Ok, but I still want to keep an eye on it.”

As if they were waiting, suddenly a group of ARC personnel dressed in bright silver hazmat-like suits walked to the edge of the lava. Two stood out in particular as they were carrying an industrial looking white case for collecting the lava. They also had their names emblazoned on the back of their hazmat suits one was “Min” and the other was “Arsene” in bold black lettering, standing out on the bright silver.

They all set their cases down, and the two people in the labeled hazmat suits gave each other a stare worthy of a Wild West standoff. Both of them darted over to their coworkers, grabbed the long collection sticks. They bickered back and forth and smacked each other's head with one of the sticks. They both sprinted back over to the edge, leaning down over the side to be the first humans to collect the lava.

The coworkers cheered on both of them chanting their names. It felt like a little celebration.

The Slayer supervised their efforts closely. Though he was a bit disappointed when they both collected the first sample at the same time, even though he wasn’t rooting for either one in particular. It was a painless affair getting the samples back to mankind’s stronghold. The white containers were glowing an unholy, or maybe holy, blue.

“How come we didn’t know about this before? It was only five miles outside the city!” The Slayer brought up the rear of the group with Samuel still carrying Daisy in his arms.

“Our mapping satellites have been offline for a while, who knew satellites don’t like demonic scrambling? Anyways, last night a few scientists pulled all the power for the thirty or so minutes it was out and unscrambled the satellites. Then, we had a hit on something odd and extremely powerful near us.” Samuel explained and then went into boring details the Slayer didn’t care about.

The Slayer, Crüe, and marauder hurried back to their apartment. Now that the primeval lava was in the human’s hands it was up to the nerds to get it to work.

The demon sat down on the couch and turned on the TV to watch his goat show. “What?!”

“What’s wrong,” the Slayer quickly stripped off his armor and Daisy’s and sat down in his normal clothes.

He began undoing his armor as well, “It's an emergency ARC broadcast!”

Elena appeared on the TV, “Hello as you all know we have located a new power source for earth, but in order to hook up the power source and build the machines needed to utilize the primeval lava’s extreme heat we have to shut down the power for twenty four hours. External wall power and hospitals won’t be affected by this but residential and business will be. Thank you for your time.”

Immediately the power cut abruptly and Crüe groaned, “But my goats!”

The Slayer grabbed his horns, pulling him in for a kiss, distracting him from his disappointment. He stood and looked around at the room. It was slightly dark, but the large window was letting in the hot sun. “Maybe I’ll open a window, let some air in?” He could already feel the midday heat start to sink into his bones.

“Are you hot?” Crüe laughed. “You’ve spent eons in hell!”

“My suit has built-in cooling. I don’t like hot temperatures!“ he opened a window letting in slightly cooler air, but it was significantly more humid. “Damn humidity. That’s the one good thing about hell. It doesn’t have humidity. It’s a nice dry heat.”

“You sound like such a nerd. I love you.” He smiled, “There can’t be a difference between heat! Stuff is either hot or cold.”

“Just you wait.”

“I can handle the heat.” He winked at the man.

Notes:

Thanks Min and Arsene for being my bros

Chapter 65: (NSFW) Hot As Hell

Notes:

TW for Some good old fashioned smut, enjoy!

Crüe was right, he could handle the heat, but as the thermostat slowly crept upwards with the unpowered AC helpless to fend off the heatwave, he started to sweat. He first noticed it on his back and neck, but now his whole body was trying to keep him cool.

The Slayer had set up a little battery powered box fan and pointed it towards them, along with fanning himself with a newspaper as he read something on his phone. “How long has it been?”

“Like an hour.” Crüe laid his head on the man and peeked at his phone, mooching off the cool wind created by the newspaper, “What are you reading about?”

“The lava.” He skimmed a few articles about it, his worried eyes glancing over the stupid filler and ads.

He glanced at the articles and wrapped an arm around the man, leaning his hot body on him, “Slayer don’t worry about all that. Primeval lava is perfectly safe!”

He grumbled and set his phone down, “Humans do stupid things Crüe. They can take something perfectly safe and make it a goddamn disaster.” He rubbed his head, the heat radiating off Crüe felt like it was melting his bones and when he pulled his hand away it was covered in sweat.

“Don’t have such little faith in them. The lava can’t be used in weapons, trust me hell has tried. It’s used for heating rooms. I mean honestly how could you even make electricity from that?” He didn’t take the hint the Slayer was about to combust into flames and leaned on him more.

The Slayer paused and looked at him, “Wait, ooh,” Shaking his head he actually laughed, “I forgot about that Hell Essence. No, we use heat to warm water that makes steam to turn big turbines. A lot less dead bodies involved.”

Crüe tilted his head now quite intrigued, “That’s so odd. Steam? How does steam turn something?”

“How is steam weirder than pulling literal souls out of corpses?!” He tapped the demon’s nose, scolding him.

They bickered over steam and corpses for a while while Daisy lounged in the sun, enjoying herself with her squabs right by her side. They were getting big. She was having to feed them more and more every day, but today she wouldn’t worry about that. She was simply napping in the nice warm sun. It reminded her of hell.

Once Crüe finally conceded after the Slayer showed him a video of how humans make power, he stood up and grabbed a glass pressing it against the ice dispenser on the fridge’s door and nothing happened, “What’s wrong with it!”

“No power.” The Slayer was sneakily reading more articles now that Crüe had left him alone for a second. He knew that the lava was probably fine, but he was just on edge, like he always was. He had seen so much terror and horror caused by mankind, but this time it was different because he had something to lose. He glanced at Daisy and Crüe.

“What would someone make something as frivolous as this if it uses power!” He reached in the fridge and grabbed a few ice cubes out of the box like thing in the top of the freezer. He dropped them into his glass and let them rattle around. He then pressed his glass up against the water dispenser and nothing happened.

The Slayer poked his head back over the couch cushions and laughed, “No power!”

“Then how do I get water?!” He looked around angrily as if he expected it to rain down from the sky.

“The sink still works.”

“Well how does that make any fucking sense!” He threw his hands up and turned the sink on, filling up his water glass and drinking it angrily. He sat back down on the couch and leaned against the Slayer.

As the hours crept by with Crüe getting angry at every piece of technology that didn’t work, the temperature slowly rose. It was only 87 degrees, but the humidity made it feel like the surface of the sun.

Daisy had taken her kids to cool off in the lake and the Slayer and marauder were left alone in the sweltering apartment. Neither one of them felt like walking over 150 degree pavement to get to the lake.

Crüe leaned into the Slayer and dragged his fangs across the man’s face, making a very desperate plea for attention, “Ok you need a distraction from reading articles.”

The Slayer’s attention was most definitely captured, “My phone is about to die anyway.” He shut it off and laid it down on the coffee table, leaning back into the touch of the marauder. He kissed the demon, grabbing a firm horn and tugging the beast’s head down for easier access. “What do you have in mind?”

He tapped his claws on the Slayer’s back feeling up his muscles, “Daisy left, Samuel is busy with the lava, we are all alone…” His words trailed off because he simply had no use for them any more.

The Slayer looked over the demon’s shoulder and cast a glance toward their bedroom. “It’s hot as hell right now… let’s be quick.”

Crüe grabbed the Slayer and pushed him back against the couch, kissing every inch of his wonderful lips. He used his size to manhandle him a bit, but savored the idea that the Slayer could snap him in half at any moment. He grabbed his arm and pulled him off the couch and they rushed off into the bedroom.

The both quickly began undressing, the feeling of clothing being shed was actually a relief from the blazing heat, and luckily it wasn’t as hot as it was in the living room. Crüe held the man and lifted him up, moaning at the mere feeling of the Slayer wrapping his legs around him and kissing his neck. He tossed him onto the bed, crawling on top of him and pressing his body down into the mattress. He returned the man’s affection and began kissing his neck and mouth, giving him the lingering taste of sweat on his tongue.

Their bodies clashed together before the Slayer pressed a hand against the demon’s chest, feeling his heart beat wildly.

He leaned down and pressed his head into the man’s chest, his big horns resting on his collarbones. He let out a low groan, enjoying being surrounded by his beefy pecs.

The Slayer felt nervous again, but he decided to push through his awkwardness. Sure he might not have the most sexual prowess on the planet, but he was quickly learning what he wanted. He grabbed Crüe’s horns, forcing him to look up at his face, “Fuck me.”

Crüe was honed in on his prey like a snake and he slowly dragged his tongue up the Slayer’s chest. With one swift powerful movement, the Slayer felt himself pulled onto the demon’s lap, straddling him. He felt oddly comfortable in the moment, and was rather surprised he didn’t feel nervous at all or perhaps he was just so overjoyed to get out of his tight sweaty restricting clothes.

Crüe lubed up his fingers and pulled the Slayer close, pushing one, then two inside.

The man grasped onto him, letting out little groans, his thighs quaking ever so slightly. It felt mind-numbingly good and all his worries seemed to melt away. He’d have to do this more often…

Crüe bucked his own hips as he continued fingering the man. He felt his dick throb against the Slayer’s, driving him wild.

The man rolled his head back, moaning as he clutched onto Crüe with both hands. He couldn’t understand how the demon was so good at hitting all his most sensitive spots, nor how he kept up such a perfect tempo. He paused for a moment to readjust and when he picked up the pace again the Slayer pulled him as close as he could, hurrying his head into the demon’s neck, murmuring his praises.

Crüe kept working the man. His heart fluttered at the idea of actually fucking. He wasn’t sure if it was nervousness or joy. Sometimes his partner’s didn’t like how “textured” he was. He was just praying to the wraiths above that the Slayer would like his body. He slipped another finger in as he thrusted with his hand. Three would be enough to make entirely sure the Slayer wouldn’t have much pain. “Are you ready?” He pulled out slowly leaving the Slayer’s warmth behind.

The man nodded and looked deep into Crüe’s red eyes, “Yes.”

He slowly tried pressing the man down into the sheets to go for a missionary position, but the man popped back up like a damn bobber. He laughed and smiled at the man.

“What?” He gave out a little huff.

Crüe kissed his lips, still unable to contain his little smile. He’d have to be more direct. All thoughts of sexily motioning with their bodies and both parties immediately understanding where to go seemed impossible. To be fair, this was a very emotion-filled activity and the Slayer didn’t do emotions that well, so Crüe might as well be speaking a different language. “Lay down for me, Slayer.”

He nodded and laid down, but propped himself up on his elbows so he could get a better view. He dick laid across his stomach, throbbing every now and again.

Crüe carefully applied the lube all over his dick, making especially sure to lube up the textured spikes. In fact he sort of put an obscene amount of lube on them to the point where a little glob of it dripped on the bed and he let out a little hiss of annoyance, “I forgot to put a towel down again. Sorry.” He seemed flushed and nervous.

“It’s so hot we’d probably soak the towel in sweat anyways.” He rubbed Crüe’s leg, comforting the demon and himself. As calmly as he was chatting up the massively hung demon that loomed over him, the Slayer was so turned on he could barely believe it.

He nodded and shuffled forwards, leaning over the man. He could feel his own dick brush past the Slayer’s open thighs, “I’ll try not to bite.”

He nodded and took a deep breath, squeezing his eyes shut. He could feel Crüe slide in, with relative ease. He also felt the demon’s hands wrapping around his rock hard dick. It was an odd feeling that he couldn’t quite describe, but it felt bigger than he expected it too, and he could feel every part of it surprisingly, which made sense, but it just felt so odd. Then came the texture. Each spike slowly moved forwards, rubbing against his innards. It wasn’t painful, but it wasn’t as instantly pleasurable as he had expected.

Crüe paused and shifted his legs a bit, his voice was more gruff and demanding than usual, “Are you ok?”

The Slayer shook his head, eyes still shut, not wanting to insult the demon, “Yeah, Yeah, keep going. Just go slow.”

He continued and now the spikes weren't quite as bad, they just rubbed against the Slayer making him uncomfortable. When they entered it didn’t hurt, but once they were inside it felt like they were poking him. He definitely wasn’t loose enough, his whole abdomen felt tight with fear. He couldn’t focus on the pleasure much and was more often letting out uncomfortable groans than pleasurable ones.

Crüe was trying not to panic, but he could see the Slayer wasn’t exactly enjoying it. He went to pull out, but the Slayer shook his head, insisting he was fine, so he awkwardly thrusted extremely slowly. He felt embarrassed more than anything and the stifling heat of the room didn’t help.

After a few more slow uncomfortable thrusts, the Slayer dropped his facade, “Ok, let’s take a break.” His face relaxed once Crüe pulled out and he sat up, reaching down to rub away the bit of pain in his ass.

Crüe leaned back not really knowing what to do. “We did rush it a bit.” He gave his own thighs a gentle slap, but it sounded loud and clumsy in the room and he regretted it.

“Different position?” The Slayer sat up and wrapped his hand around the demon’s cock, absentmindedly jerking it off. “I felt like I didn’t have my legs open enough.”

The marauder blushed at how seductive the Slayer was being and nodded quickly, but by the good wraiths he was terrified… what if he wasn’t compatible with the Slayer? The thought of not being able to bang his lover absolutely terrified the demon. Of course if the Slayer was sick or simply said no that was different, but physically being unable to have sex? They carefully got into position and the demon felt a rush of worry come over him, but it was quickly quieted by the Slayer who was on all fours in front of him.

He looked over his burly shoulder, “If this doesn’t work out we can try something else. I want this as much as you.” The Slayer was a bit surprised how much communication was involved with sex and losing his virginity. He vaguely realized that he had already lost it a few minutes ago in the awkward uncomfortable position they were in and he felt dumb that he had attached so much weight to it over the years.

The Slayer who was god only knows how many eons old was finally not a virgin.

Crüe flashed him a nervous smile and nodded. He reapplied some lube, shoved a few fingers in, and then finally he lined himself up, pushing inside.

The Slayer felt the familiar feeling of being stretched apart, it felt so nice and intimate. If his whole dick was just smooth like this it probably wouldn’t be half bad. Of course the demon was only an inch in so that probably wouldn’t work well. He felt the first spike slide into him and it didn’t hurt nearly as bad in this position. It was a little awkward, but he was going to chalk that up to it being his first time and-

His entire body spasmed as the textured spike slid right over his prostate. He couldn’t make any noise beyond a strangled moan of joy.

Crüe panicked and pulled out again, sliding it right back over and making the man cry out, “Slayer are you ok?”

“Put it back.” He moaned and rambled on as Crüe nodded and slid it back in. He continued thrusting slowly and picked up the pace as the Slayer moaned out his praises. His arms quivered too much and he elected to lay down with his ass in the air as he clutched the pillow in front of him.

Each spike was just milking his sweet spot for everything it had. His brain couldn’t even think of anything besides pleasure.

The demon had a huge grin on his face. He was so terrified that they’d try a hundred different positions and none of them would work. It had happened so many times before. He rolled his head back, letting his long tongue slip out of his mouth as he tasted the smell of sex in the air.

The Slayer just melted into the bed with moans, his dick bobbing up and down with each thrust. He could even hear the bed creaking and hitting the wall. He wanted to fucking weep with joy, was this what been missing out on for millennia? He now realized why such a weight was attached to virginity, it was fun!

Crüe was gritting his teeth and struggling not to cum while his balls slapped against the man’s ass. Merely hearing the noises the Slayer was making was about to send him over the edge. His dick throbbed while inside the man and he nearly came. He wasn’t quite sure how long he lasted after that but before he knew it he felt a buildup of pressure, “I’m close.”

“Me too.” The Slayer choked out between moans. “Jerk me off, please.”

Crüe did as he was told and started stroking the man. He could feel him shake and shiver underneath him. “I’m-“ he grabbed the man’s shoulders and pulled him down onto his dick as hard as he possibly could, his belly perfectly slotting into the curve of the Slayer’s back. He faced away from the man’s shoulders not wanting to give him another love bite even though it seemed… so… tempting... He resisted the urge and as he pulled out he came, letting his dick throb against the Slayer sweet spot, making the man cum. He spasmed wildly and grabbed onto the pillows and sheets making some odd little half moans.

It may have been actually buckets of cum with how ruined the sheets looked, but the Slayer didn’t care. He turned around and grabbed Crüe, leaning against him as he panted. “Oh fuck I just remembered how hot it was.”

The cool bedroom was now hotter than the surface of the sun and so sweaty and smelly the Slayer could hardly stand it. Crüe didn’t mind he felt like a fucking stud with the Slayer fucked silly right beside him, “It smells like us.”

“It smells like our asses.” The Slayer gave the demon a little kiss, but the heat was the only thing left on his mind, “I think I might actually catch on fire though.”

For their survival, they skipped their post-sex cuddle session. They opened windows and put fans in the room as they cleaned off the sheets and themselves. The Slayer knew they should conserve water a little better, but they both got a cold shower together, enjoying the after sex hormones running through their veins.

Once they got out, the room still smelled like sex and sweat. The Slayer opened more windows and turned on more cheap fans, hoping to clear out the stank.

”That seemed to work out well.” The Slayer sat down on the cool tile of the kitchen floor and smiled at the demon. “I think I wasn’t open enough the first time, I was a bit nervous.”

Crüe sat down near him, chugging a bottle of water, “You have no idea how nervous I was.” He let out a sigh of relief, but even then his heart was still fluttering, scared of what might have happened, “Once we got going though, it sounded like you liked it.”

“Oh!” He looked down at his lap embarrassed at how… vocal he had been in his pleasure. “I suppose I was a little bit loud.”

“I love hearing you talk or moan, you have such a pretty voice.” He put his arms above his head and stretched out, a big warm grin on his face.

He smiled back at the demon. “We have officially had sex, that’s pretty cool.” He felt embarrassed as memories of all the abstinence speeches he had been given in school popped up in his mind.

“How long has it been?”

“Three months still.”

“How the fuck?” Crüe looked over confused.

“I know it feels like years, I think the coma has me confused with the time. Technically we’ve been together for six months including the time we spent in the coma.” He winked at the demon. “I love you.”

Crüe nearly tackled him in a hug.

The Slayer pushed Crüe off of him, “I’m going to catch on fire if you keep laying on me.” Despite the sun going down a while ago, the night was even more humid and muggy.

Daisy came back from the lake and recounted how miserable it was. Everyone was in a small area and had churned it up into mud water so they had to fly to the other side of the lake and they still had some people try and swim all the way across that big lake to try and get to them. Overnight even Daisy had distanced herself from her squabs, refusing to snuggle with them with how hot it was.

They all ended up sleeping in the living room, staggered around by open windows and fans.

Chapter 66: Dog Days

Notes:

TW: Animal Death (It's not too gruesome tho)

Night passed and now the sun was back up in the sky, it’s blistering heat slicing through everything. The Slayer and marauder were sitting on the couch asleep. Daisy was laying in the shade with her squabs, only occasionally moving her hand to bat away a stray fly that had slipped in through all the open windows in the apartment.

It looked like a still life painting, not even the curtains fluttered around for there was not even a breeze in the entire city.

Haru looked out of the axe with a curious gaze. He couldn’t quite see in the traditional way, but he could sense things using his connection with the marauder.

He wanted out. He felt fully charged up from being in the axe for so long, and his legs were itching to go on a walk. If he begged Crüe he’d probably get to go on a nice long walk around that lake he’d heard him talk about, but if he went alone he’d probably be able to sneak around and find some blood.

He decided to go alone and after a moment of struggle, he crawled out of the axe and slunk behind the couch to hide from the two. He looked around the apartment excited to be seeing the place without having to rely on the marauder. It was pretty, but he missed the hell caves only he and Crüe would sleep in. That made him grin. He could picture it now, him and the marauder snuggled up while the Slayer pouted outside because there wasn’t enough room. Daisy could come in and hang out with them too. She was chill.

Haru padded into the bedroom and bathroom, looking around and glaring at everything. He found what seemed to be a shirt of the Slayer’s and laid down, taking the time to shred it into ribbons.

Now, it wasn’t that he disliked the man, but Crüe having a boyfriend cut into his time for hunting for blood for him. Now sure the Slayer got him blood one time when he was tiny and pathetic, but still. He would admit to being jealous that the man was able to touch and interact with the world with such a doting look from the marauder.

Finally he got bored and slunk out an open window, walking down the fire escape and leaping the rest of the way down. Now onto the first phase of his plan, it was time to find blood.

He inhaled and tasted the scents of the city on his tongue. Asphalt and the acidic taste of human development was overpowering. He could smell water and sewage off in the distance, but he could smell what he was looking for far off in the distance.

He began padding off in the direction of the scent of blood, excited to get a taste. Though he hoped it was a relatively tame source of blood, he didn’t want to be stumbling across a murder scene.

He padded out of the alley and looked around as he stood on the sidewalk. The streets were eerily silent minus a few cicadas screaming their hearts out. Dashing across the street, he ducked into another alley. He maneuvered across the city rather easily with this technique as nearly no one was outside. Though honestly it was so hot and his form was so transparent he wouldn’t be surprised if someone mistook him for a mirage.

He was getting closer and closer to the blood and he felt his ghostly fur bristle up in excitement. He darted out from an alleyway and surprised a person on the sidewalk who yelped out in terror. He spun around in the middle of the street and bared his fangs, ready to bite and draw blood if he needed too. He didn’t half too though.

A car slammed into his side and sent him flying down the road. He leapt up and darted into an alleyway under a pile of boxes to recover.

Crüe’s eyes snapped open as he was yanked out of his dreams. He had felt like he was falling and cursed his stupid brain for playing such a shitty trick on him. He slowly fell back asleep.

Haru took deep breaths hoping to keep Crüe asleep. He didn’t want the demon to worry about him. In a way it was a curse and a blessing they were connected, but now back to business.

He limped out of the boxes once a few dozen people had walked past calling out for the creature they had seen hit by the car.

“Hey doggie come here!”

“Pspspspspspsps!”

“Here boy, come here good boy!”

He was disgusted at how compassionate humans were. They had just seen a large animal get injured and didn’t think it might be pissed off enough to attack them? Stupid, stupid, stupid!

The person going, “Pspspsps,” stayed in the alley much longer than Haru was pleased about. Though it did lead to one interesting discovery.

A cat crawled up out of a dumpster and followed the person around for a bit until it was obvious the person actually didn’t have any treats. It then walked over to Haru and shoved a box aside, peeking at him inquisitively.

It was a white and brown tabby cat with a short coat. It reeked of trash and rubbish and Haru growled at it.

Before he could continue growling it slapped his nose and looked up at the window in the building above them.

He wished he could communicate with this little creature, but he sort of understood what it wanted. It wanted inside the building. Haru nodded in agreement because the stench of blood came strongest from this building.

The window was rather low to the ground compared to the other buildings, Haru could jump up and comfortably rest his paws on the outside windowsill. The window was open halfway and a grate was fitted over the open window.

The cat grabbed onto Haru and hauled itself up onto his shoulders, pawing at the grate.

Haru leaned his head down and head butted the grate, sending it falling inside the building. He leapt inside and the cat hitched a ride on his back.

The building was a sterile white with a glass case separating the back from the front of the building. Meat of every variety hung from the ceiling and laid inside the cases. It looked like a butcher shop.

The cat leapt up onto a large white freezer that was covered in reddish brownish stains. With a surprisingly expert level of maneuvering and pawing, it was able to wedge the freezer open and crawl down inside. Haru jumped inside and was pleased to find there were chunks of meat and blood covering the bottom of the freezer. He lapped the blood up and the cat nibbled the meat purring happily.

Haru gorged himself until he had to lay down in the bottom of the freezer to rest. He could probably last hours with how much he had drunk.

The cat sat beside him with its paws resting on its tail. It seemed content and would occasionally look over at Haru, purring happily.

He liked the creature and it seemed it liked him.

After a while of them resting, the freezer began to smell of rot. They both poked their heads out of the freezer and to both of their horror they spotted a man wearing a white blood splattered smock walking into the store. They both panicked and jumped out of the freezer, and dashed out the window and down the alley.

They could hear the man scream and yell at seeing his freezer open during a power outage and a heatwave. The meat was absolutely ruined.

They dashed across roads and busy streets. When the cat lagged behind, Haru would bite the creature by the scruff and carry it for a ways so they could run faster. Eventually, they found themselves near the lake, laying under a shady bush.

It was still unbearably hot, especially with both animals' fur coats that were covered in blood. Haru was trying to lick the blood off his own head, but he was unable to get a particular spot on his snout and forehead.

His cat friend walked over and began cleaning him off until it was satisfied

Haru returned the favor and plopped his big wet tongue on its head and cleaned off the blood. The cat did not enjoy it.

The creature sat down in the crook of Haru’s arm as he panted. He was tired and sort of wanted to head back to Crüe, but he wanted to bring his cat friend along. He stood but the cat refused to go, probably because the butcher would still very likely be after them.

Haru barked at the cat insisting that the butcher wouldn’t bother them.

The cat’s only response was to paw at his nose and lay back down.

He decided he could always sneak back into the butcher shop and maybe it would be a good idea to hang out with this weird little cat for a little while longer.

So that’s what they did. Midday passed and the hours of the day ticked by with them sitting in the shade together. They hunkered down when people walked past and play fought when the coast was clear.

Haru actually found himself rather enjoying the time he was spending here. He never got to relax outside of the axe and this seemed so nice. The sun felt so warm and the vibrations from the purring cat tickled his fur.

He could feel himself start to hunger again and the cat must have sensed it. It snuck off in the bushes and returned fifteen minutes later with a little mouse.

Haru licked the blood up but was unsatisfied. He watched with jealousy as the cat was able to eat up the meaty flesh.

The creature then licked its whiskers and flicked its tail towards the water.

Haru assumed it was thirsty and followed it as it walked across the trail and down to the water.

The first spot they tried to sneak down was crawling with people. So they continued down the shoreline looking for a peaceful spot free from the yelling, shrieking humans and their tiny spawn.

There were now ladders and ropes tied to trees so people could crawl down the rather tall cliffs all around the lake. The mud on the shores was churned up into the water by hundreds of little feet.

Finally, they had to walk all the way down by the waterfall to where the water churned into white frothing foam. No one was around them down here. Orange and white buoys on a rope separated the churning water from the calm water where people were swimming.

Haru felt inexplicably nervous as he watched his cat friend crawl out on a log to lap at the water. The water by shore was far too muddy to drink so it wanted to get a bit farther out to get the fresher water. It stretched its neck out and lapped at the water happily.

He watched and padded along shore, upset and whining. He wanted to yell at the cat to get back onto shore, but it wouldn’t listen to his pleas.

The cat’s back leg slipped and it nearly toppled into the water. Its whole body went under except for two little paws clutching onto the log. It popped back up and scurried onto shore, shaking off and meowing.

Haru grabbed the cat by the scruff and hauled it way up into the weeds. He barked at it, scolding the cat for doing such a dumb thing.

The cat kept shaking off and cleaning its fur off. It seemed a little concerned but rather indifferent to almost being swept away.

They sat down in a nearby bush and recovered. Haru felt sick from both running out of blood and almost witnessing his friend die. He laid down and napped with the cat once again resting right by his head.

When he woke up he could feel himself really running low on blood, but he wasn’t even concerned about that. His cat friend was gone.

He walked down to the water and looked around. There were human footprints everywhere, and long panicked claw scratches of his friend. The log was gone, seemingly wrenched from its spot in the muddy bank by human hands.

He could feel it in his heart, he knew what happened… but he wanted to confirm and find his friend.

He listened and walked down a small path on the side of the waterfall, following the sounds of a bunch of humans. He saw them at the bottom of the waterfall surrounding his friend and yelling, poking the poor curled up cat with sticks.

He charged forward and began growling and snarling, scaring off the humans. He chased them all the way up the hill and then returned to his friend's side.

He tried to nudge him awake, but his friend didn’t respond.

The cat was limp and cold.

And dead.

Chapter 67: "Enjoyment" of The Mortal Plane as an Incorporeal Being

Crüe’s eyes snapped open; he felt like he was falling again but this time it was worse. The Slayer felt him jerk awake and tried to comfort him, but he immediately silenced the man, “Haru.”

“What?” He opened up his sleepy eyes and turned to face the demon, “What’s wrong.”

A sinking feeling took him over. He felt like he was falling into an abyss, “Haru, HARU! Something’s wrong with Haru!” He scrambled off the couch and ran over to his axe, it felt like his limbs were moving in slow motion. “Haru, come out. Please tell me you didn’t sneak out.” He shook the weapon, waiting for some sign from his wolf. “Oh god!”

The Slayer’s face changed from being slightly concerned to lit up with panic as he stood up and put a hand on Crüe’s shoulder. Daisy was up and stood right beside him, “How could he sneak out I thought you needed to let him out? Is he ok? Where is he?”

Crüe was already collapsing into hysterics, “He can open the axe too, but I don’t know where he is.” The marauder made an awful noise and sank to the floor grabbing at his face and the Slayer’s leg. He could get tiny flashes of what was happening. Haru running around through woods, and maybe over rocks? He could either hear water or cars in the background, but everything was so fuzzy he didn’t know what was happening. “We gotta find him, Slayer.”

The man was panicking and his brain was still just barely waking up. He yanked the demon up and motioned for Daisy to follow. “Ok we can go down into the city and ask to see if anyone has found them. He took Crüe’s phone and gave it to Daisy. “I’ll stick with him. You fly above and try to spot him.”

“On it!” She stuffed her children in their hidey hole and took off through a window flapping her little gargoyle wings.

He manhandled Crüe through the apartment door, trying to get the emotional demon to focus. “We are gonna find him, Crüe. He’s probably just napping somewhere.”

“I can tell something is wrong. I think he’s in pain.” Crüe held the Slayer close to him as they entered the elevator. “How the hell are we gonna find him?”

“I don’t know, but I’ll tear this whole city apart to find him if I have too.” He paused for a moment as the elevator continued its descent. “He can feel heat right, he’d be hot during this heat wave?”

“Of course,” Crüe looked confused as he wiped tears out of his eyes.

He grabbed his phone and called her, “Daisy check down by the lake. Haru probably went down there to cool off.” He grabbed the demon's shoulder and they sprinted across the city.

As they got closer to the lake, Crue could see more and more flashes of Haru’s sight. Something was definitely wrong he could hear him whimpering. He reached up and put his hand on the Slayer’s, “I’m scared for him. I can hear him.”

“It’s gonna be ok. What else can you hear? Is there something in the background that might be useful?” He knew Crüe had a connection, it was just a matter of getting him to focus on something useful.

He tried to focus again. Water, he could now definitely hear water, but it didn’t help them. They knew he was somewhere by the lake- or at least heavily assumed. They were now running down the trail, the Slayer peering over the edge every few feet, trying to spot the wolf.

His phone suddenly rang out in his pocket, “Daisy did you find anything?” He could hear her land and readjust the phone before speaking.

“Come down to area below waterfall. I found him.” She shut the phone off and walked along the bank and sat beside Haru, peering at what had washed ashore.

They rushed over and cut off the trail, maneuvering down the steep slope. They both kept slipping in the mud and leaves and the saplings they grabbed onto were far too tiny to support their weight.

Crüe had stopped crying, but now felt awful. The closer he got to the bank the worse he felt. He kept grabbing onto the Slayer under the guise of support, but it was because he was terrified of what he might see.

The Slayer spotted it first, Daisy and Haru were hunched beside it peering at the creature. It was a dead tabby cat. “Poor bastard must have fallen in and drowned.” It looked rather awful. He didn’t want to upset the demon anymore, so he turned around and tried to reason with the demon to climb back up the hill and he’d get Haru, “Crüe-”

The demon saw the cat and shoved past the Slayer, running down the shore scooping up the body. He had burst into tears again and was sobbing over the little creature. He was sunk to his knees in the muddy shore, his chest soaking wet from the fur and tears running down his face. “We have to get it to a vet or something, we can't just leave it here!”

Haru was whining and leaned against the demon, Crüe pulled his wolf close and rubbed his fur roughly.

The Slayer stood halfway sunk into the mud, heat blaring down on his skin, and covered in bits of vegetation, “Crüe, it’s… it’s dead. I’m sorry.” He was no vet, but it was quite obvious the cat wasn’t in the world of the living any longer. The Slayer wasn’t a cruel creature, but the cat was simply a random feral. The sobbing and crying and panicking was scaring him more than the small corpse.

He looked for a moment like he was going to argue and anger flashed across his face, but he sunk back into tears after only a few seconds. The Slayer was right, but he wished he wasn’t.

Haru sat beside his owner trying to offer him some comfort by licking his face. That was the issue with their bond. Emotions skipped back and forth between them and they intensified with each skip. While Haru had never been in love and had no interest in ever being in love, he knew what it felt like from Crüe’s experiences; and while Crüe had never even seen this tabby cat in his entire life, he was crying over it like he was the one that napped and played in a bush with it all day long. He suddenly felt his form flicker for a moment. The blood was finally running out.

Crüe looked over at Haru absolutely terrified. “Please don’t leave me.”

The Slayer quickly wadded over to them through the mud and offered his arm to the wolf, “If you need some of my blood you can have it.” He knew he couldn’t let Crüe handle this extremely weird situation without his best friend.

The wolf ignored both of them for a second and stared at the cat, suddenly getting the best idea of his life. He refused the Slayer’s blood despite the man thrusting his big ugly veiny arm in his face (and him totally deserving to get bit). His form flickered away like a candle and all that was left was a few orange particles.

Haru didn’t know how to describe the feeling of not being rooted to the physical plane, and yet not being inside the axe quite yet. It was like he was a ghost, moving in slow motion, but he couldn’t see his limbs. Instead of possessing the axe, he focused his attention on his friend. He could feel the axe tug on him, calling him back to safety but he struggled against it. Pushing himself off the muddy ground and into an uncertain decision.

The cat jolted alive in Crüe’s arms, scaring the ever loving shit out of him. “Haru?” He cupped its wet whiskers with such care, making sure not to hurt it with his claws.

The Slayer just watched, terrified at this pet cemetery-esque scene. Haru possessed a cat?

The cat immediately started screaming and crying, trying to grab the demon. Haru was terrified and immediately regretted his decision to go inside the body. His newly stolen limbs ached and his coat was soaked to the bone. He struggled to breathe with the water in his airways and he could feel actual hunger and thirst for the first time. He was ravenous and it felt like he could drink the whole lake bone dry. Crüe and the Slayer were now rushing him up the muddy hill, but he wasn’t paying attention. He could only writhe in agony.

Haru only half remembered the rest of the day. He remembered a sterile white vet office and a plastic carrier. Now he was at home, resting on the floor. Crüe was right with him. He looked worse for wear. His eyes were dark and puffy from crying and he looked so emotionally tired he might just keel over. The minute he woke up to clung to his friend scared of everything.

Haru was letting out tiny frantic little meows and trying to hold onto the demon’s chest better. He didn’t like this whole being in the physical realm thing. Sure he could breathe better because of the vet, but they also stuck a thermometer up his butt so he wasn’t quite sure what to think of them.

The Slayer set down the cat food and all the other stuff he must have gotten from a store, “We have to give him a bath Crüe. The vet said he has fleas.”

The demon sat up a bit and looked down at Haru, “Well that won’t be so bad, baths are nice and soothing. Don’t worry Haru, I'm sure you’ll like it.”

He did not.

“JESUS CHRIST GRAB HIM!” Haru was half soaked in soapy water and was sprinting around the bathroom, evading the Slayer and Crüe’s attempts to put him back in the tub.

He knocked over shampoo bottles, both their toothbrushes, the laundry hamper, fell into the toilet, and smacked his head off the glass panes of the shower.

The Slayer lunged for the cat and missed, slipping on suds and sending him crashing headfirst into the bathroom sink. He fell to the ground cursing and clutching his head.

Crüe ran over and checked on the Slayer, “Oh god are you ok?”

The Slayer made no attempt to try and hide his pain and hissed out as he sat up. “I don’t think chasing him is getting us anywhere other than a concussion.”

“I agree.” He looked over to see Haru hunched up in a ball, wailing and making the most horrendous cat noises. “Do you think you could give me and him a moment?”

Honestly, the Slayer wasn’t sure how Crue could talk sense into the demon wolf- er… cat, but he left the bathroom to go sit outside and nurse his wounds.

“Hey, Haru.” The demon walked over and crouched down a few feet away from him. “Why did you do this?”

The cat rushed over to him and latched onto his leg, holding on for dear life. He closed his eyes and tried to explain to the demon. He did it so they could be together and so that stupid Slayer wouldn’t get all of the attention that rightfully belonged to him. He expected Crüe to yell at him, or try and explain that he wasn’t giving too much love to the Slayer, or make some stupid reasoning about the man that would only infuriate Haru even more, but he didn’t.

“I know. I’ve been ignoring you Haru, I’m sorry. Listen you can go and possess the axe again you don’t have to do this. I’ll go everyday outside the walls and get you blood. Hell, I’ll use my own.” He reached out and patted the white and brown soapy wet fur.

As good as that sounded, he hated it. He didn’t want the marauder to have to go out and put himself in harm's way to get him blood, and he was positive the butcher in the city wasn’t going to gleefully donate some blood. His friend's body would probably be able to keep him full and be able to recharge him better than the axe ever could, and it was a way to honor the little cat he shared that hot summer day with. He wanted to keep the body, but he wasn’t sure about his whole bath thing.

“It’s fine baths are relaxing. I’ll get in with you. Plus you’re crawling with fleas so it will feel better once I get them off.” Crüe smiled as Haru agreed to the terms and he scooped him up and put him in the bathtub. He took his shirt off and joined the cat. He scrubbed behind Haru’s ears and all over his little face, then worked his way back, cleaning all over his little body with the flea shampoo.

He washed him off and dried him before hopping in the shower to clean the shampoo off himself. Haru sat contently outside on a towel, rolling around to dry himself off.

Crüe stepped out and dried off the mist of the shower still lingering in the air. He smiled down at Haru who was laying on his back looking stupid and pudgy. “You still have to take some medicine but we can make it tasty, ok?”

Haru nodded and rolled over, strolling over to the door and meowing at it, demanding the demon open it for him.

Crüe covered his privates and followed the cat out into the bedroom. He quickly picked out some pajamas and got dressed. He noticed one of the Slayer’s shirts was on the floor, shredded to pieces and set it up on the nightstand, making a mental note to repair it. He scooped Haru up and went to find the Slayer.

The man was holding an ice pack on the purple welt in the center of his forehead as he laid against the couch, looking deflated, but he did perk up when he saw Crüe and Haru. “Hey, you got him cleaned up!”

“Yup!” He announced proudly and set Haru down on the couch.

Daisy immediately rushed over, along with her kids to sniff at the cat and poke him, interested to examine the creature in detail now that they were out of danger.

“Should I get the dewormer stuff ready?” The Slayer asked nervously, side eyeing Haru, hoping the cat would be a little calmer.

“Oh no I can get it. You get your shower.” He leaned down and used his hands to push the man’s hair back, kissing the bruise. “Thank you.”

The man smiled and nodded before going and getting his shower.

Haru watched Crüe prepare the medicine as Daisy sniffed his head. The demon mixed some honey and a variety of things into a small bowl. He gave it to Haru and the cat gave it a cautious sniff.

Despite all the flavoring he could still smell the medicine and meowed his complaints to the demon.

Crüe diligently went back and tried mixing some more honey into the mixture. When he gave it back to Haru the cat had the same complaints.

The Slayer was finally out of the shower and walked over to the visibly stressed marauder, “He’s not taking it?”

“I promised him I’d make it so it wouldn’t taste bad, but I can’t hide the smell.” His shoulders sunk and he stared at the bowl with an upset look on his face.

“Tuna?”

His face lit up, “Ooh that might be perfect!” In an instant he was digging through the cupboard and found a little can of tuna. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to hide the smell of medicine, plus it blended in good enough with the honey he added.

Haru gobbled it down happily and was beginning to feel alot better about his decision after a bath and a full belly. He watched as the Slayer sat down on the couch with Daisy on his one side and Crüe on the other. They seemed to have a little ritual of relaxing after a long day by being close to each other— the TV wasn’t on of course, no power, but they talked and discussed for a bit— and now Haru got to be a part of this little ritual.

He stretched out his little mittens and hopped up onto the demon’s lap, purring loudly and butting his head under Crüe’s chin.

Notes:

When that seasonal depression hits just right and you have the urge to mass post fanfiction chapters.

Chapter 68: One of These Days

Crüe slowly woke up in bed to Haru’s loud purring as the cat snuggled deeper and deeper into the crook of his neck, savoring the early morning warmth.

The Slayer woke up with the cat's ass pointed right at his face, “Eww!” He rolled over away from the cat, grabbing at the blankets and stealing them from Crüe.

“Aww I know Haru. He’s a big baby.” Crüe grabbed the cat and snuggled him close whispering into his ears.

He rolled back over when he heard all that loving baby talk. “Do I still have the bruise on my head? It feels a little better at least.” He looked up at the marauder with his face half buried in the pillow.

The blood from the bruise had drifted down his face overnight leading to his still very bright purple welt and two black eyes. “It looks a little worse. I can get you a heating pad.”

The Slayer went to thank the demon or even blow him a little kiss but he was interrupted by his phone ringing on his night stand. He grabbed it and groaned in agony at seeing the number, “Oh fuck! It’s Samuel!” He set the phone down he grumbled something as he grabbed his head, readying himself to talk to the robot so fucking early in the morning. He finally grabbed the phone again and answered, “What is it?”

“Well that was mean.” Samuel huffed.

The Slayer squinted his tired eyes and listened carefully. He could hear Samuel's voice twice. “Hello?” He spoke into the phone’s microphone and in the other room he could hear his voice echo clear as day. “Are you right outside the bedroom door?”

Samuel paused for a moment and sort of shifted back and forth, “Yes, but I have good reason-“

Rage twisted up through the man’s veins. Why did Samuel always wake him up so fucking early! He crawled out of bed, realizing halfway across the room that he didn’t have anything on other than underwear, but hell if it helped to damn near flash Samuel for him to stop barging into his room he’d do it! With one smooth, enraged motion he opened the door nearly snapping it off his hinges.

Samuel gasped and stood shocked, “God dammit put some clothes on!” He screeched. “And Christ, what happened to your face?!”

The Slayer didn’t realize what the big deal was until he saw a rather shocked looking Elena Richardson sitting on his couch.

She covered her face with her hands and looked away, but not before taking a quick peek. “Samuel, I told you we should have called before we went into their apartment!”

The Slayer back peddled into his room, closing the door, “Sorry Elena!” He turned around with a horrified look on his face. “Oh god dammit.”

Crüe rolled out of bed and got dressed alongside the Slayer.

Haru sat on the bed meowing quietly and pawing at the air towards Crüe. He enjoyed the demon's warmth and wanted to cling to him more.

The Slayer scooped him up with one muscular arm and walked out as Haru protested, craning his neck back to look at the demon. The man cleared his throat awkwardly, “I’m sorry about that Elena.” He set Haru down to walk around, but the cat just crawled up onto his foot and held onto his leg.

“Oh no, no, that was my bad.” She glared at Samuel, embarrassed, “Do you really just walk right on in all the time?”

“Please, he has walked right into the bedroom before!” The Slayer rolled his eyes and walked over to the kitchen, hobbling as Haru still wouldn’t get off his foot.

“Anyways,” Samuel cut both of them off, “What happened to you? What’s up with the cat?” He shifted his shoulders back and gasped, “Did you sneak outside the walls?!”

“No!” The Slayer touched his forehead and winced, wishing that Samuel would just leave so he could wallow in pain. “Also the cat is Haru now.”

Elena gave him a confused look, “What? How?”

“Honestly that’s a good question.” He plucked Haru off his foot, “A lot happened yesterday.” Samuel went to angrily bitch about him leaving the safety of the walls, but he cut him off, “All inside! I’m not lying!”

Daisy scurried out of her den just about the same time as Crüe stepped out of the bedroom.

Samuel snapped at him, “Well if you really were inside the walls all day, how did you get that bruis-“

“No,” the Slayer stopped him mid sentence with a glare and a quick lean over the counter, “It’s my turn to ask questions. Why are you here?”

“The power will be turning on in about an hour and we thought we could celebrate with you, but evidently you’re in a pissy mood.” Samuel grumbled that last part under his breath. Elena heard it and glared at Samuel.

The Slayer let out a relieved sigh, “Well that’s good. How does the power work? Is it gonna be enough?”

“Sit down and we’ll explain everything.” Samuel proceeded to talk all about the power system.

Crüe was nodding along, interested in how the humans worked their magic to get power. The Slayer listened halfheartedly, only asking questions when he was concerned about the safety of something.

The power seemed relatively clean and strong enough, but still the Slayer was nervous about it and he couldn’t quite pinpoint why. He didn’t want to admit that he could remember the last time humans had developed the “perfect” power source only to wipe themselves off the face of the planet.

They then explained what happened with Haru and the Slayer’s face. Reliving the sheer panic that was yesterday made Crüe feel sick, but he felt Haru lay against his leg and smiled.

Their conversations were interrupted by a loud zapping sound and immediately the power returned. The microwave began beeping and protesting the lack of power and the tv turned back onto the broadcast channel and a variety of small appliances chirped and chimed.

The Slayer settled them all and sat back down, waiting for the new broadcast to update them with information.

It was pretty standard broadcast stuff. Discussions about power levels, energy conservation, how much supply they had. People asking questions etc, etc.

All and all Samuel had explained all the important stuff to the Slayer already so he barely paid attention. In fact, he just focused on what had happened yesterday. Seeing Crüe that frantic was just awful. Also the demon had told him that Haru felt like he was ignored and that made him feel like shit. He wanted to do something to make it up to Haru.

Daisy interrupted his thoughts, “What will they do about monsters that live in the lava?”

The room went dead quiet and everyone turned to look at her. Elena’s eyes were bugging out of her skull. “The monsters? What do you mean?”

Daisy burst into laughter and put her hands up, “No monsters! I joke! I joke!”

Samuel leaned back against the chair he had dragged over from the kitchen table and put a hand on his forehead, “Daisy! You asshole.”

The Slayer’s heart had nearly burst. He didn’t even know what to say. The joke was such a cheap shot, but it did actually make him feel a little better. If Daisy, who had been in hell for much, much longer than he had, was joking about the primeval lava it probably wasn’t anything to worry about. “Christ, Daisy, one of these days you’re gonna give me a heart attack.”

Chapter 69: (NSFW) Lets Go for a "Walk"

Notes:

TW for smut I simply had to do it for chapter 69

A week had passed since the power returned. Haru was getting used to his weird new body, though he would scream like he was actively being murdered when he wasn’t being fed fast enough. He also found a great deal of pleasure in “accidentally” scratching the Slayer with his retractable claws. The man’s bruise on his head had healed up, and Orca and Missy were nearly the size of Haru’s new body.

Now the Slayer and Daisy were patrolling the city, popping the heads off a few imps and firing their guns every now and then. It wasn’t very interesting, but it was tiring especially because this was their fifth day in a row of work. Crue had actually decided to stay back and sit with Haru and Daisy's kids today though.

They chit-chatted a little as they walked, discussing Haru and lava and demons. “So how have the kids been?”

“Good, very good. They eat so much.” She flapped her wings and perched on his shoulders, grinning down at his helmet.

It was true he had been buying meat like crazy to keep the beasts fed. They could consume so much in a single sitting it was ridiculous. The Slayer spotted another Imp up ahead, “Daisy you wanna get this one?”

She turned and used his shoulders as a jump board, propelling herself into the air and chasing down the imp. To keep things interesting, she didn’t use her gun, and instead mauled the creature with her razorblade filled mouth. Like a homing pigeon, she returned right back to her perch on the Slayer, staining his armor with blood.

The rest of the patrol was relatively uneventful. While there were a lot more demons than his first patrol due to their not being a broadcast to scare them all away, it was still so boring the Slayer wanted to cry. When was the last time his armor was truly soaked in blood? When he actually felt like a Slayer? It made him angry and annoyed more than anything.

He also wished Vega was with him. The AI would tell him where all the demons were hiding and he got sad and once again shoved the thought to the back of his mind. Maybe he could ask Samuel to be his Vega? The robot would probably like that.

They finished up and went home with Daisy bringing back a few cuts of Imp meat for her children. The Slayer washed off and sat down beside Crüe on the couch. “How’s the goats doing?“

“Good, it's a pretty standard filler episode, just more bighorn sheep drama.” Crüe was drinking some of that blood smoothie stuff as he leaned against the man, shoving some popcorn into his face. He went down to the corner store with Haru and let him pick out his food, which the little beast was eating on the couch. “How was fighting?”

“Meh…” The Slayer paused and looked down at his lap, “Boring. I need more than a few imps to keep me interested.”

Crüe didn’t respond to that. He just gave the Slayer a sweet smile and a little kiss on the neck, before they both returned to the show.

Bedtime was the same routine every night. The Slayer and Crüe would crawl into bed, they’d snuggle close to each other in a blissful daze. Sometimes Crüe would lean in and give the Slayer a tiny little nibble on his neck or jawline. Then Haru would come in and force their heads apart and snuggle next to Crüe. If the cat was being generous he’d let them hold hands or let their legs touch, but tonight was like the last two nights. Haru walked in and smacked the Slayer right on the forehead, stealing his spot and not letting the man touch the demon at all.

Crüe told the man they should say something to the cat, but the Slayer didn’t want to upset Haru anymore. He felt bad that Haru felt like he took his place, but god between this and his severe lack of demon murdering recently, he felt defeated.

The Slayer sat on the side of the bed, his head hanging down as he contemplated sleeping on the couch. Crüe was sitting up, his head turned away from Haru, upset at the cat. “Actually we are going on a little walk, Haru. We’ll be back in a little bit.”

The cat meowed his complaints but Crüe dragged the Slayer out of the room before he could hear them.

“Oh I really don’t want to talk about Haru tonight.” The Slayer pleaded. His muscles ached and he wanted to rest, not pour out icky emotions and sort through them for the rest of the night.

The demon grabbed a towel and his belt, “Who said we were gonna be talking?” He winked at the man and pulled him in close, “We can handle him in the morning, let's go for a little ‘walk’ shall we?”

His face lit up and he happily followed the demon. Sex sounded surprisingly fantastic right now. They rushed down into the back way and looked around for a suitable place to do their deeds. There were a few rooms that split off from the hallways, but they were a little moldly smelling and some even had standing puddles of filth on the floor, but Crüe pulled him along like he knew exactly where he was going.

“Here, how’s this?” He pulled the man inside a small room about half the size of their kitchen. There were a few candles set up and even some nice pillows and blankets laid out on the floor to protect from the cold metal and flakes of rust. It wasn’t much of anything, but it was one of the best things the Slayer had ever seen.

Crüe set down the belt and towel and hurriedly lit all the candles in the room. “I just got this idea while you were out today. You’ve been working a lot and I’m sorry Haru has been an ass. I figured you needed a little relaxation.” He looked across the room at the man with the same sweet smile he had given him earlier. His fingers fidgeted with the lighter and he blushed, he wasn’t sure why he was so nervous.

The Slayer walked over and hugged him resting his head on the demon's pecs. “Perfect.” They both laid down on the sort of nest the demon had built. Even just being able to snuggle without Haru smacking their faces was fantastic. Crüe was like a drug and he missed his touch in the same frenzied way as someone trying to get another high. He gave a little grin and opened his eyes, “I’m pretty tired so I don’t know how long I’ll be able to last.”

“How about you just lay back and I use my tongue.” Crüe spoke in a smooth, sexy voice that felt like it rumbled the man’s eardrums.

He slowly laid back and felt the demon remove his pants and underwear. It did make him feel a bit lazy letting Crüe do all the work, but it just felt so, so nice.

The demon leaned down and put his hand on the underside of the Slayer thighs, moving them as he pleased. He liked feeling the strong muscles the man had. He also especially liked feeling the scars all over his body. His tongue lapped at the man’s dick and quickly trailed down his shaft and over his balls, leaving a trail of saliva. He pressed his tongue against the Slayer’s ass, burying his demonic face into his crotch.

The Slayer wasn’t expecting to be taken care of with this much fiery passion. He craned his neck to steal peaks of the marauder eating him out. Fuck he loved him so much…

The demon worked masterfully with his tongue and half charred off lips. He felt the Slayer struggle against the urge to crush his head, forcing him to be locked in, with his big beefy thighs. As much as he’d love that, he wanted full range of everything. He trailed his mouth over to the man’s buttocks and gave them a little bite, his fangs harmlessly scratching over the warm skin.

The Slayer gasped and made a noise akin to an excited moan. “Oh, god.”

Crüe blushed and let out a purr of encouragement trailing his tongue up the man’s thigh towards his bent knee and on the return back down, nibbling and biting the wet skin. “You really love that.”

Love wasn’t even a word he could use to describe the sensation he felt when the demon bit him. It was something closer to absolute raving pleasure driven madness and obsession. His shirt was already beginning to show his sweat and his chest drew in each breath more ragged and excited than the last. His hands gripped onto the blanket his body laid on as the demon continued dragging his teeth and lapping away.

Crüe continued listening to the Slayer’s moans and the way his body shifted in pleasure. He glanced over and saw his belt laying on the floor, with an elegant motion, he hooked it with his foot and pulled it close enough for his hand. “Can I use a few fingers?”

“Of course.” The Slayer moaned out. Everything below his waist had become almost blurry in his mind. The pleasure numbed all the soreness in his muscles and tiredness from fighting, it took away every bad thought and all the nervousness from his mind. He felt the demon slowly enter him with a lubed up finger, as he sucked him off.

He knew the man had to be close based on the noises he made. Crüe continued fingering him and flicked the tip of his cock with his tongue. Each movement made the Slayer hiss and clutch onto the blankets more. Crüe teased him relentlessly, pausing to nibble the tender inside of his thighs before going back to his dick.

All he wanted to do was crush the demon's head in between his thighs and force him to stop with the teasing, he was so close he could barely think, all he could whine out was a desperate little, “Crüe!”

He understood and swallowed the man’s dick as far as he could, his tongue wrapping around the rest of it. His neck muscles worked overtime and he was rewarded with the Slayer shooting upright and grabbed his horns, pulling him in.

The man’s abdomen burned for release and with that one final motion he came into the demon’s mouth. He felt like he could barely think or move. All he could focus on was how he slowly let go of the demon's horns and melted back down into the blanket pile, gasping for air. Even his limbs twitched with pleasure still ringing through them.

Crüe leaned down, slowly pulling his long tongue back inside his mouth, but not before flicking the man’s dick with his tongue one last time, cleaning the last little bead of cum off it. The Slayer spasmed and gasped again, and Crue smiled down at him. He went to speak, but decided against it. The man was so frantic and gasping the demon was concerned at first that he was sobbing. “Are you ok, Slayer? Are you crying?”

It took the man a minute to calm his panting and racing heart and by then Crüe had realized he wasn’t crying and curled up around him, slowly petting his side. He closed his eyes, his forehead wrinkling for a moment as he cleared his throat, “Thank you.”

The demon pressed his face into the nape of the man’s neck, feeling how the short hairs brushed against his chin and mutilated nose. He wanted this to last forever. He felt the man reach up and ran his fingers down the demon’s horns. Crüe kissed the man’s head, and put his hand around the back of his head, looking into his gaze with his bright red eyes. They both watched the candle lights flicker on the rusty ceiling.

Crüe’s grin only grew as he felt the Slayer’s hand sneak down and pull at his pants.

“You want me to finish you off?” The Slayer propped himself up with his hand, kissing the demon’s neck.

They both adjusted again, with Crüe leaning back against the wall and the Slayer curled around his chest. The man pulled his underwear and pants all the way down around his ankles so Crüe could bend his legs into a more comfortable, open, position.

As soon as Crüe’s cock sprung up into view, the Slayer focused on it, taking it into his hands. Just like before he was fast and strong. He brought Crüe close and quickly backed off, edging his orgasm. The demon looked over at the man, as he started back up, “You really love to torture demons.”

The man just gave a hum in response and gave him a few more quick strokes making the demon’s body fold over on itself as he went over the edge. Crüe grabbed a towel he had neatly folded nearby, coming on it to help contain the mess. The Slayer leaned down, cleaning off what was left on Crüe’s cock with his tongue.

Crüe just smiled at him and dragged him down into the covers to cuddle before they headed back to the room and Haru.

Chapter 70: An Ultra-Nightmare

Crüe’s eyes slowly creaked open. He was sitting upright against the wall of a cave. He couldn’t see an entrance, but he could see quite a few candles and torches around him.

His head was bandaged and his neck ached with sharp pains any time he tried to move. He noticed his hands were bandaged too, but they didn’t hurt that much. Well, his left one did, but it always hurt after he shattered it by punching that sentinel demon in the elevator.

Holy shit, he looked around, fighting against the pain. It was the old infirmary this was when he first woke up as a marauder. He let out a low cry. He didn’t want to have to relive the pain of his transformation in a dream, not again. “Please, I’m already a marauder. I can’t go back.” Nothing happened and he muttered to himself, cursing his mind.

A prowler walked past and looked over. Upon realizing he was awake the demon lit up a cigarette and leaned down, placing it in Crüe’s mouth before leaving and disappearing into the darkness.

He took a deep, shaky breath, inhaling the odd smelling smoke. It didn’t matter what it smelled like, he could feel the nicotine seep into his body and calm his panicked nerves.

Why was he dreaming about this? Every few years this same dream came back to haunt him. It wasn’t even that interesting. He smokes the cigarette down and spits it out all while sitting in his new body, watching candles flicker around him.

Nothing spooky happens, no life changing lesson is learned…

He just sits in the dark alone.

Maybe it’s a representation of how alone he is now that changed himself. He’s too far gone to be a sentinel, but is he far enough to become a demon? No one is like him and no one will ever be like him.

He closed his eyes and leaned back, his fresh horns clacking against the wall and sending vibrations down that hurt the sensitive flesh in his skull.

Closing his eyes seemed to help a great deal. The pain in his head and neck subsided. He could feel the cigarette shrink, the embers flaring into a mini firework of shimmering colors when he breathed.

He felt the ash fall down, but instead of landing somewhere on his lap, it landed on his lower lip. As his eyes snapped open, he realized he was laying down which immediately made him nauseous as he sat up, trying to figure out where he was.

“Jeez, don’t jump up like the house is on fire.” A lanky looking cursed prowler that was laying next to him reached over and pulled him back down onto a cushy bed.

“Marauder, remember you have three more demons you have to get through today.” A Imp tapping a pen against a clipboard scolded him. “Do you need more aphrodisiacs?”

He felt sick and couldn't shake the nausea. Now he was back in that program. What was happening?

“Marauder? Can You please hurry up?”

He looked to see they were gone; he was now in his old apartment in Immora. He was looking in the mirror of his dresser, the room shifting around him like sand.

His hands moved on their own and he watched as he took a paper out of a drawer and folded it up, slipping it into a secret compartment on his half-breastplate.

He drank a bottle of something and felt his mind slowly unweave. He kept drinking until he felt his limbs get heavy and all memory of the note faded away. With his last bit of effort he stumbled into bed, drunker than he had ever been before.

A few more jumbled bits of dreams haunted him and he couldn’t sort through them by the time they were gone. The last dream to stick was him eating honey with his siblings. They were using stirrers and spoons to ladle it out of the container, but Crüe was just eating it with his bare hands. It was all over his face and hands.

He woke up to Haru meowing.

“Crüe, what are you doing?!” The Slayer was grabbing his hands and he was trying to pull away as Haru stood on the table looking frazzled.

He was covered in honey, even his chest and legs were sticky. He had been sitting at the kitchen table eating it right out of the squeeze container, getting it everywhere. His mind just froze, confused at what was happening. “Is this a dream?”

“No!” The Slayer escorted him into the bathroom and led him into the shower, helping him to get undressed and wash himself up. When they were done, he sat him down on the bed naked, gave him a glass of water, and went to clean up the kitchen.

When the man came back in, Crüe had calmed down enough to think and talk. “What time is it?”

“Like 2 AM. Were you sleep walking?” The Slayer moved being the demon and began rubbing his back, hoping to relax him a bit.

“It was another one of those memory dream things…” he trailed off, not even sure what to say. He felt like crying but managed to work through telling the man about what had happened. “Why do they keep happening?”

“I’m sorry,” the Slayer's face fell from rage to sympathy. He just leaned in and hugged him tight. “Here lay down.”

Crüe did so and the Slayer laid beside him, with his head propped up on his hand. He rubbed the demon's chest and belly, trailing his fingers down his arms and legs then back up again.

Haru rushed over to them, hopping up on the bed and curling up beside the demon. He didn’t shove or smack the Slayer. Instead, he licked his chin and thanks for cleaning Crüe up.

“I love you.” Crüe spoke to both of them.

“I love you too and it’ll be ok, Crüe. I’m here for you.” The Slayer rubbed the demon's shoulder and caressed Haru’s head.

That made the demon feel a lot better and he drifted off to sleep.

Chapter 71: You Will Be My Vega

Another day, another walk around the perimeter hunting demons. Though today was a little bit different.

An hour before he was supposed to head out for his all day long patrol, the Slayer knocked on Samuel’s apartment door. He wasn’t exactly sure how this would go. The robot might be excited or annoyed that he would ask something so stupid. A few seconds passed and he knocked again. “Hello?”

The door opened and Samuel stood on the other side, leaning down to examine his visitor, “What do you need?”

“I wanted to ask you about something. Can I come in?” The Slayer took a half step forward, sort of forcing the robot to take a step back and let him inside. Wires and robotic parts littered the room and a bunch of open packets of… Heinz ketchup were strewn about. “What am I interrupting?”

Samuel put his large hand on his forehead and shrugged, “At this point that’s a good question. You wouldn’t know how to make a working human nose out of robot parts would you?”

“Not really my line of expertise…” The Slayer looked around more at all the sheer chaos.

“I just need some human olfactory nerves. The hell knight nervous system didn’t come with any, and my own brain won’t grow them back! It’s supposed to, but it won’t! I’ve been sniffing ketchup packets to test it out as that’s all I have on hand.” He turned around the room looking at the several apparatuses he had built. I have the air pump I need and the chamber to house the nerves.”

“I wanted to ask for your help.” The Slayer scooted some parts aside and sat down on his bed.

Samuel was aggravated and honestly didn’t want to get in on whatever hairbrained scheme the man was cooking up. “If you can help me get olfactory nerves I’ll think about helping you.” There was an awkward pause as he knelt down to face a mirror and began measuring some part and making marks on his face with a washable marker.

The Slayer tried to think of somewhere that would have olfactory nerves of all fucking things. He couldn’t exactly stop down a Walmart and get those. He got an idea, but wasn’t sure if it would work, “Did your nose have cancer?”

He wanted to smash the Slayer’s head against the wall. He wanted him out, all he wanted to do was be able to smell. His mind fixated on it. Elena couldn’t help him at the moment as she was too busy helping with the power source, and he certainly didn’t need or want the Slayer’s help. “That was the one place my cancer didn’t fucking spread too, but I don’t see how that helps. You’re a brute and I don’t need you screwing up my complicated machinery!” He was nearly shouting at the end, and whirled around to glare at the man.

He was taken aback by how angry Samuel was acting. That was usually his job. “Well, couldn't you take the old nerves from your body and use them?”

That burnt like fire on Samuel’s metal skin. It would most likely work hell, it would probably be perfect. He sort of slumped down at the desk and put his head in his hands, “Ahh Christ…”

“Are you and Elena… ok?” He was honestly concerned at how erratic the robot was acting. This wasn’t like him at all.

“Fine.” Samuel said through his strained voice. Removing his hands from his face, he propped his head up with one hand on his forehead, “Perfect. She’s taking me to a greenhouse tonight and I wanted to be able to smell the flowers.” He ran his fingers down the smooth plating and over his optic, staring off into space. He didn’t know how to put into words what he felt, and that was a first for the chatty robot.

“I have about…” the Slayer looked down at his phone, “forty five minutes till I head out with Daisy. I can help you until then.” He didn’t get a response and sat for a moment before getting up, drawing the curtain open, and opening the window.

“Thanks.” Samuel sat, tapping his metal skull. “How come Crüe hasn’t been going out with you?”

At first the Slayer wanted to lie, but he just shrugged, “He didn’t get much sleep last night.” Like clockwork every twenty minutes the demon would wake up in a panic or burst into tears while still asleep. He hadn’t even drank any alcohol which was what the Slayer thought triggered his strange sleeping episodes.

“Eww you didn’t have to give me that much detail!” Samuel hissed at the Slayer.

“No, not like that! He kept waking up having nightmares!” Rolling his eyes, the Slayer sighed and explained what had happened.

Samuel really didn’t seem to care too much, but he listened anyway and grabbed a Petri dish and some supplies, including a long curved knife. “Well, let’s go harvest some olfactory nerves.”

The Slayer tagged along wondering if he would replace his “Rip and Tear” battle cry with the much more terrifying “let’s go harvest some olfactory nerves.” The walk to the hospital was short but he could see Samuel’s steps falter as they got closer.

“So what does my body look like?”

The Slayer was confused. Samuel had already asked him this question a while ago when they were walking around the lake, “Not too bad. I don’t know what you mean?”

“Like how…” he paused, feeling his automated heart flutter, “gruesome?”

“I mean you’ve been to hell. You know the corpses that lay everywhere down there. It’s not as bad as those, but it’s also a bit unsettling.” The Slayer couldn’t find the words to describe it. He expected he’d be able to perfectly describe the morbid after so long in hell.

“Then how unsettling is it?” They turned down a hallway and before the Slayer could respond they were standing in front of the door to cold storage.

They both just sort of stared up at the sign, wanting the other one to go first. The Slayer peeked over to see Samuel just waiting. It lasted an uncomfortable amount of time before Samuel finally tapped his shoulder.

“What?”

He handed him the Petri dish and the knife. “Don’t you only have forty five minutes before you have to go. You better hurry and get them.”

“WHAT?!”

“The Olfactory nerves-“

The Slayer shoved the supplies back into Samuel, “I’m NOT cutting your corpse's head open!”

“You expect me to cut my OWN head open? Imagine how traumatizing that would be!” Samuel sputtered, offended.

“I don’t even know where they are!” The Slayer’s voice was actually picking up decibels as this argument continued and he was getting pissed.

“The nose would probably be a good place to start!” He snapped back, watching the Slayer’s face turn red from anger.

“Why are you being an asshole, again?!”

“I’m being an asshole because I don’t want to see my own corpse!” He stomped his foot down on the floor and loomed over the Slayer, “I know you don’t want anything to do with me, but for the love of all things holy help me out this one time!”

“Are you kidding me? I don’t want anything to do with you?! The whole reason I came to talk to you was so that you could be my Vega when I go out on missions!” The Slayer actually felt hurt. Sure he wasn’t about to cuddle up to Samuel and bake him a “Best Robot Man EVER!” cake but he could tolerate him and work with him!

Samuel stopped the argument and looked down at him, “Wait… you want me to be your new Vega?”

“Yeah I’m getting bored of doing exactly what ARC tells me.” Of course, he never really did that in the first place. The Slayer’s gaze flickered away from Samuel’s overly harsh optic. He also felt a little embarrassed. Vega just became his man in the chair out of his own kindness, so it felt a little odd to ask someone to do what Vega had once so willingly volunteered.

“Well thank you. I- I think I’ll take you up on that as long as I can be back before tonight.”

If it wasn’t awkward before it certainly was now. Surprisingly wholesome bro moments weren’t either of their fortes.

“What if we went in and got the nerves together?” The Slayer suggested with a sigh.

Samuel didn’t respond. They just both slowly crept towards the door and entered the cold storage. The room looked terrifying and even more so for the Slayer. He knew all the freezers contained demons and cut up bits of things.

They got closer and closer to the final freezer that seemed to emanate a ghostly, unnerving aura. The Slayer hooked his fingers under the lid, feeling the rubber seal for a moment before pulling it up.

Samuel slowly peeked over the side, his body coming into view. His… or rather, the corpse's tongue was sticking out all frozen and swollen with cancer, but other than that. It wasn’t too grisly of a sight. “Ok I just have to harvest the nerves.” He nodded his head and set down the Petri dish.

The Slayer tried to tune the next ten to fifteen minutes out of his mind. He held the door open with his shoulder and was reaching down into the freezer, holding important things and doing what Samuel instructed him to. He felt queasy and honestly didn’t know how Samuel wasn’t wigging out too.

They got it done, retrieved what they were after, and hurried back to Samuel’s room. The Slayer washed his hands in his bathroom while Samuel fiddled with the nerve samples. “They’ll need a few hours before I can use them. Are you going to head out now?”

“Yeah I don’t want to be late.” The Slayer walked out of the bathroom and craned his neck to look out the open window.

“And are you sure Crüe isn’t going with you?”

“Yes I’m positive. He just isn’t in the head space to be in combat.” The Slayer fiddled with the hem of his shirt before walking towards the door and saying his goodbyes. “I guess I’ll be hearing you in a little bit.”

Samuel watched him leave, and began setting up the equipment he needed to talk to the Slayer.

A few minutes later as the Slayer stepped outside of the city walls, his armored boot flexed as it hit the muddy, ashy ground. It had rained early in the morning and he was surprised it was still wet outside.

Daisy trotted beside him running around in the mud. She liked how squishy it felt in between her toes. It would probably be nice to make a nest out of too. She felt old thinking about such things as nest making, but for some reason the idea excited her.

Samuel’s voice crackled in through the speakers, “Alrighty, there’s a good bit of demonic activity right- here let me just put it on your hud.”

An indicator popped up and the Slayer headed off in the general direction. “Are you walking around? What am I hearing?”

“My neighbors are being noisy. I'll put myself on mute until I have something to say.” He lied as he walked down the hallways and into an elevator. He was worried about Crüe and felt like he should pay him a visit. He didn’t like when the demon wasn’t going on missions with the man. He felt like it was unsafe for the Slayer to go alone without an extra set of eyes. He supposed Daisy was good enough, but still.

Their walks were short and next thing they both knew they were at their destinations. The Slayer running up over a crater of rubble to fuck a few demons up and Samuel timidly knocking on the door, waiting for an answer like a good well behaved robot.

Crüe answered the door and just like Samuel feared he was upset and sniveling. “Sorry,” he rubbed his face, “What do you need, Sam?”

“Let me come in. Let’s put on some tea and talk.”

Ten minutes later they were both sitting on the couch, teabagging the hot water in their cups with the tea bags. Samuel was preparing some kind of articulate question to pry for details about why Crüe was acting so off, but before he could speak the demon handed him a piece of paper. He unfolded the paper and was actually surprised at what he saw. It was a family photo. A woman, a guy, and a variety of kids of all ages.

“It’s my family. I have- had six siblings. I forgot what their faces looked like. I mean I still can’t remember their names.” Crüe rubbed his head and looked over at Haru who had just leapt up on the couch, concerned. “I found it hidden in my armor this morning.”

“The Slayer left you alone to deal with all this?” Samuel was actually a bit weirded out by the fact that the Slayer was so willing to leave Crüe.

“No, I didn't tell him. I know if I did he’d be stuck to my side. I just… needed some space. I’m fine now though.” He shrugged, surprisingly not teary eyed anymore. He had already bawled his eyes out when he found it in the secret compartment on his breastplate. He wished he would have stayed up all night and never gotten that fucking dream.

Haru looked up at the marauder. He thought he had been shot the way he collapsed to his knees after finding the picture.

“I’m gonna give it to him for safekeeping when he gets back. I don’t want to see it anymore.” He took it out of Samuel’s hands and placed it facedown on the table so his parents' eyes wouldn’t keep staring into his soul, judging his demonic form.

“That’s probably a good idea.” Samuel watched the demon closely.

“Hey where’s more demons!” The Slayer’s panting voice crackled over the speakers of Samuel’s phone.

“Oh!” He made a silencing motion to Crüe, “Let me check.” He pulled out his phone and looked around. “There’s some more over to the north a bit. How’s it going?”

“Great- Daisy stop- don’t eat that corpse! We have food at home!” The phone cut out while the Slayer wrangled Daisy.

“He doesn’t know I came over here. I wouldn’t want to worry him.” The robot sighed. “You know… if you want something to take your mind off everything I could have you write a paper on your species.”

That actually perked the demon up, “Really?”

“Yeah, marauders are the only data entry we are missing in hell so far. Just jot down some notes and we can put something together.”

Chapter 72: A Testament to Humanity Preservation and Beauty

“Are you ready?” Elena tapped on Samuel’s door, dancing her fingers over the handle.

A few hours had passed since he had helped both the Slayer and Crüe. The robot was not ready. His olfactory nerves wouldn’t be usable for assembly for what looked to be another day or two. He honestly wanted to cancel, but felt too guilty now that Elena was at his door. “Oh yes, I’ll be out in a second.”

He sprayed some of the cologne she liked on himself and made sure he had no blood on his arms. He looked rather nice, but still felt like shit. He poked his head out of the door and smiled, “I regret to inform you, but I wasn’t able to get my nose to work yet tonight.”

“Oh that’s fine, I told you we can work on that sometime together. For now, let’s go enjoy the beautiful flowers.” After quickly looking both ways, she reached out and pulled him close to her.

He savored her warm touch for a moment. It also helped him calm the panic he felt about not being able to smell.

“Our cover is that we are checking on the seed vault inside the greenhouse, well… It's more of a conservatory.”

“Sounds interesting.” He gently tapped her lower back, his hands lingering before they pulled away and walked side by side down the hallway.

It actually took a decent walk through the city to get to their destination, and the closer they got the more nervous Samuel felt. As the conservatory came into sight, he felt a lump form in his mechanical throat. He began talking to try and stave off his worry, “I’m surprised it survived the invasion.”

“Oh it didn’t, but the basement was intact with all the seed samples and root bulbs so we were able to rebuild.” Her scarred face looked up at him. “We’re lucky we still have all the flowers, and bees too!” They opened the door and were hit with the warm humidity of the large greenhouse, the glass panes reflecting the last bit of the sunset down into the plants.

An ARC member with a flower symbol emblazoned on a green apron smiled at them, “Oh hello, Elena are you here for the seed vault?”

She gave them a quick flash of a smile, “Oh I was just going to give Dr. Samuel Hayden a full tour of the gardens and vault if that’s not an issue.”

They nodded and went back to watering some plants by the door, “Enjoy!”

Both of them walked off into the large sprawling forest of the conservatory.

They would bend down together to look at tiny little stalks of red flowers, admiring their little shiny petals. Samuel picked her up so she could look up at beautiful orange flowers with thick stamens and tiny little green vines all around them.

There was a little stream that ran through part of the building, soaking the plants near it. As they walked down and farther into the building, the plants began to get smaller and smaller. Whole rooms would be filled with pots of tiny new sprouts or pots that haven’t even sprouted yet.

They rested on a bench in one of the themed rooms full of cacti. Nibbling on some gummy bears Elena had brought. Samuel had to take careful minute bites as to not clog up his mouth slit and be forced to reveal under his face plate.

“Could you imagine falling into these cactuses?” She shuddered at the thought, “That was always my fear whenever I was little, and I didn’t even live somewhere with cactuses.” She mused and popped a gummy snack into her mouth.

Samuel stared at the sharp plants for a moment before he could formulate a response, “I suppose now I’d do more damage to the cacti then they would do to me.” He wondered why today of all days he was reminded of his body’s inferiority every other minute.

“Is everything ok with you?” She leaned forwards and looked at him, resting her elbows on her knees.

He wasn’t sure how to respond to that, so he did what he did best and diverted the attention. “What does it smell like in here.”

“Nothing, maybe a little bit like dirt. Cactuses don’t really smell like much.” She shrugged, and still continued to stare at him, seeking the answer to her first question. When he still refused to respond, she spoke, “Do you not like the conservatory?”

No, he liked the conservatory; he loved it. He knew from his reading that Elena as head of the biologics division had helped specifically to design this place and allocated funds to build it. As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t keep lying to her, “I’m sorry I just don’t think I was in the right headspace for a date tonight.”

She felt like she had been slapped, they both had. Slowly, they withdrew, taking up opposite sides of the bench, leaving a gap between them. “Should we talk about it?”

Samuel wanted to scurry out of the greenhouse through an open window and rush back to his room. The idea of facing all the feelings that he had built up over months was terrifying. Finally, the real Samuel— not the UAC director or the ten foot tall metal robot— the actual human inside him, under all the false layers, broke.

He cried for the first time in who knows how long, and not one little tear of worry, full on sobbing. Of course there were no tears, but he could almost imagine them running down his faceplate. He felt Elena wrap an arm around his shoulders, and hug him close, sushing the man.

It made him feel better…

“Here, let's go back to my apartment. We can take the back way out of here.” Her face was filled with nothing but concern, thinking about what might be wrong and how she could make him feel better.

Even though the walk to the conservatory was originally so long it felt like Samuel blinked his eyes and was already back at Elena’s apartment with her sitting him down on the couch, and putting on tea. He felt so weak and pathetic…

“Samuel what’s going on?” She brought him over a cup of tea and a blanket, wrapping the former around his body.

Samuel held the cup and watched the tea slosh around a bit as she sat. He was still upset but had toned it down to some light sniveling. “I apologize. This is very much unlike me.”

Elena wanted to just pry the reason he was upset out of his brain and immediately begin fixing it. The tender, quiet moments of sitting next to a sobbing person while they gathered themselves enough to talk infuriated her. “Just breathe Samuel.”

He nodded and took a tiny sip of tea, before setting it down on the table. “I saw my body today.”

She paused and leaned back into the couch cushions, placing a finger to her lips, “Oh…”

“The Slayer helped me retrieve the olfactory nerves I needed to regain my sense of smell, but I wasn’t able to get it done before we left.” He looked over at her and lightly touched her thigh right above her knee, wrapping his fingers around it to comfort himself.

“Oh Christ, Sam, I have an army of med students who would have done that for you.” Her hand moved up to her forehead, and she sighed, trying to force the imagined grisly images of that ordeal out of her head.

“It was dumb, I know.” He shrugged. “I just felt bad when I couldn’t smell the flowers and when you said about the cacti-“ He broke off into another weak cry. Here he was crying over not being able to be pricked by a fucking cactus. His past self would have been so disappointed.

Elena grabbed him and pulled him into another hug, “I'll help you work on your sense of smell, and hell, if you want a rubberized coating with a new nervous system that can feel tiny punctures I’ll help you design it.”

“I’d appreciate the help.” He nodded, “maybe not for the piercing detection, but definitely for my olfactory system.” Reaching out, he grabbed the tea again and sipped it. He did feel a little better, but at least there was some light at the end of his tunnel. Elena was a genius and she’d help him figure out whatever he needed. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, but is that it? If there’s anything else I’m here for you.” Elena was a little confused. Being a human trapped in a very not human like body must be extremely hard, but she was surprised that alone would make Samuel bawl. He was usually so well composed, and something still felt off.

“Oh I mean… that’s what I was mainly upset about.” He paused and thought for a moment, tapping his faceplate and looking up at the ceiling. “Yeah. I think that’s it.”

“Well, I’m free tomorrow so we can work on your sniffer.” She turned to him and looked up at his still thinking face, “What is it?”

“Well, the Slayer did say he wanted me to be his new Vega today, and that was rather touching, but don’t tell him of course.” He turned to her, worried that he had sealed his doom.

“This is what I’m talking about. I know you must have other stuff going on!” She gently scolded him and flashed him a grin, her lopsided face full of joy.

“And I mean I have been worried about…” he trailed off in a murmur and began looking around the room for an escape from the words he just spoke, but he decided to bite the bullet and turned back, “I’ve been worried about showing you my face.”

“Your face?” She looked at his faceplate confused. Had she not been staring at his face for the past few weeks of them dating? “Well it can’t be worse than mine if that offers you any comfort.”

He chuckled, his mechanical breath taking a moment to relax. “I have a face under my faceplate. It sounds dumb I know.” He motioned to the bolts that would reveal it. Elena slowly reached up and touched them. Samuel could feel the warmth that radiated out of her fingers. “You can open it.”

The moment was silent and almost tense as she slowly turned the bolt, lifting up his white face plate that was hinged to his forehead. It swung upwards almost like a superhero’s helmet and Samuel stared at her.

There was his usual blue optic, but it was a little bit bigger. Wires and a small bit of piping wound around everything on his face. There was a large rectangular slit near the bottom that she slowly realized was his mouth. It wasn’t humanoid, just the more inner layer of wires and optics. He wasn’t exactly the world's most handsomest man, but who was Elena to judge? “I never realized you had another face under there” Her hands reached out and touched his face, “I love you.” In reality she couldn’t care less what the robot looked like, and found it almost touching that thus was such a concern for him.

Samuel slowly put his faceplate back down, shocked that she hadn’t run away screaming, “I love you too.”

Notes:

Samuel is so stoopid. He's such a great character in 2016.

Chapter 73: Hole in A Wall

“I’m hooommee!” The Slayer stomped into their apartment and took off his helmet, looking around for Crüe. When the demon didn’t come out to him he assumed he just must have been sleeping and quietly removed his armor, setting it down in their haphazard little pile. He walked around the place, looking around. It was eerily silent.

He cracked open the door of the bedroom and peeked inside to see Crüe sitting on the side of the bed, facing away from the door. “Hey I’m home.”

Haru, Daisy, and her kids, who were all sitting by Crüe, turned around immediately to look at him, but there was a long pause before the marauder finally seemed to acknowledge his presence and nod, “Hey, Slayer.”

He walked inside, shutting the door behind him. “What happened?”

“There actually was something hidden in my chest plate... I want you to keep it. I can’t keep looking at it.” He got up and handed the Slayer the photo. All he wanted to do was hide his teary eyed face and not have the Slayer ask any questions, but his puffy eyes and hollow cheeks revealed him in an instant.

He was staring at Crüe’s face trying to think of something to say, but when he looked down the words were taken out of his mouth. Why would Crüe want him to take this? He couldn’t even get anything out before the demon hurried off into the bathroom, declaring he was going to get a bath. As much as he wanted to stop and ask Crüe, he just took the photo of his family and tucked it into the tool belt on his armor, vowing under his breath to keep it safe.

He was definitely glad that he got a shower after his mission down at the wall’s barrack locker rooms before he came home instead of in the apartment, because the marauder wasn’t coming out anytime soon. He gathered a blanket and pillow and made himself a nest on the couch, watching the open bedroom door, waiting for Crüe until he finally fell asleep.

The morning still had an oddly tense feeling lingering in the air. Crüe made toast, ate it standing at the counter, and retreated back into the room. The Slayer pretended to sleep, as he listened to the demon shuffle about. He couldn’t even fathom what Crüe was going through. A photo of his family that was right under his nose the entire time? It was heartbreaking. The Slayer couldn’t stand it any longer, he stood and walked into the bedroom. Haru was curled up next to the marauder, who was laying down, while Daisy was on the floor quietly keeping her kids occupied. He knelt down by the bed and touched Crüe’s face, watching him slowly open his eyes. “Are you gonna be ok?”

He nodded, “I’m just thinking about a lot of stuff… did you hide it?”

“It’s hidden, you won’t find it” He ran his fingers over the demon's shoulder and upper arm, trying to rub some life and joy into him. “You ok.”

Crüe thought for a moment, “Can we go somewhere today?”

The Slayer, who was willing to do anything to appease the demon, was instantly nodding his approval, “Where do you want to go?”

“I just want to get out of bed and out of the apartment.” He shrugged, “We could just walk around.”

The Slayer helped Crüe get dressed and ready, giving him little touches and glances of encouragement.

It honestly felt nice, but it wasn’t pulling Crüe out of the pit he had been placed in. He hoped the man didn’t hate him for not smiling back.

They walked outside and all around the city. It was a sunny, warm day, but it had a cool breeze that would blow through every so often. Daisy scurried along beside them. She sprinted up ahead on the sidewalk and grabbed a shiny bottle cap. Running back, she presented it to the marauder like it was a jewel. “LOOK it such a pretty… thing!”

“Oh that’s very nice Daisy but you can keep it.” He waved her away.

That did not deter her and she grabbed more and more junk to present to him.

“Ooh you wanna stop there?” The Slayer pointed at a really rundown looking restaurant. It was part of one of those mixed use buildings with a business on the bottom and apartment on top. Though the apartments above it also looked shoddy and abandoned. The Slayer could see obvious marks on the metal siding of the building that it hadn’t been rebuilt, it had survived the invasion. Which, in his opinion, gave it character.

“Is it even open?” The marauder raised a brow and gave an unsure look at the Slayer. He read the sign, “Hole in a wall, that’s a shitty name.”

“I can see people moving around through the windows.” He smiled, “It’s worth a shot.”

They walked inside and were greeted by a surprised waitress who escorted them to a table, before the Slayer could even look around. The restaurant was bustling with people and screens surrounded the wall space showing people playing all manner of sports. Surprisingly it wasn’t nearly as run down as the outside made it look.

It was almost like a sports bar, but there were a few things that set it apart. Every few feet on the walls, a giant scratch mark or scorch mark from some demon was displayed with a frame hanging around it. Some even were surrounded by photos of the restaurant’s employees standing over dead demons. Bear traps with fake demon legs and arms hung down from the ceiling and mounted over the bar was a taxidermied cacodemon.

“Holy shit this place is awesome.” The marauder was looking around with a big grin on his face. Some of it was a little off putting for a demon to see. He wasn’t quite sure what possessed the humans to taxidermize a cacodemon, but the rest of it was rather cool.

Daisy was huddled down in the booth next to the Slayer, peeking out from around his buff arms. The table right across from them had a photo of two people killing a gargoyle. She was glad she left the kids at home with Haru.

The waitress returned and gave them a tiny wave. “Hello! It’s such an honor to have you here, Slayer.” She turned and smiled at Crüe, “and you as well! Every scratch and scorch in here has a photo and a story!” She went through the standard spill and listed off a bunch of items way too fast for the Slayer to do anything other than nicely nod his head. She kept rambling on about the photos and scratches as if she expected the Slayer to get up and walk around the entire restaurant, interrupting everyone’s meals to look at the photo and notes associated with each scratch. She also invited him to look at the “historical demon invasion” photos in the office inside the kitchen, but he honestly didn’t really care and nicely let her down. Then she handed them a menu and went to cover the other tables.

Daisy licked the picture of french fries and chicken nuggets on the menu, while Crüe yelled at her and decided on some random chicken wing platter deal. The Slayer was just starting at the menu, out of his mind excited. Half this shit he hadn’t had since he left earth to go to Phobos eons ago. He wanted to try it all, but first and foremost, holy shit he wanted a burger so bad.

As the Slayer excitedly rambled on about the different food on the menu and the last time he had eaten them, the waiter took their orders and in no time they were served up.

Daisy was stuffing fries and chicken into her mouth by the fistful, making contented “whirring” noises. “Very good, good, food good very.”

After about three seconds of attempting to stay clean while eating wings, Crüe gave up and was only acting slightly more civilized than Daisy. “It’s so spicy! It reminds me of hell heart fruits! I’ll have to make you try one of those.” He glanced up from his meal and smiled at the Slayer.

The man bit into the burger and almost ascended to Urdak. It was so delicious. He wolfed it down like he had just gotten off a year long mission in hell. It only took him thirty seconds to devour the burger and he sat back happily. He went to speak, but Daisy took the opportunity to shove a French fry in his mouth, nearly making him choke.

They all left with full bellies and walked around a little more, sitting on a bench by the lake to relax. “You know, I really do like the human world.”

“It is something special.” The Slayer smiled over at Crüe. “I’m glad you like it.”

The demon’s expression changed a bit, “I’m sorry about the whole picture… mess.”

“No, you’re fine. I wanted to ask about that.” He looked around to make sure there was no one close by and put an arm around the demon. “What do you think about it?”

“I mean- oop,” Daisy hopped up on his lap and laid down beside him, resting her head on his lap and looking up at him. He smiled and for a moment he felt a tiny spark in his chest. The warmth of comradery and family. He didn’t feel nearly as lonely as when he first saw that photo, “I think I hid it originally so I wouldn’t have to see it anymore… but I didn’t have the balls to throw it out. I guess I’m right back where I started now.” Crüe continued ranting, “I hate not knowing what happened to them because there were a lot of deaths during the invasion. I’d give it a fifty-fifty chance that they are still even alive. I mean not that they’d want much to do with me even if they were alive. I doubt my dad… or my…” He hesitated and decided to just say mom, he felt like he owed her that, “mom are still alive.”

They sat in the warm sunlight, staring out at the lake, all together.

Two weeks had passed yet again. Life seemed to be flying by for the Slayer with his demon slaying job. The marauder was working on a few different hell related papers including the marauder species write up and helping the Slayer out with the murder of demons.

The higher temperatures that surrounded the city were slowly going down with each patrol. The Slayer was acting like a damn force of nature, burning a path for humanity. The city was expanding more and more, humanity’s reach being moved out a block or two every day or so.

Crue had been feeling actually pretty good about everything. He shoved the dark thoughts about his family to the back of his mind and focused on the family he had now. Warm evening air blew through the open window, brushing against his face as he began to put the finishing details on his paper. This one specifically was about marauders and the program itself. He tapped away on a computer Samuel had dropped off while drinking two delicious cups of that blood smoothie stuff while the Slayer stared at his phone.

“Ooh they just dropped it off in the lobby now!” He hurried out and returned with a bag of delicious food from that little hole in the wall diner place that had quickly become their favorite. “Oh shit.”

“What?” Crüe looked up and put his laptop aside as the Slayer sorted through the order.

“First of all it's the wrong order, and,” The man reached into the paper bag and set a spatula on the table, “I think this was an accident. I wonder if they need it?”

He sat up and grabbed it, “I’m down for a walk. We can go return it and get our order.”

Chapter 74: You Look Just Like My Bathroom Mirror

Notes:

Title of this chapter comes from Will Wood and The Tapeworms' "6up 5oh Cop-Out (Pro / Con)"

Their music is so good it heals my soul.

They calmly took a stroll out of the apartment and down to the restaurant. The sweet silence between them was only broken when they were alone on the street and the Slayer smacked Crüe’s ass with their spatula.

“They are gonna cook food with that!” The demon sputtered, and snatched it out of the man’s hand, slapping his thigh as he spun, protecting his ass.

“They’ll wash it!” He dodged again as Crüe wound back his arm. They carefully walked the rest of the way, never turning their ass to whoever was armed with the spatula, and casting narrow eyed glares at each other.

The Slayer walked inside and returned the spatula while Crüe waited, but he went in after a bit of waiting to use the restroom. Maybe the blood smoothie hadn’t been sitting right on his stomach. Ever since he drank it he was feeling a bit off, like he couldn’t get the taste out of his mouth. Which was an odd feeling to have, he loved the a
taste of the blood. He tried a few times to get Haru to drink it, but the cat acted like he had tried to poison him.

He tried not to dwell on it and used the restroom.

The Slayer was taking a few photos with some of the workers. He couldn’t prove it, but he wouldn’t be surprised if they left that spatula in the bag so he’d come down and drop by the Hole in a wall diner. Either way, he was having fun bullshitting with them.

He went to leave but was stopped by the waiter, “Oh your friend is in the bathroom. Have him come out, you two can drink for free tonight.”

The Slayer’s stomach twisted at the thought of drinking so he tried to politely decline and go see what was happening with Crüe. “No, no, I can’t tonight I have to get home.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, let me grab him and we can head home. Thanks for the offer.” He hurried off and rushed into the bathroom a bit panicked, “Crüe let's go! We’ll be here all night if we stay.”

The demon was staring at a plaque on the wall, his clawed hands touching the drywall above the tile. “What the hell..? Slayer can you see this?”

The man rushed by his side, trying desperately to get him out. It was just a scratch mark on the wall with a little mounted frame around it and a photo of a guy standing over a dead imp. “Yeah I see it, what about it?”

“It’s not an imp… species by species scratches are unique. I know that’s not an imp.” Crüe seemed upset and his voice wavered a bit.

It was five basic rather small scratches no bigger than a finger in width. “It’s probably just the wrong photo Crüe we have to get out of here they are trying to open up a bar tab. I have our food ready out there, let's go!” He gestured his whole body towards the door, ravenous for the food.

“Can you see that?”

“What?” The Slayer looked around, annoyed.

Crüe turned and pointed at the mirror, “There’s something moving in there, it keeps watching me. It’s a monster Slayer.” He looked panicked and twisted around to look over his shoulder, terrified, before quickly looking back to face the mirror. “Can you see it?”

The Slayer just paused and stared into the mirror. There was nothing there. He tried to give Crüe the benefit of the doubt, but he could see clear as day no demons or monsters. He wasn’t sure if the demon was hallucinating or if he didn’t recognize his own reflection. He grabbed Crüe and faced him away from the mirror, “Here let’s call Samuel.” His heart was skipping beats now.

Crüe started at his own reflection, horrified, “Slayer kill it, it’s a demon.”

Samuel was walking around the lake with Elena and almost didn’t answer his phone, but he decided to be safe. “What do you mean he doesn’t recognize his reflection? Are you two drunk?” Samuel put the man on speaker phone as they both stepped off the trail and huddled over, listening.

Elena listened in her face growing more concerned as the Slayer described what was happening over speaker phone.

“I’ll be over, just stay in the bathroom, don’t you dare try and walk home, just stay there.” Samuel said his goodbyes and looked up at Elena. “That doesn’t sound good.”

“Should I call an ambulance?” She questioned. “Are you sure they aren’t just drunk?”

Samuel wanted to walk over for himself, because he honestly didn’t believe they were sober. “They probably are just wasted, I can check it out first. We should get over there before they make a dumb, drunken decision.”

Crüe pulled away from the Slayer as the phone was shut off, “Look! Look at the marks! It’s not an imp!” He abandoned the unfamiliar reflection in the mirror and pointed at the wall and tapped it, accusingly. “It’s not a fucking imp, it’s not.”

The Slayer just froze, terrified. He could agree with the demon that it honestly didn’t look like an imp scratches, but was he supposed to agree with someone having a breakdown? “I guess that makes sense.” Crüe didn’t even look like Crüe; he looked panicked and sweaty. His gray skin was flushed reddish pink as he took panicked breaths.

Crüe side-eyed the mirror for a second, drawing in a gasp, before grabbing the photo of the imp that was tucked into the picture frame. “I have to find the photo that goes with this.”

“Let’s just relax. Samuel is going to come here and hang out with us. We have to stay right here though.” The Slayer held up his hands as he reasoned with the demon, trying to look as non-threatening as possible.

Crüe looked at him with an odd expression and bolted past him out the door.

The Slayer could only let out a strangled, terrified yell and sprint after him. He burst out of the bathroom, looking both ways before spotting the demon running into the employee’s only area. “GET BACK HERE!” He burst the door open and sent a waiter holding a dozen dishes flying out of the way.

Crüe was ducking and weaving in between the employees, trying not to bump into them for fear he’d lose his balance. Then, he spotted what he was after. He dove into an office and locked the door behind him.

Photos.

Photos.

Where were they?

He picked up the manager who was sitting at the desk and shook him, “Where are the photos? Where are they?!” He looked around wildly and bared his teeth, trying to get the taste out of his mouth.

“CHRIST! In the filing cabinet! Right in there!” He pointed and screamed for mercy.

As Crüe rushed over to the cabinet, opening it up and searching for the right photo, the Slayer slammed his fists against the door, shattering the skinny glass window near the handle. “CRÜE!”

The demon dumped a folder out, sorting through them, looking for what he needed to see. He needed to find it. It had to be in here. If the diner really did take photos of every scratch or the demon that did it they had to have what he needed.

The Slayer kicked the handle with his boot, putting his foot through the cheap door.

Crüe was sorting through images so fast he had to find it.

He kicked again, making the door bend.

He saw it. Right there. The photo.

The Slayer kicked through busting the door open and grabbed Crüe away from the photos. The demon’s foot slipped on the photos, hiding his photo from sight.

He twisted out of the man’s arms and punched him square in the jaw. Fighting against him as they had the first time they laid eyes on each other in the ARC complex.

The Slayer’s first thought was only sheer surprise. He had never been knocked out by a demon before. He hadn’t even hit the floor and he felt his eyes close on the way down like everything was moving in slow motion until he slammed against the floor, knocked out cold.

Crüe went back to the photos and found it again, looking at the pictures with his cold unmoving red eyes, “Where was this taken? Was it really taken in this restaurant?”

“Yes, yes, someone took a photo… in the bathroom with a phone- it’s- it’s not very good… all pixelated… so we just use an imp photo. Not to mention… it’s gory.” The manager was shaking like a leaf, his body pressed into a corner, hoping Crüe didn’t hurt him too. If the Slayer hadn’t been knocked out Crüe probably would be able to take his head clean off.

Crüe kept looking at it before slowly standing and walking away with it in hand. He walked through the kitchen and out the employees only door. Someone called his name, but he couldn’t hear. His brain felt fuzzy and he felt sick. He couldn’t breathe. He walked slowly and methodically into the bathroom and held up the photo with one hand.

With the other he sliced the drywall next to the scratch and stared at them until Samuel finally pulled him away. Then his memory faded too much for him to put together the words and places into something he could understand.

He woke up in a hospital bed once again. He was pricked with a few IVs and full of shame and guilt. Details were lost to him, but he knew he had ripped the restaurant apart and hurt the Slayer.

More importantly he had another bad dream memory thing. This time it was the worst out of all of them. It was so simple. He was eating dinner with his family before the news came out that he was only their half-brother. Everything was so normal and nice… they were so sweet. He missed his mom, and he cried.

He wondered how many of his siblings were even related to him anyways. He knew his dad cheated and his mom cheated too. The fear of not being related to his siblings at all ate away at him.

Just as he had time to lay awake and think alone when he woke up from his coma after the Icon, he had time now. He sat up in the bed, casting glances out of the window and staring down at his clawed hands. As time dragged on he became more concerned that the Slayer wasn’t coming.

When the door finally opened and the man stepped into the room, Crüe’s eyes welled up with tears like he had just laid eyes upon his knight in shining armor. “SLAYER!” He struggled to sit up and reached out to the man, “What did I do to you?”

The Slayer's face was red and bruised already. He rushed to the demon’s side and hugged him, before pulling away, “What do you remember?”

“I hurt you, I terrorized that restaurant, I had another memory dream thing about my family and-“

The Slayer cut him off, “Was it a memory, or was it a dream?”

“It was a memory.” Crüe looked at him indignantly, shocked that the Slayer would doubt him like that.

“Are you sure?” He looked at him doubtful.

Crüe snapped back at him, “I know it was a memory. Why don’t you believe me?” He laid back down and looked away, shunning the Slayer from his view as he tried to pull away from the conversation. If the man didn’t believe him then he just wanted to be miserable alone.

“Wait- Crüe.” The Slayer leaned over and looked at him, poking a curious finger in the crook between his jawline and shoulder.

The demon tensed up, protecting himself from the poke. “It was a dream about eating dinner with them. I know it’s real because it was just a few days before… all the marauder stuff happened. I remember…” he slowly dropped his words and turned back to the man, “I’m so sorry I hurt you, what happened to me?”

The Slayer slowly explained to the demon, seeing how his face filled with horror as the man told him how he got the bruise and how the marauder couldn’t even recognize his own reflection.

Crüe was crying by the end of it and the Slayer was struggling to not have his voice break as he explained, “They figured out what has been happening to you. It was the blood smoothies.” He didn’t understand the medical jargon the doctors explained, but he wished he did. “Apparently the lab that was making them was using machines that were infected with that red mold stuff. Same as that stuff we drank up in the fortress. The doctors think that’s why you had a psychotic break and why you’ve been having the weird, realistic dre- memories.”

“So it looks like my memories might all be just dreams from psycho blood juice.” He fought back tears building up in his eyes. Fuck, just when he thought he was getting somewhere. His hands balled into fists. Maybe the dream with the photograph in his breast plate was an indicator there might be something there, but how would he ever know the truth about stuff like his last name. He thought it was Umbra… he was so convinced…

They went back home an hour or so later. Crüe’s treatment was relatively easy, just flushing his body out with IV after IV which had already been done before he woke up.

Their home was swarmed by people in white PPE, taking samples off the furniture and kitchen counter. Their glasses and plates were being packed into sealed containers for any risk of contamination with the smoothies.

Daisy was petrified and was buried in the wall, hissing if anyone got too close to her or her children. Haru was also stuffed into the nest with them, helping her hiss at the intruders.

Their bedroom was safe at least and Crüe laid down, and fell asleep. The Slayer watched as they continued taking samples. Samuel wasn’t convinced the blood smoothies hadn’t been tampered with and wanted to check for any suspicious evidence. The Slayer was convinced it was the mold in the smoothies and was upset that there were a bunch of people in his apartment. He just wanted to be with Crüe and nurse his bruised, aching face.

Samuel came over once they left and stood in the doorway, “How is he?”

“Sleeping.”

He nodded and looked around, “I’ll get you new dishes and a new dishwasher.”

The Slayer looked over his shoulder, looking at the empty hole in the counter. He hadn’t even noticed. “Do you really think he dreamt up all that stuff?”

“He was high and losing his mind to a dangerous fungal based toxin he was ingesting every other day. I highly, highly doubt any of that was real even in the slightest.”

“What about the photo-“

“He got lucky once.” Samuel shook his head, “You can’t really believe he was able to ‘unlock’ his memories, right?” The robot sat down on the couch uninvited.

The Slayer felt awful. He knew the blood smoothies tasted terrible so why didn’t he say something. He could have prevented Crüe going through all this hurt and pain. He should have tossed them all out the window and stopped the demon. “I feel bad for him.”

“He punched you in the face just a little bit earlier today and knocked you out cold, might I remind you.” Samuel’s fingers drummed against his metal, making a hollow echoing noise.

“It was an accident.” The man ignored Samuel. “We were supposed to have a nice day, he was busy on his report and I wanted to do something special.”

The robot knew his place and decided not to press the issue any further, but he certainly knew if his partner punched him in the face he wouldn’t be sticking around.

“What did he find?”

“What?” Samuel was pulled out of his thoughts.

“At the restaurant? What did he end up finding?”

“Well he scratched a wall like a feral raccoon and emptied out filing cabinets worth of photos. It’s all in evidence at the police station.” He paused, “Well not the wall, but the photos he touched.”

“Was there anything weird to prove he might actually be remembering things, not dreams?” The Slayer leaned towards Samuel, wanting an answer. If he had just grabbed a photo of something stupid or irrelevant it was probably safe to say he was just imagining shit, but what if he found something… he couldn’t be that lucky twice.

“It’s a bunch of photos of dead demons. The cops will look through them. If they find anything you’ll be one of the first to know.” Samuel stuck around for a little bit afterwards discussing other small things and buying the new dishwasher he promised, saying something about the delivery on it being speedy.

As soon as he left, Doomguy sat on the couch thinking. He knew demons better than a bunch of lazy cops and military punks… What if they found something but were too stupid to look into it further? He needed to be there, but they wouldn’t let him join an investigation. He supposed he could always break in.

Chapter 75: A "Stealth" Mission

Crüe listened intently and drank some water out of a paper bowl, they really had taken every cup the men owned, dear god, “But wait when are we doing this?”

“Are you up to do it right now?” The Slayer gave him a weak smile, “Sam’s gonna be pissed as soon as he finds out so we’ll have to be fast.”

Haru was on the bed, his chest puffed out and he meowed in agreement.

Daisy stuffed her children into the den and they loudly complained they couldn’t come along. “I am very ready!“

“Actually Daisy why don’t you stay here and keep Samuel out? You aren’t very good at stealthing.” He gave her a guilty look and she pouted, sliding off the bed and making mopey noises.

“Me sad gargoyle lady.”

“Next time, Daisy, next time.” Crüe assured her. “Haru, you're staying here too.”

The cat let out a surprised yowl, shocked at the audacity of Crüe. He could expect this kind of asshole behavior from the Slayer, but not his precious Crüe! Besides, cats were stealthy, that was their whole thing!

“Come on,” the demon stood and walked out into the kitchen, throwing away the paper water bowl, “Let’s hurry and go down to the police department before Haru eats us alive.” They rushed down the building steps and over to the department. They were honestly dogshit at stealth but the hoodies and dark clothing they were adorned with helped them blend in a tiny little bit. It wasn’t too far from their house and they stood in the alleyway behind it, waiting and planning their next move.

“I say I go in while you keep guard.” The Slayer craned his neck up at an open window, gaging how far he would have to jump to scurry inside.

“How will you know what photo I found? I don’t even remember that well so how could you know?” Crüe scolded him. Not to mention he wasn’t letting the Slayer go in alone. After seeing how brutal the man could be with humans he felt like he might have to pull him off someone if they were to get in their way.

“Ok fine we go together, but I’ll go first to make sure the coast is clear.” He watched as Crüe knelt down and knitted his fingers together, making a step to help hoist the man up. It felt surprisingly intimate and he wasn’t sure why he blushed as he dragged himself up into the open window.

He reached down a hand and Crüe pulled himself up with it. They stood and dusted themselves off in the middle of the hall. They donned gloves to protect from any fingerprints. The Slayer slunk along, peering into rooms while Crüe walked along behind him way too casual for a stealth mission.

“Where would they keep evidence?” Crue wondered out loud, looking around. The police station was honestly pretty huge. Offices and long corridors sprawled down dull, authoritarian looking walls. Most of the lights were out as most of the cops had left for the night.

“I guess up there.” The Slayer pointed at a door labeled “Evidence Room.”

They creaked open the door and walked inside, coming upon a table covered in baggies of photos. There had to be hundreds, if not thousands of photos in the bags. All varying sizes and shapes from postage stamp, to as large as a poster. The Slayer closed the door behind them and the examined the bags.

“It wasn’t huge, or really tiny. It was like this big.” He made a motion with his hand indicating it was about the size of a standard photo.

“Ok good, that narrows a lot of these out.” The Slayer careful grabbed two of the bags that contained normal sized photos, before they just decided, “Fuck it,” and grabbed all the bags, just to make sure. “Ok open the door and let’s get out of here.”

Crue shifted the photos bags to one hand and grabbed the door handle slowly turning it. The door didn’t open, hell the handle didn’t even move. “Fuck.”

“Did it lock behind us?” The Slayer put his photos down and rushed over, trying to open the door. It was locked. There wasn’t even a key hole on their side of the door either. “Oh shit, Samuel is gonna murder us.”

“Should we call him before he finds out?” Crue looked around, hoping to find something to free them from their prison. There wasn’t even a vent in the room, just solid concrete walls. They were trapped, trapped.

“Let us at least try to find a way out first.” He pleaded with Crüe. They spent thirty minutes pushing crates and shelving aside to look for anything useful. They finally gave up. The Slayer sighed and leaned against a shelf full of guns and random bits of evidence. He could kick the metal door down but it would be so obvious it was him at that point he might as well have left a business card, “I’m sorry Crüe. This was dumb. Even if we are able to get out of here they probably have us on the security cams.

The demon did the same on the opposite side of the room, except he started playing with some of the bags, examining dirt and hair samples in them. He seemed particularly interested in a baggie of cocaine that he kept twirling around his fingers. “I’m just glad you were at least willing to believe me. I heard what Samuel said to you, I almost cried when you defended me.”

“No, I’m sorry I even doubted you; Samuel is annoyingly convincing.” He snorted and looked over. Crue looked so beautiful tonight. Even with how his eyes had bags under them from the stressful day. He loved the demon so much, enough to marry him on the spot.

“You know… I was thinking. Even if my last name isn’t Umbra, it’s not like my family is gonna find out and be upset, I think maybe I should just keep it. All the dreams may not be true but, at least they are something I have to remind me of my family.” His voice wavered a bit, but he cleared his throat and continued to examine the odd things on his evidence rack.

“I think that’s a great idea.” The Slayer flashed him a grin. He thought for a moment before crossing the room and sitting down next to Crüe, hugging the demon close. “I love you.” He murmured in Crüe’s ear, letting his lips brush against the side of his face.

Crüe leaned into it and reached up his hands, grabbing a fistful of the man’s shirt and holding him tightly. He kissed the man back. “You make me so happy.”

The door suddenly snapped open and unlocked with a loud click.

They snapped their heads up, being pulled out of their lovers cuddle session. They expected Samuel, but instead it was him.

“I figured you two were fuckin’ like rabbits.” The commander who Doomguy had beaten this shit out of and stole his clothes loomed in the doorway. He stood, glaring at them, a bit of red paint still stuck to his face. “You’re both gonna be in a lot of fucking trouble for this. The great Slayer trying to steal evidence for his insane demon fuck buddy… that’ll be fun when the news catches word of it.”

The Slayer just glared right back and quickly got to his feet. Bile rose in his throat. He couldn’t play innocent and if he hurt the ex-commander he’d only be delaying the inevitable of him probably spending a night in jail. He got an idea and acted on it.

He lunged and grabbed the commander, pinning him to a wall, “Delete the security camera footage for this whole compound and I won’t kill you.”

The man’s voice was strained and he tried to pry himself away from the wall and the Slayer’s beefy hands, “I know you don’t kill people! I read it in an article!”

“I’ll make an exception for your annoying ass.” His mind raced; he needed to make a threat… a good threat. He motioned for Crüe to bring over a baggie of photos and quickly grabbed the man’s hand, placing his grubby little fingerprints all over the baggies. With each stamping of his hand the Slayer hissed in his ear at how fucked he was. “Who would hire a dirty cop with a dishonorable discharge on their record?”

“You’d be surprised!” He hissed right back at the Slayer, “I still have the upper hand you’ll never get those security cameras offline you fucker!”

Crüe grinned, “Wait I’ll be right back!”

The Slayer watched him leave and stood there pinning this fucking idiot to the wall.

He returned with a baggie of cocaine. “We could drug him right?”

“NO!” He squirmed, “What the hell is wrong with you!” He grabbed at the man’s arms and swore at his face.

He played it cool, “So places will hire a dirty cop, but not a drugged up one?” But then the Slayer turned to Crüe mouth gaping open like a fish, was this motherfucker really about to drug this man? And him spraying a bit of paint was considered too cruel, what a double standard.

The demon spoke menacingly, “Where do we go to delete the footage?”

“Fuckin’ DAMMIT! It's right in that door.” He pointed to a door right behind him, cursing they were the only city utility not running on a third party to store their security records. In the age of portal travel and demons these idiots were still able to scrub data off the web no problem.

They shoved him into the room and followed, watching as he deleted everything from the entire day, and leaving them a clean slate for their escape. Crüe tossed him the baggie of coke and the man caught it with a sigh.

“Slayer, I’m gonna get you one day and show the world how much of a piece of shit you are.” The commander watched the Slayer nod barely caring and walk away holding baggies of stolen evidence that were now covered in the commander’s fingerprints.

They got to their apartment and sorted through the photos, “It’s not here.” Crüe leaned back, lighting up a cigarette. Haru tried to get a little sniff of the smoke and backed away, disgusted at the smell.

The Slayer held his head in his hands and grumbled, “Don’t smoke in the apartment.”

The demon settled for half hanging out of an open window, inhaling the sharp scent with the smells of the city. “What if I really just hallucinated everything?”

“You didn’t Crüe.” The Slayer laid down on the floor, spread out amongst thousands of photos. “I want to try the diner before we give up.”

“Tonight?”

“Tonight.”

They headed out once more, feeling a lot more defeated than before. The demon looked a lot weaker than before. It seemed like the walking was making him tired so the Slayer offered him his shoulder to lean on. The demon gratuitously took it until someone walked past and the Slayer shrugged him off.

The dinner still had its lights on despite how late it was and the duo walked inside. The restaurant was silent except for a man watching some old sport play on the tv. “What do you want here? The police already picked this place clean and said we can’t open for a few days.”

“We wanted to look through the photos you have.” The Slayer edged forwards.

He looked over his shoulder, looking the man up and down with a disinterested look. “Go ahead, just don’t make a mess.”

They walked back into the employees only area, past all the silent machinery and turned on a few lights to see. The glass window on the door was still busted, but a plastic bag had been taped over it.

They began digging through photos, shocked that the police hadn’t taken everything. It seemed like rather shitty police work on their parts but whatever.

It didn’t even take a full minute before the demon found what he was looking for.

The photo was gory as all hell as the manager had said. Leaning against the wall, the poor human that had been the recipient of the deep slice laid in a puddle of his own organs, eyes glazed. There was a creature that stood, looking back towards the camera with one clawed hand held out from its body, as if it had been disturbed half way through its killing spree.

Crüe stared at the figure until he couldn’t stand it any longer and put the photo down, letting out a weak murmuring of pain. “It’s a marauder.”

The Slayer grabbed the photo off the floor, his eyes nearly bulging out of his skull, “Is it you?!”

“No, look, he’s red.” He tapped part of the photo that showed the reddish color of the demon’s skin. “There must be more… of me.”

They walked back out, taking the photo with them, and said their goodbyes to the old man.

He stopped them before they could go, “I fixed up the wall where you scratched it up. That way no one will accuse you of killing humans or anything like that. I hid that photo from the cops too. Figured you’d know more about it than them.” His voice trailed off in a murmur as he watched the TV.

“Do you know anything more about the photo?” Crüe stepped forwards rather sheepishly.

“I took it. That’s my son it killed in the background. He helped me buy this place before the invasion.” He started up at the screen, and took a drink of beer. “The demon was young. He was scared. You can’t see it in the photo, but his eyes were just wide and panicked.” He leaned back in the chair and moved his hands, demonstrating. “He walked with a limp and after he killed my kid he stole a bunch of food. Meat mostly.”

“I’m sorry for your loss… Did he definitely look like me?” Crüe pointed towards his face.

“As soon as I saw you tagging alongside the Slayer I knew you was the same species or whatever the hell that killed my son. Plus those claw marks were exactly the same. Yours were just bigger.” The man looked over at Crüe, “I don’t hold that against you, but if you lose your mind and try to hurt my staff again I’ll have you mounted above the bar, alright?”

“Alright.” Crüe nodded and shifted in place awkwardly. “Thanks.”

The Slayer ushered the demon along, putting a hand on his shoulder and walking him out of the bar.

The walk back was silent, the elevator ride up to their floor was silent, opening the door to their apartment was sile-

“HOLY LORD ALMIGHTY FUCKING IDIOTS!” It was Samuel’s voice clear as a bell, “THEY STOLE THE FUCKING PHOTOS, POLICE EVIDENCE. ELENA I’M GOING TO HAVE A GOD DAMN PANIC ATTACK!”

The Slayer slowly closed the door, and turned to the demon, “We probably should have cleaned those up.”

Chapter 76: Keeping These Idiots in Line is Like Herding Cats

They debated for a few moments if they should walk inside or move to a different country for a few years and wait for Samuel to relax. Alas, they decided to do the right thing and walked inside looking like two guilty idiots, giving Samuel puppy dogs eyes and the whole shebang.

Elena was there as she had been expecting to hook up their new dishwasher, but now she had her tools on the floor, staring at the two men. “Please tell me this isn’t what it looks like.”

The Slayer stepped forwards, closing the door behind the demon, “I mean to me it doesn’t really look that bad. Do you agree?”

The marauder nodded, “Yeah pretty normal.”

Samuel just let out a noise of unholy rage. He was so angry he couldn’t even process it. His hands covered his face as he hissed before he erupted in a shouting fit and nearly punched a hole right through the wall, “YOU FUCKING IDIOTS!”

The Slayer gave an exaggerated shrug, “We aren’t gonna get caught! We-“ He paused… they had threatened to kill a police officer and forced him to delete security camera footage and put his fingerprints all over the bags… oh and threatened to drug him…

Samuel glared at him, pulling his fist out of the wall in a mechanical, terrifying way, “What did you do?”

“Well not anything bad.” Crüe assured both him and Elena, nodding his head as if that was convincing anyone.

“The cop ended up agreeing with us that we should take the photos! He gave them to us willingly!” The Slayer stretched the truth a wee little bit.

Samuel groaned, “Did he actually?”

“Yes.” Crüe lied through his teeth.

Elena finally spoke up, “You have to return these you realize and you’re damn lucky the cops let you take these.”

The Slayer nodded and walked over, picking up the photos and putting them back in their baggies. “I can walk back down and return them, that’s fine.” He decided to not tell Samuel about the photo that actually found, “Too bad we couldn’t find the photo in here.”

Samuel bit back a rude remark, “You can continue your own investigation without using police evidence.”

Crüe and the Slayer rushed the photos back down to the police station, tossing them up into the open window before rushing back home. The commander peeked out and gave them the bird. The Slayer returned the gesture two fold and Crüe dragged him away.

Elena had finished installing their dishwasher. They were all sitting down at the kitchen table, glaring at one another.

Samuel turned to the side, pointing a rather accusing rubber finger at Crüe, “What’s that?”

“Nothing!” The demon wasn’t even sure what the robot was talking about until he saw the photo was ever so slightly sticking out of his pocket. Before he could tuck it back in, Samuel snatched it.

The Slayer stood up, ready to defend Crüe and Elena stood up ready to beat the shit out of the Slayer if he tried to attack Samuel. Daisy let out a low growl from the corner of the room, sounding like some kind of satanic motor trying to start up.

“Oh you actually did find something…” Samuel examined the photo. He was annoyed as any scientist would be that their hypothesis was off. Crüe actually had something to his raving, maniac-like dreams. “Who is this guy?”

“I don’t know. I was told I was the only marauder to survive.” Crüe looked nervous, “I swear I’ve never killed a human.” He turned his head around the table but he intended it towards the Slayer.

The Slayer and Elena slowly sunk back down in their seats, relaxing. She examined the photo and nodded along as the Slayer and Crüe explained. Samuel wasn’t convinced that Crüe wasn’t crazy, but now he was curious.

When they left the two had never felt more relieved. They crawled into bed and slept.

Chapter 77: A Devoted Brother

Staring into the room was akin to staring at shadows layered on shadows, nothing was visible and yet everything looked like monsters.

Until one monster finally pierced the veil of blackness and stepped forwards. “So we’ve failed?”

Despite the crushing pain of old age tempting the man to rest he forced his robotic augmentations to make him stand and walk forwards into the room. With each movement his fresh augmentations dug into his skin, dripping blood on the floor. “Yes, but because we were fighting the wrong war. We were peasants fighting to continue the reign of our oppressor… that Khan Maykr…” he spit on the floor attempting to clean his holy mouth of such a foul word.

Suddenly the creatures hiding in the shadows swarmed forwards. Everything from Imps to Barons emerged and stared at the man before them.

The first speaker stepped farther out into the light, his four pitch black horns and red skin were illuminated, but he was no imp; he was a marauder. Everything about his presence radiated power, especially his fierce iridescent green eyes. “Hell is fractured now and we need someone to lead us, Deag Ranak.”

The old priest nodded, ignoring the pain radiating throughout his body. For he could not falter among this den of wolves. “I’ve taken to my studies and work. I am no longer a leader or even a priest.”

“But you are a coward. How come you survived the Slayer but the other priests did not?” A baron leaned forwards, but not yet out of the shadows. Her deep voice booming through the room.

“I sent a robotic decoy down to take my place. I was wise, my colleagues were idiots!” He swung his arm in defense and let out a growl, “Faking my death was one of the only good things that happened to this cause in the past six months!”

More and more demons were emerging, the shadows were pushed back by their glowing eyes. Everything was fixated on the Deag, licking their lips at the opportunity for a meal.

“I was able to crawl out from under the Khan’s control long before you and study whatever I pleased. I now understand the intricacies of hell!” He hissed back at them and clutched onto his staff. The pain of moving began to cloud his vision.

“Then oh great wise one who shall lead us?” The marauder rolled his green eyes and activated his axe, swinging it towards the Deag, “We are waiting.”

“Why don’t you go join the swarm of demons in Nekravol! They have no leader other than their primal desires. I’m sure you’d fit right in there!” In an instant the demon’s axe was inches away from his neck. He gulped and stared into the green argent energy it had been imbued with.

Demons all around the room leapt up like hungry dogs, hoping to be the first to taste his blood. They had long exhausted their supplies of pinky meat and had turned to more questionable sources so eating a man would be nothing worse than eating a brother in arms.

The baron’s voice stopped them, “Stop, Devo.”

The marauder looked up to the baron, immediately lowering his axe. “Why?”

“Perhaps the Deag has a point. There are no leaders in hell anymore. We could either fall in with a scummy hell lord or try and do something different.” The baron stepped out into the light. Her face was lit up by the hellish light. Scars upon scars, layered what was left of her mangled face. One of her horns had been broken and grown back into two different split, mangled spikes. “Kill him and we lose the knowledge he has within his slimy delicious gooey brain.”

Devo felt hesitancy in every bone of his body. He wanted to kill him and move on, but he trusted the baron with his life. She was far smarter than him. “Fine, Bell.”

“Ha ha…” Bell’s voice echoed around the room yet again, “Now Deag we would love to see those piles of research.”

He led the horde of demons deep into his lair, hissing at them not to touch any of his artifacts. His lair was the crumbling ruins of some hell citadel, but it didn’t mean they could mess it all up. Despite the crumbling exterior and interior, the true jewel of the place was the basement. A long spiral staircase led downwards into a massive library. It was like a maze and a grand open hall all at once.

“Whoa…” Devo grabbed the handrail and looked out over the grand room. It was odd to see something so beautiful and fragile in a place like hell.

A hell knight shoved him forwards, down the staircase, “Keep moving.” He growled.

Devo swung around and punched the knight square in the jaw. His temper was short, nearly nonexistent. If that motherfucker dared to touch him he would carve out his heart!

Before the knight could punch him back, Bell lifted him up beyond the demon's grasp as though he was a little kitten. “Devo, behave yourself!”

He swung his arms, trying to punch his attacker, “No, he SHOVED ME FIRST!”

She rolled her eyes and tossed him back down to the hell knight so they could duke it out on the staircase. Bell ignored their petty squabble and continued walking down with Deag Ranak. Devo brutally beating someone for being pissy to him was a fairly normal occurrence for him and most of hell’s citizens to be honest. She could understand, the demon was young and hot headed with more than enough trauma and issues.

The priest huffed as the sounds of Devo punching the hell knight and the hell knight punching back filled the stairwell. Other demons filled past them as the knight smashed Devo’s head into the railing, then Devo swiped his legs out from underneath him and began wailing on his face. They soon got tired and the hell knight limped off, defeated. Devo walked down and held his now bleeding nose.

Bell and the Deag were talking while all the other demons were pulling books from the bookshelves, examining them.

She turned her head towards the demon, “Are you done?”

“Yes,” he grumbled and wiped away the blood on his face, it had even splashed up on his horns. He knew he needed to get a better hold on his temper, but that hell knight got what was coming to him, “What about the heaping amounts of research?”

“Oh it’s here all right…” she looked around at the papers the Deag had deemed most interesting, but they were lackluster at best. Three inch thick documents detailing the composition of hell’s soils, a hundred papers about the different building materials of hell through the eons with references and citations, and a guide to hell’s flora. “I mean it’s all very detailed, but Deag Ranak is there anything that might be of interest to us?”

The old man tapped his chin, “Well… there’s a large section on governments down the third hall to the left, that might help you with your leadership issue.”

She nodded, definitely interested in that. “Devo keep yourself in check while I go check that out.”

“Oh I have something for him as well!” He turned around and dug through a mound of his own papers, pulling out a stack as thick as a Bell’s massive fist. Thrusting them in Devo’s face, he grinned, “How could I forget? You’ll love this!”

Notes:

THE PLOT THICKENS BITCHES

Chapter 78: A Hateful Son

Devo wanted to slap the Priest as he was certain it would be a guide on controlling emotions or some other thing that would make him irrationally angry, but it wasn’t. The demon’s face went from confusion to an odd expression, “What..?” The more he read the more his heart clenched, only a few sentences in and his world changed forever. Devo’s breath hitched as he read on. “I can’t… he’s…”

Bell walked by his side, placing her baron sized palm on his shoulder, reading the paper. It’s words were something she’d never thought she’d see, “Are you going to be ok?”

‘MARAUDER participant: Crüe
Status: survived’

There on the paper the name Crüe stood, it was his older brother, who had been lost to him for eons.

The Deag stepped forwards, “The genetic research involving that discovery was absolutely thrilling! I was waist deep in hell’s genealogic scrolls figuring out that mystery!” He motioned around, “Why wouldn’t you be happy?”

He was desperately trying to calm himself despite the waves of panic and pain washing over him, “Why didn’t you tell me if you knew? Didn’t you think I’d want to know about something like that?! I’ve seen you a thousand times when I was training and in temples! Why wouldn’t you tell me?”

Deag Ranak shrugged, realizing perhaps he should have told the demon before, but he wasn’t particularly concerned at that, “It was standard protocol at the time the participants were made to be separate from each other.”

It felt like barbed wire was slowly wrapping around his throat. The unfamiliar pain of holding back tears welled up in him. He had never felt the wind be taken out of him so fast, he went from being his usual hot head self to broken down to little choked out sobs. “Is he ok?”

There was a long pause before the Deag spoke again, “He hasn’t been seen for nearly four months. After his battalion was killed he was seen a few more times in Taras Nabad then he… disappeared.” He glanced at the latest report and his face fell, “Oh… in his last sighting…”

Devo felt the baron’s rough palm pat his shoulder, trying to calm him. If anything it was angering his bruises from earlier and making him feel like he was gonna puke.

“His last sighting was with the Slayer. They were fighting and there was a great deal of blood involved. A cacodemon reported it.” He slowly put the papers down and looked over at the demon, “He might still be alive, the Slayer doesn’t have a 100% kill rate.”

It didn’t matter. Devo knew he had to be dead. Sure, occasionally the Slayer would leave behind an imp or a zombie, but never a heavy or super heavy. His knees nearly gave out and he felt Bell support him, unable to cry but unable to pretend like nothing was wrong. The joy of knowing his brother didn’t die years ago was immediately dashed to pieces by his new death.

“Devo do not anguish.” The baron forced him up and made him stand, “Crüe wouldn’t want that for you. Your brother would want you to celebrate his life.”

He had such a blank, gutted look on his face, staring at the documents that had his brother’s name written in bold lettering. “I struggle to remember anything except his name and a few tiny memories. Most of my memories disappeared after I transformed. I know he would defend me when my older sisters would pick on me. I remember that…”

Bell felt deep pity for the marauder. That was a path in life that was hard to walk. Devo had told her stories about his brother Crüe. He seemed like a sweet older brother. It was a shame he was gone so young, only a few hundred years old.

Ranak grabbed another stack of papers and handed them to the demon. “There’s one more as well.”

Scanning them he read the name Haine Impie but everything else was just medical jargon he couldn’t understand. “Who is this Haine guy?”

“Possibly,” he tapped at the papers sitting on his desk, “Very possibly, Crüe’s son. I believe that the reason only three people survived the program was a genetic component.”

A flicker of hope bloomed through Devo. “I have to find him. Where is he?”

He scanned through the papers, “Hmm… Ahh here we are!” Tapping the paper, he exclaimed, “He submitted a location report a week ago from the Blood Swamps.”

The marauder turned to Bell, “We have to go there. Please, can you convince the battalion to go there? They listen to you.”

She nodded, “I don’t see why not. Plus, the Blood Swamps are a safe haven; there shouldn’t be too many hell lords.”

As Bell and Ranak discussed his other discoveries, Devo looked down at his deactivated axe. The Slayer killed his brother. He would seek revenge no matter the cost. He knew the beast of the man had bested his brother, but there was no way he’d be able to fight two marauders.

“I am coming for you Slayer and you will feel my revenge.”

A few days went past, Bell, Devo, and the horde staying in the library. She was extensively studying a plethora of books about governments while Ranak guided her studies and took notes.

Devo, on the other hand, found a nearly untouched corner of the library in some boring section, shoved all the books out of the bottom of a bookshelf, and laid down in it for hours at a time, staring up at the wooden shelf above him. The Deag had given him a picture of Crüe. It was a curse and a blessing to see his brother. The photo was a before and after shot of the transformation. He could see his brother, a young sentinel with a dark scowl on his face. His tan skin reflected the bright lights of whatever sentinel building he was in. Then, he saw a tired, battered demon. His horns freshly grown with a big toothy grin on his face.

Tears began running down his face again. When he first saw the photos he remembered nearly everything. What he was like, that last final argument with mom, and how father weeped when they couldn’t find where he had gone. He remembered looking in the woods for Crüe months after the rest of his family had given up, calling out his name like he was a lost sheep. The more he remembered the worst his spiral got. How the family was never the same, how father started drinking again, and how mom packed her bags and moved out one day when he was out in the woods. She took everyone but him and father.

It didn’t take him long to figure out what had happened. Father got plastered an hour later and explained everything in a drunken slurry of words. He cheated and Crüe was the result. Mom was furious but loved the kid. Then he cheated again with the same woman and Devo was the result. Mom stuck with him yet again. At the very end of explaining Father cursed him out and said it was Devo’s and Crüe’s fault their marriage fell apart.

Looking back he realized the rest were her kids, who she loved, Devo presumed. He was the ugly little bastard. In the middle of the night a representative from the marauder program came to his door and offered him a chance of freedom and power and a family. He couldn’t say no.

And now a few decades later he was here, crying under a dusty old bookshelf. He knew he needed to get up soon and get something to drink. His throat was burning after all that sobbing, but he decided to bury his head into the crook of his arm and try to sleep.

It was a struggle to drift off. Everything made him think about Crüe and the family he left behind. He wondered if they were even still alive. All he knew was Crüe’s possible son was in the blood swamps waiting for them. That brought him a sliver of joy.

Before he could fall back into his thoughts he heard something sit down outside of his bookshelf den. He turned to see it was Bell. “Hey.”

“Here.” She handed him a small cup with some watered down blood brew.

He sat up and scooted out of his little cubby, grabbing the cup and drinking it. Blood brew was about the only thing in hell that was safe to drink. A little bit of bog water and powdered blood brought to a boil. It was surprisingly tasty. “You didn’t have to.”

“I haven’t seen you for nearly two days, Devo. I tried to give you some space but I wanted to make sure you were ok.” She leaned down, her massive horned head level with the demon’s. “I’ve never seen you so… not angry.”

Words had never been his strong suit and he didn’t have much to say to that. He leaned back against the bookshelf. He could feel he was going to cry, but he didn’t want to do it in front of Bell. To prevent such an embarrassment he balled his hands into fists, letting his claws prick his skin.

“I’ve lost family before. I know… it’s tough, but I’m here for you, the horde is here for you.” She sat back against the bookshelf across from him, making sure not to lean her full muscular bulk against it or else risking tumbling down the whole library. “You could tell me about Crüe and your family if you want and I could tell you about mine.”

Devo smiled at the trade. It was a common one in hell. Demons were obsessed with legacies and sharing stories of loved ones to help them be remembered and loved beyond the grave. “I’d like that. He was my older brother and there were a lot of girls in our house so me and him would always stand up for each other or prank them. We were always poor as shit so he taught me and the girls how to beat richer kids up and steal their candy when we went into town. In fact we fought people a lot. We were awful children, all of us.”

“So Crüe gave you a fiery temper and taught you how to beat children up?” She grinned at him.

He laughed, “We were just children too.”

“How many of you were there?” She smiled, “It sounds like a big family.”

“Uhh…” he thought for a moment, “There were three boys and four girls I think… Yeah, cause my mom took five kids when she left. Crüe was gone already and she left me.”

“Oh I’m so sorry.” Bell’s face fell, “She left you?”

Devo briefly explained what had happened to her. With each word he felt his throat burn with the familiar pain of being close to tears. When he finished Bell reached across the aisle and dragged him over in a terrifying but kind gesture, hugging the demon. “I’m sorry, Devo.”

He felt a little ashamed to be hugging Bell. In his mind he knew that he should be strong enough to take everything on his own, but his heart accepted the warmth. “I don’t blame her. I wasn’t her kid. Besides, a single mom running from a shitty husband trying to support six kids is a pipe dream.” He supposed five was equally as insane, but maybe a little less so.

Bell couldn’t imagine someone leaving Devo, especially back then when he was a teen, just barely an adult. Even now she still saw him as a child. In a way she thought there might be another part of the story; a mother leaving her child was nearly too much for Bell to bear, but there was no way to ever know.

“What about you?” He slowly pulled away from her hug and sat down beside her.

“They were my kids.” She paused, and caught her breath, “It was a territory dispute with a local hell lord. He killed them all, including my two husbands. When I was away.” Bell narrowed her eyes, “I got revenge and killed him an hour later but it didn’t help, nothing did. I started killing sentinels a lot and that didn’t help. Sometimes I’d go and kill other smaller hell lords for sport, just because I hated that title so damn much.”

“Is that how you hurt your horn?” He looked up at her.

She laughed and grinned, “Ha! I wiped the floor with that hell lord and ground his body into paste, desecrating his legacy like an animal! He couldn’t touch me, but he could put a bomb in my den.” Her voice went somber again then she tapped her one damaged mangled horn, “What stopped my rage was a sentinel man. He gave me this wound and I gave him one to match. We fought for so long and so hard I thought my arms were going to fall off. Then we just agreed to tie and walked off.”

“If you gave a tiny sentinel a scar like yours, his whole face probably tore off!” He chuckled. Her scar was quite brutal, and he wondered how a sentinel could have even sliced her thick hide that well.

“It damn near did!” She smiled down at Devo, and they sat in silence, listening to the horde discuss books from far away. It was peaceful, but Bell broke the relaxation, “You and the horde are like family to me, you know?”

His usual asshole self shined through for a moment and he rolled his eyes, “Why? I’m a short tempered bastard.” He looked up at her confused, but that did explain the hug from earlier.

“Because I am also a short tempered bastard, and I care about you.” She flicked his head nearly giving him whiplash, “Now drink your blood brew I brought it all the way over here.”

He picked it up and finished the rest as they discussed plans for heading to the blood swamps.

Chapter 79: And One Very Conflicted Sentinel

A week had passed after the chaos of Crüe’s discovery. While he wasn’t quite back to normal he was feeling a lot better. He wasn’t having anymore dreams which was a curse and a blessing. He missed seeing his family, even if it was a mirror house version of the past, exaggerating their disagreements and hate for each other. The photo he had found was treated the same way as the photo of his family. It was given to the Slayer with the strict orders for him to never see it again. He refused to believe it was another marauder. It didn’t make sense.

Honestly as much as the Slayer helped him, he didn’t think he could have gotten through without Haru. The little cat had been glued to his side, always making sure he was ok.

He was now on the couch, tapping away at his little research report on marauders. It was absolutely fascinating to see where he had written it while drinking the blood smoothies. His grammar was off and his thoughts trailed in cyclical, endless run-ons. He said the same thing a million times and could barely understand how he was even functioning normally with his thoughts so wild. It concerned him… how could he have been so blind to how it was affecting him… why didn’t it make him physically ill? Why did it just give him those awful dreams?

“Meow?”

He was yanked out of his thoughts by Haru pawing at him. He supposed his spiral was also picked up by the connection the cat had to him. “Sorry I’ll stop.”

“What?” The Slayer looked up from cleaning dishes. He didn’t feel like running the new dishwasher. It had too many buttons besides there were only a few plates and cups.

“Nothing, I was just feeling a little bit sad and Haru yelled at me.” He leaned over the couch and smiled at his lover.

The Slayer finished up and walked over to the couch, kissing the demon and patting Haru’s head. “Well we have the rest of the night to relax.”

“I fixed up all the grammar.” He motioned to his computer screen, “It’s much better now.”

“So you just have to send it to Samuel! That’s great!” He wrapped an arm around the demon.

Crüe paused and sort of shifted in his seat. “One more thing… I have to sign my name. Do you think I should sign my name Crüe or Crüe Umbra?”

“Well, didn’t you say you were gonna keep Umbra as your last name?”

“I know but now I’m doubting myself.” He set the laptop down on the coffee table with an exaggerated sigh, and fell back into the couch cushions with an equally as exaggerated motion.

“I say use Umbra. You could always change it right?” His finger danced over the demon’s taught muscles. The poor thing was actually really stressed. He felt bad.

He turned away from the touch and looked out the window, “I know I shouldn’t be sad about losing them anymore… but sometimes like now it just bubbles up and I miss them.”

Haru slapped the demon’s leg again, scolding him. He still had a family with the Slayer and that rat demon creature Daisy. He needed to start focusing on the family he did still have rather than an abusive family from the past. Even if the love was there it was nearly impossible to separate it from all the awful shit that happened-

Crüe turned to Haru, interrupting his scolding through their connection, “Sometimes I just need to be sad!”

The cat retorted right back yelling more about how he needed to put all the stuff about his family away until he was either in a better space or found more information. Hell, the demon would spiral every ten or twenty minutes. It was getting ridiculous!

The Slayer couldn’t hear the connection Haru had with Crüe so he awkwardly sat there listening to Crüe’s responses. Eventually the cat gave up and walked away to pout in a corner.
“Do you ever think you might look back at stuff about your family with rose colored glasses?” The Slayer just wanted to cuddle tonight so he treaded carefully.

Crüe went to defend his family against the Slayer but he couldn’t even get past the first word. All his nice memories of stealing candies in town, family dinners… they all ended in screaming matches between his father and some other poor soul in the family. “Yes.”

“Like you can be sad, that's normal, everyone would feel that way, but,” he closed his eyes and paused before speaking, “I just feel like you’re obsessing over this an unhealthy amount. I mean do you want to find them, or at least try? I’m just worried about you Crüe.”

“What is there to be worried about? One day, yes, I want to try and find them. If they are dead it would give me some closure and if they are still alive…” He trailed off; he wasn't sure what they would do if they were alive.

“I mean Crüe…” the Slayer felt shitty for saying this, “you aren’t the same Crüe that left them. What if they don’t realize it’s you? What if they realize it’s you and reject you still?”

He felt the faintest flash of anger towards the Slayer. Then nothing. If they didn’t kill him on sight, they’d never accept him back after this transformation. He thought for a long time. “You’re right…”

Even if he didn’t remember all the details of what drove him to leave in the end he left his family for a reason… He grabbed his laptop off the coffee table and deleted “Umbra” off his name. The tiny four letter name “Crüe” stood alone on the page, but it made him feel free.

He flipped back and forth between missing and hating his family, between using and removing his last name… but this time felt permanent. He sent it to Samuel before he could change his “permanent” decision. He leaned against the Slayer and kissed his cheek, his horns brushing against the man’s hair. “I love you. I’m so sorry about all of this-”

“Crüe don’t apologize.” The Slayer laid down on the couch and pulled the demon on top of him, hugging him. “You’re going through a lot. Don’t worry it’s gonna be ok.”

The demon murmured softly into his ear, “Sometimes I want things to go back to how they were when we were in the fortress. It seemed so simple and perfect back then. Everything was so mysterious and new, and we didn’t have all these problems.”

“Mhm, but remember the looming feeling of having to fight the icon?” The Slayer kissed the small spikes on the demon's head, “Or the poisoned wine?”

He groaned, “I do have an issue with remembering the past with rose colored glasses, don’t I?”

The Slayer laughed and smiled down at him. “You know… wine doesn’t sound half bad right now.”

The demon practically leapt up, “Ooh I like that line of thinking!” He flashed a tooth grin at the Slayer, “And this time we won’t start attacking each other!”

“Hopefully!” The man sat up and pulled the demon in for one more kiss, “We probably have to go down to the shops, hopefully they are still open.”

They rushed down to a liquor store and grabbed a few bottles of wine and beer and a variety of other alcohols. It was much more expensive than the Slayer anticipated, but he was just happy to see Crüe smiling. They scurried home like squirrels with their new stash and put most of it in a cabinet, except one bottle and two empty wine glasses, taking them into the bedroom.

Crüe pried the cork out with his teeth, lapping up the few drops of wine on the rim of the bottle that popped out with it. The drinks were poured and they sat on the floor by the window, letting in the cool night air and lighting up their faces with moon light. They drank from each other’s cup, letting their lips be drawn to one another when they weren't guzzling in the drinks.

Warm fuzzy feelings filled the Slayer’s chest, but it wasn’t from the wine. He wanted the marauder in every explicit way he could think of.

The demon reached down and cupped the man’s face, using his thumb to rub the stubble on his chin. He was memorized by it as he had never really gotten to look at facial hair up close. “It’s prickly…” he whispered.

The Slayer looked up at the demon, their faces only inches away. “Here I have an idea.”

Crüe pulled him in for a kiss, “What is it my Slayer?”

“Take your clothes off.”

Chapter 80: (NSFW) Clean Shaven

Notes:

TW: smut etc you know the drill

He yanked the now naked demon into the bathroom and pulled him in for another kiss, “Didn’t you say you wanted to learn how to shave?” He picked the demon up, making him let out a little gasp of surprise. The Slayer set him down on the sink countertop, and got the shaving cream and razors out.

Crüe’s heart was skipping beats. Sure, he knew the Slayer loved him, but him getting to be the little one that got picked up and moved around and getting shown this much affection… his heart was melting. The Slayer instructed him how the whole shaving thing worked, then handed him a razor and bared his throat to the demon.

It was the ultimate act of trust.

It went painfully slow at first. The demon took a few minutes to even apply the shaving cream to the Slayer’s face. The man didn’t mind, he just leaned his body into the demon's warm legs, feeling the warmth radiating from his thighs.

Little by little Crüe used the razor on him, taking a little stubble off here and there as he was too afraid to do the sweeping large strokes the Slayer had instructed him to do. It was also rather dark. The only lighting in the bathroom was moonlight slipping in through the window, “Does it hurt?”

The man’s lips smiled, terrifying the demon that he would cut his delicate flesh. “No, you're doing a good job.”

The demon took an excruciatingly long time around the man’s mouth, especially that little dip that’s right below humans' noses. He then moved down to the man’s throat and was able to do some longer, sweeping slices there. He watched intently as the man washed the shaving cream off his face and dried off, revealing his clean shaven self.

The Slayer beamed at the demon, and took a little sip of wine, “Look you did great!”

Crüe hopped off the counter and kissed the man, his long tongue slipping inside his mouth chasing the aftertaste of the wine the man drank. The delicious clean smell of the shaving cream still lingered like cologne.

“I was wondering if maybe you wanted to get a bubble bath?” The man struggled to get the sentence out between kisses. He was so happy, his face was getting red with blush.

Crüe finally stopped mauling him with love and pulled back, a sly smile on his face, “Did you plan this date night?”

The Slayer was now radiating blush, “Of course not, ok maybe a bit. If I’m ever bored on patrol I think of what I want to do with you… and to you.”

The nonexistent hairs stood up on the back of the demon’s neck. He only answered the man by purring his agreement into the crook of his neck.

It only took a second and the warm bath was ready. They both hurried in and held each other close. There was something mundane about sitting in the bottom of a bathtub, staring at how the rivulets of water began overlapping and growing deeper and deeper. They both looked rather stupid sitting all hunched together and naked. In an effort to break the silence, the Slayer scooted over, leaning against the back of the tub, right by the faucet. The warm water hit his right shoulder and ran down his chest and belly, making him nearly purr with delight.

Crüe moved beside him, resting his big horned head on the man’s left side of his chest, listening to his heartbeat and absorbing the warmth. “I don’t want this to end. I want the rest of our lives to be as perfect as this moment.”

A warm hand reached out and held the back of the demon’ head, pulling him in closer. “No matter what happens I’ll always love you.” The Slayer kissed Crüe’s horns, his lips lingering a moment too long, before pulling away. “Soon we’ll have to head out and prepare to fight again.” He murmured his words, hating to hear that he couldn’t always hold his lover this close. “But at least we’ll be fighting side by side.”

Crüe nodded, his mind not wanting to think about fighting or death. He was silent as the water finally rose to a good height for the Slayer to shut it off. The surface was littered in bubbles that reflected the light of the moon. “Can you hand me my wine?”

The Slayer grabbed both of theirs off the corner of the tub, drinking them down. “We left the bottle in the bedroom. Should I go get it?” The man stared sadly at his empty cup, attempting to lick the few drops on the side in a rather inelegant way.

“No, I don't want to get too drunk. I have a little buzz right now. I feel great.” He looked up at the man, wrapping his arms around him and burrowing his face into his chest.

The Slayer held the side of the demon’s face and brought him up for a kiss. They kissed each other again and again, the Slayer pinning the demon up against the side of the bathtubs and grabbing a fist full of his horns as he continued kissing him.

Crüe let the man take control, he loved every moment. He felt so loved and wanted and cherished. He kissed back with vigor to match, practically begging the Slayer to take him into the bedroom.

They kissed until their buzzes were gone and the water’s heat faded a bit. Until finally the Slayer leaned in and whispered, “Do you want me to fuck you?”

The demon could barely contain his excitement, “Oh yes.” They practically leapt out of the tub and dried off, eyeing each other up while they did. Crüe was about to open the door to the bedroom when the Slayer stopped him and pulled him down to his height, giving him one last kiss and groping his tits. “I love you so much, Slayer.”

“I love you too Crüe, I love you with everything I got.” He pulled the demon out into the bedroom. The Slayer pushed the demon down onto the bed, stuffing a pillow under his hips. His cock was already rock hard, swinging between his thighs.

Crüe eyed up the Slayer’s dick, his face flushing. He never remembered it being that large. His first thought was to look around for some lube, but the Slayer was already fishing it out of the drawer and lubing up his dick.

After he was done, his fingers touched the inside of Crüe’s thighs, unsure of what to do next. Was Crüe supposed to- put lube on himself, or was that his job? He faltered and paused for a moment, his face flushing.

Crüe came to his rescue, “I’ll guide you.” He reached out and grabbed the man’s hand, his fingers already covered in lube and guided him down.

The Slayer nodded, he knew what to do and worked two fingers inside the demon. It felt odd, but interesting. He was basically just staring down at the demon’s crotch like he was trying to use X-ray vision to see his fingers. He then realized that was weird and looked up at Crüe who was grinning back at him, propped up on his elbows.

He had imagined this scene so often with him laying on his back, the Slayer in between his legs, and it was even better than he imagined. He didn’t need to be worked open like a virgin as he was well experienced in the whole bottoming department, but he appreciated the gentleness the man was showing him. Soon he laid back, relaxing all his muscles, and letting his head rest on the pillows and just enjoying the ride. He was vocal about his praise towards the Slayer.

The Slayer pulled out his fingers and leaned forwards, kissing the demon. His heart fluttered and he was blushing so badly. “You ready?”

Crüe smiled up at him nodding. “Yes, and, Slayer, be a little rough.”

He grabbed his dick and lined it up, pushing himself inside. His eyes felt like rolling back into his skull, it felt so good… He dug his feet into the bed to get a better foothold to thrust, and slipped his arms under Crüe’s upper arms, gripping his shoulder.

Crüe let out a deep murmuring noise, oh how desperately he needed this. The man’s rhythm was slow and so, so gentle. The demon placed both hands on the man’s hips, caressing his skin. He couldn’t believe how intimate this felt, not to mention orgasmic. “Slayer-“ the words had barely left his lips before the man kissed him, silencing his moans.

The Slayer kept up his long, slow tempo. He would occasionally thrust a little harder, a little deeper, but he was barely keeping himself together. The way the demon felt underneath him, the way he looked up at him with his half lidded red eyes, his claws touching his back and hips, urging him on ever so slightly. He was just desperately trying not to come so soon. He looked away from the demon, looking down at his chest, hoping to distract himself.

Crüe gripped onto the man, one hand trailed off his hips and went down to give his aching dick some attention. His moans filled the room, in rhythm with the slow thrusting. “Go harder, harder.” He urged desperately.

The Slayer pulled out and grabbed the demon, turning him and pulling him halfway off the bed. He stood at the side of the bed and started pumping into him like his life depended on it. “Is this what you want?” He regretted sounding so cocky because in a moment he was already struggling to keep himself together.

Crüe spread his legs wide and leaned his head back. Yes. It was exactly what he wanted. He hadn’t been fucked like this in months. God, he forgot how much he loved being fucked, how much he needed this. He was so close, so close, his hands trailed down again to touch himself.

The Slayer couldn’t fight it anymore and he lost his battle. He grabbed the demon’s hips and slid all the way inside, pumping the demon full of his cum.

With a final pleased gasp, Crüe came. His hands reached up, grabbing the Slayer and pulling him in for a love bite. He needed it. He needed to hold on and show the man how much he loved him. He loved him so much!

The Slayer felt fangs sink into the sensitive skin of his shoulder. It was like a goddamn shark attack. The demon released for a second only to readjust and bite him again, this time harder and more horrific. The Slayer had tears in his eyes from the pure pleasure of the bite and grabbed at the demon's face, speaking through gritted teeth, “Fuck.” He lifted one of the demon’s legs up a bit and pushed him back up onto the bed. Sharp pain blossomed through him as Crüe released.

He was a bit startled at the taste of blood in his mouth, but the taste was quickly forgotten as he felt the Slayer pull out. He was glad the Slayer let him bite down hard, riding out the waves and the rush of hormones. After a while, Crüe finally came back to reality and looked up at his lover. They didn’t speak for a few minutes, just the Slayer laying on top of the demon, occasionally wiping at the blood dripping down from his shoulder. The demon slowly got out from underneath the man, and they laid side by side. “Did I bite too hard?”

The Slayer got timid and only gave the demon a little embarrassed smile, “Not too hard, just right.”

They cleaned up and reconvened back on the bed, Crüe lighting up a cigarette while the Slayer rested his head in the crook of the demon's neck.

The demon offered the cig to the Slayer, like he was the snake enticing him with god’s forbidden fruit.

The man took it, and took a long draw of the nicotine. As he handed it back to Crüe and exhaled, he couldn’t help but ponder why it had taken him so long to dabble in all these earthly delights. Sex, porn, smoking, drinking… It was all so addictive and beautiful. He knew they were sinful.

But after all he was going to be going back to hell soon anyways.

Chapter 81: Six Months of Demon Slaying

Marty teleported to and fro through the dilapidated buildings outside of the walls. The greenery and destruction flying past his face. The way he teleported was far different from those dingy, disgusting portals. His mass folded in on itself and for a split second he could see the area around him and through walls for a short time, helping him to avoid teleporting into walls and whatnot. Then he would spring out of his own folded mass in the location of his choosing, with no portal sickness.

It made him feel in control which was something he had been craving to have ever since him and Mez met.

His dearest daughter Ruth chased after him through the buildings, letting out happy yells. Mez was somewhere close behind her claws scraping against the ground, gaining on her husband.

Marty loved his daughter more than the entire human world or all of hell. She was half Mez of course but luckily she didn’t inherit her mother’s violent tendencies or manipulative behavior.

Both of them even occasionally hung out on date nights with the Slayer and Crüe. Mez could still be controlling then and would often make him leave early feigning nausea or a drunken stagger, only to come home, recover as soon as he foot crossed the doorway, and chew him out for something.

His daughter finally caught up with him and tackled him to the floor of the skyscraper they were running through. He yielded and surrendered to her, breathing heavily as he sat up.

Mez crawled up as well and sat down, letting Ruth sit in between them.

“It’s nice to be outside without having to worry about being attacked,” Ruth leaned back, enjoying the sun on her face.

“The Slayer has done his job well.” Mez nodded, agreeing with her daughter.

Six months had passed with the Slayer killing demons all around the city, making the populations dwindle so much that now unarmed civilians were allowed to walk outside the walls. The temperatures had also cooled rapidly, but the demon family was told that was mostly due to the beginning of “Autumn” and “Winter” not entirely from the Slayer’s sheer wrath absorbing the heat.

“Why did you bring us out here?” Ruth looked up at her father. “You said you wanted to talk about something?”

Mez smiled and Marty, “It’s about time we told her.”

“Well, the Slayer is going to be leaving soon. He’s continuing to fight demons to protect Urdak. I want to go. Your mother doesn’t, and you’re our deciding factor.”

“Will we be fighting?!” She gave him a shocked look.

“No, no. We will just be tagging along on this big boat to help out where we can.” Marty laughed, “Don’t worry no one from this family will be actually fighting.”

“Why don’t you want to go?” She looked to her mother, concerned about this situation. Why did she have to be the deciding vote?

“I never liked the water so I’m a little apprehensive of going on a boat.” She admitted to her daughter.

“I mean it sounds cool…” She looked a little nervous and turned away from her parents.

Mez wrapped her arm around her, “Remember how dangerous it is Ruth. Your father doesn’t realize that.”

She looked out over the city, her eyes darted to a faded, half broken ad for a cruise ship. In all honesty she didn’t want to go, their family had already moved so many times, but she had a bad feeling about going. “I don’t want to go.”

Marty nodded, accepting the decision of his wife and daughter, “It’s probably best to stay.”

While they relaxed outside the city the Slayer and Crüe were getting ready. “Ok you’ll have to take Haru to his check up and go take Daisy’s kids to the biology department for their check up. I’m going to get everything on our final list and start packing the supplies.”

Crüe nodded and kissed the man, his foot half was out the door, holding two cat carriers full of very angry creatures. “Of course, I got it.”

“Oh also don’t forget to ask the armory for transport cases for our armor, and make sure you ask the vet about that bruise on Missy’s wing.” He looked around and swore, lunging for his phone. “Shit I needed to be on that meeting five minutes ago!”

“Have fun! Text me if you need me to do anything else!” Crüe hurried out of the apartment and started his massive list of things he needed to get done.

Six months had passed since him and the Slayer shared that bottle of wine and each other's bodies. They had done that many times since then, but now Crüe didn’t even have time to think. Their lives had been orbiting around each other in a beautiful, perfect dance, but now that they were going to be leaving in a few days it was chaos.

Everything had to get a clean bill of health before going on the boat. Daisy’s kids got theirs at the biology department who examined the squealing little squabs, giving them a clean bill of health. The bruise on Missy’s wing was nothing more than a wound from a bit of rough housing. Haru was next and despite his shrieks and wails as he got a few vaccines, he too had a clean bill of health.

Crüe stood out on a street, looking at his list, still holding the two cat carriers that were full of rage. He still had to go to the armory, but he also had to get some papers notarized so he could have his check up done later tonight, but he also had to go to the bank and get their finances sorted out cause somehow the bank opened another account in their name and was refusing to shut it over the phone and was charging them overdraft fees. Oh Christ he had an easier day to day when he was in hell. Oh god not to mention he had to do the laundry! He was wearing a silly pair of the Slayer’s underwear covered in leopard print that were far too tight and chafing everything below his belt.

The rest of his day he might as well have been a robot. Dropping this off, picking this up, arguing with a bank employee and nearly threatening to rip their head off, doing this, doing that, on and on and on…

When he finally got home he slumped down onto the couch, he stuck a finger under the too tight waistband of his underwear and sighed, melting into the couch.

The Slayer opened up the door soon after with bags of some of their much needed supplies. He was doing something on his phone and kicked the door shut behind him. “Are you ready for our checkups?”

Crüe just groaned and slid down, laying face down on the couch. “I’m so tired.”

“It won’t be bad. They are just gonna poke and prod us a bit. Did you get everything done?” The Slayer knelt down beside the couch, “I can’t wait to go to our new home. When I went to that meeting Sam said he was gonna get us a nice room.”

“The virtual meeting? I thought Sam wasn’t going to that one?” Crüe peeked up from the couch.

“No, the two other in person meetings. He had to go to those ones.” The Slayer rubbed the demon’s arm. “Come on get up.”

With a great deal of effort and a long walk to the biology department, they finally arrived and were instructed to both strip down to their underwear in a lab space. Samuel walked in after them holding a clipboard and looking extremely tired, his chassis was sort of slouched over and his blue optic would occasionally flash orange.

“Why are you in here watching us take our clothes off?!” The Slayer had taken off his shirt but was now clutching it against his chest, protecting his nipples.

“I’ve had to do this for about a hundred other people today in between meetings, please shut up and sit down on that table.” He pointed his pen in the direction of one of those weird doctor office tables with the butcher paper on them.

Crüe froze and blinked, remembering the funky underwear he was wearing. “Do we have to take our clothes off?”

“Yes but, just down to your underwear.” Samuel pulled over a chair and sat down, as he could already tell his was going to be a hell of a ride. “Please do not get entirely naked for the love of god…” He put his head in his hands, muttering. So many people had stripped entirely today. He’d seen enough old man ass to last a lifetime.

He turned to the Slayer, hoping the man could help him out, “Change underwear with me.”

“What? Why?” He looked at the demon like he was crazy and covered his crotch with his hands.

“Do not exchange underwear.” Samuel bolted upright, his optic a harsh, glaring blue.

“Please?” He gave the man puppy dog eyes in an attempt to not look like a complete fool.

“NO!” Both the Slayer and Samuel hissed at the demon.

“I forgot to do laundry! Look at how ridiculous I look!” He lifted up his shirt and pulled down his pants enough that the Slayer could see.

He tried to maintain a straight face but broke down into a giggle, “You look like a stripper! You’ll be fine, and we can do them after we get out of here.”

Crüe had taken off his shirt and pants and was now standing nearly bare in the cold lab. “I swear I’ll make this up to you if you switch with me.”

“Do NOT, either of you, take your underwear off. I swear in the name of all things holy, I will kill you.” Samuel hissed at them before the Slayer could even consider Crüe’s offer.

Crüe looked over, and grinned, “Can I switch with you then?”

“NOOO!”

After Samuel finally convinced Crüe to just suffer with his weird underwear, a team of people walked in a little while after and as promised poked and prodded them all over, giving them half a dozen scans and tests as Samuel hovered nearby, checking off his list as they went.

The Slayer basically closed his eyes and let them poke and prod. He didn’t enjoy the blood sample being taken, they missed his vein a few times and it made his skin crawl.

Crue was much more nervous and didn’t really have time during the day to mentally prepare himself for the humans' weird medical tools. The crew of people poking him didn’t explain anything to him and it made him feel like a test subject. They gave him a few shots and didn’t even let him know they would hurt like hell. Some dude kept touching his horns and he wanted to gore him. He especially didn’t like when they made him stand up off the table and lean in a few different directions, touch his toes, all those weird positions. Their staring faces made him feel like a freak, he wanted to go home.

Samuel finally scratched off the last part of their check up, had them sign some stuff, and declared them good to go.

“Here, do you want to walk home with me and Elena? She’s up stairs in her office.” Samuel offered the two in a rather kind gesture. Just mentioning her name seemed to make him a little more excited and perky.

The Slayer nodded, putting his clothes back on.

Crüe had slapped his clothes back on his body the first moment he was able to, hiding the embarrassing underwear. He had to get four shots, two in each arm, to be considered "up to date" and now both his arms were getting sore already. He wanted to get home and crawl under a blanket but he agreed to seem polite.

They walked home discussing and laughing about the upcoming mission. The Slayer was actually sort of excited by how awesome it sounded.

Crüe smiled and looked around the city as they all walked, the beautiful lights and chatter from thousands of people, the sun hanging low in the sky casting out rays of red and orange.

Life was good.

Chapter 82: Caught by the Paparazzi

Samuel stretched out like a cat, rubbing his face in the hopes to remove the sleep from his eyes, but only feeling the cold steel and glass of his singular blue optic. He left his hands on his face for a bit, peeking out at Elena’s bedroom through his fingers.

He had basically moved in with her, not officially of course because it was dumb to do so when they were going to be leaving for missions again so soon, but he had left a small vial of oil in her nightstand to lubricant his joints. He assumed that was basically his equivalent of leaving a toothbrush at your lover's house.

He removed his hands from his faceplate and rolled over, “Hello my love.” He purred out and laid his head on her chest, running his fingers down the side of her body, feeling every rib.

She was sitting against the headboard looking at her phone. She patted the man’s smooth head, and massaged the metal. “It looks like we have a problem, Sam.”

He was up in an instant, peeking at her phone screen, expecting to see a horrific monster or hellish creature. Instead, it was a photo of them from last night after they had dropped the Slayer and marauder off and went to dinner. A bold flashy title read, “SAMUEL, THE WHORE, ATTEMPTING TO SEDUCE ELENA RICHARDSON?”

She backed out of the article to show him the search results for Elena Richardson and Samuel Hayden which was just a flood of news articles showing photos of them laughing and enjoying last night together. Whether they wanted it or not, they were officially out to the world as a couple.

“Oh shit.” His hands went back to his face and neck, playing with his wires closest to the surface. “What do we do?”

“Well, we should probably cancel our reservation for the Golden Keel tonight, but we knew this would eventually happen soon.” She gave him a slightly apologetic look. “We have been pretty clingy in public.”

The dawning realization of that horrified Samuel, like he was some depraved horny beast. The embarrassment made him want to cry. “Oh Christ! Are you going to lose your job? Have I messed everything up again?”

“Honestly they aren’t saying anything bad about me really, mostly just saying you’re a slut.” She shut her phone off and set it on the bed. “I’ll send out an email to some of the ARC departments; they won’t really care that much.”

Samuel couldn’t believe how calm Elena was, “Are you positive?”

She grabbed his head, kissing him. “Relax, my dear. It’s a nice day. We could watch movies and relax while we wait for this to all blow over.”

He tried to relax but he failed after about ten milliseconds, he leaned his face on her hand, “I’m an outcast chairman of the UAC, not to mention I’ve made some horrific decisions regarding the Slayer and that damned Crucible I had him retrieve. Trying to get into the pants of an ARC higher up doesn’t look very good.”

She pulled up one of the articles and handed her phone to him, “Look.”

He began reading the article aloud, starting with its title, “Depraved robot abomination with a hard on for power-“

She scrolled down to the photo of them together, “Ignore that, really look.”

He struggled to get the article title out of his mind, but he looked at the photos of them together. It must have been around the time they got dessert because their wine glasses were running frightfully low. Elena was midlaugh which would look stupid on anyone else, but Samuel thought it looked beautiful on her, both at the time and now. In the photos he had his elbows on the table, his hands propping his head up, and just sat there admiring her as she talked.

Elena touched his shoulder and kissed the side of his face, “We look adorable, specifically you. The camera didn’t get my good side.” She smiled as she joked, but gently touched the scars of her face. She scrolled down a little more and clicked the comments, looking to face Samuel as he read them.

The grand majority in the comments were relatively tame, congratulating Elena on finding someone and discussing other rumors between them. “So they don’t seem to be horrifically disturbed.”

“Not many people care about who you’re banging this day and age.” She reached down over the side of the bed to grab her slippers and put them on her feet, but she paused, “Well as long as it’s consensual of course. The ARC has invested massive funds into marriage and children propaganda.”

“Ewww I can’t imagine a corporation trying to convince me to have a kid.” He basically gaged at the mere idea of having offspring.

“It’s not my favorite propaganda we’ve put out, but that and the social programs we have for mothers and families have really helped with rebuilding.” She picked a piece of lint off the bed and flicked it onto the floor, “It honestly is kind of odd how fast the population is bouncing back, I couldn’t imagine ever having kids. Not after the things I’ve seen.”

Samuel watched her touch his face, feeling the scars before pulling it away and standing up. He followed her into the kitchen and sat beside her as she ate breakfast, he wasn’t very hungry and turned on the TV.

A few talk show hosts were talking about the new revelation of Elena’s and Samuel’s relationship. He was jolted out of his thoughts by his phone ringing and answered it.

The Slayer was on the other end, “YOOO! You and Elena got caught! It’s all over the news.”

“I’m aware,” he said rather gruffly, not wanting to tolerate the man’s antics today, “Is there a productive reason why you decided to call me-“

Crüe must have snatched the phone out of the Slayer’s hand cause all he could hear was the muffled sounds of the Slayer wrestling the demon while Crüe screamed “K-I-S-S-I-N-G” into the phone.

He hung up on them and shook his head, “Idiots.”

Hunched over the table, Elena swallowed a spoonful of cereal, “Well they seem energetic so early in the morning.”

“A mix of excitement about leaving for the boat and probably them both enjoying a bit of gleeful revenge.” He shrugged a bit embarrassed by them.

“Ooh gleeful revenge for what?” She smiled at him, and he sighed.

“I used to basically torture them when they were first together. Kicking down doors if I knew they were in a room together. I think I may have even sung that same song to them once.” He laughed as he remembered all the fun times they had on the fortress, “I was fairly cruel to them so I’m getting my dues now.”

“Awww,” her eyes glanced at the TV and back at Samuel, “Well they are certainly getting their revenge.” She pointed her spoon at the TV.

He turned to face the TV and saw they had an artist's recreation of what his dick would look like based on the rest of his body’s design of white and metal armor. “Oh fantastic. How can you just show a dick on television? Back in my day, we had some class.”

Elena went to laugh at the man’s misfortune and accidentally shot milk out of her nose, which made both of them erupt into laughter.

The rest of the day was relatively boring. Samuel felt like he needed to be rushing around after having such a stressful day yesterday, but he snuggled on the couch with Elena and watched countless old movies.

They ordered some Chinese food and tipped the delivery guy heavily with the promise that he wouldn’t tell anyone he saw them together.

Samuel rested his head against hers, gently touching her scars. Hours had passed and the moon hung in the sky, Elena was fast asleep. He smiled to himself, enjoying the feeling of warmth and joy inside his cold chassis.

He wished he could feel this human all the time. As much as he wanted to stay in this moment forever, he picked Elena up and carried her to bed, before sitting back down on the couch and opening up Elena’s phone.

With a quick search in settings he found all the Bluetooth security cameras in her apartment. She even had them labeled, so convenient. He counted four of them and looked around the room, he couldn’t calculate a blind spot so he took a goofy selfie of himself and set it as her wallpaper so he’d have an excuse of why he was on her phone if she checked her cameras. He headed for the bathroom. Guilt washed over him and he glanced over at Elena’s phone that laid on the coffee table.

It would look suspicious going into the bathroom… and on the off chance Elena checked her cameras it was better to be safe than sorry. He felt the last warmth in his chest dissipate and he stood in the middle of the room, faking a show that he had something on his face by rubbing the side of his face plate with his thumb and looking confused.

Once he was in the bathroom he opened up a compartment on his arm and sat down on the floor, he pulled out a small flip phone, but even calling it that was generous. It was a jerry rigged, redneck-engineered hunk of motherboards, and wires, but it worked. The screen was tiny and had a green hue. The numbers and letters displayed were in a thick dark green font, and the keyboard was half numbers, half letters and all parts a disaster but it worked well enough for him to type.

“Hello. Are you free yet?”

He was hunched over the phone for a solid hour before it finally chirped a response. He reached out and grabbed it, his blue optic trying to sponge up all the information it could.

“Hello, and no. I am still trying.”

He responded quickly, “Can you try and convince him-“ he wanted desperately to type: ‘or lie about it’ but he was worried who might intercept his message. He debated but finally sent his message, “Can you try and convince him? He seems reasonable.”

The response was fast, “He is hunting you. The trap is laid. I must go.”

Samuel sighed and rubbed his forehead, he leaned down and typed one last message, “Stay safe Vega.”

He waited a long time for a response, but the chat disconnected from disuse. He leaned back against the wall and fiddled around with the phone, tucking it back in his arm compartment.

The first message popped up on a pay phone in the city as he walked one night. All he could hear was mechanical breathing on the other end.

The second one was an email sent to an account he knew only the AI knew about. It was full of gibberish, but it was Vega. He made that little shitty burner phone and sent the number back to Vega through the email.

Samuel wasn’t quite sure how he could send messages from inside the brain of God, but he found a way and was desperate to free himself from god. He didn’t want the Slayer to know, not yet. It was far too dangerous for the man to go back to Urdak.

He stood and looked in the bathroom mirror. So God himself had laid a trap for him? He knew he shouldn’t feel so confident, but with the Slayer loyal as a dog right by his side he could only scoff at an attempt to end him. God would have to be quite bold and clever to end him before the Slayer struck back.

Chapter 83: Digging a Hole and Crawling Under a Rock

He woke up to the marauder scratching his shoulder and whispering something in his ear. To say he jolted awake was an understatement. He was immediately up and a half second away from grabbing a shotgun and attacking whatever was hurting Crüe.

“Do you think if… I mean well…” He was sitting upright with his eyes closed. Both of his hands were pressing into the mattress right by the man’s shoulder.

“What?” He sat up and tapped the side of Crüe’s face, earning no reaction whatsoever. “Are you really sleep talking?” He whispered and leaned in closer to examine his love.

He pawed at the sheets and dragged his claws across them like he was attempting to dig a hole into the mattress. He replied to the Slayer with some babbling words his half asleep mind threw together.

Cursing himself for being so awake now, the Slayer laid back and stared up at Crüe. This didn't seem like one of his weird toxic sludge dreams, but he figured it might be a good idea to watch him.

He dug at the bed some more, lightly scratching the man’s shoulder from time to time. He eventually then attempted to nuzzle his head under the Slayer’s neck.

The man rolled his eyes and shoved the beast away, “Crüe go to bed.”

The man pulled back for a moment, offended, his tongue sticking out of his mouth a bit, “Well, you still have to do your homework so shut up.” He began pawing at the Slayer now, attempting to crawl underneath him.

“I haven’t been in school for a millennium!” He grumbled and pinched the bridge of his nose. While he did find this all endearing it was annoying in the early hours of the morning. He pushed Crüe down onto the bed and laid on top of him. “This what you wanted, goofball?”

The demon let out a low sigh and leaned his head back, whispering something. His hands found the Slayer’s biceps and held onto them lovingly.

The man stared out the window and listened as Crüe drifted off, thinking about the day. It was wild to him that Samuel and Elena had been outed as a couple. It also made him terrified.

The thought of the public knowing what he did in his free time was downright horrifying. Not to mention there were always those few weirdos who would be upset and he just hated the idea of being judged by the people he fought to protect. Not to mention if he didn’t at the bare minimum have the ability to control when he came out to the public with Crüe, he was certain he’d be so embarrassed he’d crawl under a rock.

Morning came and Crüe told the Slayer all about his wonderful dream where he was a lizard and he dug a big hole to nap in. The man just nodded and smiled while sorting finances and sending stupid emails. He wanted to shove all this work aside and tackle his demon in a hug. Crüe could be so distractingly cute sometimes…

The demon was carrying Haru like a gun, one hand under his chest and the other wrapped around the cat's legs. He was chasing Daisy’s squabs around, and pretending to shoot them. “Bang! Bang!”

Orca and Missy were dashing around the apartment chattering and yelling. Daisy’s collar occasionally picked up on their chirps and a cacophony of “Gun! Run! HIDE! Left, Right!” filled the apartment.

Haru was not pleased and kept meowing his complaints. Eventually he attempted to bite the demon and the game ended. Crüe sat down at the table huffing and out of breath. His hands reached out and he held onto the Slayer, “What’s on the schedule today?”

“Fighting with the bank about that account mostly. That can all be done over email so-“ he shut the laptop he was typing on with a satisfying click, “Not much.”

“Could we talk about something then?” His claws were removed off the Slayer and he rested them on the table, drumming them against the wood.

The Slayer nodded and gave a little look to Daisy and Haru. Wondering if they were allowed to be in on this conversation.

Crüe stood, “I have to wash my face, let’s go to the bathroom.”

They both hurried off and shut the door, which earned them the sound of Haru clawing at it, wanting to know what they were doing without him.

“Is something wrong?” The Slayer gently touched the demon’s shoulder.

“No, no, nothing’s wrong.” The demon rocked back on his heels and gave him a little grin, “I was wondering if we should come out as a couple soon?”

The man tried to hide the look of discomfort on his face but failed. He pulled away and paced around the bathroom a little bit, “I mean… we could, but do you really want everyone knowing our business or running our names through the dirt?”

Crüe shrugged and leaned against the sink, his fingers tracing the tiny almost imperceivable dent where the Slayer had wrecked into it, “I’ve been keeping up with Elena and Samuel and it looks like there isn’t a lot of pushback, sure a few bad articles but a lot of people are happy for them. Not to mention wouldn’t it be fun to do all the bold things they did? Like going to a fancy restaurant together or even walking around the city holding hands instead of pretending that we don’t know each other!”

“We still do fun things!” The Slayer argued.

“Yeah as roommates not as a couple!” Crüe scoffed and drummed his fingers on the dent. He hung his head looking sad. “Especially with Haru and Daisy and her kids. It’s like we never have time to ourselves in the apartment and when we’re outside the apartment we have to hide.”

The Slayer sighed and sat down on the edge of the tub, “Ok things have been sort of boring recently. The past six months had been full of planning and exercising and training. They had basically been working twelve hour shifts nearly every day outside the walls. On days they weren't fighting they would be in a meeting being told how to operate when they were fighting in Urdak and the rough plan of how they would be doing that. It didn’t leave much time or space for their relationship to bloom and grow. “Could we at least wait until after we’re on the ship?”

Despite the voice in his head telling him to push back, he nodded, “We could do that.” The marauder shoved himself off the sink and sat down next to him. He leaned his big horns against him, “Oh did you hear there's gonna be a wedding on the ship? Elena mentioned it to me yesterday.”

“Wait really?” That perked the Slayer up, “We could dance together at the wedding. That would be fun.”

“There was also something else I was thinking about doing. In hell, a couple will get a vase and fill it with little trinkets. It’s just a cute thing, I was thinking we could try it.” He seemed almost a little embarrassed but the Slayer turned and held his hand. “I just want to do something, anything besides sitting inside all day.”

“Then let's go get a vase.” The Slayer squeezed his hand and stood, pulling him up.

Before they left the bathroom, Crüe pulled the Slayer into his open arms, “You promise we won’t have to keep hiding once we’re on the ship?”

As much as the idea of being exposed to everyone terrified him, the man nodded and leaned his head into the demon's pecs, “I promise.”

They went down to the shops and bought a cheap little vase. It was literally the most generic clear glass vase imaginable, but the marauder insisted it was perfect. The Slayer had it wrapped lovingly in newspaper and carried it home in a plastic bag.

Maybe it was just because he was looking for it now, but he noticed how cold it felt as they walked home. There was a two foot gap in between them that seemed to force them to be miles apart. The Slayer found himself wanting to reach out and brush his hand against the marauder’s, but it was too risky. The streets were full of people. He wondered if this was how the marauder felt and he felt guilty he had been oblivious to the emotions of his lover. It didn’t change the mind numbing fear that ate him alive from the inside.

They went back home and he tried not to worry that someone might have seen them together while they assembled their little vase.

Crüe put in some coins from when they had gotten change at that hole in the wall dinner. The Slayer put in a little crumpled note that he wrote to the marauder oh so long ago, before he could speak. Their hospital bracelets and their receipts from the Golden Keel went in as well.

To any other person it would look like a very ornate trash can, but Crüe and the Slayer both were proud of their little vase. Daisy even put in a random bottle cap and Haru put in his favorite mouse toy but then quickly fished it back out when he missed it again.

They sat down on the couch watching TV and the Slayer snuggled close to the marauder, shoving Haru away. “He’s mine.”

The cat hissed at him and went to slap his face, but Crüe flicked both of their heads, “There’s enough of me for both of you, relax.” That ended the fight but a sort of Cold War broke out on his lap with Haru angrily glaring at the bit of the Slayer's hand that was resting on his side of the marauder’s thighs.

“It’s gonna be moving day in two days. I can't believe it.” The Slayer sighed and looked around, “Tomorrow’s gonna be busy. Maybe we should work on packing stuff today, we still have a few hours.”

Crüe just grumbled and shook his head, “No, let’s just stay here. I don’t want to get off this couch.”

“I’ll sit with you for a little while longer then I’ll get working on everything.” The Slayer rested his eyes and vowed to get up soon, but it only took a few minutes before he was out like a light, sleeping.

Crüe glanced over at the man and ran a claws hand through his hair, giving him a smile so warm and loving he must have felt it in his dreams. “I’m the luckiest demon alive.” Once the show was over, he picked up the Slayer and carried him to bed, tucking him in and making him as comfortable as possible.

Chapter 84: Welcome to The ARC Carrier

One minute the Slayer was napping on the couch the next he was helping Crüe carry their belongings to a Subway station that would take them to the ship. The two days flashed by and the Slayer felt sick about leaving the city. It was the first time in so long he felt like he had a home. He wanted to cry looking at their emptied out apartment, not to mention he thought he’d have enough time to look around one last time, but they were too rushed.

Him and the marauder sat down on the train. Daisy was holding her kids and sat in his lap while Haru sat pouting in an animal carrier on Crüe’s lap, and a few boxes and their suitcases sat beside them. A few other people were nearby also surrounded by their belongings packed into suitcases and boxes.

Crüe could see how utterly depressed the Slayer was and he was as well. The only silver lining he could find was the fact that they’d be able to have more PDA in public while on the ship, but still. He couldn’t stand listening to the tracks and the lights flickering overhead as this underground hell train chugged along. He took out his phone and put an ear bud in his ear, then reached over across a seat full of boxes and shoved the other in the Slayer’s ear. The man jumped, surprised at the sudden feeling of his ear being poked at, but soon enough both him and the demon were smiling and quietly laughing at stupid videos.

It must have taken the train about an hour to get to the port. There were frequent stops, not to mention they were creeping along at a painfully slow pace for fear of demonic traps. Once they were there they were ushered off the train by military personnel and loaded their belongings onto a conveyor then boarded. Daisy was being good and had her two babies scooped up in her arms and rushed behind the Slayer, walking shakily on two legs. Haru had already been upset about having to be in an animal carrier but being in one and getting swung around like a piece of meat?! He was pissed and let everyone know what cruelty he was experiencing by screaming.

The whole thing had the Slayer so worked up he was glad the crowds were thick enough that he could lean on the marauder without raising suspicion. He kept stopping to push Daisy in front of him, so terrified she’d be trampled in the crowd. Crüe was trying to calm Haru. The Slayer and the marauder’s just barely touching hands just seemed like any old accident, meanwhile it was all that was keeping the Slayer from leaping out of the crowd and escaping into the wastelands of New York.

After their paperwork and other stupid things were checked they came upon the main deck where everyone was being funneled. Before the Slayer walked up and asked one of the ARC personnel where the hell he was supposed to go, Samuel swooped in, plucking all of their belongings out of their hands and ushered both of them off the main deck and down a few long hallways to his new room.

“The rooms are absolutely fantastic here. A little tiny but it’s much nicer than I expected!” Samuel struggled for a moment with the keys and he opened the door to the room. Well, it was actually a little cramped hallway-like space for a few feet, then the room.

The Slayer stepped inside and looked around, Crüe with in tow. The demon quickly bent down and released Haru from his crate, the cat running off into the room. The room was bigger than their kitchen and living room in their old apartment. There was a big round coffee table surrounded on two sides by curved couches. The one wall had two small windows that were quite military looking, but they had a cute little mini kitchen under them, with drawers and cabinets in between. On each side of the big room there were two doors leading to bedrooms. In the small hallway there was a door leading to a bathroom on one side and on the other a little pantry like closet.

Daisy galloped past them, her children chasing after, “This place good, very nice! Good job robot!” Haru jumped up onto the couch to escape her children.

Samuel leaned down to smile at her as he haphazardly tossed their luggage on the floor. “Thank you, Daisy. What do you two think?”

Crüe smiled and looked around at everything, “It’s great!” He peeked his head into the side rooms. There wasn’t much room besides the beds and a single dresser in each room. The beds in each room were smaller than the big bed in their apartment, but they still would be enough for both of them.

The Slayer didn’t seem as welcoming of the new home and wasn’t interested in poking around, he just looked around at the living room with his arms crossed. He craned his neck and looked out the window at the docks. “Hmm.”

“What, don’t you like it?” Samuel examined the Slayer’s face, now interested.

“Ahh no.” His eyes snapped back to face the man, “Just miss our apartment, and the fortress. I don’t like moving, it reminds me of Vega.”

That took Samuel off guard and for a moment he panicked, did the Slayer know his secret? He realized that was irrational and quickly recovered, “Well I should be on my way.” He nearly tripped over Daisy rushing out of their room.

A half hour later, Crüe finished unpacking mostly everything, he hadn’t touched the Slayer’s personal suitcase yet, and hid their more intimate items under one of the beds.

The Slayer was still a bit off and Crüe walked over as he sorted through kitchen supplies, scooping him up and tossing him over his shoulder. “Crüe put me down.” He gripped the demon’s back and sides, trying not to slip off.

“Ooh no me and you and gonna snuggle on these two couches. You’re not really gonna pick sorting kitchen plates over snuggling?” He leaned his head against the man’s hip and gripped his legs tightly. He began walking over to the couch, “And if you want to talk about Vega, we could.”

“Well I’d like to talk about it when I’m not being held nearly upside down.” He said in a grouchy voice.

“Ok, ok,” Crüe flopped the man down on the couch. Haru was glued to his lap as soon as he sat down. “I know you hate moving. It reminds me of bad stuff too… leaving family and all that.” He waved his hand making it clear he had no interest in talking about that yet again.

The Slayer sighed, “I think I just don’t like change. I don’t like all of the stuff around me just being replaced with something else. Like I keep looking over at that stupid kitchen and just thinking how are we gonna cook anything in that tiny, stupid oven! There’s two fucking tiddlywinks of counter space!”

“It is a rather shitty kitchen.” Crüe nodded, wrapping his arm around the man. “About Vega-“

“We should have fought harder for Vega when we were in Urdak. I have no clue how I just let him get transformed back into a… God I guess- hell I don’t know!” His jaw clenched and he reached out to pat Haru’s head. “I feel like I threw my best friend under a bus. I read through his whole research report of an obituary he made for me.”

“How was it?” Crüe gave him a little rub on his shoulder, pulling him in so he could rest his head.

“I mean Vega wrote it so it was perfect, of course. It just made me sad. Cause Vega was always such a hopeful fucker, and he wrote that obituary as a giant propaganda piece to rally ARC to fight the demons…” he realized he was getting off track and brought it back, “I just don’t make friends easily and I miss him.” He hung his head and fiddled with his hands. “Just moving reminds me of all that.”

“Vega helped me out so much and I only knew the guy for a few months. We’ll go back to Urdak one day and get him.” Crüe squeezed the man’s arm with a grin.

That got the man out of his funk for a bit and he seemed ready to work on making this new room his home. They put up a few photos of their whole misfit group that the Slayer had printed out before they left. Then out of the blue the Slayer laughed as he pulled a wrapped shoebox out of the suitcase. “I almost forgot about this! It’s for you!”

The demon took the box and examined it. The wrapping paper was covered in “Happy birthday” and “Go birthday girl.” He gave the man an odd grin, “For… me?”

The Slayer nodded, “Open it up, we could use it as a decoration if you’d like.”

Crüe slowly unwrapped and opened the box. He rolled his eyes and leaned back laughing. He pulled out one of those little wooden deer antler plaques with his four old broken horns glued into it. He basically ran over to a free wall space and hung it up proudly. “MY OLD HORNS! I LOVE IT!”

The way he stood proudly in front of it with such a massive grin made the Slayer smile. He put his hands in his pockets and their little room actually began to feel like a home.

They put on music and danced and helped Daisy arrange her nest in a cozy corner of the big room near a potted plant. Haru was annoyed, and he was still sitting on the couch. Crue opened the fridge and nearly squealed with delight as he pulled out a little complimentary bottle of wine. “HEYYOOO!”

“Shall we drink?” The Slayer fetched two normal glasses, tragically unable to find any fancy wine glasses.

“Me want one too!!” Daisy crawled up on the counter. “Gimme, gimme!”

He grabbed a third glass, and shrugged, “I mean sure, I guess. It’s not bad to give alcohol to a pet as long as they drink responsibly!”

“I not mere pet!” She protested, “I drink all time in hell. Drink day and night, very yummy!” She yapped while taking the glass and drinking it down.

Crüe poured the wine and they all drank, reclining on the two couches. “I could get used to this.” He laid his head down in the Slayer’s lap. Occasionally looking over at the love vase on their new coffee table. He had the perfect little buzz going and felt like he was in heaven.

Across the ship in Samuel’s and Elena’s room, things weren’t going as fantastically well.

Samuel stood in the silence of his and Elena’s bathroom, staring at the little phone he used to talk to Vega. He must have missed it, but there was one missed call and one voicemail sitting in the inbox. It was menacing to look at and he felt horrified. Elena was sleeping in the other room and he struggled to click the button to play the message.

He didn’t think he wanted to hear what was on the other line, but he also didn’t think he could survive not knowing what the message was.

With one last bracing himself he turned the volume down real low and held the phone up to his ear. He could only hear his own mechanical breathing quietly echoing in the bathroom. Finally the soft sound of static burst through, he could hear Vega’s breathing now. Someone was speaking in binary code but it was so quiet he couldn’t make out the conversation. Finally he heard Vega’s voice, “Forces are after the Slayer, traps have been set for you. Be careful! You are not being careful!”

The voice mail cut and deleted itself before Samuel could analyze it further. He felt annoyed, he was being careful! What traps could they have set for him? Something on the boat? Not to mention of course ‘forces’ were after the Slayer, all of hell was! For such an advanced AI Vega was not being very helpful.

He walked out and into him and Elena’s bedroom, reclining into her bed, “Hello, darling.”

She barely opened an eye at his presence, only smiled, “Come here it’s so late. You’ve become a night owl recently.”

Samuel turned to lay on his side and snuggled close to her, loving the feeling of her hair brushing the side of his face. “Sorry the Slayer just made me a bit stressed.” He could sense her about to open her mouth and ask why so he cut her off, “Nothing to be concerned about, let’s relax.”

She nodded in agreement, yawned, and slipped off into a deep sleep. Samuel stayed awake longer than he should have.

Chapter 85: The Only Fight the Slayer Can Never Win: A Lovers Quarrel

The first official day on the boat was just the annoyance of getting settled in. The Slayer was whisked away into a dozen meetings he got home late.

“Should we come out soon?” Crüe poked him as he laid in bed exhausted.

The man rubbed his head, “Crüe…” he grumbled, “Just give it a few days.”

The next day was similar. Except the Slayer got home earlier and was furious at all the meetings he was going to.

“It’s all the same shit! They call me in and go ‘Well mister Slayer what are your plans on handling the Atlantic facility?’ If I talk broadly they ask specifics, if I talk too specifically they ask me to be broad! Fuck!” He was pacing around and had barely touched the pizza Crüe made.

“It’s been boring here, just manning the fort. Do you think I could come to some meetings?” Crüe asked while nibbling on the pizza, worried about the Slayer. He has been watching so many documentaries about earth he was beginning to fear he would run out soon.

The man rolled his eyes and sat down grabbing a slice and pulling it onto his plate, “Sure maybe you’ll be better at it. No touching or PDA or baby talk-“

“Slayer, I know.” Crüe corrected the man and shot him a glare. He wasn’t sure if he was more annoyed at the Slayer reminding him of a rule he never broke or the fact that the man had stopped talking about coming out as a couple.

The next day they attended the deluge of meetings together. Samuel and Elena would be in some of them. The Slayer was cold in them, not wanting to be tied to the marauder in any way beyond brothers in arms.

When they got home they had to be fitted for suits for that wedding. The Slayer mentioned dancing together back into their old apartment. “So will we be tearing up the dance floor in these?” Crüe asked as a tailor held up some fabric to add to his pant legs, matching it perfectly.

The Slayer didn’t respond, just tipped his head toward the man in the room, “We can talk about that later.”

The demon just nodded and stared at himself in the mirror. He looked tired. Crüe stayed out of meetings for the next two days. Finally, five days into their stay on the boat, he asked again when they were alone. “Are we going to dance at the wedding?”

“Sure if you want.” The Slayer was hunched over the coffee table, slaving away at some paperwork.

“Should we practice?” He was desperate for the man’s touch. They hadn’t fucked since they got on this cursed ship. The man was always tired and never had time. What the hell was happening?

“It’s not formal dancing at a wedding you can just do whatever, besides I’m neck deep in this stupid shit. It’s ridiculous. They want me to outline weaknesses of every demon I’ve encountered and give them a whole stack of reports. This is an intern’s work!” He ranted and raved.

Crüe sat on the other side of the couch, petting Haru’s head. At least that cat didn’t have to fight for space on his lap.

Two more days passed, Crüe asked about dancing but was met with the same non answer. He picked up their tuxes or suits or whatever and hung them nicely in the closet. He stood in their bedroom for a while, looking around at the bleak, boring area. Finally, he walked out into the living room and sat down beside the man who was doing some stupid paperwork. Crüe wondered if he got that paperwork tattooed on his skin if the Slayer would finally acknowledge him again. He knew he was being dramatic but the constant dismissive attitude towards him was not something he was pleased with.

Daisy walked up to the Slayer and handed him a squeaky toy, begging him to toss it for her.

He shook his head, “I love you, but I’m busy.”

“Here Daisy come here, I’ll throw it for you.” Crüe took it out of her jaw and threw it towards the hallway door.

She darted around the coffee table after it. Her kids leapt on the coffee table and knocked over their vase.

“Dammit! Orca, Missy, get the hell off there!” The Slayer shouted at them, sending the squabs shuffling off the table and running into Daisy’s arms.

“Christ, chill out! The vase can handle a good walloping!” Crüe shouted back at him. He walked over and set it back up and put their trinkets back in it. He sat down on the couch, pissed off and absolutely dreading the wedding that was happening tomorrow. A week passed on the boat like it was nothing.

When it was finally time for bed, the Slayer was already showered and laying down staring at his phone. Crüe slipped into bed beside him, but quickly changed course and straddled the man’s lap. “Slayer, I miss you.”

The man put down his phone and looked up at Crüe. “I just need a few more days to figure everything out with this stuff. Then we’ll hang out.”

Crüe grasped the man’s deltoids and rubbed them slowly. “Why can’t you tell ARC that you’re the Slayer and you don’t do stupid paperwork? I’ve never seen you so willing to kiss a corporation’s boot before.”

“This is different. They are risking a lot of people’s lives for these missions. I want to at least tell them what I know.” The Slayer’s phone beeped and he grabbed it, checking his email at yet another updated battle plan he had been sent.

Crüe just crawled off him and laid down, facing away from him so the bright phone light wasn’t in his eyes. “All I’m saying is you promised to have us come out as a couple and to dance at the wedding.”

“We will!” The Skayer looked away from his phone and reached over squeezing the marauder’s hand, “I promise.”

Eventually they fell asleep.

The morning flew past and now the wedding was happening in roughly forty five minutes.

“Slayer hurry up in the bathroom. I need you to help me put this stupid tie on!” Crüe pounded on the door and paced around.

He stepped out and smiled at Crüe, “Daisy are you ready and Haru are you gonna be ok watching the kids?”

They looked over to see the cat frantically shaking his head “No” and Daisy putting a bracelet on her one hand and a pretty necklace over her collar. She grinned and wiggled her wings with happiness, “Ooh I chuffed!”

The Slayer opened the door and grabbed Crüe by the vest and pulled him in. He quickly tied his tie and gave him a sweet little pat on the shoulder. He leaned in to whisper into his ear, “This suit fits you good. You look nice.”

A little laugh escaped him and he leaned into the Slayer’s touch. “Nice enough to dance with later this evening?”

The man swayed into his touch, his hands running over the knot in the tie. He kept his voice low, “Of course, maybe we’ll even have some fun when we get home.”

Crüe smiled at that and pulled away content with that answer. His face red with a blush and he turned away. It was nice to see his old Slayer again. Maybe it was just the stress of paperwork and a new area, he had been off ever since they got here.

Samuel opened their door and poked his head in, “Are you idiots ready? Oh wow you all actually look presentable.” He gave all of them a quick nod of approval.

Daisy smooched the top of her squabs heads as well as Haru who wailed and protested, before she scurried out of the room. The Slayer and marauder were quick to follow and they headed up towards the main deck where the ceremony was taking place.

“Elena’s already up there helping set a few decorations up. I guess one of the scientists getting married was an old lab partner of hers.” Samuel seemed actually excited about this whole thing which was rather shocking.

They got on an elevator and were up to the main deck in no time, taking a seat further back in the pews that had been set up. A few people were sitting, the majority standing and milling about chatting about any and everything. Samuel and the Slayer got on some topic, leaving Crüe and Daisy to their own thoughts.

The demon looked all around the main deck. It was a really pretty place to get married. The huge windows of the main deck looked amazing as a backdrop. There were bouquets of white flowers in vases and spread everywhere the humans could reach. White fabric hung from the ceiling or was stretched between the work stations. Even the pews looked nice, black wood polished with only a handful of scratches on it, though they were rather uncomfortable.

Crüe didn’t see any goblets of blood, or a feasting carcass, or even a sacrificial pit. Maybe that was just a hell thing, though a wedding without a sacrificial pit would be rather dull.

Daisy seemed to have a similar complaint, “No wall of sheds! No scutes, no horns?”

“I don’t think humans have either of those, but it is a bit weird to not even show off your baby teeth.” He looked around some more, but finally decided that there was in fact not a wall of sheds.

Samuel leaned over, “What is a wall of sheds?”

“The two demons are supposed to take things that were a part of them. So like a shed horn, or shed skin, or teeth, or limbs, and nail them onto a wall.” Crüe tried to explain it, but from the look on the Slayer’s face it wasn’t right.

“Like a scrapbook?” Samuel offered. “That kind of makes sense.”

He shook his head, confused at how that could make any sense, “Oh no a scab book is filled with picked off scabs, those are more for funerals though.”

The Slayer squinted his eyes and shook his head, “Yeah I don’t think us humans have either of those?” He looked at Samuel for guidance but the robot shrugged.

“No binding souls?” Crüe asked.

“Definitely not.” The Slayer laughed, “These hell weddings sound awesome.”

Crüe spoke up, just sort of speaking out loud, “I like this sort of wedding better than the demonic ones though. It’s so much more casual and laid back. Demon weddings are too huge of an affair; a short one might take a week to finish!”

The Slayer let out a whimper like a kicked dog, “A whole week?”

“It’s like a huge party and all these ceremonies, it’s fun. Also you get your souls bound by hell energy which is interesting to watch.” Crüe chatted happily about his experiences, he had been to quite a few weddings as part of his battalion.

“What does that do?” Samuel asked curiously.

“Physically nothing, but spiritually it’s a big deal.” He chuckled and poked the Slayer, “I'd love to see the look on an hell officiant's face if I showed up wanting to have my soul bound to the Slayer.”

Daisy spoke up, “No sacrificial pit? Not even one?”

With a little snort of laughter, the Slayer gave her a fake sad look, “Not even one.”

They continued to discuss the hellish ways to celebrate and compared them to the human ways. In the end Crüe and Daisy had Samuel and the Slayer convinced that every good wedding needed a good sacrificial pit.

Elena sat down next to them and shushed them all as the wedding started.

Crüe was honestly about to fall asleep a few minutes in. It felt less like a celebration and more like watching someone else do paperwork. He kept stealing glances at the Slayer who was very intent on looking straight ahead and not making eye contact. Maybe this was the way humans showed their love, by being assholes and doing boring fucking paperwork. He snapped himself out of his thoughts but was still fuming a bit.

He sort of already knew how tonight was going to end, the Slayer was going to keep putting off dancing with him, and he was going to be a mess. He supposed this was their first major disagreement that didn’t involve being high on moldy demon wine. He was promised they’d come out on the ship, then he stopped talking about that the minute they set foot on it. He then started talking about how they’d dance the night away at the wedding, then if felt like barely wanted to talk about the wedding.

But then today, just as they were about to leave, he was happy as a clam, talking about dancing and fucking later tonight. All he could do was wait and see what was going to happen, but he was already lamenting his doom. He felt itchy in his clothes and hearing vows of love was not helping his mind.

Daisy must have felt his worried jittering and overthinking. She put her hand on his and looked up at him. It helped distract him and he mindlessly listened to the rest of the ceremony.

Once it was over and the “I do’s” were said everyone shuffled down to the reception. Tables of food were laid out, a dance floor was being swept, a bunch of fancy tables had labeled name cards.

The room was beautiful and one wall was lined with big windows and bright red curtains that looked like waterfalls of blood. There was even a large balcony that was wide open, letting in an inviting breeze.

Elena smiled and pulled them along, finding their table and their name cards. They sat and chatted, a bit. Crüe’s anxiousness had worn off once he got a bit of wine in his belly. A few plates of food later, some bride and groom cake smashing (which Crüe explained was sort of similar to a sacrificial pit), and music started playing. People slowly drifted out to the dance floor.

They continued chatting, Samuel kept both Daisy and Crüe quite occupied with questions about hell, he had even broken out a tablet and was writing stuff down. The Slayer was discussing missions with Elena. Finally the robot tapped Crüe’s side and slyly offered two cigarettes to Crüe and whispered in his ear, “Why don’t you and your boy toy relax on the balcony? I’d like to dance with Elena.”

He plucked her away from the Slayer and Crüe held up the cigarettes. The man turned, “Daisy, stay here. Make sure no one steals our food.” He winked at her and gave her a warm smile. The man took the cigarette and they walked out onto the balcony together. Surprisingly for such a nice night it was empty, though there was a colder wind. “See the door frame, I’ve been wanting to look at it all night. This whole balcony slides in and- look at how thick.” He touched the frame and moved the curtains aside showing a giant mechanism that would slide the door shut.

Crüe lit up his cigarette, and took a long draw before exhaling, putting him in a cloud of smoke, “We aren’t gonna dance or come out as a couple are we?”

The Slayer looked at the mechanism for a little longer then pulled away letting the curtain fall over it, hiding its ugly interior. He lit up his cigarette and mirrored Crüe’s actions, leaning against the railing. When he finally exhaled he gave the man an odd look, “I mean I think that’s best, you know. It’s just easier-“

“You mean it’s easier for you.” He leaned forwards, pointing at him with the cigarette and emphasizing the last word. “It’s not what’s best, it's what you want.”

The Slayer gave him a glare, “If you want to come out we can do it, but-“

Crüe cut him off with some malice in his voice, “But what? No matter what you say you back out at the last minute. You'll say you want to wait until we go on our first mission here then it will be until a week after because you’ll say you're too tired?”

The balcony was now suddenly a war zone. He took another draw, and squeezed his eyes shut. “I just get such bad anxiety about the thought of everyone knowing about us. I don’t want it to be out of our control. It’s not like we can just put it back, once it’s out, it’s out.”

“You promised that we would dance tonight. It was your fucking idea! You’ve been going back on everything recently, everything!” Crüe angrily gripped the railing. “We have barely even talked since we’ve got on this damn ship! I mean what is happening?”

“We can’t dance at this wedding.” The Slayer admitted, “It would take away from the bride and groom; it would be too awkward. I decided during the ceremony.”

“You didn’t decide then, you decided days ago and left me in the dark!” Crüe tossed his cigarette off the boat and started pacing around the balcony, “You can’t just decide, you have to consult me. You have to come through on your promises cause I’m sick of being either left in the dark or having you lie in my face. I’ve been left in the apartment almost the entire time we’ve been here!”

“It’s-“

“We’re are supposed to be a fuckin team!” Crüe pleaded with him.

The Slayer shook his head, and took another draw, “If we want to be a team you have to work with me on shit. Don’t be a dick to me when I’m trying to do what’s best for us! You don’t know what I have to do to protect us.” He grabbed the demon’s shoulder, “Stop trying to force me into this.”

“DON’T TOUCH ME!” He snapped and screamed in the Slayer’s face, the man withdrew and took a few steps back, his voice shrinking to a sharp angry whisper. “You fucking lied to me!I’m sick of putting in all this…” he let out a shout of rage and swung his arms out, “effort! Do you even care about me anymore?”

The Slayer stood shocked, his throat bobbing. “I- I…” he looked over to the side and saw quite a few people from the wedding looking back at him. The music was dimmed and Samuel was shoving past people on the dance floor to rush over and provide some damage control. He was frozen in fear and had no response to the marauder.

That enraged him even more and he hissed under his breath, “Coward.” Crüe stalked off, but not before shouting at a waiter and grabbing two wine bottles off a server's tray and slamming the door to the reception behind him.

That single word stung more than getting split wide open by the Icon of sin.

Samuel grabbed him and quickly walked him into the bathroom, trying to shield the Slayer from the staring crowd as much as possible. “What the fuck just happened?” He locked the door behind him and glared at the man.

The Slayer was glad the bathroom was only a single one and didn’t have any stalls or he likely would have hidden in one till the end of time. He sat down on the floor, putting his head between his legs. He explained their conversation with fear in his eyes, “Oh god I pissed him off.”

Samuel pinched the nonexistent bridge of his nose upon hearing the man’s explanation, “So you kept pushing shit back and then told him to fuck off and that you would handle everything? You’re a dick!”

“I was scared about us coming out as a couple!” He argued back. “Oh god did you see how they all were staring at us?”

Samuel started pacing, “I'm getting Elena this is out of my depth.” He opened the door and was relieved to find her right outside. He explained the situation as she came into the bathroom and sat beside the Slayer.

She touched the man’s shoulder, “So you just had a little lovers quarrel, that’s not so bad. It happens to the best of us.”

He wasn’t bawling or anything, but he rubbed at his forehead, and seemed on the verge of crying, “I just want him to see what I’m trying to explain.”

Elena bit her lip, “Well, then you have to explain it to him. You can’t lead him to think you’re gonna dance the night away; then expect him to sit at a table all night.” She shifted again, “If he wants to be out as a couple I don’t think that would be so bad. You have been together for a while.”

“Longer than we have.” Samuel butted in. “He probably wants to do stuff with you.”

Them walking together to get the vase was the first thing that came to mind, that distance between them… was that how Crüe felt now? The Slayer was beginning to realize how badly he fucked up. “I think I should head back to my room.”

“No, stay a little longer, let him get settled in and blow off some steam.” Elena patted his shoulder, “Everyone out there is dancing and nearly black out drunk no one is gonna give you shit about him yelling. Don’t worry about upstaging the bride and groom. They are fucking in the pantry as we speak. Come on.” She extended her hand and the Slayer took it.

Crüe was clutching the bottles of wine as he angrily mashed the buttons on an elevator. As soon as the doors were open he was inside and pressing the button to close them.

“Wait!” Daisy’s arm shot into the gap and the doors sprung back open. She walked in and awkwardly sat in the corner.

The demon didn’t say anything, he just hoped Daisy wasn't going to be the Slayer’s mouthpiece. It seemed like she wasn’t, she just sat there picking her cuticles. He found himself starting to crumble in the elevator, and despite his best efforts his breath trembled.

As they got off and rushed back to the apartment he fell more and more undone. As he shut the door, locking it, he burst into tears. “DAMMIT, DAMMIT!” He ripped the cork out of one of the wine bottles and chugged as much of it down as he could. Gasping for air when he was done.

Daisy grabbed her kiddos and shoved them in the bathroom, locking the door. She didn’t want them hearing all the chaos and fighting.

He practically collapsed onto the couch, splattering wine over its arm. He couldn’t fucking believe what had happened. His mind swam with the words the Slayer hissed at him. It didn’t matter, now he was in the middle of the fucking ocean with someone who didn’t even want to give him the time of day. He felt gentle paws hop up onto the couch and latch onto him, “Haru…”

The cat shuffled its way onto his lap and looked up at him with concern in his eyes. He tried to scold the man for being with the Slayer but that made Crüe shove him off his lap.

“Don’t fucking lecture me over this! Everything had been perfect for months then as soon as we got on this fucking boat everything goes to shit!” He stood up and took another gulp of wine, “He lied to me, lied right to my fucking face earlier-“ he cut himself off mid thought, “Haru he thinks I’m not being a “team player” cause I don’t want to be stuck inside like a god damn live in maid! I don’t want to be his fucking roommate I want to be his boyfriend!”

The cat tried to offer going back to hell as a solution.

Crüe snapped on him, “That’s not even remotely a fucking choice! I still love him! Besides, we'd be gutted alive!”

Haru shrugged and merely offered up the fact that it didn’t sound like the Slayer liked him back.

The cat did that to prod Crüe, to get him to fight back, to think about his relationship with the Slayer. He expected the man would explode in a screaming fit at the cat and defend him and the Slayer.

Crüe just looked down and took another swig of wine. He muttered something unintelligible and held his head. The sheer look of defeat that came over him was depressing.

Haru immediately tried to go back, insisting that he was just being dramatic and of course the Slayer still cared, but Crüe silenced him with a wave of his hand.

“Haru just stop, shut up.” He picked up their little vase that was proudly displayed on the coffee table. He rolled it over in his hand, looking at all the little trinkets they collected. All of them felt worthless. Every receipt from a restaurant or bar tab always had someone else’s food and drink on it. It was never just them. The only thing they had done alone without a watchful guardian or friend was being unconscious represented by their hospital bracelets. He tossed it in the kitchen sink

He just didn’t want to look at it, but the glass vase finally gave in and it exploded into a thousand shards of glass.

He flinched, feeling sick to his stomach. Crüe walked into the other bedroom and laid down, staring up at the ceiling. Haru followed him in, sitting next to him. He just cried and held his aching head. Daisy came in with her squabs and locked the door behind her. “Just rest. Me and cat watch over you.”

He nodded and felt the squabs rest their tiny heads against his arms. He didn’t know what was going to happen, he didn’t want to sleep and wake up to find out what fresh hell awaited him in the morning.

Chapter 86: Isolation: AKA How Not to Handle Being Anxious

It was 3 AM the party wasn’t stopping but the Slayer had been sitting in his chair looking like a dolled up corpse for over an hour. He was pretty sure he had gone to the bathroom and emptied out his stomach a half dozen times, and couldn’t get the taste of the acid out of his mouth.

He hadn’t even touched a drop of alcohol, it was all nerves and crippling fear. He wanted to go home, he wanted to cry. All he could think of was how much of a dick he had been to the marauder. Why didn’t he just fucking talk to him? He had a whole week once they got on the boat, but he pussy footed around everything. He went to meetings instead of making sure Crüe was ok, hell, they hadn’t even been intimate. His stomach clenched but he pushed through it.

No wonder Crüe lashed out and yelled, he felt like he was being abandoned.

He felt a pressure on the back of his chair and turned to see Samuel leaning down over the back, looking right at him. “We are heading home. Follow us.”

The Slayer walked alongside them down a flight of stairs and back to his room, “Do you think I should go in?” He looked back at them nervously. “What if-“

Samuel wanted to hang out with Elena and didn’t want the Slayer moping around his apartment, “You’ll only make it worse if you leave him and sleep somewhere else.”

Elena reached out and touched the Slayer’s shoulder, “Don’t run from this.” Her and Samuel quickly pulled away and hurried off before he could try and respond.

The Slayer opened the door and stepped inside, he endeavored to make as little noise as humanly possible. He bumped into the wall as he took his dress shoes off and paused for a minute to make sure no one had been awoken. He saw every door was open except for the guest bedroom and promptly avoided that entire section of the apartment. First, he brushed his teeth which helped with the taste of stomach acid in his mouth. He slowly crept over to their room- well the empty room that Crüe wasn’t holed up in. As he put his foot down, searing pain leapt through him.

He gripped the counter. When he lifted his foot up it revealed a shard of glass stuck in the middle of his foot. He yanked it out and went to toss it in the sink.

His heart sank like a rock. Their vase was shattered. All the trinkets had been waterlogged and ruined in the bottom of the wet sink. His fingernails dug into the counter and he let out a sad little noise, “Shit.” He whispered. He looked towards the door, doubting if he was making the right choice by coming home. He pulled away and decided to stop the blood dripping onto the wood floor rather than lament over what he honestly wasn’t sure he could fix. A bit of gauze and his foot was back in working order. He collapsed into bed and stared at the ceiling.

Despite all his usual amounts of rage and fiery emotions, he just felt numb. He wanted to wake Crüe up and desperately explain how he was wrong, how he lied and he wouldn’t do it again. He’d rather face the fear of coming out than lose Crüe, how was he so stupid he didn’t realize that before? He had been so angry about stupid ARC meetings and he took it out on Crüe. Christ the demon had even gone to a few meetings and tried to help, and he acted like a dick the entire time.

The anxiety of the missions, the meetings, and ARC had eclipsed his view. Not even mentioning moving and the thoughts of Vega that bounced around his mind, stopping him from seeing Crüe so painfully alone right in front of him.

He remembered how lonely the fortress had felt before he had Daisy or Crüe. How the aching feeling of loneliness would settle in his bones every night. He put that same feeling on Crüe and he wasn’t sure how he could make it up to the demon.

He felt something jump up on the bed and he leapt up shaking the covers off him as he expected it was Haru about to kill him. It was Crüe. “I am so-“ the Slayer couldn’t get the words out before Crüe shook his head.

The demon was sitting on the side of the bed, he wasn’t looking at the Slayer, but the open door. “I couldn’t sleep and I figured you wouldn’t be able to either.” As soon as his drunkenness had worn off he laid awake with insomnia. “I heard the water running when you were in the bathroom.” His hands absentmindedly rubbed their bed, feeling the fabric of the covers.

The silence between them was deafening. They both looked pathetic and sickly. The Slayer could barely believe that Crüe was in front of him. He just wanted to apologize, but he knew that wouldn’t help. He needed to make up for tonight and the past week.

The demon didn’t look at him, “Do you still love me?”

He responded immediately, “I do. I’m just a real fuckin idiot about making sure your happy.” The man couldn’t even describe how much he cherished the marauder. That demon was his life, his love, his everything.

Crüe didn’t really respond. The Slayer could sweet talk him silly, but he wanted him to prove that he would carry through.

Fear had him in a stranglehold, but he straightened his back and took out his phone. The Slayer for once in his life spoke up, “May I have this dance with you?” He tapped his phone’s screen and some gentle slow song started to play.

Crüe looked away from the door and at the frazzled looking man.

He met his gaze, but couldn’t read the emotions on his face. “I just figured, we’re still in our fancy clothes.” He got off the bed and stood in front of the marauder, offering out his hand.

The demon took it and stood as well, a smile coming up on his face. “Sorry if I step on your feet like last time.”

His hands went up on the demon’s shoulders, and Crüe’s went down to touch his waist, pulling him in. They swayed slowly, more like two old creaking trees than lovers.

Their eyes were locked in on each other. Crüe could see the tears gathering in the corners of the Slayer’s eyes. He gave his hip a little squeeze, hoping to calm him. “I shouldn’t have yelled like that.”

The Slayer pulled his hand away to wipe his tears on his sleeve. He laughed and shook his head as he put it back. “No, you should have yelled at me earlier, knocked some sense into me. I shouldn’t have lied and ignored you.”

“Hey,” he gave him a soft look, “If you need more time, I get it. I just need you to tell me what’s happening and if you’re scared.” He slowly began to dance with the Slayer, narrowly missing his toes. “You have to talk to me.”

“I’ve had enough time,” he leaned his head against the demon, his feet remembering long forgotten dances, “I know I want to be with you. I love you. I’m scared still, sure, but I’m letting everyone know tomorrow. I’ll start shouting it at the first news reporter lookin’ person I see.”

Crüe’s face scrunched up in a laugh and the Slayer looked up at him like he was angelic. “Thank you.” The melody soothed his aching skull, it made him feel more human than demon. The Slayer did still care about him and that was all he needed, as long as there was still love and communication. A few tears escaped his eyes, and he pulled the Slayer in close. “Nothing’s simple anymore.”

“Mhmm, it never has been. We’ve always been fighting the universe for every second together.” The Slayer leaned over and kissed his bicep, “but I wouldn’t have my life any other way. Even if I can be a distant, scared idiot sometimes.” The song ended abruptly and cut to an ad for a razor. The Slayer left the marauders arms and shut it off quickly.

They both stood there in the dark looking at each other. Crüe spoke up first. “I don’t want there to be anymore of you acting like we are just roommates. If you have to go to meetings I’m coming with you as a partner, not a friend, or brother in arms.”

The Slayer nodded and felt a tear roll down his face, “I promise. I swear on my life that this will never happen again.”

Crüe felt his charred remainder of lip quiver, “It’s about damn time.”

The Slayer just nodded yet again and started undoing his tie, “You want to get out of these awful tuxedos? I feel like I’m being suffocated. It's so tight.”

The demon motioned to his height, “These things ain’t built for a demon like me.”

They took off their clothes down to undershirts and boxers, not wanting to go any farther. The Slayer laid down in bed making sure he was confined to his side and that Crüe had plenty of room.

The demon reached over and pulled him to his side snuggling into his neck, “You don’t have to hide Slayer, just keep me in the loop, please?”

The man kissed his forehead real quick and smiled, “I’m not ever making that same mistake of hiding from you.”

Crüe wiggled and burrowed into the covers a little more. “What should we do tomorrow? Any thoughts?”

“We could make breakfast, waffles maybe.” He smiled at Crüe, then looked back up at the ceiling, “Beyond that I’m not sure. I think someone wanted to have a meeting with me about a mission, but they can figure that out on their own.”

“Oh rebellious, maybe I am a bad influence on you.” Crüe stretched out in the bed, basking in the attention the Slayer had given him. He forgot how much he missed their little moments, and the thought of having a whole day together… It made him so happy.

The Slayer just laughed at that and they laid in silence for a while. The faint noise of Crüe snoring was what broke the silence. The man turned his head and kissed the demon’s forehead, his lips brushing against one of his small horns. He laid back down and eventually drifted off to sleep, a lot more hopeful about the morning.

Chapter 87: Worried Over Nothing

When Haru awoke and Crüe wasn’t curled up next to him, he jolted upright. The fur on one side of his face was matted from the bed and he looked around frantically. He worried that he had gone too far last night, and hurt the man too much.

He leapt off the bed and darted out into the kitchen. Both Crüe and the Slayer were sitting on the couch, watching a video on one of their phones. He leapt up on the coffee table, back arched and tail puffed out. He yowled like he was about to go to war, what was the Slayer doing sitting next to the marauder?

The demon was leaning his head on the man’s Shoulder, but bolted upright and drew in a breath to talk to Haru. “It’s ok Haru relax!”

The cat was not convinced and paced around on the coffee table like a lion, a low horrific growl echoing from him.

“We made up last night, he apologized, I apologized. All's right with the world. Relax.” Crüe scolded him and turned to rub his head, “The only bad thing is this fucking hangover, dammit.”

“Can I talk to him?” The Slayer leaned over and asked Crüe. He seemed oddly shy about asking.

The man rolled his eyes, “I mean sure, but he’s probably just going to attack you. Scream if you need me.”

The man stood and patted his leg, “Come on, follow me.”

Haru stayed on the coffee table, glaring at the man.

“He says you have to carry him.” Crüe paused the video they were watching, and took a sip of water.

He walked over to the kitchen and pulled out two over mitts, “Ok two can play at that game.” He carefully scooped the cat up, who immediately started biting the shit out of his mitts, and rushed him into the bedroom.

He set him down on the bed but Haru sprung up and tried to lunge for his face. “Stop, listen! I know you don’t like me but give me a little chance!”

The cat paused for a moment, and stood on the bed.

“Ok, so listen.” The man squatted down to be a bit below the cat's height. “I’ve been a real fuckin asshole and a huge idiot. I get why you ain’t so fond of me.”

Haru hissed at him and swung his paw out, trying to bat at the man’s eyeballs.

The Slayer pulled back, “And if I ever pull something like that again you can bite the shit out of me, scratch me, I don’t care. I want you to know that I do really love Crüe.”

The cat screamed right in his face but he didn’t pull back.

The Slayer voice faded to a whisper, “I know, I know I’ve been awful at showing it recently. I promise I ain’t gonna break his heart, or play with his feelings anymore.” The man paused, trying to think of how to say what he wanted to, “He mentioned to me this morning while we ate waffles that you told him to go back to hell. He was all upset and worried about it. I wanted to let you know that I have an account set up for him.”

Haru stopped screaming and seemed interested. He leaned in closer and gave the man sort of a “tell me everything” glare.

The Slayer nodded and kept whispering, “Half my paycheck for killing demons goes into it. If we were to ever break up or I’d die-“

His ears perked up at hearing that, and he meowed with a grin.

“I don’t plan on dying anytime soon, asshole!” He scolded him and continued, “He’d have a nice chunk of cash to get an apartment and get on his feet. Neither of you would have to suffer or worry about where you would go, ok? Of course ARC would take care of you both too.”

Haru seemed pleased, but it was sort of hard to tell with his perpetually uninterested cat looking face.

“It’s still smaller than I wanted cause I started it not so long ago, so I haven’t told him yet.” The man tried to search the cat's face for any sign of happiness.

Haru leaned back examining the man’s face right back, he licked his chest and continued thinking. He was content the Slayer actually was planning things out and making sure Crüe had a chance to walk away if he truly wanted to. Though the demon was an idiot; you’d have to physically detach him from the Slayer.

“I’m not usually this much of an idiot, I swear.” The man held out his hands at his sides. “I just got overwhelmed by how stupid human stuff is and I lost sight of everyone.”

At this point in the conversation Haru wasn’t listening, he was looking at the Slayer's clean shaven face and wondered what he’d look like with a beard. He was actually impressed with the man and could see why Crüe had picked him. He was caring, but if he ever slipped up again, he would be gutted alive. He hopped off the bed and waited for the Slayer to open the door before walking out to Crüe.

The Slayer sat down and he smiled at him. “See I tamed the beast, slightly.” He tossed the oven mitts on the table, too lazy to put them back.

Haru of course immediately told the demon everything through their connection, making the demon’s eyes widen for a moment, but he kept the cat’s secret.

Daisy padded out of the room, her children in tow, “Are all friends again?” Her children came out behind her on wobbly, groggy legs. She hopped on the edge of the couch, and perched, stretching her wings out. Before the Slayer could open his mouth to ramble on she cut him off, “You two get out, live in the world a bit today? I want Haru to teach dearies to hunt.”

The Slayer nodded, happy that Daisy was being his wingman. “That sounds like a great idea. Let me get on a nicer shirt than this.”

A few minutes later they were out of the house and walking up to the big cafeteria together. Just as they were about to turn down a hallway, the Slayer reached out and grabbed the demon's hand.

The action actually startled Crüe, but he smiled and leaned into it. Sadly, there was no one at all in the hallway. It was completely barren of life.

They are in the cafeteria side by side, practically joined at the hip. They even shared food and no one really cared because the cafeteria was basically barren as well. The Slayer was happily indulging in being so close to his lover while Crüe was over the moon. He felt like an idiot a bit, he had been so worried over… nothing.

Once they finished they sort of just wandered around the boat, going up onto the outside deck and exploring a greenhouse the science nerds had built. The heat made the Slayer clothes stick to his back, “I wish we could swim. It’s hotter than hell in here.”

The demon nodded, wiping sweat off his forehead, “These plants are pretty boring.”

They wandered around more and asked a few people. There actually was a pool. It was just all the way down in the hull of the boat. They rushed down, getting colder and colder as they descended. After walking down a maintenance hall they actually found it. It was the ugliest, rectangular, military-esque pool they had ever laid eyes on. The Slayer would have thought it was some part of the boat cooling system if it wasn’t for a no diving sign on a nearby column.

Crüe started stripping, “Well I guess we’ll be alone.”

The Slayer was quite perturbed that the one time he did want people to see him doting on the demon, no one was around. “Skinny dipping? I can’t say no to that.” He removed his shirt and pants and stood in his underwear, looking around to make sure no one was watching before removing them. He sat on the side of the pool, dipping his legs into the cool water.

Despite the industrial, grimy look of everything, it was oddly calming. The Slayer felt like every worry he ever had left his body as he slipped down into the water more and more. Of course the marauder was also getting naked and that always made the Slayer happy.

He slipped down into the water the rest of the way and Crüe crouched down behind him, kissing his neck.

“I’m very glad it’s just you and me down here.” He hopped into the water beside the man, splashing him. “God, we haven’t swam in forever. It feels so weird.” He still walked awkwardly in the water, his looming stature just didn’t look right.

Since the Slayer was much more of a manlet, he was dwarfed by the demon, but that was standard. “Remember how cold it was, how we slept together after getting out of the pool last time.”

Crüe let out a low, throaty noise, “Oh yes. I’m certain I fell in love with you in that pool.” It made him feel drunk to remember all those emotions and all those passionate embraces. “Also don’t worry about tracking down a reporter or something. We will just live our lives and if people find us out then so be it.” He leaned down and kissed the Slayer’s head.

“So we don’t come out like guns blazing, we just see what happens?” The man nodded, “Whatever you want. I’m down for anything.”

They continued floating around in the pool, the man laid on his back and gently paddled his arms to stay in place. Crüe dipped his head down in the water and brought it up, enjoying the feeling of it rushing down his horns. He was taking very special attention to not get hard. The Slayer seemed to be having no issue, but casting frequent glances at the man’s dick was not helping the demon very much. It also made him a little insecure, he knew dicks had minds of their own but the man wasn’t even a little hard? He realized that was just anxiety talking so he distracted himself, “I think I like hell’s climate better than earth’s or the sentinel world’s. I’m not a fan of the humidity.”

The Slayer looked over at him, “The humidity is nice, makes me feel like I’m a little frog. It’s how I know I’m safe.”

His dick twitched as soon as the Slayer looked at him and Crüe blushed, “So I should mist you like a little amphibian from time to time?” He scooped the man up in his claws.

The man let out a content hum and the demon held him close, “That would be nice. I love you Crüe.”

The demon leaned down and kissed the man, winding his claws hands into his hair and pulling him in deep. He finally pulled away breathless. “I love you too, Slayer.”

Chapter 88: (NSFW) Pain In My Ass

Notes:

TW: Smut Though It's Pretty Goofy

It was 10:00 PM, Daisy and her kids had just gone down to the pool to take a late night swim, Haru had decided to stalk the ship hunting mice, they called Samuel and found that Elena and him were going to be “working” in the lab late that night. It was perfect, finally a night for just them, all alone.

The Slayer was excitedly lighting some candles Crüe had brought and pouring some glasses of wine. He was taking attention to every detail like a mother hen, he wanted this to be perfect. He did go light on the wine though, not wanting to get another hangover. Crüe was in the bathroom cleaning and prepping a few toys he had selected. He very quickly realized that he bought way too many sex toys right off the bat. At this rate it would take them forever to get through them. Not to mention they were much cheaper in quality than they expected.

The Slayer walked into the bathroom and hugged him from behind, “Hurry up I want you.” He pleaded, absolutely ravenous for a good fuck. After they got back from the pool the man had been a depraved beast, he never felt this turned on in his life. His hands ran down the nearly naked skin of the marauder’s chest, and his fingertips brushed his underwear, wanting to rip them off.

Crüe leaned into his touch and hugged the toys closer to his body, “You ready for this?” He turned to see the Slayer smiling up at him, his eyes trailing down to the toys.

“You got a battle plan for that equipment you’re carrying?” He pulled the demon out of the bathroom and pushed him into the bed. He pulled off his underwear and pinned him down to the sheets by straddling his crotch with his big thighs. His cock stood proud and twitching with want. “That stuff looks interesting.”

Crüe let out a purr of satisfaction, tossing the toys to the side on the bed. “Sit on my face.” He purred. His claws gently tugged the man up and forwards he was very careful about not poking the man with his horns. He felt the Slayer gently shift in the bed and he closed his eyes. When he opened them, the man was looking over him, his dick throbbing above his face.

The Slayer smiled down at him, blushing hard, “I’ll try not to crush you.” He didn’t even get a response, Crüe pressed his tongue against his ass, making him grab at the demon’s horns for leverage. His head leaned back and he found himself grinding against the demon's long tongue. “Fuck,” he moaned out. Despite all the wonderful pleasure he was getting, he kept looking over distracted by the toys. He felt blush form over his face just at the thought of some of them being used.

Crüe was lapping and licking like his life depended on it, he’d occasionally have to pull his head back a little bit to gulp down some air. One hand was resting on the Slayer’s ass and the other was jerking himself off. He couldn't describe the feeling that rushed through him when the Slayer was dominating him in some way. He wanted to be crushed under the man, just pressed into the bed and bred by him. The allure of how strong he was just sent the demon into waves of ecstacy. He felt the Slayer pull up and off of him. He gave him a dazed look and removed his hands from their activities.

“Use some of those toys, I’ve been waiting too long.” He leaned back on the cushy pillows of the bed, sprawled out on his side. One leg rested against the bed while the other was propped up, showing some glistening sweat.

Crüe crawled toward the man, trailing long, sloppy kisses up his leg. He continued up his abdomen and neck until he grabbed the man’s hair and kissed him hard. He leaned over him, their limbs entangled, he seemed to pause for a moment, thinking and considering what to use. “I think I have something you’ll really love.”

The Slayer watched, his breath picking up as the demon reached over on the bed, his claws gently brushing over the variety he pulled out. He settled on a small, plain dildo really the only thing it had going for it was the fact that it was a pretty blue color. The Slayer’s raised an eyebrow at him, “Seems a bit scrawny, doesn’t it?”

The demon turned his head to give the Slayer a smug look, “Hey don’t judge it by its size.”

“It doesn’t even have a flared base.” The man seemed unsure about the dildo and wondered if he should have just kept his mouth shut. His dick on the other hand was throbbing with want, and leaking a bit of pre-cum.

Without hesitation Crüe leaned down and licked the bit of pre off his tip, smiling up at him. “I’m not gonna let go, just trust me, Slayer.” The demon was about to begin when the man stopped him.

“Don’t I get to pick something for you?” He glanced over at the toys, reached out and grabbed a butt plug. It was fairly small and a nice silver color. Crüe agreed on it and the Slayer wasted no time in pinning the demon to the bed and spreading his legs. He smiled at the way Crüe lovingly looked up at him, he lubed it up and pushed it inside the demon.

He was blushing so hard he was lightheaded. The tip of it and halfway down he barely acknowledged, but at it hit that stretch… he let out a moan and then a gasp when he finally felt it pop in. As he sat up, he could feel it shift inside him, brushing up against his sensitive spots. “Now,” He clicked a button on the bottom of it that the Slayer hadn’t even noticed and the dildo sprung to life vibrating. “It's your turn.” Crüe touched it to the inner thigh of the man, interested in his reaction.

“You should have started with the fact it’s a vibrator.” The man shuttered at the vibrations against his skin, his cock flexed and he shifted his hips, “Come on don’t be a tease.” He leaned back, spreading his legs.

Crüe laid beside the man, wrapping one arm around his shoulders and with the other he made sure to grip the vibrator tightly. He wrapped his leg around the man’s, helping to get better access. His hand reached down and he pressed the toy against the man’s ass. He could feel the Slayer groan and quiver under his touch. He thrusted it in more, enjoying the wet sloppy sounds it made against the man. He felt the man clench and relax and mumble praises. He pushed it in more and more, pressing it right against his prostate.

He gasped and dug his hands into Crüe’s arm, his moans were throaty and rough. He thrusted his hips up wanting more. His legs shook, his head lolled back, every movement his body made he could only get more pleasure from it. He reached down and began jerking Crüe off, wrapping his hand around the demon’s warm cock, he heard him moan and almost came on the spot.

Crüe clicked the button again and upped the vibration setting. The Slayer writhed in his arms, twisting and gasping as the pleasure came in a constant hum. As much as Crüe loved being dominated and smothered by the Slayer, this was also just as fantastic. He wasn’t sure if the man had come or not yet, based on the way his eyes rolled back into his skull it looked like he was in a constant, continuous orgasm. He pulled the vibrator out and crawled on top of the Slayer.

The man let out a contented moan as Crüe rubbed the head of his cock against his stretched out hole. He whined out, looking up at the demon.

Crüe eased himself in, listening to the Slayer’s growls of pleasure. He gave a little thrust, admiring the love of his life, sweaty and gasping under him. He proceeded to fuck the Slayer like their lives depended on it, rutting and ramming his hips into the man, watching with glee as his cock bobbed up and down. With every movement he made the plug brushed against his insides, deeper and deeper. He was in fucking heaven. “I’m gonna cum soon.” He choked the words out, his entire body caving into the man’s. His jaws gave the Slayer a little love bite that didn’t even draw blood, and he pulled out, coming on the man’s dick and thighs. As he slumped back, dazed with pleasure, he noticed the man’s belly was coated in his own cum as well, and they laid back gasping for air.

The Slayer felt drunk and exhausted, but also more content than he had ever felt in his entire life. He felt loved, he felt worthy, he felt like Crüe would be by his side forever. He heard a tiny voice in his head. The little voice wanted him to get down on one knee and marry the demon right now. That was dumb, they were still a little rough after their big fight, but god. He didn’t want to walk back down to hell without Crüe by his side in all things.

Crüe had gotten up, and gone to the bathroom. He returned all cleaned up with clothes on and a washcloth for the Slayer. He helped him clean himself up and tucked him into the bed. Then he went out to the kitchen.

The man could feel sweat still sticking to his skin, but he dreaded going into the shower. He wanted to lay down with his love forever. He listened to Crüe digging around for something in the drawers. He rested his eyes and when he opened them the demon was crouching by the bed, petting his head.

“Just open your mouth, there’s a straw.”

He gave him a confused look until he realized the demon had brought him a big, cold glass of water. He took a gulp and felt tears well up in his eyes, but he blinked them away, “Thank you, Crüe.” This demon loved him more than anything.

Crüe wasn’t sitting down in bed and sort of stood awkwardly beside it, looking down at the Slayer, he took his hand off the man’s head. “Hey, do you have a map of the ship?”

“No,” the Slayer shifted under the mound of covers, upset that the demon had removed his hand from his head. “What would I have that?”

The demon laughed and shrugged in a very cutesy joking way, “No problem I was just wondering.” He just sort of stood awkwardly, looking around.

The Slayer snuggled deeper into the covers then he stopped dead, opening his eyes and glaring at Crüe. “Wait,” He then squinted them slightly and continued staring, “Why would you need a map?”

The demon sighed, “Ok you caught me I was gonna get you a snack from the cafeteria. I just wanted to make sure I didn’t get lost.” He continued standing and staring down at the Slayer.

“The cafeteria is closed,” he pointed an accusing finger at the man, “Get to bed I want to snuggle you.” He sat up and lifted up the covers. He was sort of shocked when the demon didn’t immediately hop in. “Oh you wanna be difficult?” The man smiled at him and laid down. He honestly would probably fall asleep if he attempted to wrestle the demon into bed. He gave Crüe a look, “Is everything ok?”

The marauder grinned at him, “Of course!”

He laid there for a moment, thinking, “Do you still have that plug in you?”

Crüe shook his head, “Yup.”

“Why don’t you take that out right here. Give me a little show, ay?” He rolled over to face the demon. “Or is that what you were planning on doing and that’s why you’ve been standing there?”

Instead of the demon leaning against the wall, spreading his beefy legs and moaning and straining to pull out the plug, like the Slayer was expecting, Crüe pulled the plug part out of his pocket, the teardrop shaped part gone.

Like lightning the man was up and out of bed, rushing to put on clothes, “Holy fuck!”

“I went to get it out and I felt the plug part pull away from… well I guess the butt part.” Crüe stood awkwardly and the Slayer saw he had been standing that way because he had something up his ass. “I got like a twelve pack for like ten dollars so that’s probably why it broke.”

The Slayer was wigging the fuck out, he was scared for Crüe, he was scared to have to take him to the infirmary, he was scared that maybe it was poking his insides in bad ways. “You seem way too fucking calm for this. Am I freaking out too much? I feel like I’m freaking out the normal amount. Crüe are you ok? Did you try to get it out? Oh my god you were taking care of me with the butt of the buttplug stuck inside you?”

Crüe waddled over to the man and put his hands on his shoulders. “Relax. I’m ok. I can’t get it so we’ll just find our way to the infirmary, scurry in, and get it taken out. Simple as that, just a little equipment malfunction.”

“Oh Jesus fucking Christ.” The Slayer just closed his eyes and sagged into Crüe. He couldn’t believe this was happening. He shouldn’t have picked that plug; it didn't even have much weight to it. He pulled away from him and groaned, “Well let’s find the med bay.”

A short walk later and they were both awkwardly standing in an examination room, twiddling their thumbs. Crüe insisted the Slayer be there with him and the Slayer, of course, would never say no to a request like that. As they left the infirmary, Crüe with much more pep in his step and much less broken sex toy in his ass, the Slayer attempted to erase his memory of the last twenty minutes they spent in there.

“You know…” Crüe spoke out of nowhere, as they walked home.

“What?”

He looked over at the man with a grin on his face, his nonexistent eyebrows shooting up in excitement that the Slayer walked right into his joke, “That was a real pain in my ass.”

The Slayer at first was concerned then crumbled into laughter, “Boooo that was cheesy!” He jokingly punched the demon in the shoulder.

Chapter 89: Who's Wearing The Dress?

The Slayer was up early and stood out in their shitty, tiny kitchen brewing coffee. Haru was beside him on the counter, meowing about getting breakfast. He checked his email earlier and found there were a dozen people asking him questions about a meeting and CCing him onto every little demon related issue. Someone killed an Imp last night outside the walls of the city and they wanted the Slayer to look over the autopsy report of the Imp and check for “unusual signs of aggression.” Why would you even autopsy a random Imp? Of course it’s aggressive, it's an IMP!

Haru was trying to push all the coffee cups and dishes off the counter to get the Slayer’s attention.

The man very much gave him attention and raised his voice a bit, stopping the mugs from falling, “Keep that up and I’ll starve you till your skin and bones!”

He just pouted at the Slayer’s cruelty and cried out for Crüe.

The demon was stepping through the doorway and embraced the Slayer from behind, “Feed the poor creature, please.” He was interrupted by a meow and let out a little fake gasp, “He’s starting to complain about my taste in men again. You better hurry before he eats your face.” He planted a kiss on the side of the Slayer’s face and poured them both a cup of coffee.

He got out a bag of cat food and filled Haru’s bowl, as well as refreshing his water, “Look you little bastard I'm being a good pet owner.” He motioned to the food bowl and Haru rushed over and started eating. “Good kitty.” He went to pat the cats back and Haru twisted around and hissed at him. “Fuck you.”

Crüe rolled his eyes, and looked down at the man’s phone open to his email. “Ooh they can’t get the teleporter on the main deck to work?”

“It can work but we have to get way closer to the target than expected. That’s an old email they keep resending because they want me to go crazy I guess.” He drank his coffee and stood beside Crüe, looking down at his phone. “Basically to get back to Urdak and fight off the demons taking over there we need some ‘seraphim technology’ that Samuel keeps rambling on about.” He stretched out his back and yawned, “That Atlantica facility is so infested with hell energy that it has its own weather system. Which is fucking with the teleporter.” He pointed at the email.

“Is that the summary of all those meetings you’ve been going to? The TLDR?” Crüe gently hit him with the side of his hip, smiling at him.

He sighed, “That’s it. Literally eons of meetings and emails, which all of this could have been an email by the way, and there’s nothing to show for it besides some fun facts.” His eyes glanced over to the little pantry by the bathroom where they were storing their suits and armor. “As long as I get on that facility, even if they have to drop me in and we nix the teleporting idea, I’ll take care of anything that gets thrown my way.”

His phone dinged and Crüe looked down, “Samuel just texted. He said he’s coming over.” A few seconds later his own phone got the same message.

The Slayer rolled his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, “Shall we barricade the door?” A knock interrupted his complaining. “Fuck, Samuel, what is it?” He yelled towards the door.

“You’re really not letting me in?! I texted ahead of time!” Samuel stood outside the door, a Manila folder in hand. He opened the folder up and leaned down.

Crüe started walking towards the door, getting ready to open it when Samuel slipped a photo under the door. After taking a whole of three seconds to process it, he quickly opened the door and let Samuel in. “SHIT!”

The Slayer ran over practically tripping on the couch to see what was happening. His eyes snapped to the photo. It was of him and Crüe naked, just barely censored, in the pool from yesterday. It was a screenshot of some online article with text describing their relationship. “Samuel where the fuck did you get these?”

The robot held up a much too thick Manila folder. “I wanted to be the first to tell you. Someone got photos of you two from yesterday being all,” he wiggled his fingers at the two idiots, “you know ‘lovey dovey,’” he paused and let out a stiff laugh, “actually no let me correct that ‘horny bastards,’ and now you are the number one trending topic in the news today.”

Crüe was slightly wigging out as his entire dick and balls was now proudly on the internet. “You’re not being very comforting about this!”

“You got naked in a public pool! This is sort of your fault.” Samuel corrected them. “I’m being very comforting. I came in person to tell you.”

“There was no one around. Trust me we checked!” The Slayer shook his head struggling to believe this had happened. In a way he was sort of glad that now they were out in the wild as a couple.

“Security cameras! How did you not think of that?” He tapped the photos and sighed. “Your only saving grace is that the news is more interested in you two’s love story and not the whole ‘butt-ass-naked-in-a-public-space’ thing.”

“Is it good?” Crüe asked sheepishly.

Samuel couldn’t tell if he was asking if they looked good naked in the pool or if public nudity was a good thing, “What?!”

“What people are saying.” He corrected himself.

Samuel actually bit back his hard reply at that question. He knew the men had been struggling with this and he decided to take it slow rather than rip their hearts out. “I mean there’s always a few dickheads that get upset at that sort of thing.” He reclined on the couch, throwing the folder on the coffee table, watching as they swooped in like pigeons to nervously read the article. “A few days ago someone ran an article that had pictures of you two fighting at the ARC complex back in the days when you hated each other. They made a big story about how you’re allies now and friendship conquers all, blah, blah, blah. So people were already interested in what turned you from enemies to friends and now they are interested in your little enemies to lovers story.”

Crüe skimmed through the article still in a panic. “So people aren’t freaking out at least?”

“Exactly, but now you two have to be ARC’s number one perfect, beautiful power couple. Your story of how you met needs to be streamlined and perfected, and needs to fit in a ten minute interview slot.” Samuel tilted his head at them. “You're going to be interviewed, it’s not live, don't worry. We will lie and say it’s live though!”

“Whoa- whoa, nope. I’m not giving an interview. No way in hell!” The Slayer stood up, putting down the pictures and walking around the room. “I refuse and you can’t make me!”

Crüe had an equal look of horror on his face, “An interview!? Fuck no! What the hell! I agree with the Slayer, you can make us do Jack shit!”

It took Samuel thirty minutes of arguing before he gave up and called Elena down who had them convinced and ready to give the interview in fifteen minutes. They didn’t give her the department head for biology and research for her pretty face. That woman was a stunning queen of producing propaganda.

A little studio had been cobbled together in one of the storage rooms. A fake backdrop was placed making it look like one of the lovely talk shows from before the invasion. She had them sit down and proceeded to pose them while quite a few people manning the camera and the interviewer looked on.

Their only saving grace was the fact that she allowed them to be in their full armor. The Slayer was protected in his suit like a little cocoon, and the marauder had his face mask covering his jaws. They were far over dressed for the plushy arm chairs they sat on.

She had them hold hands, and lean into each other just a bit. She insisted on Crüe’s neck being at a more uncomfortable angle, tilted above the Slayer as it made him seem more meek and timid, leaning into his lover. Every move was scientific and the interview was even more so.

It wasn’t a big comprehensive thing. Each question was set up to be sliced into a thousand small soundbites to be fed to the news companies. The Slayer smiled despite the helmet being on his head for the first question.

“So,” the interviewer smiled at them, his well groomed appearance matching his auditude. He was actually nice and pleasant to talk to. “I have to ask the question that has been on everyone’s mind since you showed up fighting beside the Slayer,” he motioned to Crüe, “How did you two meet?”

“So-“ the Slayer spoke up and was cut off by the marauder.

“Oh-“

“Sorry you go!” His face was burning with embarrassment.

“No you go, dear!” Crüe smiled at him, giving his hand a squeeze.

Elena watched them follow the script to a tee, every intentional mistake being played out wonderfully by them, “They are good at this.” She murmured to Samuel, who was sitting beside her, nodded in response.

The Slayer laughed, “Well I was fighting in Taras Nabad.”

“Fighting me in Taras Nabad.” Crüe corrected, giving the interviewer a big smile, yet the only thing they could see was the way his crows' feet around his eyes crinkled.

“I was hurt by another demon and he helped me return to base and stitch me back up.” The images of laying in the damn alcove, bleeding out while his shoulder dissolved from venom crossed his mind. He looked over at Crüe. He would be dead if it wasn’t for that demon. He pushed the thoughts back and focused. “The reason he even decided to help was because I had taken in Daisy, and he knew her from hell.” Shit it was supposed to be ‘in hell’ not ‘from hell.’ He panicked at messing with the script and Crüe took over.

“In hell Daisy was my messenger. I met her once I transformed into a marauder and we were in the same battalion.” He squeezed the Slayer’s hand again letting him know he was ok. “And that’s the story of how we met.”

“Very nice, very nice.” The interview leaned back and whispered a question to one of the camera men. He returned with the same vigor and gave them a huge grin, “Such an amazing story! Now how did you two fall in love?”

The Slayer recovered and dove back into the fight, “Well… it was actually in a pool.”

The interviewer laughed and leaned back in his chair. He pointed back and forth between the two of them, “So keep you two away from water, eh? Next time you get in a pool you’ll probably get married! Speaking of which?”

They both let out a nervous chuckle and panicked as marriage was nowhere on their memorized scripts. Crüe glanced over at Elena who just gave him a thumbs up.

The Slayer was worried how the demon even felt about marriage now, it was something that had just been forgotten in the shuffle, so he tried giving a non-answer, “Well nothing’s set in stone yet. We are in a rather demanding line of work for something like that.” It hid so much. It hid the fact that he wanted to marry the demon every day after their big fight.

He laughed, and swung his hand, “Oh I know, I know. I’m not trying to get an invite to the wedding or anything,” he gave them a wink, “But has there been anything, like have there been discussions at least?”

Crüe spoke up, “There have been a few discussions about it, yes.”

He gave them a loving smile, “Great, great!”

Besides that little detour with the marriage thing, the interview was going swimmingly. Elena watched pleasantly surprised from her seat. They were asked questions about how they were enjoying the earth, what they did for fun together, boring couple stuff that would bore any person to death, but because it was two pretty celebrities it was suddenly the hottest news imaginable. Towards the end of the interview they were just killing time and getting takes and pictures of them leaning in and resting their heads together.

The interviewer walked up to Elena and gave her such a nice smile. “We want to get one of them kissing. Is that alright?”

She just nodded and watched the interviewer sheepishly approach the two of them and ask. They smiled and nodded like perfect little angels. Samuel gently touched Elena’s hand, “You have them well trained. Maybe you should be their Vega.”

She laughed at that, “I’d be taking your job though.”

“I’m not very good at it anyways. After all-”

Helmets and face plates were taken off. The two let themselves be posed like dolls and then leaned in for a quick kiss. They had to hold it for an extremely awkward length of time. Out of the blue the Slayer grabbed Crüe, leaned him back and kissed him right on the mouth. The DoomSlayer’s armored hands gently held his back while Crüe’s claws gripped onto his shoulders pulling him in.

“Not one person on the planet other than you could have convinced them to do something like that.” Samuel sat back, confident in his observation.

“I promised them thirty five thousand to be transferred directly to their account. It’s not that complicated.” She leaned over and kissed him on the face plate. “Go be their Vega. Stop running.”

They packed their armor up and headed back to the apartment. Samuel grabbed both of them, wrapping an arm around their shoulders, “I for one cannot wait for the wedding, who’s wearing the dress?”

The Slayer walked with big stomping steps like a he hadn’t slept in years, “Literally fuck off Samuel.”

Elena opened their apartment door, shooing them inside, “It wouldn’t be a bad idea to get married soon. That would make humanity lose their shit. Also maybe a kid afterwards.”

Crüe had dove into the snack pantry/armory and popped his head out, talking through a fistful of chips. “We are a gay couple if you haven’t noticed, Elena, and both of us are completely sterile.”

“I’m talking about adoption,” She corrected him.

The Slayer shook his head, and pulled out some wine, wanting to shut his brain off for the remainder of the day, “We haven’t even mentioned children yet Elena, which for me would be a complete- ugh, just no, and we’ve mentioned getting married maybe twice, If that.”

“So is marriage out of the picture?” Elena sat down on their couch, propping her feet up on the coffee table, “I’m not trying to pry. I just want a good gauge of what’s going on to try and plan how to handle the media sharks back there.”

“I’d like to get married,” Crüe walked over to the Slayer and helped him pour wine for everyone, setting them down on the coffee table and sitting beside him. “I also feel like we should get married sooner than later because we almost die like every other week. It’s almost routine at this point.”

The Slayer nodded to that point, “I want to get married too.” He tried not to come off too strong, but he wasn’t sure how to explain he was REALLY ready to get married. “When are we going on our first mission?”

“Not enough time to plan a wedding.” Elena took a drink that gave her anxiety just thinking about rapidly planning the wedding of the century.

“How about after the first mission but before the second? We shouldn’t have much going on then.” He offered.

Crüe looked over, barely believing his ears. The man was taking initiative, actually wanting to commit and show him off. He blushed. “That sounds good to me. Now watch us die on this mission.” He laughed.

Samuel scolded them and drank wine, “No one is dying, don’t even say that you idiots.” He held up a hand, “But wait going back to marriage and kids.”

“What about it?” The Slayer complained.

Samuel decided to take a huge gamble and once again asked the man about his tumultuous past. The codexes could only tell him so much. “Did you have a family in your past universe?” He felt Elena look at him and squeeze his arm scolding him.

The man paused and drank down some wine, thinking for a moment. “My whole family was catholic and I was a twenty something year old dude in a good paying military position.” He looked down in his glass and swore he could see the reflection of the one photo of his wife and child. She was nice enough, but they were both just looking for the title and benefits, they never even consummated their relationship. “I got a wife, she had a kid from a past marriage. It was nice while it lasted, which was maybe six months, before I got sent to Phobos and the demons turned them both into a fine mist, but I married her to keep my family happy.” Crüe wasn’t his first relationship, but it was the first time he fell in love.

Crüe reached out holding the Slayer’s hand, offering support. “Then you have me. I think I fucked every prostitute in the sentinel homeworld.”

Samuel nodded, writing something down, “I’ve been wondering about your past. Well, I guess both of your pasts.” He always wondered about the risk of the Slayer leaving their dimension and returning to his own. Luckily it seems like he would be staying with them. There were no loose ends to tie up, which was cruel to say, but comforting to him at least.

“I was never good with kids. It was just always too much.” Crüe reclined against the man as he talked to Samuel and Elena. They sort of had a nice little relationship huddle happening. “I’d be a shitty father.”

Elena nodded and drank her wine, “Not to mention,” he motioned to the window, “Have you seen the world out there? I’d feel bad having a kid now.”

Daisy padded out into their little huddle chirping hello. “All my friends here today! Hello!” Missy and Orca tagged along happily.

Elena scooped them up as Daisy sat down on the couch beside the Slayer, “Who needs kids when you have baby gargoyles? Actually more like teenage gargoyles!”

The Slayer went to explain what had happened this morning to Daisy but she just laughed, “I watch on the news. Very upset you only mentioned me once. I was not even woken from nap to join interview? Dick move.”

He gave her arm a gentle punch, “Hey next interview you can do all the talking.”

A notification popped up on Samuel’s phone, “The teleporter is almost online. The supervisor says we’ll be fully ready in two days. Are you all ready for that?” He glanced up.

The Slayer, Daisy, and Crüe shared a knowing look at each other. They were diving back into the fray. Fighting a horde of demons even bigger and tougher than they could possibly imagine. They were going back to Urdak, maybe they would even find Vega.

The DoomSlayer nodded his eyes glancing at the photos of the article that still sat on their coffee table. “Hell yeah we’re ready.”

Chapter 90: War Games

Devo sat crossed legged. He scratched his chin, thinking of a proper battle tactic. Eventually he gave up and just striked at random.

Haine reached out, knocking his pieces off the board and winning the round, “I won!” He announced proudly, giving Devo a frightening grin. He absolutely adored all the board games hell had. Now that he actually had someone to play them with he could flex the skills he had acquired after so many years of playing with himself. They were sitting inside Haine’s lair, a little cave with tapestries and fabric on the walls and covering the rough stone. He had a few crates of food and some hunks of meat drying as they hung down from chains in the ceiling. His bed was tucked into one corner, mostly a nest of even more fabric and blankets. His axe hung on the wall, held up by two hooks. It was simple and all his own.

Haine had been one of the most interesting demons that Devo had ever met. His skin was the same pale gray-ish white of Crüe’s, but his horns, eyes, and claws were tinged a golden color, and his armor was white with gold trimmings. The kid was just barely an adult by sentinel standards, he was less than a hundred years old, (but by human standards he looked to be in his early twenties). He had been raised almost his entire life in hell, he didn’t even remember the sentinel world at all. He was sold from his cradle as an infant, placed into the clutches of the hell priests.

At the end of their experiment they received a quiet, reserved little marauder. He would fight and spar and could survive on his own quite well, but he wasn’t the powerhouse of a fighter like his father or uncle was. His muscles were small and didn’t quite fill out the armor like they should. Maybe in a few years on a better diet he’d be more similar to them.

Bell had walked up from the little encampment they made for her horde in the valley right next to Haine’s lair. It was mainly tents and a few lairs dug into the soft ash that laid in the valley. It wasn’t bad for them just having shown up overnight. She gently shoved Devo aside with her meaty hoof, “Let me try now.” She brought her heavy head down and smiled at Haine. She reached out, stopping his hand from resetting the pieces, “Has Devo told you why we’ve come here to find you?”

Haine hesitated as he wasn't sure he could trust this roving band of demons. Sure, he had never seen another marauder before, and Devo had been nice to him, but ever since they showed up last night he felt uncomfortable. “He mentioned things about the Slayer… and my father.” Father… father… it was such a weird word to finally say after so long. He never expected to find his father, and they couldn’t be certain without more testing that he actually was, but still. He wondered if his father would have actually cared about him. Of course he’d never know as Devo said the man had been killed in Taras Nabad.

“Yes,” Bell nodded her head, her split horn catching in the dim cold sun of the swamp. “The Slayer is en route to a facility in the middle of the human’s oceans. I have confidence that he wouldn’t be able to take down two marauders at the same time.” She shoved all the pieces off the game board and pulled out a map, “You like strategies and tactics, don’t you?”

He looked down over the map. It contained the detailed layout of the entire facility. Every last jump pad and supply crate was marked down and cataloged. It was fascinating and he nodded.

“I have a good friend who’s the hell lord of this facility. She knows the Slayer is coming and she can fight like a beast, but she doesn’t know how to prepare for his arrival.” Bell let out a low growl, “Me and Devo were going to sit down and pour over this map for hours trying to help bolster her defenses, but you seem to have a gift from the deepest pit of hell.” She handed him a case of drawing and marking utensils to take the first stab at it, but he picked his board game pieces off the floor and began arranging them.

The defenses were decent, but it assumed that the Slayer was coming in from one side. Demons would be clogged in one room while huge areas full of ammo and armor laid undefended. The whole thing had good bones, strong metal doors for traps, a hefty electrical supply, he could see thousands of ways to catch the man off guard. He looked up at her, “Get me a bigger map and we might be able to take the Slayer down.”

Devo nodded proudly at his nephew, “That’s the spirit, kid.”

Bell stood, dusting herself off, “I’ll have you a bigger map by sunrise. The Slayer is coming in only a few days, we aren’t sure how long we have. You’ll have to work fast.” She was up and out of Haine’s little house.

Haine sat beside his Uncle. They bounced ideas off of each other. They crafted horrific traps, tiny enclosed spaces teeming with demons, powering off every jump pad and tossing crates of ammo into the ocean, even electrifying every puddle of water they could see. When they were done and just waiting on the larger map for details of where their specific demons would be posted, Haine nodded at Devo. “Thanks for finding me out here.”

Devo seemed shocked and a bit confused, “Of course? As soon as I found out there was more of me…” he shrugged his shoulders. “I’m sorry you’ve been out here in the middle of nowhere for so long. If you want to run with me and Bell and our battalion you’re welcome to stay.” He looked around at the little cave covered in old tapestries that Haine called home. “I know it’s scary to leave everything behind.”

“No, I want to go.” Haine slowly rose to his feet and looked out the entrance of the cave at the little encampment they set up close by. “The Slayer killed my father. I deserve to get some revenge for that.” The word still sounded so weird in his mouth. He went so long believing that his family didn’t care about him to have sold him off as an infant. He originally wanted to know nothing about his past, but now he wanted to march right down there to the hell priest that was with them and ask who he really was.

Devo had undergone a transformation after meeting another marauder. He no longer was trying to rip the face off of every demon that looked at him funny. He actually had a reason to put his head down and ignore stupid stuff. “I know you don’t remember. In fact when you were born Crüe was probably already a marauder and was long gone from the sentinel world, but he was a good man. He was a good brother.” He quietly reminisced with his nephew, telling him stories, getting him to laugh.

“You know, one time we went hunting, I snuck up behind him and scared him, and he slipped and fell into a creek while he was about to take the shot!” He laughed, “I pestered him about that, I never let him live it down.”

Haine felt confused and angry about his father being dead. He would never get to hear these stories from him. There would always be the barrier of death separating him from a man he never knew. “Do you have a photo of him?”

Devo jumped up, digging out the photo the hell priest had gifted him, “I do! I almost forgot to show you!” He whipped out the photo, showing him before and after his transformation. “He looks a lot like you. The golden color on your horns is a bit different but still!”

Haine looked down at his father. His mind could barely process the images he was looking at. “He does look like me. He looks so happy in that photo.” He laughed and brushed his claw over the smooth picture of him as a newly transformed marauder. “You said he was a big hot shot in Immora, right?”

“Apparently he was a champion there. Would fight in matches and was a respected gladiator. That was after he served in battalions during the civil war with the sentinels. He decided to go back and fight for whatever reason. His battalion got wiped out by ‘environmental issues’ at an ARC complex with him as one of the only survivors. Then he was in Taras Nabad and had a run in with the Slayer.” He paused, feeling his chest ache, “Rest is history I guess.”

“How did we never hear about him then? I’ve watched the broadcasts of the gladiator fights and I’ve never seen him.” Haine seemed distraught, “I would have noticed another marauder.”

“There’s tens of thousands of gladiators in Immora. It would take an eternity to see all of them.” Devo stood up again and walked around Haine’s lair. “It would be fun to find his old fights and watch them.”

All of the sudden the encampment erupted into chaos. Demon’s shouted and hurled curse words at something under one of the tents. Devo could see Bell rushing over and hollering at Deag Ranak. They were too far away to make out words.

Devo and Haine were up and running over to the encampment. Shoving past tents and demons, they came upon the scene causing such an uproar. A small TV had been set up, it usually played a few military broadcasts from earth and let demons know generally what the other side was doing, how many humans they had killed, or where they were attacking. For once it didn't have a military broadcast on it at the moment.

“So, I have to ask the question that has been on everyone’s mind since you showed up fighting beside the Slayer, how did you two meet?”

“So-“

“Oh-“

“Sorry you go!”

Devo heard the unmistakable voice of his brother ring out in his ears, “No you go, dear!”

He shoved imps aside and leaned in for a closer look. Lo and behold, it was Crüe staring right back at him. “How long ago was this from?”

The Deag stepped forwards, “It’s live. Human news is reporting on this as we speak.”

They were leaning in together answering whoever was interviewing them’s question on how they met. It lined up with the records. Crüe’s KIA wasn’t him being splattered on a wall, it was betrayal.

“Such an amazing story! Now how did you two fall in love?”

Every demon around the TV lost their shit. People erupted into roars of anger, accusations of betrayal were drowned out by what they thought was the obvious: Crüe had been kidnapped by the Slayer as a spouse. Who knows what horrific things the Slayer had done to get Crüe, such a mighty champion, to humiliate himself on a broadcast like this?

In the chaos Haine got shoved to the ground, Devo screamed at the TV showing the broadcast all his anger rising to the surface in one huge wave of emotion, Bell tried to get the camp under control, but was met with screams of anger from Devo right back at her.

Haine was horrified. He couldn’t get to his feet in the chaos so he crawled under a table, watching the demonic legs of the crowd in front of him. He could still clearly hear the sound of his father’s voice. It was oddly comforting despite what he was saying about being with the Slayer. He couldn’t imagine living with such a horrific beast.

Devo gripped into the table the TV rested on, digging his claws into the cheap lightweight wood, snapping it into splinters. He was going to gut the Slayer alive and save his brother. He whirled around and shouted to the crowd, “Enough, ENOUGH!” He crawled up onto the table and shouted for their attention.

The crowd quieted down, still agitated and enraged. A mancubus hollered out, “The Slayer has taken his depravity to a new level!”

“That’s why we need to kill him! We are a massive horde of demons. We have a hell priest, we have two marauders, and we have some of the most ferocious Barons and Cyberdemons in all of hell! We will go to this facility in the ocean, we will pull each of the Slayer’s organs out one by one, wipe the floor with the Slayer’s limp body, and drink his blood from his helmet.” Devo raised his fist to the sky, and the horde let out a screech of agreement. He looked back down to the television to watch as his brother was swept into a kiss with the Slayer as he was held in the man’s arms. His blood boiled, “FOR CRÜE!”

The horde's response was such a loud deafening roar of acceptance that Devo felt like his ears might bleed. He kicked the TV off the table and jumped down, his boots kicking up the ashy dust of the valley.

Haine slowly crawled out from under the table, dazed at the information he had been faced with. Crüe was alive, his father was alive. He saw Devo talking with the Deag and Bell. He felt like he should run back to his home, but he walked over, uncomfortably injecting himself into the conversation. “Is that the new map?”

Bell looked down at the long rolled up piece of paper in her arms, “Why yes, it got here a little early.” She also seemed dazed at the news and handed it to him with a little nod. She seemed to be fine with him going to his lair, but he stood in the conversation a little longer.

Devo was still basically frothing at the mouth. Angrily asking the Deag about how he fought the Slayer in the past.

“Deception,” the old crusty priest rubbed his chin, thinking for a moment. “As long as things look roughly how they should, he gets lazy and glazes over them. That’s why he didn’t check the fake robotic body I sent out, it looked good enough and bled the normal amount. Find a way to trick him and make him vulnerable, and you might have a chance.”

Instead of going home that night he went to Bell’s tent in the encampment. She was leaning back on a bed of furs, smoking a cigar that was probably as fat as a marauder’s horn. He sat in front of her planning out the attack and defense. His uncle had walked off into the plains of hell, needing to be alone to clear his mind. Deag Ranak sat with him, complimenting his battle skills.

When it was all said and done, the plans were finalized and sent back to the hell lord. It was early morning. They were going to the facility later that day and he was tired. He was sitting outside Bell’s tent watching the demons that called this horde home.

Devo sat down beside him, seemingly back from his solitude, and offered him a cup.

Haine sniffed at the air, not entirely trusting of Devo quite yet, “Liquor?”

His uncle’s face wrinkled in disgust and he violently shook his head, “Coffee. I don’t drink, you shouldn’t either.”

He took it and thanked him. Haine’s mind’s unceasing thoughts got louder with the introduction of caffeine. He pushed them aside the best he could as he watched the last rising of the cold sun over the outskirts of the Blood Swamps.

Chapter 91: Making Rings and Other Such Wedding Preparations

They slept the remainder of the day, the interview had been more taxing than fighting a horde of a thousand demons. The next morning the dreaded constant shuffling of meetings began once more. This time the Slayer couldn’t escape. He had to at least sit in and listen as tomorrow was the big day. He sat listening to the monotonous drone of the meetings, only occasionally paying attention when it was something involving demons. A majority of the time he was fiddling with his pen, scraping his nail over the textured parts of it.

One thing weighed on his mind as his thoughts wandered. Right after this meeting he should be heading back to the apartment to visit Crue, but instead, he was crawling down into the belly of the ship to use their forge. He was hell bent on at least making the wedding rings before they left for their first mission. His mind swam with ideas of what he should make. He had a fairly good idea of what the general dimensions should be, last night he measured the demon’s ring finger while he slept. He just couldn’t decide on a style. He wasn’t skilled enough to do something elaborate, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted to make just a plain golden band. Also it wasn’t like he had a spare diamond laying around.

As soon as the meeting was over he was up and out, rushing down to the furnace. He held a tiny chunk of golden alloy between his fingers. He had found it years ago in hell, wedged in a rock. He put it in his tool belt and forgot about it until now. The forging process was painfully boring, and he restarted several times due to all manner of mishaps and mistakes. Eventually he was left with two plain golden rings that looked dazzlingly perfect. He could roll them around in his hand and see the reflection of his face in their gleaming surface.

Now that he was holding the two rings in his hands, his frantic mania of wanting to get married stilled for a moment. He felt like he could actually think. Crüe had agreed to getting married or at least getting proposed to after this mission. He knew in his heart that he wanted to marry the demon, and besides they basically acted like a married couple already. The only thing that would change was them being able to call each other “husband” and that was such a tiny minute change. Yet the Slayer was still a bit worried if he would be a good husband, after all he had been a rather shitty boyfriend recently. Despite them smoothing over their big fight about coming out as a couple, he still couldn’t get the visions of Crüe’s pained face and how hurt he had been out of his mind.

He tucked the rings away, back into his tool belt and picked up his phone, heading back up to civilization. He was honestly quite happy with himself until he saw a dozen missed phone calls from Samuel, Crüe, Elena, and some random corporate number. He called Crüe back and rushed upstairs, “What’s happening?”

The demon answered with panic and a bit of annoyance in his voice, “Head up to the main deck. It’s an emergency meeting. The Atlantica facility just tripled in demonic activity.” He glanced up at the holographic map that was laid out above the commander station. Huge red splotches of demons were flooding in from every direction, bulking up the red spots that had been there for weeks. “I’ve been here answering questions for you. Where the fuck did you go?”

He elected to ignore that question, “I’m almost there. How bad is it.”

The map suddenly flickered and went dark. It quickly came back online and every red splotch was gone, wiped clean. Crüe leaned the phone into his chest, “What just happened, are they gone?”

The supervisor, a bald ARC employee wearing the standard tight fitting, hideous uniform, spoke up. “They just took out all of the sensors.” He turned around and tapped on a console, showing a security camera video of a huge mancubus reaching up and smashing his fits into the ceiling then the video cut as the camera was destroyed as well. “What the hell?”

Samuel tapped his fingers against a console, “They knew we were coming, we aren’t exactly trying to be stealthy. Why armor up now and not earlier when they first knew we were on our way?”

A door opened and the Slayer sheepishly rushed in, holding his Praetor suit’s belt. He was quickly caught up to speed and simply shrugged at the terrifying news he was being told. “Are we still on course for the teleporter to be in range tomorrow?”

“It will be late tomorrow night.” But the supervisor nodded, “We are still on course.”

“Then there’s no issue.” The Slayer’s eyes glanced over the map. “It doesn’t matter if all of hell shows up on that facility. It’s nothing I haven’t handled before. Get me there and whatever is there will be dead by the time I leave.”

The same scrawny little Intern who had talked to them in the elevator spoke up, “Aren’t you being reckless?”

The supervisor seemed to be glaring a hole right through his subordinate’s head, but Crüe nodded, “Yes, thank you, he is being reckless. We should learn everything we can about where we are going!”

Elena who was sitting down beside Samuel and who the Slayer hadn’t even noticed spoke up as well, “True, but we don’t even have sensors or cameras now, we might as well be dead in the water. As of right now we are flying in blind anyways.”

Crüe sighed and shook his head, “This isn’t standard practice in hell combat. That’s what worries me.”

The Slayer clapped a hand on his shoulder and gave him a little nod, “Ain’t nothing we can’t handle. Now I’d like to enjoy my last day before I face hell again. Unless there is a demon on this ship eating someone, don’t call me.” Him and Crüe turned and walked out of the main deck down into their room.

“Slayer, was that a good idea?” Crüe asked worriedly, “I know you are confident and I don’t doubt your abilities-“ He was cut off by the man pulling him in for a hug, he gently wrapped his arms around him. “You don’t want to think about it?” He supposed this might remind him of being sent to Phobos all those years ago. Crüe helped him sit down on the couch and rubbed his shoulders, “Are you worried about death?”

That actually broke the Slayer out of his silence and he laughed, “Nope, I’m just sick of all the waiting and talking and stupid shit. It makes me worry over stuff that I never even had thought of. I mean a huge surge of demonic activity is probably because they just now realized that I was on my way.” He rubbed his head and leaned forwards, “I feel desperate to fight again. It’s been so long. I feel like I need to prove to myself I still can do it.”

Daisy padded out from a bedroom and curled up beside him, “I excited to fight. Side by side we all kill together. Stab big oozing things in neck and drink the water of the flesh!”

The Slayer blinked and nodded, “See she gets it.” He stood up, wiping off the dusty gold alloy that remained on his hands, “We are all,” he leaned back until he spotted Haru, Orca, and Missy and motioned for them to come out, “All six of us are going to have a lovely night and relax and not even mention hordes of demons or the Atlantica facility. What do we want to do?”

“All sleep in same bed!” Daisy cried out. “I miss the cuddling!”

Haru meowed and Crüe laughed in response as he translated, “Haru wants to watch a video like a TV show or a movie.”

The Slayer nodded. “We can do both of those, any specific video in mind?”

Haru shrugged, but Crüe swooped in, “We should watch something stupid. I know just the thing.”

The huddled around Crüe’s phone and pulled up fucking fail videos of all things. They were absolutely beautiful to watch.

Every worry the Slayer had was cleared from his mind by the sounds of someone screaming in pain as they landed on their balls in a skateboarding accident or some stupid idiot messing with a vehicle. They were so stupid they hurt, some were even so obviously staged even Haru wailed out. He honestly enjoyed this so much, and he regretted the lack of time he spent with his family.

Now he wrapped an arm around Crüe and one around Daisy as her kids rested in his lab and Haru chilled in the demon's lap. “I love you idiots.”

Daisy butted her head against him, “Love you!”

He kissed her forehead, then noticed Crüe smiling over at him. The demon laid against him, nuzzling his head into the man’s neck. He looked down at him, savoring the moment of rest, and returned to watching TV. Trying to fight off the foreboding sense of doom that rested in his chest. He was rusty, he should have trained more, or even sparred a bit more to prepare for this. He hadn’t even cleaned his suit recently, of course he hadn’t really used it much so it was clean. He pulled his mind back to the TV only for it to wander again.

After an hour or two, they got up and went to bed. Haru laid in between them, as did Daisy and her children. The little creatures all fell asleep almost instantly, but the Slayer was left away, open eyes staring at the ceiling. He was alone with his thoughts until Crüe reached over and poked his ear. “What?”

The demon shrugged and spoke softly, not to wake the rest of his family, “I know you’re worried, talk to me.”

He had to take a long pause to work up a response to that, “I suppose I am.” The more he thought about it he was less worried about the mission and more worried about dying before marrying Crüe. He thought about proposing at that very moment, but hesitated and took the safer option, “Are you ok with getting married?”

Crüe looked over at his lover, his gaze warm and happy, “Of course. I wasn’t just saying that because Elena was there. Are we gonna try and do it after this mission?”

The Slayer could practically feel the rings burning a hole through his suit’s belt, begging him to propose, “I’ll propose to you right after the mission. Does that sound good?”

Crüe’s heart skipped beats he felt his face blush and he wanted to jump out of bed and run around the room shouting and screaming with joy. “Hell yeah. Humans use rings, right? Do you have the rings now?”

“Yup.” He replied confidently and gave the demon a wink. “Handmade.”

Crüe then proceeded to pester the Slayer about what the rings looked like, where they were, what he should say during the human proposal, and he could simply not believe that all he had to say was “yes” it seemed too simple. “Now I’m gonna be awake all night thinking about it. I’m excited, Slayer.”

The man chuckled, shaking the bed softly, “I am too.”

“Love you.”

“I love you too.”

Chapter 92: One Last Mission (Before Marriage)

The next morning they stood suited up, armed to the teeth, and wearing angry expressions. Crüe was in his full armor face mask included, Haru had temporarily left the body of the cat behind and was in his axe. The cat’s body was currently resting in their refrigerator waiting to be thawed out when they got back. The Slayer was disgusted by it, but no one else seemed to mind. Daisy was dressed in her armor. She clutched a shotgun and complained to Samuel that she needed a new BFG. The Slayer wasn’t holding a gun, not yet. He was taking the time to sharpen his blades though. He knew Daisy could do it with her jaws, but this was a way to comfort him before the fight.

Samuel and Elena were standing beside them giving them a quick rundown of what they did know while promising to take care of Orca and Missy. The robot was quite calm about this, “We’ll be right here if you need any back up whatsoever. Keep your mics on, no funny business. We need the technology stored within the UAC facility to guide you to Urdak and exterminate the demons there.”

Elena nodded at his gentle scolding, “Samuel has volunteered to go in and fight if need be. He will only be sent out with your explicit permission.”

The Slayer took a deep breath under his helmet, “Is the teleporter ready?”

The intern called out, “Portal ready in 3… 2…”

They walked down to the portal and stood in front of it, watching it slide into place. The Slayer took the time to load his double barreled shotgun, closing it with a satisfying click as the portal lit up. “See you in a bit.” He nodded back at Samuel and Elena and he supposed that little Intern and his supervisor too. He tried not to focus on the sounds of the ARC operators getting up from their chairs and looking at him as he stepped into the portal.

The horrific feeling of being teleported was not something the Slayer missed much. Not to mention the demonic energy and the storm made the portal unstable. He was shot out of it, landing on his face. Crüe hit the metal railing, swearing and cursing. Daisy caught herself with her wings and did a little roll on the ground before popping back up, unharmed.

They had been teleported onto a small helipad off to the side of the facility. It was horrific and the storm raged on. The rain was slipping into his armor and drenching him. It whipped sideways with the might of the wind and the waves far below them were churned up and frothy white.

Samuel spoke in his ear as he took out a few zombies that lingered about on the helicopter pad, “You had to trash Urdak to save earth. Now you have to go back and fix your mistakes, but these demons aren’t just going to give you the technology we’ll need.”

The Slayer took them out, killing them brutally, happy to flex his muscles a bit.

“What does this tech even look like? How will we know when we find it?” Crüe asked as he let Haru out to lap at the empty, bloody skull of one of the zombie corpses, its brain shot out of its skull into the frothy foam below.

“We don’t have much intel on it besides it being a vital piece of Maykr engineering to get you back to Urdak. It’s nearly a thousand feet below the main deck in the most secure part of the facility, you’ll know it when you see it.” Samuel pulled away from the mic and watched Elena chart out demonic activity from sensors that had been placed on the trio's armor. It gave a tiny, temporary window into what was happening around them.

“There’s a shit ton of demons on that deck in front of you.” Elena spoke calmly into the microphone, “Go get ‘em.”

On cue the deck in front of them was swarmed with demons. Five cyber mancubi, a dozen cacodemons, a group of arachnotrons, their legs scuttering in a flurry making it impossible to count. It wasn’t a horde of demons, it was a giant swarm. The demons were packed in the deck, snarling and snapping at their invaders.

“It’s like double the demons.” The Slayer considered what gun to pick, deciding on his rocket launcher.

Crüe activated his axe and loaded his shotgun. Haru growled by his side.

“KILL THEM ALL!” Daisy rushed past them and shot an imp's face into charred pieces of gore. “KILL, KILL, KILL!”

The Slayer leapt into the crowd tossing grenades out like candy, and watching the disgusting aftermath. Demons' futility slashed at each other’s sides to get away from the grenades but they all were blasted to tiny chunks of gore.

Crüe swung his axe into the crowd, just trying to make room for himself to get in and fight. A mancubus was sizing him up and two cyber mancubi were rushing towards him, crushing smaller demons underfoot. He dodged its fiery blast from its cannons and swung his axe into its belly. He did it again and again, not relenting even as the mancubus fell back, its intestines lurching out of its own stomach and onto its face.

Haru was phasing in and out of the crowd. There was so much gore and blood. His teeth found purchase on flesh every time he opened his mouth.

Daisy flew up over the crowd, a volley of fireballs and whips and blasts of every variety were hurled her way. A few hit the ceiling above, but most arched down, falling back into the thick crowd of demons. She was horrified at this. Tactically it was something new at least, but for how small of an area this was, there wasn’t enough room for this many demons to fight efficiently. This wasn’t the standard UAC way of doing things, there was someone new calling the shots. She dove down into the crowd, biting a prowler's arm and peeling its bicep off, leaving it to bleed out as she flew back up again.

In a few short minutes, the floor was thick with bodies and gore. The Slayer was finishing off one last Imp, with tired, heavy looking swings.

It yelled out whining about mercy. Nothing more than the usual chitter chatter from the demons that he had been experiencing ever since Crüe had joined his side. But then it screeched out, “DEAG RANAK HELP!”

The Slayer dropped the Imp like it was on fire, letting its broken legs buckle, sending it falling to the floor. “What?” The Imp seemed to realize its mistake and went silent only to start yelling again as he began kicking it.

Crüe stumbled over the squishy bodies, nearly falling face first into the blood a few times. Haru ignored his stumbling and just chugged down blood, “Here, leave it alone.” He put his hand on the Slayer’s shoulder, pulling him back. He leaned down beside the Imp, tilting his head to look over it. “Is the Deag here?”

It didn’t respond, it just laid on his side and looked out at the waves with a concerned look in its eyes.

“Have you already accepted death? You’re not gonna snap and give us some secrets?” Crüe spoke gently and with a happy tone. He laid a hand on the Imp, “You're gonna die either way, why don’t you give us something to go after those assholes who set a little Imp like you up against the Slayer?”

It snapped at him, and spoke in a fast, terrified voice, “I just want to die a fast death by the Slayer’s hand like a good demon should!”

Crüe pulled away and rolled his eyes a bit. It was as if demons didn’t think his hands were good enough for killing.

The Slayer seemed disinterested, “Daisy, eat up.” He turned and walked away, sitting down on some blood stained crates as he listened to Daisy slowly eat the little Imp, his screams were wonderful sounding to his ears. “How the fuck is the Deag even possibly still alive?”

Crüe sat down beside him, “You definitely killed him, that's how you were able to save the earth. I remember hearing reports of his death when I was still with hell.” He watched as the Imp slowly stopped fighting too much blood gone from its veins. “Let’s keep fighting, you old man.” He shoved his shoulders and laughed, picking up his axe with a dramatic spin. “Haru let’s go.”

When they walked down the steps to collect a keycard, they realized that the sheer amount of dead demons on the top deck had created a waterfall of blood that dripped down onto the second deck below. Daisy and Haru danced around it, opening their jaws and feasting. The Slayer tried to avoid getting drenched and the marauder pulled out his shield, protecting them both from the blood with a warm smile.

Then they were up, collecting keycards, and jumping across to another platform. They hurried down a door to find yet another keycard and the Slayer rounded the corner on something new. A tower, double his height, all black and demonic looking. Suddenly a purple eye popped up out of it and started shooting at him. He lit up the tower with every variety of rocket and bullet, but it didn’t budge.

Crüe fired two shots from his axe at the eye, and the tower crumbled into pieces. “You are rusty, that was an obvious weak point.”

That was met with a shove from the Slayer, “I’ve never seen one of those before, and hopefully I’ll never have to see one again.”

The next room was giant and had four of them along with a swarm of demons. This time it wasn’t nearly as packed tight. “Oh great more eye ball towers!”

Crüe stifled a laugh unsuccessfully, and rolled his eyes at the man, “They are called turrets, love.”

The fight was standard, boring even, but boring was good. It meant the Slayer was fighting well and Crüe, Daisy, and Haru would have no harm befall them. One of the turret glanced up before the Slayer dispatched it. He followed its line of sight and saw a young Imp up in the ceiling, its claws clutching a camera. It took some difficulty because he realized there were no jump pads in the arena. He jumped on a crate, grabbed a bar, and leapt up, sinking his fingers into a metal grate and grabbing the beast's leg. He dragged it down to the floor and he snapped its neck, grabbing the camera, as Crüe finished off a few cacodemons. Daisy was already fetching the keycard they needed.

He flipped the camera over in his hands. It was a modified security camera and seemed to still be transmitting. He held it out, making sure it could see his helmeted face and upper torso. He slowly dragged his thumb across his neck, hoping he was terrifying whatever bastard was on the other end. Then he smashed it in his hands.

Chapter 93: A Much Longer Guest List Than Anticipated

Haine watched that finger be dragged across the Slayer’s neck. It was really just a childish threat, but it made him reconsider his current plans. He watched a whole horde be brutally slaughtered and now another one with this most recent arena.

Devo sat beside him in their little make shift control room. “At least Crüe doesn’t seem visibly abused.” His knee bounced under the table. “So I was thinking out next line of action-“

“Pull everyone.” Haine announced.

“Wait, just let the Slayer waltz right through this facility?” He stood, his chair flying back, “Haine!”

“He’s just going to kill them, it isn’t even wearing him down! I can control everything I need from these consoles.” They were perched at the very peak of one of the stations hidden in a tiny control room. Haine turned and relayed that information to the rest of the demons in the room. They all nodded and hurriedly dialed their respective stations, telling them to rush back or hide.

Bell watched, unsure of the “masterful” tactics Haine was pulling. He could have spread those demons out on the first deck more, preventing the whole slaughter that happened.

Her dear friend stood beside her, a tall cyberdemon with no name. Cyberdemons rarely did names and she was no exception. “Bell, are you sure about this?”

She shrugged, not exactly being the beaming ray of confidence Haine or Devo were hoping for. “He improved from the first fight on the deck to now, we have time to put demons back in if this goes wrong.”

The dreadknight and the lost souls that were supposed to be lingering in the hallway, waiting for the Slayer to return dove into a portal. Haine rushed over to a console and tapped a few key buttons and switches. “Just give me one more shot then you two can take over with the old way of throwing a few dozen demons to the Sayer until he kills everyone.”

The cyberdemon laughed, her shoulders rolling back, then she leaned down, pointing at Haine, “Such a petulant, foolish child.”

The bold marauder glared back at her, “Such an old, disgusting hag.”

Bell smashed her hoof into the ground calling for a truce between the two of them, “Enough, Haine, prove your worth, or get out of the fucking way.” She exhaled like a bull, flames shooting out of her lungs, dancing across her lips and nose.

The Slayer walked into the hallway and a laser mounted into the ceiling powered on, and he was hit square in the head with a blast from the beam. He crumpled to the floor, Crüe rushing over. It was a cosmetic wound, only denting the armor and chipping away at a bit of his health. Yet, the command room erupted in cheers, and Haine smiled at the cyberdemon. The Slayer grabbed Crüe and Daisy and hurried them out of the hallway, stopping the attack. He still clutched his head, and Haine felt a bloom of confidence.

Control was conceited to him yet again, and now it was firmly in his hands.

He poured over a map in the room, tracing his fingers over the pathway they would be taking. “It’s going to be a while before I can engage again. Once they ride this shipping container up to this level I could start to attack them again.”

Devo gave him a worried glance, “We’d be losing a lot of ground for that.”

Bell nodded her head, “Then so be it. If this wears them down, you boys know what to do once they reach the levels below the facility.”

Devo and Haine nodded. Despite all the swirling panicked chaos happening around them with calls being made and a thousand screens, they had one goal on their minds: to get Crüe back.

It was almost comical how cautious the Slayer was being. He crept around every corner, his gun perpetually at the ready. He was itching to shoot at anything that moved. Yet Haine smiled down on him as he struggled to comprehend the lack of demons. He felt Devo tap his shoulder and he turned around.

“Bell got us what we asked for.” He handed the marauder a little case. It was ornate and bound with black leather and locked with a latch of polished bone.

Haine opened it up and took out the vial and syringe. “A full dose should knock him out, right?”

Devo shrugged, “I mean look at him,” he tapped the visible silhouette of Crüe on the screen, “He might even need a second dose; he's built like a tank.”

He turned his attention back to the screen, “Look, they are almost there.”

The demons watched as the Slayer and the poor kidnapped demons that were forced to follow him nervously. They tried their best to grip onto the slick surface of the shipping container as it swung out over the ocean. Yet of course the Slayer couldn’t do them the favor of falling to his death. They crawled up the side of the facility and leapt up into a large circular open air room. There were crates and seawater on the floor; a big post in the middle held it up along with the rest of the facility attached to it.

It used to be used for landing drones full of supplies, it would also charge them. Haine waited patiently until he saw the Slayer’s foot touch the seawater laying on the floor; then he emptied out the remaining energy.

The Slayer jumped back, flinching away. This time he wasn’t nearly as affected. “Dammit.” He merely leapt over the water and Daisy and Crüe did the same. Haru had long since been tucked back in his axe, as he was too bored by the lack of demons.

Haine watched as they continued on, gaining more ground as his failed trap continued to send little zaps through the water. “Shit there wasn't enough power.”

The Slayer was moving faster now, he cleared another empty arena and grabbed the key needed to get the technology to stop the invasion of Urdak. As soon as he picked it up, a countdown began. A UAC voice threatened to self-destruct the entire building and proceeded to do so. The countdown gave Haine and Devo some hope.

The Slayer didn’t flinch. He reached out and held onto Crüe and Daisy. The building shook, metal fell from the ceiling clanging onto the floor and bouncing off the demon’s shield he had tossed up for protection. A small fire started in one corner. They were knocked to their knees, but as soon as he regained his footing he escaped the burning, half exploded spire without an issue.

Him and Crüe basically jogged through the next arena while Haine tried to desperately scramble to get another trap together. The cyberdemon had finally had it. “DAMMIT YOU FOOLS!” She swung her head down to face them. “Send me in if you’re too much of a coward!” She reached over Haine and grabbed a lever, pulling it and powering up a portal. Bell tried to stop her, but she pushed past, “My battalion needs their glorious leader to show them how to crush a Slayer!”

Haine whirled around, “I could help there’s some lasers in that hallway-“

“LEAVE ME TO FIGHT WITH HONOR! I don’t need your dirty tricks!” She bellowed out.

Crüe and the Slayer continued down hallways and corridors, Daisy sat by a few empty tentacle holes and poked her head inside them, looking for something to beat up.

“It must be something about me. I’m simply so ferocious no demon dares lay a hand on me.” Crüe smiled and bumped his hip into the Slayer. “Come on, don't be so miserable. No demons is a good thing!”

“It’s a suspicious thing!” The Slayer argued back, “In the past five minutes we’ve passed through not one, but two prime arenas and didn’t even see an Imp. That’s weird, I don't like it.”

Elena was in his ear, “Slayer demonic energy behind you. We are just picking up a sudden spike.”

The hallway doors slammed shut and he whipped around, grabbing Crüe and pulling him back. Out stepped a cyberdemon. She roared, baring her teeth to the slimy bastards. “THIS IS HOW YOU FIGHT!” She slammed her fist down sending a shockwave that knocked the Slayer off his feet. She launched rockets as well, attempting to melt the man’s face off with a well aimed blow. He dodged them, letting them explode against the wall.

Crüe was still on his feet. He leapt up, planting a foot on the wall and launching himself up to the ceiling. He sunk his axe into the back of her neck. Her body went limp and fell forwards, nearly crushing the Slayer. He landed on her back, proud of his kill. The doors opened and he gave the Slayer a little nod.

“C-crüe.” The demon gagged out, her body paralyzed. “Don’t kill me.”

He looked down at her, “Wow a lot of talkative demons today. Anything you want to say? Is Deag Ranak still lurking around somewhere?”

“Yes,” she made a horrific noise as she struggled to breathe, “He snuck off after the DoomSlayer killed a decoy in the invasion.” A sob escaped her, “Don’t kill-“

Crüe leaned down beside her, stroking her horns, he glanced up at the Slayer, a fiery light in his eyes. “Where is he?”

“Hidden…” she trailed off realizing that maybe Haine was right with his plan, perhaps she had been too confident. She wasn’t going to die alone though, she’d take that foolish child with her, “There’s two hordes here. We are working together. The people you want are hiding in the-“

A laser beam shot down from the ceiling and burnt a perfect circular hole right through her brain. Crüe leapt back pulling his hand away. They moved away, recuperating and rushing back to Daisy who was quite shocked at the doors shutting on them and a dead Cyberdemon appearing. “WHAT? FUCK WAS THAT?” she yelled out.

Bell yelled out a similar thing and forced Haine out of his seat, “For all of hell’s sake! You can't execute one of your own!”

“She was going to give away our location and send the Slayer after us!” Haine argued while Devo agreed, arguing with Bell as well. He removed his hand from the console and balled it up in his lap. “It wasn’t my fault. I told her to stay here.”

Chapter 94: Something Old

Bell walked around in a circle, looking at all the scared demons that were now solely relying on her to guide them. “Everyone, tell the demons to stay hidden or teleport back to a safe location, and Haine, start putting on that green armor.”

The demon did as he was told, he removed his pearly white armor and replaced it with a dark silvery green, just like his father. He coated his golden horns in a dark powder, put in red contacts, and glanced over at Devo. “It looks good, or convincing at least?”

“You look just like him, kid.” Devo nodded and faced the screens, terrified of what would happen in the coming minutes. “I have the supplies. We are all ready to go.”

They continued on their painfully boring trek. Crüe was poking the Slayer’s lower back as they walked side by side. It was a fantastic way to be needy and annoying without attracting the attention of the cameras and sensors mounted on the man’s head. The Slayer was returning the favor by every step or so, bumping his hips into the demon’s thigh.

Crüe poked the back of his neck and he side kicked him in the hip like a horse. The demon stumbled into a huge crate, the lid shooting off.

The Slayer went over to check on him, laughing his ass off, but his eyes caught on what was inside the crate.

On one side there was scuba gear and on the other there was a hell knight hunkered down, glaring up at them.

The Slayer peered down inside, “What are you doing here?”

“It’s not being aggressive, Slayer it’s scared.” Crüe cast a glance at the Slayer.

“Well that unfortunate! Now time for killing.” Daisy hauled herself up onto the side of the crate and loaded her gun.

The Slayer was conflicted, but first and foremost, “We’ll probably need that gear.” As he reached in the crate it bared his fangs and snarled at them.

Daisy shot it like it was a particularly annoying raccoon at the bottom of a trash can. The creature slumped over, blood dripping on some of the scuba gear.

There was an odd silence as they each picked up their respective tank and mask and attached it to their backs. Daisy caught on fast, but Crüe was having some difficulty. “Here,” the Slayer stretched out his inviting arms, “I got you.”

With a few clips and a bit of redneck engineering, he connected the tank to the demon's back, looping the respirator and mask over his shoulder and placing it on his face. “We’ll have to go underwater to dove down that far. As soon as you hit the water, put the respirator in your mouth and just take a deep breath.”

Crüe closed his eyes, feeling the respirator and the accompanying mask be held on his face by the Slayer. He took a deep breath of the air. It was nice, and it didn’t smell like the burning charred mess around them. “You've scuba dived before?”

“I technically took a class once before.” The Slayer patted him on his shoulder and gave him a thumbs up.

Crüe’s eyes popped open wide, “That ‘technically’ is carrying more weight than I would like it too.”

“It was during my college years. It was a fun elective. I would have gotten a B+ if the class wasn’t canceled and I’m very proud of that.” He put his hands on his hips and posed as if he expected a grand ovation.

“Wait, I'm not even diving with an A+ scuba diver?” He groaned.

Daisy had been self sufficient in getting her gear on and she poked her head up, “Will the water be dangerous?” She asked, also looping her mask and respirator over her shoulder. The tanks of oxygen were firmly secured on her back.

“Not with me around.” He gave her a little pat and shoved them along. They continued on, getting to another big room that should have been crawling with demons, but the Slayer looked around. “There’s a lot of crates here.”

Elena jumped on the line, “I can’t see anything with the sensors besides Daisy and Crüe. The UAC might have sensor proof boxes though.”

They glanced in a few boxes finding nothing but a handful of bullets and one health pack. The demons had long since fled and apparently taken all the supplies they could carry.

Daisy was running around treating it like a game. Until she peeked in a crate and saw a little male gargoyle. She bit his wing gently and pulled him out. He walked out trying to shrink down onto the ground.

The Slayer whipped around so fast he nearly snapped his neck, “PUT THAT DOWN!”

She attempted to argue, but Crüe was now rushing towards her, “No more cannibalism or getting pregnant! Drop it!”

She did as she was told but still hit them with the puppy dog eyes. The little male was horrified and was shivering, clutching the ground. Daisy paced around him like a velociraptor fine with killing him instead.

Out of all the demons he had ever seen, excluding Daisy and Crüe, he felt genuine pity for the little man. The Slayer gave him a little nod, “Get out of here. I’m giving you a chance.” He watched as the demon gave a horrified look towards Daisy and scurried off, out of a huge gap in the wall and into the storm.

She let out a horrified screech and ran up to the Slayer, “He was cute! Asshole! Asshole!”

“I'm ignoring you!” He crossed his arms and leaned back.

Daisy stomped off and pouted as they walked over to a door and continued their journey. As they walked over a lake of electrified water and up a few stairs, the Slayer tried to explain himself. “Daisy you're such a nice gargoyle and I’d just hate to see you murder everyone that’s interested in you.”

“You murder demon!” She argued right back.

“I don’t murder you or Crüe though!”’

She pulled away and thought for a second.

“See I want you to find someone who you can tolerate being around without murdering them!”

“That will take forever!” She snapped at him, complaining.

“We are gonna be in and out of hellish areas a lot for the next long while. So you’ll see plenty of gargoyles.” Crüe scooped her up, making sure her tanks were secured as they approached a grand submarine. The thing was genuinely beautiful, held up above a moon pool by strong metal chains, and Crüe was excited about the chance to ride in it. Of course, he was worried about it breaking and crushing him, but still it was better than actually swimming in the open ocean.

“No killing gargoyles then. I check if I like each one.” She nodded rather regally. “Agreed?”

“I agree to that.” The Slayer seemed somewhat satisfied with their agreement and tapped a screen, instructing the pulleys to lower the sub. He watched in horror as the thing powered on and its chains snapped, the submarine taking a nosedive into the ocean. “JUMP IN!”

They all dove into the water grabbing the sub by a single rail and quickly put their respirators in. As they descended Crüe felt the water pressure squeeze his exposed chest and belly. He took in nervous gulps of air, struggling to fight the pressure.

The sub stopped and they let go, rushing to swim over to the compound beside them. Crüe could see a shark swimming in the distance; he was terrified at being so deep in the ocean. He hesitated, scared of where to go. The Slayer grabbed him and pulled him along, comforting him as best he could.

When they finally crawled back up into the facility through an open hole, Crüe spat the respirator out, gagging as he did, and was taking shaky gasps of breath. “Fuck, I don’t like diving!”

As much as the Slayer was worried, he seemed eager to continue on. “It’s ok, there won’t be much more diving.”

“Can I take a break?” He felt like his legs were numb and like his chest was going to explode. “Back in Nekravol we took a break in every arena.”

“Back in Nekravol there were actually demons to fight, if you need a minute me and Daisy can go scout up ahead.” He motioned for her to follow and continued down the corridor. To his absolute joy, the doors shut on him and a bunch of demons came pouring out of a portal.

Crüe sat beside the little moon pool they had come up through. He was just certain that diving had been a bit too much too fast for him. He didn’t even really like pools that much. The water made him feel trapped and using a tiny pathetic face mask to dive so deep so fast was scar-

A hand wrapped around his face, covering his mouth, stopping a shout of surprise.

He felt a needle poke his neck and instantly, burning pain flowed through his body. He felt numb, like he was made of pins and needles. His arms and legs went limp and he fell into one of his attackers arms. He looked just like him, and was even wearing the same armor. The other one was red, well… maybe. His eyes blurred and he slipped off into sleep. He could feel them yanking his scuba gear off his body.

Devo scooped Crüe up, his body entirely limp, and rushed him into a portal, “Haine be safe. I’ll see you in a second.”

The DoomSlayer was still arguing with Daisy because now the little shit was demanding a harem. That way if she wanted to eat one she would still have more. He wiped some blood off his armor and turned around to see Crüe walking over, “Hey if you're feeling tired or you have to lag behind just tell me. A few demons came out to fight so maybe they really are all afraid of you!”

“Crüe” paused awkwardly, “Oh yeah thanks.”

Daisy spoke up, “Just two. I just want one as a backup!”

The Slayer turned back to her arguing, “Daisy you can date multiple demons, and have a little harem, that is not the issue! The issue is you EATING THEM!”

She whipped around to face Crüe, “Stand up for me!”

“I’ll have to stand with the Slayer on this one.” Crüe’s eyes darted over to the man, figuring it was better to agree with the big guy.

In the very next hallway there was another moonpool on the floor. The Slayer explained using a lot of hand motions and gesturing, “So they are saying the Maykr technology is in that big thing in the center. We’ll dive over to that moon pool then walk across.”

Crüe clutched the scuba gear he had pulled off of the actual Crüe. “I took this off, would you mind helping me put it back on?”

The Slayer didn’t really say much; he just went and did it, fixing the demon's gear back up into tip top shape. “I’ll grab you and drag you along so you don’t panic.”

To Crüe that sounded like the most panic inducing thing ever, but he obeyed. Before he knew it they were in the water swimming across to the moonpool. Daisy was a champ, her wings were an unfair advantage though. The Slayer was fine; he didn't particularly enjoy swimming in this much of a high risk area.

Crüe was panicking. He couldn’t handle it between the Slayer having a firm hold on him and the water clinging to his skin. As soon as they were near the moonpool he basically crawled up the Slayer and stepped on the man’s head to escape into the normal air.

The man gave him a little look and Crüe didn’t know what it meant, “That should be the last of it.”

Daisy went up to Crüe and nuzzled against him. “Diving is fun! think of it like being in big dark coffin with spiders! The spiders are fish. Then big snakes that push you side to side!” She shook her hips trying to explain.

Crüe looked horrified.

The Slayer grimaced, “Daisy that is not helping anyone. In fact that is the worst analogy I’ve ever heard.” He grabbed Crüe by the shoulders and hoisted him up, guiding him forwards, “Onwards Crüe!” He leaned in, whispering low enough that the camera and microphone couldn’t pick it up. “You’ll be fine with diving, just relax.”

He nodded confused at how… kind the Slayer was to him, and they stepped into the last hallway. The walls snapped and water rushed in, slamming them around. He sucked in a gulp of water and thrashed about, panicking. It was everywhere pulling him around in an instant he wasn't even sure what direction was upright. The Slayer rushed over and grabbed onto Crüe, putting his respirator and mask back on in a chaos. He then put on his own and rushed over to Daisy who had gotten hers on by herself.

He pulled them both along as he swam through the strong swirling current and they got into the main spire. The entire thing was flooded and the Slayer swam down, prying a cap off of a grate, and watching as the water drained down. He then hauled them up onto a tiny hunk of dry land that was supposed to be an elevator.

Crüe was breathing heavily and coughing up the water he choked on, that had happened so fast he couldn’t even comprehend what had happened. “Holy fuck.”

“I’ll go get this in working order, you two stay here ok?” He crawled up the elevator shaft and disappeared from view.

Crüe was uncomfortable with this gargoyle right beside him. It was breathing heavy and sort of disgusting looking. It didn’t even have blades which was sort of pathetic. He couldn’t worry about her too much. This next arena would be when he finally got to fight the Slayer. He wondered how his father was doing, he seemed to have a grateful look on his face as they took him to the command room. Of course, that might have just been the paralytic.

The elevator platform rose up. The Slayer got on and they rose up to the main event.

As soon as they were up “Crüe” got ready to reveal his true identity. The Slayer simply hurried off the elevator and rushed over to the door. It was supposed to be locked, but instead it opened right up and he waltzed right down the hallway and opened the door to the Seraphim’s chamber.

Crüe stood there baffled and was now panicked as his grand plan fell apart in front of his eyes to something as stupid as one unlocked door. He dipped off to the side, moving out of the Slayer’s line of sight and took out a walkie-talkie, calling Devo, “What the fuck do I do?!”

He shouldn’t have forgotten about the little gargoyle though. Daisy hadn’t gone down and followed after the Slayer. She had been suspicious but now as she looked up at “Crüe” she saw he was missing the extra spike on his horns. The door the Slayer walked through shut, leaving them alone, mano o mano.

Haine smiled down at her, trying to feign ignorance, “Oh hey Daisy.”

Her jaws snapped open in a terrifying bouquet of teeth and saliva as she leapt up towards him.

Chapter 95: Something New

The door shut behind him, the Slayer was too shocked by what he saw to hear the fight behind him. The hallway opened up into a beautiful, circular room covered in the overly colorful, neon Maykr tech. In the center a cylinder of light surrounded by three glowing bands held the beast back. This wasn’t Maykr technology, this was a whole ass Angel trapped below the surface of the ocean. It hovered in the light, adorned in a bright red robe, only some tentacles, its arms, and its odd looking metal face were visible. He got on comms, “Samuel, Elena what the fuck am I looking at? I thought we were getting technology.”

Samuel responded, “I’m-“

A sort of nerdy high pitched voice cut him off, ah that Intern kid, “Sir, all scans indicate that he’s the technology we need. We thought it was just going to be a guide map to Urdak, but… it’s actually a Maykr.” He seemed awestruck.

The Slayer strode forwards and watched as the angel reached his hand out of the bands that slowly circled around him. He hesitated, at the movement the angel showed, yet he still put away his gun trying to show he meant no harm.

The angel's voice was strained and robot-sounding at first, almost like he was groggy from first waking up. “Welcome, Slayer. I can be your guide and help you restore the balance to Urdak. I am the Seraphim.” His metal face somehow smiled and he spoke, his voice echoing around the room, “You don’t remember me, do you? Well… won’t you take my hand?” The Seraphim reached out a clawed hand, his robes fluttering in the breeze created by the ventilation system.

Despite everything screaming at him to run away, he was curious and reached out, gently touching the fingertips of the angel. The Seraphim grabbed his hand hard, pulling him. He used his other hand to yank off his helmet and touch his forehead.

It was like blinding light had been shot right through his skull. He cried out his body writing from the pain that was spreading across his chest.

Then he remembered. When he was in the sentinel world, fighting alongside them, a great demonic titan called the Dreadnought attacked. He tried to fight it off, but he was only a man. It hit him so hard he flew off a roof and landed in the attic of a barn, his heart started to struggle to beat.

He was laying there trying to remember his life before the demons. Hay swirled around in the air, making his eyes swell up. His heart was giving out and failing with each passing moment. He could see the Dreadnought rear up and slam its fists down, he closed his eyes not able to bear seeing the damage, but the sounds of an explosion and screams rang in his ears.

Then he showed up. He grabbed him, pulled up out of the hay and rushed him away from the fight. He forced him to stand up before a great machine despite his heart being on its last legs. The pain was so great his heart stopped for a moment. When he finally was out of the machine, he killed the Dreadnought and went from the Doomguy to the DoomSlayer. He was no longer a man, but a god.

He thought he had erased that memory from his head, covered up the mysterious figure who rushed in and saved him. He could remember it now, he could feel the way his heart was one beat off.

He came to laying on the floor, gasping for air. He was disoriented and dizzy, and felt like he might lose his breakfast. The Seraphim loomed over him. Still trapped. “I’m shocked you didn’t remember me, but I’m glad we share the same memories once more.” He reached out once more, and the Slayer flinched away, making the angel feel pity. “I can see there are a few operating systems on the ARC Carrier that can process my functions and allow me to help you, ah in fact one I personally designed. Do I have your permission to take it over?”

The Slayer assumed the Intern knew what technology stuff the angel was discussing so he nodded a yes. “You know, I tried to erase that out of my head for a damn good reason.” He wiped some spit off his lip, still not ready to stand upright.

“Ah my design has a password now, let me try and crack it. You humans are predictable.” The Seraphim paused for a moment entering information with his mind, then he returned to face the Slayer, “You hate feeling weak. It’s fine we all do don’t-“

“You erased the goddamn molecule of humanity I had left.” The Slayer snarled at him and struggled to his feet, swaying heavily.

He raised a brow, “Oh so you’d rather be human, you’re one of those types. Well I suppose I could have just left you to die with your heart exploding in a dirty barn.”

That sounded aggressive and the Slayer felt anger bloom in his chest, his face darkening, “Hey-“

“Please,” the Seraphim waved his hands, silencing the conversation, “I hold no grudges. I’ve seen humans enjoying weirder things than wanting to fit in with society.”

The Slayer pulled away and walked around the little room the Seraphim had, his mind racing at all the new information that had been dumped on him. He faced away from the angel and put his helmet back on. “Am I supposed to be breaking you out of there or-“

“The system is still being cracked. Once I have the energy from it I’ll be able to exist out of this little bubble of energy. Fascinating isn’t it.”

“I hate nerd stuff.” He responded, shutting the angel up and giving him time to think back to his first moments as the Doom Slayer.

Back at the carrier Samuel looked around taking his headset off, “What operating system here needs a password?”

The Intern leaned over, “The portal tech I believe?” He pulled its information up and shook his head, “No, not that.”

Samuel felt his fans kick up their whirring and he waved at his chest vets, cooling down his circuits. “Is it the potable water operating system?“

The supervisor shook his head, “That was taken off of a password for maintence’s sake. I can’t think of any operating systems that have the entire thing locked behind a password.”

Elena shrugged and rubbed her face, her hand brushing over her scars, “Well hurry up and bring the IT guys up here just in case it does damage to anything. I can’t imagine he wouldn’t wreck a system. I don’t think an angel would be a one gigabyte update file.”

The Seraphim finally spoke up, “Well now I’m embarrassed the password was really only ‘1234’ and it took me so long to crack it.”

The Slayer watched as the bands pulled up into the ceiling and out hovered the angelic Seraphim.

Samuel’s blood ran cold on the ARC carrier. His fans revved up as the overwhelming presence of a god in his mind took over. He felt like his core was melting, he couldn’t get cool. Most of all, he regretted changing his password. Samuel finally managed to cry out, his hands gripping the arms of the chair. It was just a strangled, warped cry, but as soon as Elena looked over she understood what was happening.

“The Seraph is taking him over!” She grabbed Samuel’s head and helped along with a dozen other people to get him out of the chair and onto the floor.

Samuel had always expected his particular death to be peaceful. His brain should finally fade out while his titanium body would contain stores of his memory and knowledge for future generations to study. He felt his operating system fry out. His senses blew out one by one he couldn’t feel, he couldn’t hear, he couldn’t-

A fuse that was supposed to be holding back a crippling dose of electricity from his brain failed to blow out. His body jolted one more, arms and legs flailing wildly, time then laid still. His optic went from blue, skipped the orange color it faded to when he shut down, to off as his optical glass burst, raining down over the people around him.

The Slayer had only heard chaos from the mic, he brought up his shotgun to face the Seraphim, “What’s happening?”

His form flickered and he hissed in pain, “The system I designed failed!” He quickly pulled up another one and broke into that. He struggled, pain splitting across his body, a bit of purple flesh oozed out of the cracks in his armor that weren't covered by his red robe. He quickly got into a different system, picking communications as a decent replacement, and his thrashing stopped. “That’s accelerated my transfiguration, we have to hurry. Get back to the ARC carrier. I have to be stabilized. The humans can help me.” He looked to the sky and was teleported away in a glow of golden particles.

The Inten was over the comms completely frantic, “Slayer, he tried to take over Samuel’s operating systems. It fried him! He is in critical condition. He’s hurt bad!”

The Slayer paused hearing the haunting cries of Elena, “The Seraph is heading to the ARC now. Take care of him, he got hurt by that too, but don’t let him out of your sight.”

“Ok I’ll tell the ARC soldiers-“

“No, don’t let him out of your sight. I trust you. Now get me a portal back to the carrier!” He paced around the room, worried about Samuel and he already didn’t trust this angel.

“Thank you Doomguy. I won’t let you down!” The intern was pulling up the portal despite the chaos around him. His hairs stood on end as he felt the seraph teleport somewhere behind him.

When it appeared in front of him, the Slayer felt relief, then he realized Crüe and Daisy never came inside with him. He rushed away from the portal, and out into the arena. “Crüe, Daisy?!”

The marauder was sitting down, out of breath, and covered in bites and scratches beside a violently shaking crate. His eyes snapped up to the Slayer and he slowly rose to his feet.

“Crüe what happened, are you ok-“ The Slayer finally caught up with Daisy and noticed all the differences that in the chaos of diving and panic he had missed. His worried expression switched to a panicked terror, “Who the fuck are you!?”

Two portals opened up on the other side of the arena. A red marauder with bright green eyes stepped out, his armor smoldered with the flames of hell. Out of the other a Baron with a horrifically twisted horn stepped out, carrying Crüe's body. The demon was limp, his eyes fluttered wildly. He was attempting to move and struggle, but it was pathetic. The Baron set him down on the floor and gave the Doomguy a grin.

The Slayer took a step back surveying his enemies. He was already low on ammo. He hadn’t chainsawed anything his entire mission. He didn’t even have a round of BFG ammo. “What the hell did you do to him?”

They didn’t speak, they closed in on the man, dragging axes and heavy boots closer and closer.

He lunged at the impersonator and tackled him to the ground. Giving him a good punch right in the face. It felt wrong, he felt sick punching what looked like Crüe.

The red one was on his ass in a second, grabbing him by his grenade launcher, breaking it in the process, and throwing him out into the middle of the arena. He landed on his feet and spun around. Bringing up his shotgun and firing at the Baron. The first shot made it flinch and the second chipped off a piece of horn and the third never happened because he was out of ammo.

He switched to his heavy cannon and dashed backwards, getting out of the fray of demons charging him. He got another two shots in on the Baron before he ran out of shots yet again.

Fuck.

His ballista was in his hand and as soon as he got a clear shot, he blasted the red marauder in the shoulder. The marauder stumbled to the floor for a moment then sprung up.

The Slayer shot his ballista again, firing a shot at the impersonator. He went to aim for the Baron and he found once again he was out of ammo. He took out his rocket launcher, he only had one rocket left and was now terrified. He had backed himself into a corner and was quickly running out of ideas.

He was trapped, no ammo, no Vega to guide him, no Samuel coming in for backup, his team too injured or trapped to stand beside him. In that moment he realized how much he needed Crüe and Daisy, but now the only option he had left was to fight like hell.

He sprung forwards, taking his blade out and slicing the inside of the Baron’s leg as he darted between its muscular legs. He went to punch the red marauder, but he grabbed his fist, grinning back at him. He felt a deep satisfaction and went to engage his blade once more, but the imposter rushed in and tackled him to the ground before he got the chance. He turned and punched him, tossing the marauder off of him. He was still on the floor, the baron was charging him down, he used his last rocket and aimed at the beast’s skull. The red marauder kicked his launcher out of his hands and he missed, wasting his last rocket, entirely.

He tried rushing to his feet, but he felt a sharp kick right in his ribs. He went down, again. A boot came crashing down on his chest, he couldn’t even attempt to stand now his chest and ribs hurt so bad. The imposter walked over slowly, dragging his axe across the floor. “You will die for what you did to Crüe!”

The Slayer tried to look over, but once again got his ribs stomped on by the other marauder. He couldn’t muster anything beyond a strangled little, “Fuck you!”

The imposter placed his armored boots on either side of the Slayer’s head and raised his axe.

The Slayer looked up at the demon, still hating the eerie resemblance he had to Crüe. The only real giveaway now was the fact one of the red contacts had popped out, resulting in some impromptu heterochromia. Maybe if they killed him, they would let Crüe go. Just as the axe swung he shut his eyes. Instead of hearing his armor melt and flesh begin to sear, he heard the sound of horns snapping off. He looked up to see the imposter’s tall horns gone, and Crüe standing shakily behind him, holding both horns.

“Who the fuck are you, bastards?” He pushed his imposter over and swept his legs out from under him, sending him writing in pain on the ground.

The red marauder winced at the violence facing his companion, “Crüe we can handle this. Don’t make us dose you again.”

“You paralyzed me! You drugged me!” He cried out.

The Slayer tried to move away, and got stomped again by the red marauder.

Crüe gave the marauder a horrific look, baring his fangs. “Don’t you touch him!” He closed the gap in an instant and punched the red marauder in the face.

He spun around and gasped, wiping the blood off his nose. “Crüe, we are just trying to help you! How don’t you remember me!” He grabbed him and tried to pull him in.

He grabbed the demon by the shoulders and interlocked their tall horns. He had to flex every muscle in his neck, spine and legs, but he hooked the demon and tossed him over his head. The red marauder landed hard on the floor, and gasped in pain.

The Slayer was finally up, leaving behind a DoomGuy shaped divot in the floor, and rushed to Crüe. “We have to get Daisy and get the fuck out of here-”

The Baron had just been watching and waiting while the two marauder’s fought. She stepped in now and grabbed Crüe and the Slayer by their necks like they were kittens. “Devo, you shouldn’t have underestimated your brother. Haine, good job on getting the Slayer to use his ammo and leave him defenseless. Now observe.” She tossed the Slayer to the ground and threw Crüe towards Haine. When Crüe hit the ground it dazed him, making him yelp out.

The Slayer landed on his feet and charged the Baron. She stepped to the side and crushed him underfoot. Her hoof connected to his upper back, knocking the wind out of his chest. As soon as she lifted her hoof up he managed to roll over, and attempted to block the next blow to his chest. She reared up and slammed her fists down into his face instead. His visor shattered, spraying glass all over his face, and making his ears ring. She reared up again and this time there was no Crüe to swoop in and save him. As soon as her fists connected with his face a second time, she hit him so hard his limp body bounced up off the floor and his vision went black. All semblance of conscience faded from his mind.

Haine grabbed Crüe and forced him to the ground, the demon didn’t fight him this time. He was focused on the Slayer’s limp body. He felt the imposter lean down beside him, “Are you gonna be friendly or are you gonna need to be paralyzed again?”

Crüe took a deep breath, tears running down his face, “I’ll be friendly.” He sobbed as soon as the words left his mouth. “Just don’t kill him, please.” He felt warm blood run down from the broken horns on the imposter's head and land on his forehead.

Haine ignored the throbbing pain coming from his snapped off horns and looked over to Devo. He felt like he was holding a nuclear bomb, like he was the dog that had finally caught the car. “Help me out.”

Devo stumbled over, beaten and tired. He kept casting glances at the DoomSlayer held in Bell’s arms. “Crüe, come on, let's get you up.”

Haine nodded, and helped the demon stand, “Crüe we’ll get you into the portal and back to hell. Everything will be ok.’

The demon was terrified, he didn't want to go back to hell, he didn’t want to leave earth, “Wait, what about Daisy?” He was met with a blank stare from both of them and assumed they forgot her name after such a chaotic fight, “The gargoyle?”

Haine glanced over at a locked crate that was letting out a low growl. “Fine.” He waited as Devo took the weight of Crüe and walked over to the crate, he took the lock off and rushed back to the safety of being near Bell and Devo.

Daisy burst out, and rushed over. She bared her fangs at all of them, but realized the clusterfuck of a situation she had walked into. The Slayer was out of it and being held by a Baron. Crüe had a haunted look on his face and was staring at Daisy like she was his lifeline.

“Daisy, please, don’t attack.” Crüe’s voice trembled, and he glanced over at the Slayer. They will kill you. At this moment he wasn’t sure if he should have her run away for help, or follow for an escape, but luckily he didn’t have to make that decision.

She scurried over to his side, looking up at him, playing the perfect part of a little pet gargoyle. “Oh, ok, I go with you now, I go with all marauders now.” She tried to stay strong for Crüe as they were dragged into the portal, but her wings trembled in fear.

The Slayer had fallen and they were returning to hell.

The ARC would have been in less chaos if it were on fire than what was happening at this moment. Samuel was heavily injured and basically a brain in a jar on a more than usual amount of life support. Elena was manning disaster after disaster and a complete mess. The Intern watched from the Slayer’s point of view as he was knocked out and dragged out hell out of one eye and out of the other he watched the squid-angel creature they dredged up from the bottom of the ocean ooze out more purple flesh between its armor. Somewhere in the fray Daisy’s children had run off into the vents, terrified for their mother’s safety. Not to mention as soon as the Slayer went through the hellish portal they lost contact entirely. The icing on the cake was Crüe’s horrific prophetic dreams about his family had actually without a doubt verifiably come to life and they were now facing two more of the most dangerous super heavy demon’s known to man.

Elena was sitting in a command chair, the Intern was shaking like a leaf beside her, and the supervisor was throwing up in a trashcan somewhere behind her. The love of her life had been taken down to the med-bay and she was so scared he was going to leave her. She hadn’t even gotten to say goodbye for fuck’s sake. “Intern, kid, get some sort of reading on the Slayer. I know his camera is broken, but get me a mic or a speaker or a sensor, something, anything.”

The Intern was too scared to tell her his name or to do anything other than keep an eye on the Seraph and desperately search for a signal that would prove the Slayer was still in one piece.

Chapter 96: Something Borrowed

Despite their promise of no more paralysis as long as he behaved, Bell forced Haine to give Crüe another injection as soon as they were through the portal and surrounded by demons. Maybe they gave some to Daisy too, he struggled to remember anything. Crüe had some vague memories of being dragged through hellish hallway after hallway. It looked a lot like Nekravol, which was weird.

When he finally came too, he was laying down in a big plushy bed. There were furs and warm cotton blankets bundled around him. He even had a bunch of nice pillows. As he sat up to look around whatever room or cell he was in, he became acutely aware that his neck was stiff and achy from whatever they injected him with. His eyes were swollen and aching and his head was pounding.

Giving himself a quick once over and checking for injuries, he stretched and felt his hand brush something on the pillow beside him. It was a little paper letter, addressed to him.

What the actual hell was happening?

He grabbed it and looked around the room, dazed and confused at why he wasn’t locked up in a cell in the shittiest backwater town this horde could find. He had allied with the Slayer, an unspeakably horrific crime. The room was ornate and beautiful. The headboard of the bed was pushed against a wall, on his right side there were three tall skinny windows that reached all the way to the ceiling. They didn’t have glass in them and were open to the warm air. On his left side was a little low coffee table with three chairs around it in the middle of the floor and a bathroom on the far wall. The walls were carved Nekravol stone and metal, covered in fancy murals showing off hell's greatest wins and the history Crüe had learned so long ago.

He found his hands opening the letter and slowly pulled out the note that was inside. He sort of skimmed it, not having the mental capacity to read all of the note. That was until he started to see the words ‘brother’ and ‘family’ thrown around.

His blood ran cold as he read through the rest of it. It was from that red marauder, Devo. He explained his life how he decided to run away just like Crüe had from their family, how he endured the transformation, and what he had been doing for the past few eons. He explained how he figured a note would let him process stuff at his own pace and how he wanted to introduce him to the other marauder Haine, but he felt like that needed to be done in person, not in a note.

He set the note down on the pillow and struggled to his feet. So his brother was alive and a marauder? Some other random marauder was also existing and no one had ever told him?! It didn’t matter though, he needed to get to the Slayer and get out of this hell hole. He leaned out the window and was quite perturbed at the fact he was hundreds of feet in the air and not able to simply make and escape.

He looked down and saw he was wearing his under armor pants and a random dark red tunic they must have thrown on him. He heard the door click open and he whirled around to face the intruders.

Devo and Haine poked their heads into the room, his possible brother waved at him, “Is it ok if we come in and take a seat?”

Crüe locked eyes with Haine, looking at his busted up face. Surprisingly his horns had grown back already. Their gentle ask wasn’t even dignified with a response from Crüe. He knew they would force their way in even if he said no. He looked down and watched as Devo brought in a little kettle and some cups, setting them down on the coffee table. “Is the Slayer still alive?”

Haine immediately looked over at Devo and motioned about something, Devo shook his head and motioned for Crüe to come over, “He’s still alive. Bell sees no need to kill him immediately.”

Haine spoke up, “Daisy is also ok. We checked in on her before we came here. Look,” he held up his hand revealing a fresh bloody nip, “some proof.”

Crüe walked over and sat down, even with them all sitting, he was a few noticeable inches taller than them. “Why haven’t you killed him, me, and Daisy?” He supposed they both could be lying, he didn’t trust that Haine guy.

Devo straightened up and took a little breath, “We saw a broadcast. You were both talking about being a ‘couple.’ We figured he had done some horrific things to you to convince you of something like that, so we came out and we rescued you.” He gave the marauder a huge smile, and he looked like he was expecting Crüe to fall to his feet thanking him for helping him.

Crüe sat rigid in his seat and his eyes darted all over him. Then he looked down for a second remembering the way the Slayer had fought him on coming out as a couple. He hated being wrong about the fact that it would be no big deal, especially like this. He struggled to find the words, but eventually spoke up, “Devo we do actually love each other. He didn’t trick me into anything.”

The demon shook his head, “Crüe we know you need time to rest, and repair your mind-“

“Oh fuck off,” he gripped the arms of the seat and leaned forwards, snarling at him, “I’m not under his control! Didn’t you hear us talking cause I’m assuming it was one of you messing with those stupid traps.”

His loud outburst only made him more anxious. He was living his worst nightmare, confined to hell, and put on trial for allying with the Slayer. Crüe wanted to cry as he thought of all the ways both him and the Slayer would be torn apart.

Devo cut him off, “Before we argue about that. I think we talk about our relation to one another.” He poured water into some of the cups and emptied out a packet of dried blood into each one. He tried to keep the conversation light, and keep Crüe’s broken mind off the Slayer, “I bet you haven’t had this in a while.”

He reached out taking a cup, looking up at Devo’s face while he did, seeing the unmistakable features of his brother he thought he lost so long ago. It looked just like the photo he had found. Speaking of, he had a long list of questions about why the hell Devo had killed someone on earth. Now he sort of wondered if the Slayer still had it. He drank it down and nodded, “Last time it made me sick.”

There was an awkward pause as they all drank.

“So,” Crüe spoke up, probing for information as he was genuinely curious, “You claim to be my brother.” He pointed at Devo, and turned to Haine, “Who are you?”

Haine finished the blood brew and set his empty cup down on the table, glancing over to Devo for assurance, “I’m your son.” Before Crüe could react he continued, “I know marauders can’t have kids, but you must have gotten some sentinel pregnant just before you left to become a marauder.” He poured more blood and looked away while he drank another cup.

Crüe was frozen and confused, he set his cup down and thought for a moment, “I didn’t even know.” He was promiscuous, especially just before he left. It was a self hatred sort of thing, to fuck his feelings out of himself. He never expected for some poor woman to have to deal with his mistake and then for his son to have to bear the weight of his sins for his entire life. He wanted to apologize, but it felt too weak, too worthless after so much wrong.

He couldn’t even believe it.

Why should he believe it?

He shook his head and stood up, “As far as I know you're both telling me some stupid sob story to get me to return to hell. Take me to the Slayer right now.”

Haine looked up at him, with betrayal on his face, “But-”

“Shut the hell up and take me there before I start beating up your sorry asses again.” His lip was curled in an enraged snarl. “My brother died in the invasion, I’m sure they all did, my whole family, and I never had a fucking son.”

Haine’s face burned with shame and rage. He looked like he was about to cry. Devo stood, also angry now, and walked over to Crüe, “You’re a bastard Crüe.”

His hands were balled in fists and it was taking everything he had not to just start swinging. He was already dead, there was no way out. “Well if your story is true everyone in this room is a bastard child. So I fit right in with you. Take me to the Slayer.” Him and Devo were a foot away, casting hateful glances back and forth.

Devo went to object but Haine nodded, his voice sounded strained and tense, “Actually he’s right, let’s take him down right now. I’ll tell Bell we can start the trial.” He got up and left the room, slamming the door shut behind him.

There was a tense silence between Devo and Crüe. Devo couldn’t believe his brother had just snapped at him, and that he even had the audacity to snap at him after he did the impossible of capturing the Slayer just to help him.

“I never remembered you being a dick. I remembered you would stick up for me when I got bullied! You taught me everything because dad didn’t give a shit!” Devo paced around the room, his armor letting out awkward clangs as he walked around.

“Why should I stick up for you now? You expect me to remember this tiny scrawny kid that me and you were centuries ago! You’re not my family and you never will be.” He felt like an idiot as he tried to crawl into the back of his mind and remember his family. All he could find was ash, dust, and a few drugged up dreams, especially with the amount of stress in his mind. A memory wouldn’t be surfacing any time soon. “The Slayer and Daisy are my family.”

“If Bell finds that the Slayer was harming you or that he was trying some sick physiological torture on you to drag you away from hell, she will kill him. So if you want to live, you better stop with the family talk and the ‘love’ talk.” Devo walked out the doors and returned a moment later with some chains and cuffs, he wrapped Crüe up like a christmas present, tying it all together with the sound of the cuffs clicking shut around his wrists.

The demon just stayed focused as he was pulled out of the sanctuary of his room, he was already planning his escape from these cuffs. A short walk and a long painfully annoying elevator ride later and they were on the ground floor of the mansion and he was being escorted outside and down a huge flight of steps that curved around a cliff face. They descended further and further downwards the stairs curving so much they were walking back toward the mansion by the end. Crüe turned to see the cliff face stretching up into the hellish sky where the stairs had been built, it continued on away from the mansion on a curve, disappearing into the distance. The whole area the mansion was built on was like a massive plateau of rock, rising high above the flat, fiery wastelands of hell. There were other plateaus in the distance, speckling the landscape.

Crüe looked at what lay before him. The rocky ground the mansion had been built on had been removed under one of the main spires. It made a deep hollow exposed on two sides to the barren scalding plains of hell. While the other two sides were stone that held the rest of the mansion up and grew into the grand mountain and hills that it had been built on. Against the walls of the deep hollow, Bell stood on a large flat boulder. The flat rock was covered in “evidence” which was basically everything Crüe had on his body at the time of being captured. His axe, his armor, his tool belt, and a variety of little trinkets that had been in his pockets. As he got closer he could see the Slayer chained up across to her. The Slayer was there, still alive, his arms were stretched upwards. He too had on cuffs that were connected by the chains to the metal bands around the rocks of the floor and the very edge of the roof of the cave. His legs touched the floor, thick metal bands connected his ankles to the floor, but his knees hovered a few painful inches above. His head hung down, but the marauder could see his face was bloody and bruised from the fight, the glass in his visor was still sharp and broken, poking his skin.

He was ushered between Bell and the Slayer and stood right at the front of a sparse crowd. The man lifted his head and his whole demeanor changed when he saw Crüe. He let out a loud sob of relief upon seeing him still alive, so loud an Imp standing near him screamed out in fear.

“Slayer.” Crüe whispered under his breath, he felt his breath hitching at the sight of his lover strung up, bloody, and beaten. He took a step back, bumping into Devo. He felt his brother reach up and touch his shoulder. He leaned over and whispered to him. “I know you hate me, but please tell me what can I do to help him? It doesn’t even make sense they think he was trying to hurt me or play tricks on my mind. I don’t even know what I’m supposed to say even if I’d want to help him or hurt him.”

Devo should have put his foot down, stood his ground, and told his brother to shut up. He squeezed his eyes shut and turned to the demon, whispering in his ear. “Bell wants to know if you walked out of hell in a sound state of mind or not.” He couldn’t continue, Haine was tapping on his shoulder.

Haine was still furious that his own possible father rejected him like he was a pile of trash. Pushing a pinky aside, he stepped over to them, grabbing one of the chains attached to his father, “Bell said he’s good to stand right here, but if he gets aggressive we’ll have to move him back and chain him to the cave wall. If he’s a pain in the ass a prowler will speak for him. He’s already made a case against the Slayer with something he found apparently.”

Now a new group of demons was walking down the stairs and over to the deep hollow. Crüe could see the devil’s advocates for lack of a better term Deag Ranak, still didn't know how that guy was alive, a cacodemon hovered nearby, and a hell knight holding a book.

The Slayer’s eyes lit up with fiery rage upon seeing the Deag.

Ok, he could take these guys on. He walked out of hell on his own volition. He could prove that, somehow, but his story would be rock solid because it was true. With the broadcast, he could just be honest and say it was more joking than a serious confession. Humans liked entertainment!

Bell roared out, “All who have gathered here are to witness the trial of the DoomSlayer. If he forced Crüe out of hell, he shall be sentenced to death.” She turned to face the Slayer and snarled at him from across the room, “If we find he tried to manipulate him to bend to his will, he shall die! If Crüe walked out on his own volition he shall be dealt with.” While any other hell lord would have executed him on the spot she thought it would be better to give the man a chance. After reading up on governments she found herself wanting to be a better, more fair leader than any other violent hell lord. Besides, If he was truly coupled with a demon, he could be a powerful ally.

The crowd roared and cheered, Crüe watched and saw a mother cover her child’s ear at the mention of the Slayer, but not of his execution. He saw the Slayer lift his head up a bit more, staring out at the cheering crowd.

“Crüe. Did you walk out of hell with your own two legs?” Bell asked, leaning down to face him.

“Yes.”

Devo and Haine pinched his arms and whispered under their breath, “Crüe!”

“Did the Slayer threaten you in any way?”

Devo went to speak for his brother but he was cut off.

“No.” Crüe glared at Bell and felt Devo pull his chains down, cutting into his flesh.

“What did he say to you then to convince you to go in that portal?”

“Nothing. He doesn’t talk much.”

Devo looked up at Bell horrified. He looked over at the Slayer, terror curling through him. The man was gently shaking his chains, testing their strength.

She gave him a look and continued, “So you just waltzed into an open portal alongside the Slayer?” She laughed and sneered down at him. Waving her hand as if it was cut and dry that the demon was insane.

“No, I carried him in my arms. He was injured. I saved the Hell Walker. I carried him out of Taras Nabad to safety.” Crüe was grabbed by his brothers and forced into a huddle. The prowler rushed out and stood with them.

The room erupted into shocked gasps. Demons yelled out that Crüe had betrayed them and Bell slammed her hoof down for order. She turned her head away and faced the other group of demons, “Is this story true?” She didn’t want to kill or imprison Crüe as she knew how much damage it would do to her dear marauders, but she couldn’t let a slave of the Slayer just vomit out such horrific betrayal without having an uprising in her horde.

The cacodemon hovered forwards and nodded his big dopey head, “They were fighting, very mean. I bite Slayer when he too distracted by the grand fight. He bleeds in my mouth. I go through the armor with teeth. Then he runs and that marauder followed. I watched him tend to the Slayer’s wounds.”

The room went up in cries and wailing again. A hell knight shouted out in a frenzy, “AN EYEWITNESS TO THE BETRAYAL!”

Devo leaned over, and whispered in Crüe’s ear, “If you up and left hell on your own free will Bell will kill you, Crüe!” He could have never imagined that Crüe wasn’t brainwashed completely.

The prowler leaned back and nodded, “You need to refute this claim, Crüe. I’ll do it for you.” He stepped up and spoke calmly to the room, “As you can see my client has been manipulated by the Slayer’s unholy human nature. I have proof of this.”

Bell leaned back, now interested if Crüe was really in his right mind or not. She actually wondered if Devo would even let her kill Crüe.

“Grim, you may step forward.” The prowler turned to the back of the cave and motioned.

Chapter 97: Something Black and Blue

The cave went dead silent except for the gentle crackle of hell fire. Crüe didn’t turn to look at the demon who had led the program to transform him, he felt the air warm around him as a tall archvile clad in a black sash and black shoulder armor stepped forwards.

Grim stretched to his full height and gave a toothy grin at the groups of demons in the trial. “Bell, I can’t help but notice that the man we are trying to convict of a crime isn’t talking. Shall I encourage him to speak up?”

The grand Baron stood and walked off her rock, threatened by the presence of another super heavy, “Do you even have proof?”

The archvile paused for a moment then nodded and reached into his sash, pulling out something. “These were found in the Slayer’s tool belt.” He held his hand above Bell’s and dropped two golden rings down into her palm. “How’s that for proof? Proof that the Slayer was going to force his disgusting tainted soul to be bound onto the marauder’s.”

The minute he saw those rings, Crüe froze. His blood ran cold, his whole world stopped turning and he wanted to swing his axe right into Grim’s skull. A vague wish for Haru to be by his side crossed his mind. “He's never harmed me! I’m the one that betrayed hell!”

Grim ignored him, Crüe was worthless, the Slayer was the one he was after.

Bell held the rings in her hands like the world orbited around them. The crowd screamed and shouted, the Deag and the cacodemon nearly fainted. Bell stepped forwards, handing the rings off to an Imp, “Grim, we will take it from here.”

The archvile laughed, and wagged his finger right in front of the baron's face, “You're just some tiny insignificant hell lord. Those marauders will convince you to let him go, I can smell the weakness on you. I’ll be taking care of the Slayer then you can let that marauder go and have a big happy family reunion.” He gave her a disgustingly pleased smile and motioned over to Crüe, Devo, and Haine. “Though… perhaps we need to make sure Crüe isn’t a traitor?”

“I captured him, kidnapped him.” The man pulled against his chains and looked up, facing Grim, but his eyes darted to Crüe. “He’s brainwashed, don’t believe a word he says.”

Crüe wasn’t just going to let the man sacrifice himself. He drew in a breath about to scream his lungs out, but Haine quickly gagged him with a rag and they began to drag him back towards the cave wall.

“Get him under control!” Grim called out, pointing a flaming finger at Crüe. “I can break any brainwashing you pathetic humans tried to put him under.” He sneered down at the Slayer grabbing his head.

The man looked up, straining his neck and eyes. He seemed defiant with the way he faced the looming horror of the archvile, but he was hurt, his body ached from the baron’s attack. He wasn’t sure even if he got out of the chains that he would be able to fight. His Doom Blade was removed, the grenade launcher broken, and his tool belt was gone.

“It’s about time I’ve gotten my hands on the Slayer.” He reached out his arms so the whole crowd could see. He flexed his hands into a fist then released it quickly, setting his hands and arms ablaze with red hot flames. Every demon rejoiced at the incoming murder of the Slayer.

Bell stomped her hoof but was unable to control the crowd, “I am the hell lord of this horde, and no matter how small and insignificant in your eyes that is my prey. I protect my family and I protect my prey. Step away from the Slayer, he’s mine to kill.” She left it empty with no gruesome threat at the end. She didn’t dare go hoof-to-hoof with Grim.

Grim ignored her weak speech and turned to the man, his hands danced over the poor man’s armored skin. “You seem to have a fixation on my creations. You should be honored to meet their maker. I’ve been fixated on you as well, watching your every move-”

His villainous speech was interrupted by Crüe gnawing through his gag and rushing him, dragging his brother and son along by his chains. “DON’T HURT HIM!” They dug their feet in, but Crüe was stronger.

Grim took a few steps back, leaving the Slayer’s side and watching the demon struggle forward. He was calm and confident until Crüe’s axe shook and out leapt a massive sentinel wolf.

Haru charged Grim, bearing his fangs towards the demon that hurt Crüe. He wasn’t letting him kill the Slayer either. His jaws sunk into the archvile’s forearm and he tried to drag the beast to the ground.

Grim shook him off and crossed the cave with his massive stride. He snatched the marauder’s axe off the stone and smashed it against the floor. It broke into a dozen dazzling pieces, scattering across the floor.

Haru charged at him, throwing his body against the demon in one last attempt to kill him before he was extinguished from creation.

Grim, unbothered by Haru’s snapping and biting, reached down and picked up the very head of the axe and the ornate metal skull that decorated it. With one clawed hand he popped out a little amber shaped stone and held it in his palm. His eyes had a Crüel, uncaring look in them, “I created you.” His hands burst into flame, the fire licking the sides of the stone. “Condensed the power of a sentinel’s wolf into a stronger, bigger, better, hellish version.”

Devo let go of Crüe’s chains for a moment and shouted up at Grim, “Don’t hurt his wolf!”

Haru yelped out in pain and started rolling on the ground, invisible flames scalding his flesh. Grim glared down at him, the flames' reflections visible in his eyes, “And I will end you.” He howled and let out short panicked cries, trying to run over to Crüe. Before he could make it into his dear friend’s arms, Grim crushed the stone in his palm and Haru was gone. There wasn’t even his body fading or a few orange sparks floating away on the wind. It was sudden like flicking a light switch.

Crüe just screamed, feeling the shared pain of his heart being ripped out. His eyes had a haunted look in them, Haru’s cries still ringing in his ears. He couldn’t stand and collapsed to the ground, hitting the stone floor was the only thing he could feel beyond his own heart breaking. Devo rushed back to him and the other marauders pulled him back to the edges of the crowd and tried to console him.

Tears poured down the man’s face as he watched Haru die, and heard Crüe’s screams of agony. The Slayer was quickly realizing how utterly fucked he was and looked up at Grim, “Go ahead you fucking ghoul, you’re a coward attacking me when I’m in chains, let this be a fair fight.” He spat out with a grimace under his broken helmet.

Grim crouched down so he could be eye level with the Slayer. “I’m not that stupid.” He reached out and dragged a massive clawed finger from the back of his helmet, around the side, and to his front respirator. He leaned in close whispering into his ear, “How about instead of killing you, I could kill Crüe, your little lover. Cause I know that bitch is a traitor. Then I keep you chained up so you can watch, that sounds nice?” His hand was glowing cherry red as he danced it over the Slayer’s helmet.

His bruised and bloody face squinted at Grim, “You wouldn’t dare touch him. Not with three super heavy demons that want him alive.” The Slayer tried to pull and squirm away from the heat. It made his skin prick with pain and he felt his armor warm under his claws.

Grim continued touching his helmet, dragging his warm fingers over every square inch of it. “Not there… not here, hmm…” he muttered under his breath. “Ahh there we are.” He cooled his flames for a moment reaching under the Slayer’s helmet and pulling two cords. The man’s armor slid off his body instantly, leaving only his thin undersuit to protect him. Grim’s claws sunk into the man’s throat feeling the man’s flesh sizzle and burn, sloughing off.

For a brief moment the Slayer tried to stay composed and withstand the pain. He tried to bow his head to protect his neck and get the fiery hand off of him. That only lasted a second then he let out a blood curdling scream. He tried to pry himself away from the awful heat, shaking the chains holding him like he was possessed. The smoke coming from his burning flesh burnt just throat and lungs. He couldn’t breathe, he could barely scream out over the cheering and applauding crowd. He could hear Crüe’s screaming start up again.

Grim’s voice towered over him, speaking over his wails of pain. “You never spoke before you met the humans on the ARC. I wonder what they did to you to fix your disgusting flesh?” His fingers dug in his soft neck, doing as much damage as he could. “And I wonder how fast it will take me to break all their hard work?”

The man’s sobs were getting more desperate and animalistic; his words weren’t coming through anymore, just agonizing screams and shouts as the flesh on his neck melted away, cooking him alive. He could now taste his own flesh burning. His body forced him to vomit but the stomach acid only made it half way up his throat before being boiled to gas and whistled through his teeth like a kettle. He was no longer making any noises that sounded like words.

Crüe was up on his feet. He tried escaping out of his chains, pulling away from the marauders desperately, “YOU BASTARDS! HELP HIM! HELP HIM!”

The Slayer could clearly hear what Crüe was saying, but he couldn’t react. He couldn’t even look over at his lover one last time. He just kept bowing his head to protect what he could of his neck and resigned himself to suffer as he thrashed about in his chains. All he hoped was that Crüe and Daisy, wherever she was, survived this. He slowly stopped fighting his head hanging limp and his thrashing stopping entirely. His vision went black and his hearing faded.

Grim was bored by this, and as soon as the man was no longer responding to his jabs and prying questions he was satisfied with the damage he caused. He did want to ensure death though. He placed his left hand on the Slayer's stomach. He focused, closing his eyes and letting his face relax, cranking up the heat, and cooking the man alive. The was the distinct feeling of the man’s skin welling up with blisters that bubbles up between his fingers. Not to mention the sight of his flesh getting so hot his muscles began to catch on fire. The flames curled up around his sides like the tender hands of a lover. The scene warmed Archvile's cold heart.

The odd silence coming from the Slayer was sickening to some, but lovely to the grand majority of the demons. His head hung down, the black charred flesh visible on his neck. His stomach was now similarly burnt and charred.

Crüe took another few steps towards his lover's burning body and Grim leaned down over him. His brother and son held him back with everything they had. He turned on a dime, pinning the chains under his foot, sending them both toppling forwards onto the floor. He pried himself out of his cuffs and he was finally free. He rushed over and raked his claws across Grim’s ugly face.

The archvile cursed and jumped backwards only for an angry gargoyle to fly into the cave and tackle him to the ground. Daisy slashed his face and chest, tearing the sash of his body. “I KILL! I KILL ALL!” All it had taken was one little bite on Haine’s hand and the marauder was too scared to reach out and put the final latch on her cage. He was a young fool! Now she was free to save the Slayer and-

She looked over to see Crüe freeing the man from his chains. The Slayer just slumped into his arms, blood freely dripping from his face, neck, and stomach. His armor was broken and in a scattered pile around him.

Daisy rushed over and snapped the last cuff off the man and snarled at any demon coming close to them.

Crüe clutched the man to his chest and ran towards the stairs. He made eye contact with Bell who wasn't making an attempt to help him or stop him; she instead grabbed Grim and held him down, shouting about him stealing prey. He could see demons rushing down the stairs and aborted that mission, instead he ran alongside the cliff face, following its gentle curve to the left. He could look up to see thousands of tons of stone stretching into the sky. Daisy flew alongside him, “Up ahead tiny cave!” She dove into a small crack in the rocky cliff face; it was well hidden, and they were just out of sight of the demons. Crüe handed the Slayer to her and stuffed himself inside. The tiny crack opened up into a nice little room. There was a doorway-like hole in the wall opposite to the entrance. They laid the Slayer down on his back, Crüe leaned down, “Wake up. Open up your eyes.” He frantically looked around for any med kit, or anything that would help.

The man’s eyes fluttered and he made a little gurgling noise. He was making eye contact at Crüe, but his breathing was labored and he winced in pain every time he was touched.

With as much gentle and tender care he could give, he took the man’s helmet off, shaking it free of glass shards from the broken visor, and put it on Daisy’s head, “My horns won’t fit, get ARC on the line. Tell them to open up a portal.” He leaned down to the Slayer again, looking at the extensive wounds he had. His black under armor clothing had melted into the charred skin of his stomach and chest making for a horrific sight. Odd, unnatural flaps of flesh and fabric hung off his body. Crüe was afraid to touch anything for fear of making the situation worse. “I can’t lose you too.” Tears had been running freely down his face since Haru- he cut himself off with a sob.

The man opened his mouth but no words came out. His breathing continued but now the adrenaline was wearing off and the full force of the pain was hitting him. He was squirming a bit more and gritting his teeth.

He couldn’t tell if he was with it, or too injured to understand what had happened. Crüe struggled to look at his lover's injured face, “You made rings.” His voice cracked and he sobbed over his Slayer, “They were beautiful, we'll get married ok?”

He closed his eyes and tried to move his head to look over at Daisy, but pain bloomed through his body. He just gagged out and stopped moving, squeezing his eyes shut.

Daisy put the helmet down, “I not find them! It not listening to me! They won’t talk back!” She wailed out scared and terrified.

The dawning realization that it was just him and Daisy hit Crüe at that very moment. A horde of demons was rushing over to their location, and would undoubtedly be able to find them quickly. The Slayer was barely functioning and needed a medical evacuation immediately. Crüe didn’t even have a weapon, and Daisy didn’t even have her armor. His heart sank and twisted in his chest. “Let’s get him stable then we’ll try and get ARC again. They have to be looking for us. Daisy, come here, hold his head.”

She rushed over and held him close, but not close enough to harm his flesh. “I do not have healing pack.” Daisy actually started to cry, making sure none of her tears fell on the Slayer’s skin.

Crüe looked around frantically, hoping one would be conveniently sitting in the cave or fall into his lap as a gift from god. In a last ditch effort he checked the man’s helmet, hoping there was a secret compartment or something, anything. Yet, there was nothing. He looked down at his tunic and stripped it off his body. For a moment he fumbled on the ground, grabbing at the rocks on the floor of the cave until he found one sharp enough. He cut the fabric into fat chunks and started wrapping his wounds.

The Slayer would gasp and thrash, trying to fight the pain of the fabric loosely pressing against his flesh. His brows furrowed in and his hands twitched which was the entirety of his attempt to push Crüe away.

“I need to cover it. I know it hurts.” Crüe ended up only able to cover his neck and half of his stomach, his lower belly was oozing blood. He could see fat and muscle clearly through charred flesh and was surprised the man hadn’t gone into shock. “Daisy I’ll hold him, try and get ARC’s attention again.” He held the man’s hands letting him know that he was still there.

She spun around and grabbed his helmet then let out a vicious snarl.

Crüe turned to see Deag Ranak standing in the doorway that led to the rest of the cave system, he hunched his body over the Slayer shaking with fear; yet, still he tried protecting him the best he could. “Please, he's injured. Don’t hurt him anymore.”

The Deag opened his mouth to speak, but he was pushed to the side. Devo and Haine rushed in, both their chests were heaving from the effort of running all the way through the caves to find Crüe. “Crüe don’t run anymore.” Devo pleaded, breaking his tough guy persona he had put on as soon as Crüe snapped at him back in the mansion.

“Stay away from him!” Crüe cradled the Slayer so close he could feel he was hurting the man’s burns. The Slayer gagged out a wordless pained cry and tried to push himself away.

“Grim went too far killing your wolf.” Devo gave a quick hand motion to Haine, making him stand down to the side, “He’s gonna die if you don’t get him out of here. You have no connection to the humans, or any medical supplies. Let us help.”

Daisy snapped at both of them and backed up to stand beside Crüe. The demon’s eyes darted between the three standing figures in the cave trying to figure out any other way of escaping this without their help. He couldn’t trust his possible family, and he definitely couldn’t trust a hell priest! Despite every molecule in his body screaming for him to drop the Slayer and run to save himself from whatever tortures hell and devised for him, he gave in for the tiny chance he could save the Slayer and that this wasn’t a trap. “I need to get back to ARC.”

The Deag finally got a chance to talk, “We can get you a portal then. I have a small workshop I set up in these caves. I have a radio I could use to contact the ARC.” He reached out an old decrepit hand and tried giving Crüe a comforting smile, but he looked like a disgusting zombie. Daisy even growled.

Haine shuffled forwards; he wasn't quite sure what to do, but the situation was so tense he had to help out somehow. “I can help you carry him.”

He helped the injured man into the enemy's arms. Haine hooked his hands under the man’s arms while Crüe grabbed his legs.

The Deag walked out of the cave first. Haine and Crüe followed while Devo and Daisy picked up the rear. Crüe looked down at the Slayer’s limp body. His eyes fluttered as they roughly shuffled him along. He expected the man at any second to leap up and attack. It just felt so wrong seeing the Slayer injured and unconscious.

The Deag led them along a thin and narrow passageway, deep under the rocks. He was rambling on about it being good to know every crevice in hell. Finally it opened up into a decently sized cave. Some med packs were stacked in a corner, some books laid on a small low table. He shoved them off and motioned for the marauders to lay the Slayer down. “Tilt his head back too.” He knelt down and began his examination. “It’s good to see you again, Crüe.”

The demon struggled to even comprehend what the Deag had spoken; he was so focused on the Slayer. It was just small talk, he could do that, but he decided he didn’t have the effort to say anything beyond what he needed to get the Slayer home.

He took out a small makeshift flashlight, lifted up the chunks of tunic acting as a dressing, and examined the wounds on his stomach then his neck, he glossed over the bruises on his face. He quickly reached down under the table and pulled out a small radio. The Deag motioned for Daisy to hand over the Slayer’s helmet. She snarled at him, but gave it up so he could plug it into a little machine. He hurriedly applied some gauze and some sort of slimy paste to help soothe the burns but the man was still bleeding and half conscious.

Haine wanted to say something. He wanted to ask if his father was really going to leave him and Devo again. Sure the Slayer needed help, but after all this time his father was three feet away from him and he couldn’t even muster up the words to beg not to be abandoned. Despite getting shoved away earlier, he still needed the marauder to acknowledge him in some way. He couldn’t just have his father toss him to the side and forget about him; he couldn’t bear it.

Deag spoke into the mouthpiece of the radio. “ARC do you copy? This is Deag Ranak. We have the Slayer. He needs medical assistance.”

The radio let out a weird hiss then responded. The intern’s warped voice spoke out, “This is ARC we hear ya. What’s your coordinates?” There was a quick pause and the sound of the intern being yelled at before Elena’s voice was on the line, “Put the Slayer on.”

Crüe rushed forwards not losing the chance. He pushed the Deag away and spoke to Elena, his voice was ragged and full of fear, “It’s me, Crüe. The Slayer is hurt, I don’t know if he’s even conscious right now. Open a portal, please.”

She paused again for a moment, thinking carefully before caving, “Coordinates.”

The Deag began listing off the extensive coordinates needed for them to produce a portal under a hundred tons of stone.

“SLAYER!” A loud voice echoed down the skinny hallway and all three marauders rushed over to see what was happening.

Grim was charging down the hallway as best he could with Bell right on his ass, her horns getting caught on every rock and stone.

Devo took out his axe and stood by the doorway starting down the charging archvile, “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“Portal’s up,” Ranak yelled out and right behind Devo on the far wall appeared a glowing blue portal. “Crüe take him!”

Daisy dove into the portal, clutching the Slayer’s helmet, and landed hard on the main deck of ARC. A swarm of military armed guards and medics were rushing around. All eyes glued to the portal.

Crüe picked up the Slayer and rushed over, casting one last glance at his possible brother and son before jumping through. He landed on the ground, the Slayer being pulled out of his grasp by the army of medics. With Daisy rushing alongside him. Then all the sudden he was grabbed and was being yanked backwards through the portal.

He landed in the little cave, his bare shoulders being ripped across the stone, Grim towered over him, his face torn wide open by his claws, “I’m going to kill you, and every last marauder I see.”

Bell reared up and grabbed his face shoving Devo and Haine into Crüe with her other hand. She slammed him into the radio and desk, both snapping under the force. “I can handle this, boys! Don’t come back until I say so!” Then with one hoof she kicked Crüe, Haine, and Devo through the portal, and right onto the main deck of the ARC carrier. Grim’s right hand reached out through the portal, and the portal slammed shut, severing his hand with one clean slice. It fell to the floor right beside Crüe. Now the screams and shouts of panicked ARC workers were all that could be heard.

Notes:

Legit one of my favorite characters is Deag Ranak. Also at least to me it's not entirely fanon he is alive because he is the hell priest that appears when you finish Horde Mode in Eternal.

Have any of y'all actually played Horde Mode? I played it once and never had the time to try it again.

Chapter 98: Heavy Are the Heads that Have Horns

Crüe took a second to move from his position lying down, splayed out on the floor as chaos swarmed around him, as Grim’s hand twitched beside him. Devo was leaning against a desk, scared of the lady who was screaming at him. Haine was huddled on the floor glancing around at the terrifying human world.

When he finally struggled to his feet, he could see the Slayer on a gurney, disappearing into the maze of hallways that was the ARC carrier. He vaguely thought of the fact that he was supposed to be getting proposed to at this very moment. He took one step towards his lover then turned back to look at the two new marauders. He knew the Slayer was in good hands and Daisy would be right by his side, so he bit the bullet and motioned for them to follow him.

Elena rushed over to him, pulling him into a hug, tears were streaming down her face and she could barely speak, “Crüe, you’re alive! You’re alive.”

He nodded his brain struggling to understand anything, “The Slayer was hurt. Haru’s dead.”

“Samuel’s dead too, brain dead.” Tears streamed down her face, running over her misshapen skin graphs. Each one was flushed a different shade of red from crying, “So much happened, it all went wrong. Are they… dangerous?” She motioned over to the two other marauders. “These past two days have been hell.” She pulled away.

Crüe could barely realize it had been two days since he was back on this ship. His mind was still spinning and he couldn’t understand, “I think they might be my brother and son.” He watched as her face went from confusion to surprise then back again, “I can handle them. They won’t be dangerous as long as they are with me.” He grabbed Haine and Devo by their arms.

“Hey!” His possible son yelped out, still dazed and trying to gain an understanding of his new surroundings, “Crüe, wait! We’ll leave don’t-“

He whirled around and snarled at Haine, making Elena jump back, “Stop yelling! I’m taking you somewhere where we can all talk.” Crüe let go of their arms and let them lag behind. He saw fear in both of their eyes and took a moment to close his eyes and stop walking to collect himself so he wouldn’t terrify him more. “Come on, follow me.” He continued walking them up the stairs, down a few hallways, and into a small dark meeting room with a dozen chairs. He vaguely wondered if the new marauders were now beginning to understand how he felt when they had kidnapped him. He shut the door behind them and leaned his head against the frame, sighing loudly. His mind was on a constant loop thinking of Haru, the Slayer, and Samuel. It took everything he had to not tell them both to stay there and run off to go check on the Slayer. His wounds had just been so horrific…

“We’ll be out of here and back in hell as soon as possible.” Devo spoke up, making Haine poke him and give him a wide eyed stare, begging him not to continue. Devo still looked furious and muttered under his breath, “I wouldn’t want to interrupt your life with our stupid sob stories.”

Haine let out a trembling hiss and sunk his claws into Devo’s shoulder, “Mind your words he has just lost his wolf.” He dealt with his fear of their new environment by being on edge and constantly fearful of death.

Despite that scolding being whispered, Crüe heard it, feeling numb at the fact Haru was never going to be coming home and to Devo’s change of tone. Crüe’s eyes opened up and he turned his head to face the two. He moved slowly to not scare them and because he was so tired he could barely function. He leaned his hands against the table, resisting from sitting down. He could feel his energy draining out of his body and tried desperately to keep it together for another few minutes.

Haine seemed overwhelmed by everything in the meeting room, like a startled deer, and kept looking around. “Crüe, will we be able to stay with the humans until Bell gives us the ok to return to hell.”

He didn’t answer that question, but instead responded with another question. This one was specifically for Devo. “Remember mom’s vase?” Crüe asked as he picked up a pen that had been left behind in the room, clicking it a few times just for the satisfaction of doing it. “Not the little green one on the side table, the big white and pink one in the hallway.” He was fairly certain the only reason he could remember them was because they had been in his memory during his last memory of the blowout fight of his parents. “Here it looked like this.” He grabbed a spare piece of paper and sketched out the vase rather shittly and pushed it across the table.

His face faded from a scowl to a neutral glare. Devo blinked, taking time to process what had been asked and the picture in front of him. He opened his mouth, taking another moment to think. All of the sudden, the memory washed over him, it was as if the vase had leapt off the paper and right into his mind, his face went from neutral to a little smile, “The white and pink one… I never got to pay you back for taking the punishment for me.”

Haine was shocked at how Devo’s mood had changed as well as the history between the two. He gave both of them a confused look and Crüe answered, “Devo was playing with a crossbow toy and he shot mother’s vase. The whole thing just crumbled to pieces. I ran over and grabbed the bow off him just in time for my father to come in and beat the living shit out of me.” He provided hand motions for each thing he described. His gaze settled back on Devo, judging his response to the memory.

Devo continued without hesitation, and most importantly, correctly, “He just kept slamming you against everything. He dragged you from the hallway all the way down the stairs and threw you onto the coffee table in the living room. He was weird. He wouldn’t start punching you, but he’d swing you around and crack your skull off every piece of furniture or wall he could find.”

Crüe laughed at his own misfortune and trauma, because what else could he do, “And the screaming.”

“Especially when he was drunk, by the wraiths.” Devo leaned back in his chair and snorted, “I still hear it when I go to bed. Looking back it gets worse if you think about the fact he went out of his way to have us with that other lady.”

Crüe felt the barriers he had put up dissolve and he caved, this had to be his brother. Sure maybe he was desperate because Haru was gone, but he couldn’t stop the feeling that was thrumming in his chest. It was an odd feeling to accept, but no one else could have known him that well. It was like talking to an old friend, “What was the order? Two girls, then me, then another girl, then you, then a girl and their biological son?” Crüe asked, confused about his own family. The order had to be somewhat similar to what he supposed.

“There might have been two kids in between me and you. The son wasn’t dad's, it was mom’s and someone else’s. He could have lied about that though.” Devo also found himself actually enjoying talking to his brother now, “Remember when we grabbed that big head hancho’s son and beat him up for candy.” He had never been so happy to exchange stories with another demon before, and he wondered if things would just go back to normal if they stayed with the humans. Maybe after all this time him and Crüe would be brothers once more.

Crüe put his head in his hands and looked at Devo, his eyes bulging out of his skull, “You mean Valen’s son? We all got our teeth nearly kicked in for that one. I don't even think father cared about our behavior, he was just pissed that his boss was pissed at him.” He wondered why at the slightest suggestion from Devo he was having memories flood back into his mind. He wondered if the wild dreams those blood smoothies gave him pulled up memories in the same way. Crüe nodded his head at Haine, “What about you? Start from the beginning.”

The marauder blinked, scared at being put on the spot, “I was a sentinel for less than forty eight hours. I don’t know how they figured out I was your son, but I went through the same radiation, and powder, liquid, and injections you two went through. Don’t remember it though. I was mostly raised by Deag Nilox.” Haine took a breath and shrugged, wishing he had stories he could share to prove he was Crüe’s son. Of course, he was quite glad to not have to talk anymore.

“What was it like being raised by a hell priest?” Crüe asked, trying to keep up a similar conversation as to what he kept up with Devo.

Haine just shrugged again and looked down to play with his clawed hands. He simultaneously wanted the nearly century of parental affection he had been robbed of to be poured over him and to run away and never speak to Crüe or anyone from his early life. Also at this point he was too frazzled to even decide what he wanted. All he could manage to think about was trying to find somewhere safe to rest and try and sort through his thoughts.

Haine was mostly trying to ignore the fact that if he was in Crüe’s shoes, he would have killed everyone who had tried to imprison him. He was anxious that the demon was being so nice and so calm.

Devo swooped in and asked a question before Haine could shut down entirely, “So were you always in the blood swamps, or did you move around more?”

“I went everywhere I could. I like the blood swamps the best, no one bothers me, and there were plenty of pinkies and Imps to eat. It was dangerous not having a permanent home.”

The cutting weight of that last sentence made Devo’s eye twitch. He wanted to scoff and turn to his nephew and tell him, “Don’t try to play with Crüe’s emotions.” But of course he didn’t say that, the only thing he mustered up was a glare towards Haine.

Haine bounced his leg and looked around avoiding both their stares. Yet, as much as he wanted to be difficult, he gave Crüe a tidbit of conversation. “Crüe when you were out for a few days me and Devo watched your old fights from Immora.”

That surprised Crüe and he was actually excited by that, “Oh really! I had a few good ones. It wasn’t the same as fighting in a battalion though. That was true fun.”

Now back on the warm and fuzzy memories side of things, he immediately became much happier. Devo nodded gleefully and reached out squeezing Haine’s shoulder, “What was your favorite one?”

“They were all ok.” Haine reached up and squeezed his wrist back, receding back into his metaphorical shell.

“Yeah.” Crüe nodded, looking between Devo and Haine.

Devo nodded back at Crüe and Haine shrugged again.

The conversation slowly tapered out until they were all sitting in silence occasionally nodding their heads like a bobble head.

Crüe knew he should be filling that silence with more questions, but he used it to think. Haine was maybe his son, maybe related in some other way. The kid, well mid twenties wasn’t exactly a kid, Crüe was just getting old, was standoffish and still had ties to hell which didn’t make it ideal to have him sneaking around. Crüe finally broke the silence, “There’s two extra beds in me and the Slayer’s room. You need somewhere to stay since Grim’s hunting all of us.”

Haine stared down at his clawed hands, and felt like an idiot. His whole world had been twisted on its head and now he didn’t know what he was going to do. He looked over to his his uncle nodding with a grin on his face and felt sick.

“He wouldn’t be mad?” Devo gave him a concerned and terrified look. “The Slayer isn’t a force to be reckoned with. It was a freak stroke of luck that we were able to take him down and it was Bell who did it.”

Crüe laughed remembering when he was terrified about the Slayer as well, “When he’s not fighting he’s like a puppy. He wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

Haine and Devo gave each other a doubtful look. Finally, despite both of them acting erratic and panicked they agreed on something.

“Oh,” Crüe gently patted the table, “do you have any of my armor or anything of the Slayer’s?”

Devo stood up and away from the table, looking through his axe's own tool belt. Through his little dimensional pocket, very similar to what the Slayer had. He pulled out both Crüe’s and the Slayer’s tool belts. “That’s everything. We couldn’t get your armor or his.”

He threw his and the Slayer’s tool belt over his shoulder, “No, this is the most important stuff.” Crüe looked at them both and finally spoke up, “I’ll take you two to my room. You can stay as long as you need.”

Chapter 99: A Little Speck

While Crüe questioned his brother and son, the Slayer, from his head to toes couldn’t move, and was locked into some metal sort of contraption. Cold metal was pressing hard against his shoulders and back. He was very much conscious, but whatever medicine was entering his body from a plethora of IVs made the pain faint and dull. He had a plastic oxygen mask over his face and nose. His first instinct was to use his big, awkward hands and pull it off his face, but he decided it was probably there for a good reason.

His face scrunched up in agony when he felt pain in his stomach and chest. He was fairly certain he could feel a scalpel cutting away at the fabric, taking chunks of meat with it. His neck was also hurt like a bitch. He felt scraping and cutting happening there as well, it wasn’t nearly as bad. Someone was gluing his face back up and he watched their blurry hands work.

It took him a significant amount of time to realize he was laying on his back. Gravity seemed so hard to differentiate when all he could feel was metal and all he could see was hands. Before he could ponder his situation any more, he felt a scalpel slice a chunk of flesh off his torso like he was being carved for thanksgiving dinner. He roared out in pain, thrashing around the best he could. That earned him a great deal more pain medication and he drifted off to sleep.

The swarm of medical personnel around him were shocked by his wounds. The burns on his stomach didn’t go didn’t go as deep as his neck, but once the few chunks of clothing had been cut out of his wounds it looked horrific. Charred fat surrounded roasted muscles with a few parts of his front dotted with deep cuts that had been made to cut out the fabric that was fused to his skin. There were still huge chunks of fabric from his under suit welded to his flesh. Any semblance of a normal human being would have been dead hours ago, yet the Slayer’s body persevered drawing on strength the man wished he didn't have.

For an excruciating thirty minutes they hacked away at his front, attempting to give him new skin grafts which promptly were rejected by the healing of his body. The Slayer faded in and out of consciousness and saw the familiar face of the laryngologist who had returned his voice. Now he wasn’t quite so sure that it had only been thirty minutes.

Someone was touching his neck. It felt weird, almost ticklish. He started coughing and couldn’t stop. His whole chest was seizing and every cough drug up fluid. He felt like he was drowning and broke his hand free, peeling the oxygen mask on his face, just in time. He spat the fluid out and covered the laryngologist’s face with blood. His vision blurred and he passed out.

He woke up laying down in a hospital bed. His neck was at an uncomfortable, stiff angle yet he felt no pain. Not to mention his neck was bandaged beyond belief with drainage tubes leading away from it. Both his arms were dotted with IVs and his face was stitched up and covered with bandages as well. He blinked his swollen eyes a few times, barely able to even see out of them as he cataloged his injuries mentally before he realized Crüe was right in front of him, talking.

“-and they were able to take some of the drainage tubes out already.” He reached down and squeezed the man’s hand, giving him a loving look. “Your voice will be back soon, like I said you just need to rest it.” The demon seemed so concerned and he fussed about with the man’s blanket, pulling it up on his chest a bit more, hiding the bloody gauze from sight. The Slayer didn’t know it but he had been in and out of consciousness for a few hours. Crüe was still answering the confused look he had on his face from ten minutes ago. When Crüe finally realized he was back and leaned down, and smiled, “Slayer, you’re back again! Please stay up.” Crüe’s voice sounded a bit desperate, “If you need anything I can go get it for you.”

Hearing Crüe wanted him to stay up kicked his body into gear. He took a deep shaky breath and grabbed his hand back. He spoke out despite the warning, and his voice was a mangled, garbled mess, “C-C-rü-Crü-”

The demon leaned over and shushed him, shaking his head, “No talking, none! Let me do the talking.” Crüe just looked like he had been run ragged, his eyes had dark circles under them and his hands constantly fidgeted. A few tears were welling up in the demon's eyes and he struggled to keep himself composed entirely. He went through an entire speech. The Slayer was injured but he was healing fast. His voice was hurt and needed to not be used or else it might not recover correctly. He listed off all the medications the man was on and what procedures had been done. “Nothing went like it was planned. I don’t know how much you remember, but…” Crüe just closed his eyes and leaned forwards, laying his horned head down on the Slayer’s bed.

The Slayer had a million questions he wanted to ask the demon. He was scared and struggling to put together his fractured memories. Everything after that baron smashed his face and dragged him to hell was blurry and barely coherent. He reached out, straining his chest and neck, and grabbed his hand.

Crüe looked up and rubbed his eyes, wiping away some tears. “I’m sorry, Slayer. I’m just so tired.” He watched as the Slayer made a motion of writing in a notebook, and he lept up, rushing over to a drawer. The thought of the man responding to him actually gave him hope. He practically shoved it into the man’s hands and looked over his shoulder, his heart racing wildly. He couldn’t control his tears when the man wrote out:

‘I love u. Are u O.K.?’

“Slayer. I’m fine I was worried about you. You’re the one that got hurt.” He paused, taking a deep breath, he realized he missed the most important part of the note, “I love you too.”

The Slayer’s lips quivered up into a little smile despite his face looking like he was a punching bag for half of hell. He was worried about Samuel, Daisy, Haru, and Crüe's well-being. ‘Samuel?’

Crüe took the note and gave him a little glance. He didn’t want to aggravate the Slayer or make him upset, but he couldn’t lie to him. “They officially declared him brain dead about an hour ago. They took all his brains and stuff out of his chassis and put him in some sort of super life support machine that does everything. I don’t understand it.” There was a long painful pause. The Slayer didn’t really react to that information until Crüe finally spoke up, “Elena said she wants to keep trying.”

The Slayer’s heart twisted in pain. If he had been smarter he would have known the seraphim was trying to get into the wrong system. Now everyone had to suffer for him being stupid. ‘Elena?’

“She’s strong, you know.” Crüe looked over at the small window in the room and sighed, feeling oddly detached from everything besides his hand that rested on the Slayer’s bedside. “Also, uh…”

The man watched as Crüe, the usually joyful goofy idiot, stared off into the distance like a battered soldier. He felt a deep seated fear well up inside him, like he was just a scared little kid hiding under the covers of his bed. He worried about Daisy praying to everything he had that the little gargoyle was still alive.

His eyes snapped over to him and he locked onto the Slayer, “Haru died. Grim…” he made the motion on a hand crushing something and left it at that. He saw the Slayer start writing something and shook his head, tears started welling up and his lips quivered, “No, it’s not like he ran out of energy. He’s gone completely. I can’t even feel him. His heartbeat should be right next to mine.” He tapped his chest and let out a horrific sob of pain, doubling over on himself.

The Slayer strained his body but he reached out, grabbing one of Crüe’s tall horns and yanked him in. The demon was practically kneeling on the bed and he gently hugged the Slayer the best he could. He stroked the man’s head and back listening to his cries and low murmuring wails of grief. The only emotion he could muster up was guilt and a bit of sadness as if he could even add anymore of that to his conscience. He didn’t even know Haru could die, and he was too weak to even remember what had happened. He struggled to write something while he comforted Crüe, but he managed and placed it in his hand.

Crüe didn’t read it yet he pulled back, his sobs slowing down for a moment. He crawled off the bed and sat down back in the grubby awful hospital chair and caught his breath. He debated telling the Slayer right then and there about their two new guests but he felt tears well up in his eyes at the mere thought of telling him. Not yet, soon he would tell him, but not yet. “I’m sorry. You’re the one that’s hurt. I was so scared that they were going to kill you. Slayer they had you strung up and-“

The man pointed at the note the demon was holding. He watched as he took it and read it.

‘Go home, rest.’

Crüe seemed almost a bit offended, “Slayer you just woke up, and they told me-” The Slayer started writing and Crüe stopped speaking and sat watching him write out his thoughts.

‘I’ll be here when you wake up. You look like death.’

“I can’t just leave you all alone. I want to stay here and sit with you. You're on bed rest. If you need something, anything I’ll go get it for you.” He spoke out watching as the Slayer immediately responded.

‘Anything?’

If the marauder didn’t feel like a three day old chunk of roadkill with depression he would have laughed. As if that was even a question. “I’ll do anything at all to make you comfortable. Do you need a pillow?”

‘I need you to be ok.’ Then he went back up and circled, ‘Go home, rest.’

Crüe closed his eyes and decided to take the advice of the Slayer, “I’ll be back first thing tomorrow. If you need anything-“

The Slayer gave him a sad smile and a weak wave, ‘I’m so sorry about Haru.’

The demon just took that note and nodded, unable to respond. He stood and left of course a thousand “be safe” and “if you need anything” and “I love you.” He kept saying them because he didn’t even know what else he could say. He went home, his mind a slushy mess of emotions. He was able to keep it together around the other marauders, but when he saw the Slayer, how badly he had been injured. The reality of everything sort of hit him and he was suffocating in grief. When things like this happened in hell he would try and focus on the good parts. For example Daisy was still alive, her children still had a mother. His mind kept circling back to Haru again and again. He opened the door and saw the other marauders sitting across from each other on the couches talking.

“Is the Slayer doing better? You’ve been gone ever since you brought us here.” Devo asked curiously and he also tried to be as polite as demonically possible. That was rather impressive for him because Crüe had left them alone for almost eight hours and now it was rather late at night. He stood and took a step towards Crüe but the demon shied away.

He walked behind the couch and opened a cupboard, pulling out a half filled bottle of wine. He didn’t say anything or grab a glass. He simply walked into his room and locked the door.

Haine leaned over and whispered to Devo, “Did he die?”

Daisy hopped up on the couch beside Haine, making them both jump. She had the same look of pain deep in her eyes. “He’s still alive. I would get a call if he went blah.” She emphasized the last word by tilting her head and sticking her tongue out.

“Does he always drink when he’s sad?” Devo was almost disturbed by that. In fact, he wasn’t “almost” he was very disturbed by that. He was also annoyed that the alcohol took priority over him. They both had an alcoholic father and he didn’t want the sole reason the Slayer wouldn’t kill him drunk off his ass. He stood, went open to the liquor cupboard and pulled every bottle up onto the counter. Then opened them and drained everyone into the sink. He even drained the little tiny sample ones you get from liquor stores.

Daisy was now very interested by this but she did mourn the delicious alcohol.

Haine stood up and rushed over, “Devo, what are you doing?!” He grabbed his uncle’s arm, but the marauder pulled away.

“I’ve always hated liquor.” He gave a murderous look to Crüe’s bedroom door and pushed Haine aside so he could slam his fist against the door, “Crüe! Get your ass out here!”

Crüe peeked his head out of the door and his face twisted in annoyance as he looked at Devo. “Let me rest-“

The marauder snatched the bottle out of his hand and slammed it face first into the sink; the remaining wine went down the drain in an instant. He grabbed Crüe by his hand and yanked him out of the bedroom. “You’re not sitting in there drinking like a deadbeat, like our fucking dad!”

Crüe resisted, fire in his eyes, he snapped his fanged teeth at Devo royally pissed that he dared to tell him what to do in his own house. He should have been smarter, I mean hell he should have known Devo was stressed and afraid, but he yelled out. “I’M NOT MY FATHER!” He socked Devo in the jaw as hard as he could. He only had maybe a mouthful of wine yet the grief and pain clouded his mind more than any liquor.

His brother somehow wasn’t knocked out. He fell on his ass, clutching his face, and glaring at Crüe. He seemed to give in, out of fear of pain Crüe wasn’t sure. “Bastard!” He rolled on his side protecting his head from any more blows.

Haine was standing by the sink, completely fucking petrified. He had a haunted look on his face like he had just seen a ghost. In reality he was worried he had just seen what his father was truly like and who he would be living with for the foreseeable future. He felt like he should have just stayed in the blood swamps.

Crüe had turned his attention away from Devo and realized what he had done to Haine. The pieces connected in his head, slowly at first then like a horrific flashback it crashed over his mind. Maybe he was like his father, except he was worse because he would actually swing a punch. He went to apologize to Haine and realized that would be rude to Devo so he stopped and stood with a gaping open mouth.

Even Daisy was frozen on the couch. The children safely tucked under her ready to escape out the door if needed if the marauders decided to fight out their feelings.

Crüe finally spoke, his voice breaking, “I didn’t mean to-“ Haine tried to run and Crüe grabbed him, trying to plead with him. “Please! I-“

Haine leapt back and burst into tears, he cried out like a child. He was actually shaking like a leaf and his eyes were wide, fearful of what was going to be done to him.

He was so fucking terrified, so scared that Crüe was going to hurt him. He has every right to, hell even Daisy had a right to rip him to shreds.

The demon stumbled back, letting him free. He stopped trying to explain and just got out of the apartment as fast as he could. His still armored legs carried him through the carrier and up into Elena’s room. He opened the door and rushed inside, before he could close it Daisy and her kids rushed in behind him.

Elena was laid out on the floor by huge floor to ceiling windows the looked over the beautiful ocean, there were two packs of cigarettes emptied out beside her and she was finishing the last one off. She didn’t even look at Crüe, “Alcohol is right on the counter, there’s weed in the-“

He was already across the room and chugging something down. He promised himself this would be the only night in his life where he did this. He needed one small escape from the pain then tomorrow he would go back to the Slayer’s bedside and wait for his better half to be healthy. It burnt like Grim’s fire going down his throat. When he finally stopped he held his head over the sink, letting a few drops of whatever liquor he had drank drip off his fangs and long tongue into the sink. He looked over to see Daisy's two small children staring up at him while she was over by Elena. He knelt down beside them reaching out a tender claw, “Go find somewhere to rest. You’re both tired.”

They scurried off and Crüe felt relief they wouldn’t see him drunk and crying. He walked back over to Elena and Daisy, sitting down on the floor. He grabbed a pack of cigarettes off the floor and found one last one clinging to the corner of the carton, he borrowed the lighter and frantically lit it up, breathing in deeply before finally exhaling. “I feel like shit.”

Elena just cracked a small smile, “Same. I would comfort you but I don’t think I’m capable of that at the moment.”

“We could probably sit here all night and try to one up each other about our shitty luck.” Crüe decided his back was going to be fucked if he sat on the floor much longer so he got up and rested in one of the chairs.

“The Slayer sounds like he’ll be pulling through.” Elena said as she finished her cigarette down to the filter and now was scrounging for another pack.

“The only blessing I have at the moment.” Crüe looked out the window at the sea and remembered diving into its depths. That could have been the last time he ever saw the Slayer… hell that might have been the last time he’d ever hear his voice. He tried to think back to the last words that were said to him, but they were just out of reach.

“Him being alive is a blessing for everyone.” She rubbed her head when her search for a cigarette was unsuccessful, but grinned when Daisy found a half pack wedged in the couch. “These few days have been the worst days of my life. Even worse than this.” She touched her face.

“At least you don’t have a crazy sibling and a child you didn’t even know you had living with you.” Crüe laughed at his own misfortune. He felt bad for poor Haine having a father like him. He wasn’t sure how he’d ever repair any of the damage he’d had done in the past day. “You have a peaceful, quiet apartment to go back to.”

Elena shook her head, “Trying to one up me?” When she saw how Crüe’s face seemed a bit embarrassed she laughed, “No, no, I like it. I need something to distract me.” She lit up another cigarette. “They only took Samuel’s brain on life support. They dropped off his chassis in the spare bedroom.” She pointed toward an ominous open door. “Do you have your lover’s corpse just sitting in your apartment? I won that one.”

Crüe felt like he was going to vomit, “Actually I do.” His stomach clenched up and he gagged but kept himself composed. In a very small voice he just croaked out, “The cat.” Then he rushed over to the sink and puked like a drunk frat boy.

Elena made no movement of getting up to help him, in fact she didn’t even flinch. Daisy ran over for some comfort for the demon. Once he was done and returned to their pity party Elena nodded, “Ok you win that one.”

Crüe rubbed his head now struggling to keep up with Elena’s detached painful humor. “What would you do if a son you never even knew you had just showed up?”

“I mean… I think I’d probably remember having a child.” She laughed and motioned to her belly then continued, “I’m the worst person to ask about this Crüe.”

“Please. Any advice? Any ideas?” He was desperate with her at this point. He wanted the magic words to make this kid realize he wasn’t a massive asshole, but he realized that maybe he was. His father still haunted him after all these years despite his transformation and despite his amnesia.

“I was surprised that one time when you both didn’t want any kids. You seem like you’d both be good parents. You’re more relaxed while the Slayer is more strict. I’ll admit I was listening in on your conversation with your brother and son. If your dad was an alcoholic jerk doesn’t mean you will be too.” She shrugged and blew out a perfect smoke ring, watching it dissipate in the air. She could sense there was something else based on how frantic Crüe was for an answer. “What happened tonight?”

Crüe paused and took a trembling breath. He explained the situation and the fact that he punched his brother and grabbed his son. “When I realized he was scared it was like I was looking at myself in a mirror all those years ago. I’m a piece of shit.”

“Agreed. You shouldn’t have slapped them around. That’s not like you at all.” She stated the obvious but wanted to pound that into Crüe’s head. “Be honest with them. You should be walking on eggshells around that kid. He’s skittish and angry, a bad combination.” Her phone beeped and she looked down at it tapping a few times before groaning.

“What?”

“I swabbed them both for DNA when you were sitting with the Slayer.” She got up and showed him the email, “You are in fact the father. The other one is undoubtedly your brother.” She returned to her place by the window.

Crüe and her sat in silence, feeling awful. The clock marched on soon; it was 3 am and Crüe was just sitting on the couch, half asleep, holding a cigarette that needed to be tapped free of the ash hanging off of it. Daisy was asleep on the couch, her children had returned from their adventures and were cuddled up beside her. Elena was still on the floor, looking out the window at the endless waves. They had rerouted from the Atlantica facility to a few small nameless islands and the carrier was slowly making its way there.

Her mind drifted off to thoughts of Samuel. She had loved him more than any other relationship. He was her everything. The thought of never seeing him again hurt her very soul.

The peace of the night was broken by a cell phone ringing from the spare bedroom.

Daisy, Crüe, Elena were up and on their feet she grabbed a knife off the kitchen counter and rushed over to the bedroom, flicking the light switch on. Samuel’s body was laying on the bed, his legs sticking out over the side. His optic was broken and he truly looked like a hollow shell.

Crüe held up his arm and heard the ringing come from inside, “Daisy pry that open.” She leapt up and using her jaws snapped open his forearm.

Elena dropped the knife, reached down, and pulled out a cellphone, answering it. “Hello this is Elena Richardson with the ARC-“ her face twisted into shock and her eyes darted up to Crüe. “It’s Vega.”

Vega was alive, a tumor trapped inside the mind of a god. He was scared for his own sake, but even more for his friends. He spoke softly on the line, not wanting to wake the slumbering giant he was attached too, “Is Samuel ok?”

Elena’s voice quivered a bit, and she broke the news to the god, “No, he’s dead.”

Vega was silent for a moment, “The Slayer?”

“Injured,” Elena looked over at Crüe, “But he’s still alive. He was hurt by-”

“I know, Grim, God told me. He needs to go to Ingmore’s Sanctum; the Seraphim will guide the Slayer there. From there… he’ll know what to do.” Vega shut off the phone and he stared off into the void. He couldn’t smile at the Slayer’s life or let out a scream of anguish at Samuel’s death as he was just a little speck, but he felt those feelings run through him.

Chapter 100: Wise Words From a Gargoyle

The Slayer woke up still in a great deal of pain. He was sitting in his hospital room all alone and that made him happy. Crüe had left and probably gotten a full night's sleep. After a bit, he was brought breakfast and chowed down on some of the most disgusting food he had ever eaten, but it was food so he couldn’t complain. His throat was still raw he couldn’t thank the person that came in to retrieve his tray, he just gave them a little nod and a wave.

The more the day dragged on he began to worry. He wasn’t needy and he understood that Crüe was really going through it right now, but when he turned and saw it was almost noon he felt worried.

The man reached up, gently touching his throat. He could feel the tender, raw flesh through the bandages, and the chunks of charred skin that had been removed, leaving little divots. He could barely remember how he received the burns he now bore on his flesh, except for the descriptions that Crüe provided.

He sat up, feeling the ache of painful flesh on his chest and belly. He grabbed his IVs and all the tubes in his body, undoing them quickly. It felt like the minute he was unconscious the humans were shoving everything into his body like he was a pincushion. There was still a drainage tube filled with red fluid hanging from his neck, but he wasn’t physically attached to any machines anymore.

A nurse stepped in probably because of all the beeping happening around him. “Are you leaving?”

He nodded and they ran off to go get someone. He took a step out of bed, his legs were tired and a bit shaky, and shuffled over to a little bathroom. His hospital gown was already undone and he pulled it over his shoulders a bit more, examining his stomach in the mirror. He was covered in bandages. The huge open wounds were healing and no longer oozing. On his face his bruises were looking more and more yellowish. He tied his gown and undid the gauze on his neck.

The gauze was tinged red inside, but luckily his neck wasn’t actively bleeding. It was bad and he was going to be scared horrifically from this. There were big ugly stitches on certain parts of his neck and a drainage tube above one of the worst looking ones. He wondered if he had his neck cut open. His face was just bruised and covered in half healed cuts, not bad. He supposed that being so pumped up on adrenaline once he got back had been terrifying as he remembered the doctors cutting strips of fat off his front, but at least it was making his healing much more speedy.

He stepped out as the nurse walked back in the room, “They said you have to stay for another two hours for monitoring.” They glanced over at the man who was standing up, completely unhooked. He didn’t have to say a word, not that he even could have, “Ok,” The nurse turned around, “I’ll tell them you're going now.”

He got dressed, got the drainage tube taken out, was rebandaged on his front and neck, and had a few stitches removed. While all of that was happening he wrote a few questions about Crüe. No one in the hospital had seen him since yesterday. He refused a wheelchair and was power hobbling down the hallways in shorts and a loose t-shirt that covered his bloody bandages towards their room. He had never been so happy to see their assigned apartment’s door before. He went to open it but stopped as he heard two unknown voices and Crüe talking. He listened in carefully.

Haine and Devo were sitting on one side of the couch while Crüe was one the other. They all sounded defeated and tired and awful. “I don’t know how to be a good brother or a good father. I know I messed up bad last night. I’m sorry.”

The Slayer’s heart fell… brother, and father? That was a title he thought he’d never hear attached to Crüe’s name. It dawned on him that he was talking to the other marauders. He had almost forgotten about that entire fight as his main memory was the bottom of that baron’s foot, but now he remembered the betrayal and agony he had been put through by a red marauder and an imposter.

Devo had been punched a million times and besides a bit of bruising on his face, he was fine physically. Mentally, he was shaken up quite a bit. “I shouldn’t have gotten in your face like that, but you shouldn’t have been drinking that’s enough of that for you Crüe.”

Haine had been petrified and he was still petrified. He wanted to go home and get away from the insanity that was the human world. Despite being a full blown adult who lived on his own for his whole life, having the illusion that his father would be this perfect wonderful man was shattered into a thousand pieces. When Crüe ran off he cried for an hour Devo had to comfort him while he iced his face.

Crüe could just see the fear in Haine from the way he sat and the look in his eyes. He sighed, letting out a shaky breath, “Haine I’m sorry to you too.”

The demon just shook his head. He had thought a lot last night and he decided to pour his ideas out to Crüe. He wasn’t opening his heart up, but he was opening his mind up at the very least, “You don’t even know if I’m your son. I’m coming in here sleeping in your apartment. We are the reason your friends are hurt or dead. I’d be angry too.”

“I know better than to be angry.” Crüe nodded his head, “Also results came back last night you’re both who you say you are.” He looked up to face Haine, “You are my son, and I don’t want either of you to feel like you are a burden living here… you’re family.”

The Slayer felt his stomach twist with unease. What the hell was happening? He wanted to barge in and scream at everything, especially Crüe. Why didn’t he tell him about any of this? He was enraged but couldn’t speak a word, such a horrific combination.

Haine didn’t respond; he seemed shocked that he was actually Crüe’s son. He was frozen and luckily his father seemed to spare him and started talking with Devo.

Devo was thrilled to be confirmed genetically as Crüe’s brother. “I mean we had both had the same memories so I thought it had to be true. Does that mean I get to punch you back?!” He beamed with excitement.

Crüe stood up and nodded, tapping his chin, “It’s only fair.”

“Is that a family tradition?” Haine asked, concerned and worried.

Devo explained for Haine, “Since there were so many of us it’s not like you could just discipline a roving gang of seven children. So we would discipline ourselves with “eye for an eye” type shit.” He wound his fist back and punched Crüe in the jaw.

The Slayer slowly turned the handle and opened the door, wanting to make sure Crüe wasn’t too hurt.

The demon winced and stumbled back but he didn’t fall to the floor, “You hit like a gargoyle!”

Daisy let out an indignant screech from under the kitchen table along with her two children. “FUCK U!”

Now that Devo and Crüe had matching bruises they went to sit back down on the couch but saw the Slayer standing in the doorway.

Seeing three marauders at once all getting along was certainly a shock. It also immediately made him feel dizzy. He must have been swaying a bit because Crüe ran over to him.

Haine was frozen like a baby fawn, Devo was shrinking down trying to look less menacing. “Slayer!” Crüe gave him a gentle touch on the arm and shut the door behind him, “This is Haine and Devo. I didn’t mean to surprise you with them like this.”

He nodded wishing he still had his voice. To the marauders it seemed there was an unreadable expression on his face. Crüe saw it for what it was, a nervous, confused smile.

“They are good now-“ Crüe cut himself off, “In short, hell and Grim kicked them out because they helped us escape. I can explain everything though.”

The Slayer had put all his trust in Crüe a long time ago. Besides if these marauders hadn’t murdered him yet, they sure as hell wouldn’t do it now that he was here. He just nodded again and pointed towards his bedroom. He gratefully accepted the help Crüe gave him to the bed while the others remained frozen. As the demon helped him lay down he reached out, a note in hand, ‘Heard through the door. Son? Brother?’

“Thank you for not freaking out then.” Crüe leaned down and kissed him. He felt like he would have been sick if the Slayer revealed he had a biological son. “I didn’t know my son existed and I didn’t think my brother was even still alive.”

The Slayer glanced over writing and handed him another note, ‘I am freaking out, but I trust you. Should have told me’ He gave him an angry look as Daisy and her kiddies hopped up on the bed, greeting him happily. ‘Be careful, please.’ His eyelids were heavy and he seemed to be already fluttering out of consciousness. The notes he held slowly fell out of his hands. He faded to sleep, a deep anger and confusion inside him.

“I’m sorry.” Crüe squeezed his hand and left him with Daisy to sit beside him. He walked back out and faced his family, “See, like a puppy dog.”

They both seemed less convinced, Devo was more upfront about his fears, “Does he just walk around glaring at everything like that?”

Crüe shook his head, “No, no, he just needs some time to get his voice back. He’s a bit crabby now, but it will get better.” He took a breath and felt like a tour guide trying to convince them to not freak out. “I can show you how to behave in the human world if you would like. They are very particular with their traditions.”

He was only able to get into a brief discussion of how their meals went before Elena rushed into the room, “Hey Crüe since the Slayer is down you need to take his place in meetings. We are having one now regarding…” She glanced over at the other marauders and gave them both a little look, “information specific to ARC personnel.”

He waved his goodbyes to his family and left them alone for the rest of the night, promising they would get time together. He even left his phone with them so they could watch some videos. Daisy was left to watch over them and did so while her children frolicked around the room. She trusted the Slayer would be able to get her if he needed anything.

“It not bad living with Slayer.” She sat with Haine and Devo who had migrated to the kitchen table. “Treated very well. Crüe is also good too.”

Devo was once again back to his constantly mildly rageful yet idiotic self and was scrolling the internet. He set the phone down and sighed, “I feel guilty about the Slayer. We are the reason he’s so injured. Hell, we might as well have killed Crüe’s wolf.”

Daisy disagreed with them, “You planned killing him, but when Crüe might get hurt too, you called off. Crüe tried attack Slayer in old times too so did I.” She was trying to let them know that it happened and everyone had lunged for the Slayer’s throat only to be placated by the man’s demeanor. She glanced over at Haine.

The son seemed like he was in a constant state of depression and paranoia. He was jumping his leg up and down under the table but his face looked lifeless.

“Why you so afraid? You act like prey.” Daisy chirped, making him look up.

Haine was quiet for a second, his leg stopped bouncing. “I thought my father would miss me, I guess. I thought we’d have time to talk about everything, and I certainly didn’t expect him to be actually working with the Slayer.” He laid his hands upright on the table motioning towards the chaotic human world.

Daisy was glad she was getting some information out of them, “Just rest then talk chatter with them, yeah?”

Haine nodded a bit confused by her way of speaking. He did however feel much more open talking with this gargoyle. Sure she was menacing, but she didn’t strike the same fear into him as Crüe or the Slayer, “Yeah, thanks. Those your kids?” He motioned to the two little gargoyles they seemed to be perpetually in the background playing with a piece of lint or a sock.

“Yup. Very good kids. Very smart. I don’t give attention they need sometimes. It why they so so rowdy.” She clicked and chirred some completely unknown speech that her translator couldn’t pick up on and they quieted down running over to her. “They were very skittish of me when they were new,” she paused, not knowing the proper word that would translate correctly, “squabs… but they warmed up.” Daisy shrugged her arms and turned to Devo, “You seem to fare better with these changes.” Her children tried to bite at her wings and she growled at them.

“Well this is temporary. As soon as Bell wants us back we can head back. Crüe hasn’t been too horrific. He’s busy, I get it.” Devo leaned back in his chair watching a gargoyle baby dash under the table. “I think-“

He was interrupted by three knocks echoing around the apartment. Then the phone Crüe gave him buzzed. It was a text from the Slayer, ‘Water, please?’

Daisy nodded at Devo then motioned to Haine, “We are talking get him water.”

The marauder stood slowly, Haine walked over to the cupboard, grabbed a glass, and filled it from the sink which was still full of empty liquor bottles. He looked over at Daisy for guidance but she was already preoccupied with continuing her conversation with Devo. He slowly stepped into the Slayer’s lair, his skin getting goosebumps. He decided to announce himself so the man wouldn’t attack out of instinct, “It’s Haine.”

He watched as the weak body laying on the bed slowly sat up, and cleared its throat. He gave Haine a death stare before he saw the glass of water and motioned for him to come in. The Slayer slowly dragged his legs over to have them hang off the bed, and was hunched over. He let out a weak cough and wiped at his mouth as he stretched out his other hand.

Haine stepped forwards, his hands trembling enough to ripple the surface of the water, and handed him the glass. He watched as the man motioned to a bottle of pills on the nightstand and he retrieved them. When he went to hand it to the Slayer he shook his head and held up two fingers, “Oh yeah I could get them out for you. Uh… here.” It took him a few moments of glaring in the dark to figure out the stupid pill bottle, but he eventually did and handed the man two pink pills. This then proceeded for about five other types of medicines. Sometimes he had to read the bottle to find what dose he was even giving the man. It was nerve wracking.

The man took his notepad and wrote some demands for the demon. ‘Get Daisy here. Turn light on too.’ He felt like he was on his deathbed the way he heard them whispering outside his room.

He quickly filled the list of demands and in a few moments they had dragged chairs in and were all talking. The Slayer was annoyed that the two other marauders had invited themselves in when he had only asked for Daisy, but he didn’t snap at them quite yet. The lights were on but a bit dim, the glow of the lamps around the room along with the pale gray light coming off the sea was actually nice. The Slayer was still sitting up, occasionally stretching his abdomen and neck to help the burns heal and still be flexible. The process hurt like a bitch though. His face was either screwed up in pain or rage at the demons sitting in the room with him.

They gave him a lot of information about hell while he nodded occasionally. Daisy filled in most of the conversation for him which was fantastic because he was in no mood to even write a note. Haine started to get a headache but everyone’s spirits were up for once.

Eventually far later that night Crüe returned home. Haine and Devo were already asleep in their own room and he crawled into bed alongside the Slayer and Daisy, “How was today?”

The Slayer nodded and carefully rolled over to face his lover. He gently touched his face, savoring that smile he worried he’d never see again. Despite the horrific pain they had been through their wounds were beginning to heal. His face revealed how he was feeling, he was ever so slightly angry. He went to roll over to grab his notebook and yell at Crüe for withholding information from him, but he was stopped.

Crüe’s eyes glanced over him and he seemed nervous, “Vega is alive.”

Chapter 101: A Pancake Peace Offering

“Sleeping it off” can help a lot of things, but as the Slayer sat up in bed, rubbing at his bruised eyes, he decided it didn’t fix Vega, oh lord… trying to cry when your throat feels like it’s being shredded at the slightest noise was horrific. The Slayer managed through. He was just so happy his dear friend was still alive. He vowed silently to himself that he would do anything to save him.

A few moments later as he recovered from thinking of Vega, scared and alone as he was trapped inside God, he also decided “sleeping it off” didn’t help full thickness burns or finding out your significant other had a child that they never knew about and a brother who they thought was dead who were now living with you. Well actually, he took out his phone which was conveniently placed on his night stand and looked at himself through the camera, taking the gauze off momentarily. His throat was red and raw, but it was covered in scabbed up flesh. He looked down at his belly and it was a similar story. Well, at least the burns were improving.

When they were talking about hell last night they two also gave him a retelling of events that led to him being burned to a crisp by Grim. They were factual with every detail and helped to catch him up to speed. They were scared. The Slayer could almost smell it on them. It reminded him a lot of Crüe, and not just because they were marauders. They were both hurt and scared and completely lost on what they should be doing. Their remaining ties to hell certainly set them apart though. Objectively speaking they would be fine to have room with them for a little bit as long as they kept no contact with hell.

Subjectively though? His heart ached at the new fact that Crüe had a child. A brother he didn’t care about, in fact, he was happy for the demon. Yet this kid’s existence made his head hurt. They had told the man all about how Crüe punched Devo and lost his shit. It made him feel scared about what Crüe was going through and he hadn’t had a damn moment to actually speak with the demon.

Yesterday Crüe had been in meetings all about the next mission. The Seraphim was stabilized pretty well so at least the Slayer had time to heal.

Had the Slayer missed anything? Oh, the cat. Crüe had Haru’s body put in cold storage so he could be buried when they got to their destination on some little islands.

Not to mention his voice was still fucked he wasn’t even attempting to speak. He looked over his shoulder and saw Crüe still sleeping. He elected to just nudge the demon with his hands until he opened his eyes.

Crüe sat up with a gasp and reached over, grabbing a glass of water off the nightstand and drinking it down. He looked back and scooted closer to the Slayer, helping the man to lean his head against his shoulder, “I know that was a lot yesterday. I have a few meetings today. Will you be ok here? I can cancel them like how you did.”

As tempting as that was, he couldn't do that to the humans. He gave a thumbs up and held Crüe’s hand with all his might. He coughed and shook his head, rubbing his aching throat.

Crüe kissed his injured face, “We’ll sort everything out soon enough. I can get them situated so everyone is comfortable. Maybe their own apartment or something like that. I know space is tight but if anything could be considered extenuating circumstances this is it.” The Slayer butted against him and he looked over, confused. “What?”

He thought for a moment, his pen hovered above a note pad before writing out, ‘Son?’ He watched as Crüe reacted.

The demon nodded and looked down, playing with his hands, “Are you asking how I feel about… having a son?” He watched the Slayer give him a thumbs up and he gave him a sad look. “I mean I feel dumb that I didn’t even think about the possibility of having a kid when I was a sentinel. I was young, hell probably his age. I left him and some poor lady. I feel like my dad. That’s all I can think about recently is the fact that I feel just like him.” He got up off the bed, and slowly began changing out of his pajamas. He didn’t want the day to begin. He too would be quite content to sit with the Slayer all day long. “They told you everything that happened so you know why he doesn’t really think I’m the dad of the year.”

The Slayer managed to get over to the foot of the bed closest to Crüe and reach out for him, offering support. He didn’t have much to even muster a response to that.

“I trust that you’ll stop me if I’m doing something stupid, or neglecting him, or hurting him.” Crüe, now clothed and ready to meet the day, whirled around and hugged the Slayer. “I mean even today I should be with them! I need to catch up with my brother and I need to make sure Haine knows I’m not a deadbeat asshole!” He was whisper ranting to the Slayer who was nodding along. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. I’ll tell you everything. Just stay in here and rest. I love you.” He hurried out and into the chaos of the ARC carrier, leaving the Slayer bored and alone.

“Idle hands are the devil's workshop.”

Yet another quote that popped into the Slayers head. He must’ve been quite pensive today. He was fairly certain that the quote was talking about masturbation, but he was using it a little differently. He got dressed and was now making some pancakes to distract himself from the loss of his lovely voice. Once he had one then two, he decided to make a third for Daisy, then a few more for her kids, then he glanced over at the Devo’s and Haine’s door, furrowing his brow, and grabbed another box of pancake mix.

The smell woke Daisy up and she helped him set up some places at the table, one for her, two for Missy and Orca, and one for the Slayer. Once she was done the Slayer gave her a look and held up six fingers. Two more places were added and she wiggled her wings in excitement. “I know you very sad, Slayer, but kids made you drawing when we all fighting.” She set a sheet of printer paper on the counter and he looked down at the little scribbles and paint covered claw prints on it. His heart hurt when he saw plain as day in Samuel’s handwriting “Missy and Orca.” He hoped Crüe brought home good news, Christ it was awful being home like this. He took the drawing and used some magnets to pin it to the fridge, giving Daisy a smile.

She bobbed her head and seemed proud of her children, “Yes, yes!”

He picked up the plate of pancakes and set them on the table. Daisy ran over to wake her children and he crossed the room and walked over to the menacing bedroom door. He knocked on it, loud and strong.

Devo and Haine had both been sitting on the bed, contemplating their shitty position of living in the Slayer’s home. Haine leapt up and basically hid behind Devo who rushed over to the door. He opened it expecting Crüe and was absolutely terrified, “Hello.” He said in a meek little voice.

The Slayer pulled the door open, prying them out of their shells. He sat down at the table and grabbed a pancake, setting it down on his plate, dressing it up with butter and syrup, then eating it. He wasn’t waiting for them to come out, but by the murderous look in his eyes Devo hurried out and pulled Haine along.

Crüe had told them once he got home he would show them some human traditions so they weren't completely lost, but now it was time for them to be alone with the Slayer and have to deal with it on their own. Devo pulled out his chair and sat down by Daisy, her kids were on the opposite side of the table, the Slayer was sitting at the head. Haine slowly sat down at the other end of the table. He didn’t even have an appetite; he was so petrified.

The Slayer kept his head down as he gulped down the food, he figured this was how he gained Crüe and Daisy’s trust with a bit of food and forcing them out of their comfort zone a bit. Of course, neither of them were eating. He set his fork down, watching them both jump, and shoved the plate of pancakes down to their end.

Devo took two and Haine only took one. They mirrored what they watched the Slayer do with his pancakes.

After a few minutes Haine had barely touched his food and leaned back in his chair. He was still struggling to come to terms with the fact that Crüe had been a traitor to hell, and a whole variety of other confusing issues that had popped up with his father. His headache still remained and he felt like shit. He found he couldn’t sleep in someplace where he was so on edge, so his eyes had dark circles under them. He wanted to put his head in his hands and cry, the last thing he wanted to do was eat.

Devo grabbed Haine’s arm, silently scolding him then turned to the Slayer, “He’s just tried but thank you for the meal.”

That made Haine afraid that the Slayer would think he was being a petulant brat. He didn’t need Devo to speak for him like he was a child. He set his fork down and stood up, figuring there was no way to salvage the situation so he was abandoning breakfast. He went to retreat into the bedroom.

SLAM!

He covered his head thinking the Slayer had shot at him, but when he whirled around the man had simply slammed his hand onto the table. The Slayer was pissed at Haine, his lips curled in a snarl. The demon had the audacity to exist, ruining the perfect ever after he imagined for him and Crüe, and now had the audacity to go against his wishes.

He quietly mumbled out, “Sorry.” He stumbled over, planting his ass down in the chair, regretting everything he said in the past minute. He started eating the pancake and felt tears of shame well up in his eyes.

The Slayer wondered if that had been too much. Daisy was giving him a little side eye. Then she spoke up, “Little marauder.” She tapped her fingers on the table to get Haine’s attention, “Forgive Slayer he is cranky. He has not even given “thank you’s” to both of you for saving him.” She paused and turned to him.

He nodded and gave them a little wave, annoyed that Daisy wasn’t scolding both of them as he intended to. He leaned away from the table and coughed into his elbow.

“You could let Crüe die by Grim, but you did not. There merit in your choice. I like you both.”

Devo gave her a toothy grin, “Thank you Daisy.”

Haine had stopped fixing himself to eat and sat unmoving, staring down at his plate. His head still throbbed with pain from the headache that he wasn’t able to shake.

The man quickly wrote up a note and handed it to Daisy who was much better at talking to the marauders than he was.

Daisy quickly ate half her pancake in one disgusting bite while reading it then spoke up, “The Slayer says needs help.”

Chapter 102: Forging, Fainting, and Feeding

Forging new armor was a lengthy process, luckily he still had his helmet thanks to Daisy because that was an absolute bitch to reforge. Though he disabled the cords that allowed him to quickly shed his armor. He wasn’t making that mistake ever again.

He had done this so many times it had almost become second nature. His hands moved and poured and hammered the molten metal into what made him the Slayer. He was taking it in steps due to the severity of his burns. First, he would forge the metal which was the most strenuous task, but with Devo and Haine doing the heavy lifting he should be able to manage. Daisy finally got a break from being his little forge helper and instead went swimming with the little ones.

Then, he’d work on the fine details such as the many servos and circuit boards that kept his suit functioning, along with that he’d need new under armor. That was something that could be done sitting at the kitchen table, not like the initial process where he had to be in the roasting engine room of the ship, melting metal in a makeshift little forge that was powered by the heat.

The last steps were more cosmetic and rather fun like paint and some LEDs.

Devo and Haine were working hard in the forging room. They fed the fire with shovels full of coal, managed the airflow, and did all the other hot and painful shit. They tried to keep their eyes focused on the forge as they assumed the Slayer didn’t want them to see how he reforged his mystical armor that could steal the very essence of hell.

He poured out some molten metal into a makeshift mold, crafted from memory, side stepping a glob that tried to land on his arm. After a bit of cooling, he took it and a hammer, pounding out the kinks and dents. Progress was fast, he had both gauntlets done, the breastplate done, and was working on hammering one of the boots. All he had left was another boot, all the upper limb armor, and his codpiece and the stuff for his abs.

He wasn’t thinking about what he was doing too much, not paying attention to his motions because they were all so familiar. It was like breathing or a dance he had long since memorized. It gave him time to think back on his relationship with Crüe. Then his mind wandered to stuff that brought tears to his eyes. Vega leaving, Haru, Samuel… he vowed to hold his family that was still alive a little closer. He glanced up at Haine and Devo breaking his meditative state.

Devo was strong like Crüe and also bullheaded. He was managing just fine at the work he was given.

Haine was a bit scrawnier but he had been managing well. Now the Slayer watched as the demon struggled against the heat, each shovel of coal seemed to be wearing him down. He was young, but still he should be near his prime. He shouldn’t have been struggling that much.

He poured his other boot into the mold then out of the corner of his eye he watched Haine sway and stumble. He dropped the molten metal just in time to dive across the forge room and catch Crüe’s son before he crumbled to the floor. The next few minutes were chaos of him and Devo shutting down the forge, rushing Haine out into the hull, and dumping buckets of cold water onto the kid.

He was awake and a bit panicked. His eyes darted around but he’d let out a little cry of pain each time the Slayer touched his neck or head. The man’s stomach did a queasy flip because he immediately knew what was wrong and all that was left was to test his theory. He reached out and touched the kid’s horns, making him scream out in pain. He frantically shoved his phone into Devo’s hand and watched as he called Crüe.

Crüe might as well have teleported down there he sprinted out of the meeting and dashed down halls before coming to a screeching halt in front of the kid. He scooped him up in his arms and began the panicked speed walk back to the apartment. “Slayer, I told you to rest today. Not to forge your fuckin armor!”

The man was meek, nodding with agreement at his scolding. He knew that was coming.

Devo tried to stick up for him, “We were helping him with the heavy lifting! Shouldn’t we take Haine to a healer?”

Crüe shook his head, “Humans know nothing about horns.” He snapped back at him.

The Slayer offered a note, ‘Marty?’ He held it out so Crüe could read it, trying to not be a burden on his very stressed out lover.

“I already did he must have gotten a new fucking phone and didn’t have the decency to tell us his new number.” Crüe let out a horrific hiss of rage as he hurried into the bathroom and set the kid down.

Haine was on his knees, head leaning over the side of the tub. They shined lights on his horns until the problem was located. The many rings of growth that made up his horns almost seemed disjointed, a small bead of blood oozed out of some of the worst gaps between them. Devo let out a gasp and immediately yelled at Haine, “Why would you take those! I told you this would happen!”

Crüe let out an equally as pissed off groan, “Did you take them after I snapped off your horns?”

Haine nodded, wincing at the effort, “I had to take them so I could be at the trial. My horns were in bad shape.” His hands were balled into fists and he pressed his chest hard against the side of the tub, trying to suffocate any cry or whimper he desperately wanted to let out.

The Slayer gave them all a confused look, and Devo explained, “He took medication to speed up his horn growth. Only thing is it makes them grow in all brittle and weak so it’s not even worth taking. That’s what your headaches have been from!”

The Slayer tapped his head, made a yanking motion, and then gave a confused thumbs up.

Devo blinked, “What?”

Crüe nodded understanding the Slayer, “Exactly. So Haine, we’ll just pull your horns out then they’ll grow back in normally.” He knew that sometimes it could take two or three regrowths to fully rid the body of that medicine, but he hoped that wasn’t the case for Haine.

Haine gritted his teeth and rubbed his face with his hands. All he could really muster out was a weak little, “Ok.” His whole head ached as a migraine pounded his brain. He was willing to do anything to get rid of the horrific pain.

The next few minutes were a blur of horror and sharp stabbing pain. Both of his tall long horns had to be pulled out slowly to ensure they didn’t snap inside his skull. At least the ones on the side of his head were safe from the Slayer’s hands. They cleaned the blood off his head and neck, medicated him with some liquid medicine Devo had that he referred to only as the “good stuff”, and laid him on the couch. He was dizzy and white as a sheet, the two open wounds on his head oozed a bit of blood still and Crüe was holding gauze to them.

Devo sat down on the other couch and the Slayer did the same, exhausted at the effort of today. His burns ached and he had bled through his bandages in quite a few places. Devo spoke up, “Thanks for catching him, Slayer.”

He just nodded and waved his hand. The poor kid looked pathetic and that’s what the man was mainly worried about. He also realized that both marauders had been in their dirty armor since their arrival.

Crüe walked over to them once the bleeding stopped and looked at his son from a distance, “I can’t believe he was feeling that sick with open sores up and down his horns yet he still tried to help out.”

“He’s certainly a marauder,” Devo clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, “One of us.”

The Slayer could see how Crüe’s eyes glanced at the door and he motioned towards it, trying to ask him if he had to go.

Crüe seemed reluctant to say yes, but he nodded.

Devo watched as his brother reluctantly walked out the door, waving goodbye. Just as Crüe clicked the lock shut, Devo's stomach growled, unsatisfied by the pancakes. He felt embarrassed and hoped the Slayer hadn’t heard, but the man was already standing up and walking over to the kitchen.

The next thing he knew he was making some soup for the three of them. The whole day had seemed like a blur, as if it was hundreds of years ago when he made them breakfast. As he went he was teaching Devo how to use the appliances, using vague motions and grunts. He also had gotten him out of his dirty armor and into a clean ARC shirt and jogging pants, same for the little marauder.

Devo was an enthusiastic and voracious learner, which was exactly what the Slayer wanted because his burns were beginning to ache too badly to continue. Half way through he had to go into the bedroom and lay down, taking his medication. Once he came back out he felt better and the soup was almost done. They poured it into bowls and sat near Haine on the couch to eat it. The kid tried to strain to sit up, but he couldn’t make it. He resigned himself to not eating and laid back down.

The Slayer motioned for him to rest and he brought over his bowl of soup, he gently scooped up a tiny spoonful of the broth and touched it to Haine’s teeth.

The demon looked up, scared to eat anything from the man. The Slayer pressed it against his teeth a little harder and he gave in, lapping it up with his tongue. Once he started running out of broth he’d gently scoop up a few noodles and repeat the same process. He did this until the bowl was empty, every molecule of broth and noodle was gone.

Devo had long finished his bowl. He had been watching the whole thing with fascination. He never realized the Slayer even had the capacity to be that kind and gentle. It sort of explained why Crüe fell for him. “Your soup is cold.”

The Slayer just grabbed it and shrugged. He figured if he got burned anymore he’d look like a crispy chicken nugget so it was probably better to eat it cold.

They sat in silence for a while with Devo watching the Slayer eat his soup. The whole time he was carefully thinking and considering his options before he finally gave in and spoke up, “Here you deserve to have these back.” He handed the Slayer two gold wedding rings. “I snatched them up when the Imp that Grim handed them to dropped them.”

The Slayer snatched them out of Devo's hands looking at them frantically. He was so sure they had been lost. They didn’t look like the beautiful shiny surface he had originally made. Each one was covered with scratches, dents, and a bit of hellish tarnish, yet they were still wearable and in his hands.

Devo leaned back and looked away. He wasn’t particularly happy that Crüe would be marrying a human, but at least it seemed like a good human. He watched as the Slayer kept rolling them around in his hands; he could barely believe they were still even in his hands. He felt a bit queasy thinking about it. He couldn’t deny the Slayer’s love for Crüe. He wondered what Bell would say to him if she found out.

Chapter 103: The "Ceremony"

“Crüe do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

He leaned forwards and smiled, “I do.”

There was a pause from the officiant. Their face didn't change as if they hadn’t heard him.

Crüe tried to speak more clearly, “I do.”

“Oh whoops! Sorry about that, I put you on mute.” Their embarrassed face glowed up at them through the screen of a tablet Elena had let them borrow. They leaned down and clicked a button, “Ok try now.”

“I do.” He gripped the Slayer’s hands under their kitchen table and gave him a confused look. Glancing at the text box in their video call that the Slayer had already typed his own “I do” into.

The officiant's face gave no indication that they heard them until a solid five seconds had passed, then they nodded and gave the two love birds a thumbs up, “Ok all good! I’ll ship your papers to you and that’s it. Bye.”

“But wait don’t we kiss and exchange the rings-“ Crüe couldn’t halt the officiant and they left the call, leaving him and the Slayer alone in their apartment, newly wed.

The Slayer turned to him and slowly placed his ring on the demon’s finger. Crüe did the same. Then, he reached up, grabbed his horns, and gave him a kiss. The mere act of doing so made his neck ache and he thought he might bleed through his bandages if he kept the odd angle so he had to cut it short.

There was no uproarious crowd cheering them on as they walked back down the aisle as one. There was no family and friends huddled around them. They sat there in silence for a few moments, both leaning against each other thinking of all they had lost and all they were still afraid to lose. They got up and put the tablet on charge together.

The only molecule of any celebration was a bottle of wine Crue had snuck out and bought last night after Haine and Devo were asleep. Yesterday had been hell with his son falling ill. He poured two glasses and they sat on the bed. “This isn’t what I expected.” He said in an odd neutral voice.

Even when he had been shown the rings all he could think of was how Grim held them in his grasp. The grand reveal had been ruined and the celebration had long since been dead on arrival.

The Slayer put his hand on the demon's thigh, passing him a note, ‘We could do it over when everything goes back to normal.’

Crüe read the note and played with it in his hands, folding the paper until it was a tiny square. “No, it’s not that. All I want is this.” He squeezed the Slayer’s hand and leaned into him. He spoke with a trembling voice, “I love you.”

The Slayer felt tears run down his face that he couldn’t stop, he laid his head against Crüe’s chest and felt like a failure. Despite his flesh healing and him starting to get back on track he had failed his lover in so many ways. Samuel and Haru loomed over every move he made. They should have been at their wedding. Their wedding should have been a happy event with a big party afterwards and a honeymoon. Instead it was a desperate little ceremony of them silently begging the gods to not separate them.

They both drank some wine trying to chase the feelings of sadness away and cried softly trying to find comfort in each other.

Eventually Devo returned from an adventure of getting food at the cafeteria, Daisy and her children bounded alongside him. Wiping his tears away, Crüe hid the wine and glasses in their room and stepped out, “Having a good time in the human world?”

Devo was just stepping out of the spare bedroom and closed the door behind him, motioning to it, “It was nice. Haine’s still resting. He said thanks for moving him off the couch though.” His eyes glanced down and he nodded and the wedding band on his finger, “That’s nice, so… you’re married?”

Crüe looked down and gave a sad smile, “Yeah, yeah I am.” He wished he could speak his mind and yell out that he wished half his family and friends were still alive. That he never expected to be so depressed and sad on his wedding day. He wished he could even give his groom a hug without tearing open scabbed over burns. His very heart hurt and ached. He regretted making the Slayer pull them out into the public no matter how accidental their reveal actually was.

They parted and went their separate ways, Devo went to tend to Haine and Crüe went to tend to the Slayer. Daisy sat with Missy and Orca.

She had been feeling the sadness that weighed down on the whole house, the children too. She made her children sit on the couch and walked over to the spare room. She sat beside Crüe’s son as Devo mixed up another cocktail of drugs to help his pain. His horns were coming in well, no issues like how Crüe often had. “Sorry we are all sad.”

Haine opened his eyes and looked up at her, he reached out his hand and scratched under her mandibles. He didn’t really know how to respond to that apology. As much as he realized they were going through a difficult time, especially his father, he wished Crüe would give him a minute of his time. He didn’t know why he desperately wanted a big old happy family all of the sudden, probably because he could see it in front of him, just out of reach, but still. “It’s fine.”

Devo poured some fantastic liquid drugs that would cure his aches out of a bottle and into a small cup, setting them both on the nightstand, “I feel bad that Crüe is so depressed, the Slayer too of course, but-“ he shook his head, “Sometimes when I’m talking to him you can just see the life drain out of his face.” He made the motion of his hand going over his face. “It’s tough to see my brother going through that.” He set the cup and bottle down on the nightstand. “Take your dose whenever you’re ready Haine.”

Daisy hopped off the bed, letting Haine drink it in peace. “How gargoyles in hell- ah how do say?” She paused thinking carefully, “How they doing?”

“Like how their numbers, politics, and hordes are doing?” Devo asked, confused. “They are good I guess. They seem to be holding strong despite the chaos of a whole failed invasion.”

“Still no hands?” She held up her fingers, wiggling them as Haine reached over, drinking down his medicine from the bottle.

“Nope, I've only seen gargoyles with blades.” Devo seemed a bit bummed he couldn’t give her any more information. “I was just going to wipe down my armor if you’d like to help.”

The two sat on the floor Daisy’s children eventually darting into and out of the room, playing with each other. Devo was skilled with the way he worked, using a piece of rough leather to wipe down crusty chunks of blood and gore into a cup, but he wasn’t as fanatical as the Slayer. She helped with some of the smaller cracks and crevices in the armor, feeling a bit of embarrassment at cleaning their enemies armor.

Haine sat up and groaned, a sheen of sweat covered his face and chest. “Devo, I feel bad.”

He looked over at the bed stand, seeing the still full cup of medicine. “Drink the good stuff then! You left the cup untouched.” He turned back to his armor.

Haine looked down at the bottle he had drunk from. “I didn’t drink from that.” His voice was tiny and meek; he was terrified of what he had just done to himself, but there was also a deep calming feeling rushing over him.

Devo now was confused and stood up, grabbing the now empty bottle out of Haine’s hand. “Shit.”

Haine felt dizzy and closed his eyes feeling a horrific high wash over him slowly. “Did I just overdose myself?”

Devo shook his head and recalled how much was originally in the bottle. “It wasn’t enough to hurt you, horn medicines are tame, but you’re gonna be tripping balls for a while.” He set the bottle down, “Daisy, go get Crüe.”

She scampered off and traded places with the marauder. Crüe came hurrying in, “Is Haine ok?”

Devo seemed horrifically embarrassed, “I poured his dose out and he drank from the bottle. I’m an idiot. I should have paid more attention to what he was doing. Listen, I'm going to go to the medbay and convince them to replenish my drug stash and you stay with him while he goes through his trip.”

Haine was still sitting up, swaying a bit. His skin was pale and clammy.

That was too much information for him to process all at once and Crüe shook his head and leaned back away from Haine, sort of blocking Devo’s way out of the door, “Replenish your drug stash? What drugs are you talking about? That’s not how a medbay works.”

Devo gestured towards Haine, “What I gave him, nothing addictive or crazy, just a little bit of painkillers! What, are humans stingy with their medicine?”

Haine made a pained little noise and Crue buried his face in his hands, “But painkillers are addic- You know what, fine, go to the medbay take the Slayer with you have him do all the talking.” He thought about that for a moment and realized that wouldn’t work, “Take Daisy to have her do the actual talking.” He watched as they left and he slowly walked over to his son. “Haine, how are you feeling?”

He opened his eyes and looked over at Crue. He seemed pathetic, like a shrunken down husk in the bed he was in. His horns were only about halfway grown in. “I just feel bad.”

“Ok. Ok.” Crüe pulled over a chair and tried to comfort him, “I’ve had the same thing happen to me. My horns hurt, I asked for medicine, and a friend of the Slayer gave me a bit too much and I was all loopy.” He reached out and offered out his hand to his son.

Haine took it, weaving his fingers between Crüe’s. His breathing was a little faster and his eyes were struggling to stay open all the way. He was still able to tell reality from what wasn’t actually there. He knew Crüe was beside him, but he also knew that his blankets weren't moving around like the waves of the sea. It felt like he was on the ominous ascent of a roller coaster and any second he was about to begin the actual ride.

He had been high before. In fact, other than being high there wasn’t much to do when you lived in the middle of the blood swamps all alone. This time was different because he had no control and he was terrified of being alone as he spiraled. He squeezed Crüe’s hand and tears welled up in his eyes despite his best efforts to control his emotions. “Dad, please don’t go. I don’t want to be alone.”

“Dad” was always a funny word to Crüe. A simple short palindrome and the person who bore it in his life loved to terrorize his every waking moment. Most importantly he never thought he’d be called it.

His first reaction was sheer panic, but he kept himself put together for Haine. The daze he had been in since getting married a few short hours ago was gone. Every wall he had put up in his head separating Haine, and Devo for that matter, from his family crumbled at that single word. He squeezed Haine’s hand, giving it a gentle little shake. “I’m not going anywhere. Talk to me, don’t think about what’s happening now.”

Haine rambled on about his life in the blood swamps, how he hated training with the Deag, and how he despised eating fish with everything in his heart. It reminded Crüe a great deal of “The DoomSlayer’s high rant about salad” and he couldn’t help but laugh. By the end of their conversation as Haine was nearly incoherent, and near sleep, Crüe held his hand and his other arm had worked up to his shoulder giving it a reassuring rub. The room around him was silent except for the sound of stormy seas far outside. Haine let out a little random whimper and twitched in his sleep. “You’re ok kid.”

He looked up to see the Slayer peeking at him through the slightly cracked bedroom door. His face had a pained look on it and it made Crüe feel guilty; he was holding what the demon could only assume was painkillers or some other horrific drug. The Slayer walked into the room and sat where Crüe once had, sketching a note, ‘I thought your brother was going to get us arrested. Daisy wanted to show him something on the top deck so it’s just us three.’

Crüe wrote back as to not disturb Haine, ‘That sounds about right.’ He moved down to another line and continued, ‘Haine called me dad.’

The Slayer was simultaneously happy for Crüe and endlessly depressed at that news. Haine was one of the most complicated pieces in his life at the moment. He was like an infection that burrowed into every moment he was awake. He stayed neutral, his face unchanging, but kept the conversation going. ‘I think Devo is warming up to me. He punched my arm and called me bro.’

Crüe felt Haine shift again. This time however he opened his eyes and sat upright a bit. He reached up and touched his horns that were now a little more than three fourths of the way grown in. “I feel like shit.” He had crust around his eyes and his mouth was dry as a blistering desert plane of hell. His movements were still uncoordinated and he wasn’t entirely coherent.

Between Crüe and the Slayer they got him situated in bed, wiped his face off, and gave him a glass of water which he happily gulped down. In the end they both sat by his bedside continuing their exchanging of notes as Haine was in and out of consciousness. ‘I found out I have a check up tomorrow.’ The Slayer seemed a bit nervous, ‘They’ll check my chest, neck, and voice.’

‘That’s good I’m sure everything will be ok.’ He gently played with the man’s hand, ‘They seemed confident you’d be getting your voice back.’

‘I’m just thinking, what if, ya know? I couldn’t live with myself without my voice again.’ He flipped over the piece of paper leaving them both with a clean slate to write on.

Crüe didn’t know how he could comfort his lover. He had every right to be scared out of his mind. ‘Whatever happens. I’m here for you.’

‘I love you.’ The Slayer leaned against the demon and watched as Crüe wrote a little “x2” to his last sentence.

‘I love you. x2’

The Slayer looked up at Haine laying in bed and just desperately wished he could talk to Crüe about everything. He couldn’t write out his feelings in fucking notes. He would do anything to get his voice back.

Chapter 104: The "Wedding Night"

Daisy took Devo up to the greenhouse and sat him down. He was scared that the gargoyle was about to latch onto him and rip him to shreds to feed her children, but they were preoccupied simultaneously eating and playing with a ham sandwich she bought from a vending machine. He shifted in his seat and spoke up, “Any particular reason you brought me up here?”

“Crüe need to give attention to Haine and also Slayer. Me and you sit and talk while they sort out silly feelings.” She reclined in one of the raised garden beds, crushing weeks of growth from the little seedlings, “I thought you were bad,” she bared her teeth in reference, “Like evil creature, but you good.”

Devo nodded, still processing his feelings about her forcing him to be away from Haine for a bit, “Well to be fair I thought the Slayer was abusing you and Crüe. So we’ll call it even.”

“Did Grim hurt you too?” She asked looking down at her hands admiring the surgeon's fine handy work. Missy and Orca went quiet in the corner, their incessant chirping quieted down.

“My transformation…” He paused and tried to dredge up the painful memories, “I was the same as everyone else, just as sickly and pathetic until they gave me that liquid to drink. Then, not only was I one of the only people alive, I was doing great. They took me away from my caretaker and I lived with Grim full time for about a month.” He plucked a little seedling out of its container and squashed it between his fingers, smearing the splattered chlorophyll around between his forefinger and thumb, “It was hell having him looming over me, monitoring everything I did. Anytime something went wrong he wanted to cut it out and replace it with tech or some genetic modification he ripped off some other poor creature. I don’t like to think about it, and I’m glad to be out of there.”

“We all run from Grim, now even Slayer has faced him and fell.” Daisy looked over at her children as they bounced around the greenhouse, surprisingly being nondestructive, “I hope they never gnash teeth against him.”

Devo was saddened by this conversation, not because he was afraid of Grim, but because he missed Bell. He felt like life would be perfect if he could return to her with Haine and Crüe in tow. He knew that Crüe would never return, but that hurt his heart so much. He wanted his brother and life to be just like it was before they were marauders. It made him angry that things had changed so much, that he couldn’t bond with his own brother like he used to be able to. It felt like all the long nights of them together sitting on the back porch talking about life were gone. “Is this area open at night?”

She laughed, “No, but you live with Slayer, you do what you want.” She snorted with a frown, “Besides eating people or gargoyles. They weird with that.”

Devo got squeamish for a second and seemed uncomfortable.

Daisy remembered the picture from the bar and felt equally awkward for bringing that up accidentally. They hadn’t asked him about it in the chaotic shuffle, and probably wouldn’t get a chance for a while. She stood and began heading down to the apartment once more. “You come?”

He seemed hunched over on himself, gripping the boards of the little shelf behind him, “I’ll stay up here. I want to think about things.”

“Meh.” She shrugged her wings and managed to wrestle Missy out of the greenhouse, but Orca stayed with Devo. It warmed her heart. It was one of the first times they had been willingly separated. She was quite gleeful to only have to worry about one child for a while.

Devo sat down beside one of the raised beds and rested his chin on the side of the wood. He knew he needed to be withdrawn for a while. It’s simply what he did, how he processed emotions. He felt a similar grief to when he thought Crüe had died by the Slayer’s hand or when he thought he was kidnapped by the Slayer. This time he wasn’t mourning Crüe, he was mourning his brother.

It was stupid, but he expected Crüe would still be the same good brother he lost centuries ago. He felt like he was pretty similar despite a bit of random amnesia and his transformation, so it was a slap in the face that Crüe didn’t even feel like the same person. His brother used to protect him and make sure he was ok.

Crüe seemed to be in a constant state of depression or be completely panicked. He expected that his brother would come in and take care of him after he rescued him from the Slayer. Maybe it was selfish to expect that…

He saw Orca scurry over to him and sit down right on top of his foot, facing away from him. It perched like a little gargoyle, folding its wings in the classic way. Devo bounced his foot, lifting it up and off the floor, watching it hold on. It whipped her head around and let out an annoyed screech.

“Most of the time I like to be alone.” He gave the Gargoyle a bit of a stink eye, but couldn’t hold it for long. The creature just seemed so sweet. He picked it up and tossed it from hand to hand as if he was winding up to splatter it against a wall, of course he would never.

The little creature kept yelling and chirping apparently finding the activity fun, “SCREEEECH!”

He held the gargoyle up as if he was reciting Shakespeare and Orca was the little skull he clutched. Then he ranted about every nanosecond of time that made up his life as he paced the green house. “It all started with my father… you know what and my mother too!”

Orca found it fascinating watching this new marauder with his bright red skin and big green eyes. He was like Orca, a different morph from what was supposed to be normal. His stories were silly; it really only understood bits and pieces of their conversation. Its yells and screeches only encouraged him on and he continued until it was pitch black out with the stars blazing over head.

By then he had tired himself out and they both sat outside the greenhouse staring up at the night, “Did you get all that.”

Orca nodded, “Scree.”

“Like I feel like I have a right to want stuff to be the same. It’s not wrong to hate change. I guess I’ll just have to figure out how to fit into Crüe’s life rather than the other way around.” He watched as one of the humans' many satellites whizzed far overhead, looking like shooting stars. “At least I haven’t been angry recently. Most of the time I just sit there and brood. Talking helps I guess.”

“Scree.”

Devo rubbed his eyes and looked over at the tiny creature, “You know Orca is a stupid name.”

“Scree?” It looked over curious at the marauder.

“You should be named Skull, or Ghost, or Spirit. Something cool.” He flicked the tiny creature’s wing making it yelp and try to bite him.

It nodded its head in a furiously happy yes, “SCREE!”

Back at the apartment Daisy sat with Crüe on the couch. The Slayer had lost the energy to continue moping about the house and was anxious about going to a doctor's appointment tomorrow so he headed to bed. Haine was still half asleep half awake in the bedroom. Daisy and Crüe were both hunched over his phone doom scrolling the internet. Crüe had seen a few articles talking about how injured the Slayer had been, or the new marauders that were on the ARC carrier and he basically read every scrap of information he could. Worst of all, somehow their marriage license had been leaked already and sent to the press. He gave up trying to understand the massive pouring of information and put on some random documentary. It wasn’t even about goats, but it was still better than fueling the anxiety boiling in his stomach.

Daisy poked his arm with her mandible, trying to get a reaction. She felt as though she had been lazy recently, no fighting, the kids were getting grown. She felt like it was her job to reunite the little fractured family that remained. “Crüe very sad, but why? Sick?”

He sighed, leaning forwards to prop his phone up against a glass of water on the coffee table and leaned back into the warmth of the couch. “Daisy these past few days have been simultaneously the best and worst of my life.” He shrugged, feeling awful about the whole situation with everyone and everything. He felt as though his claws had single handedly hurt everyone around him. “I have a son who expects me to be a father, a brother who expects me to be a sibling, and a brand new husband who expects me to be his lawfully wedded demon.” He shook his head, “I feel like I can’t do any of those things right now, everywhere I turn I’m letting someone down. Not to mention two of them need me as a full time nurse right now.”

“You feel pull in different directions?” Daisy nodded, “Ya, ya.” She poked his arm again as he started to let his mind wander, “What direction should I go to help?”

Crüe actually smiled at that, he covered his face with his hands and groaned, “God, you can be so nice sometimes Daisy, other times you eat people it’s a bit of a toss up.”

She smacked him with her wing and nudged him again, “Who I cover for you?”

He pointed towards the spare bedroom, “Can you watch the kid tonight. I feel like the Slayer will need me.”

She nodded and scampered off before Crüe could change his mind.

The once grand fighter of hell slowly shut his phone off and stood from the cozy couch. His stiff back demanded he stretched and only then was he able to make his way to the bedroom. He expected to see the Slayer sleeping but instead the little bastard of a man was sitting up, fighting sleep. “You need rest.” Crüe shed his shirt and pants and crawled up onto the bed, gently grabbing the man’s face and pulling him in for a kiss. He loved the way the Slayer melted underneath him.

The man’s hands reached up and grabbed the elastic band of the demon’s underwear trying to pull them down, but Crüe shied away from the very welcome touch. “Your burns. We might rip them open.”

The Slayer looked up at him frustrated and reached over grabbing his notepad.

Crüe rolled off the man and laid down beside him, watching lazily as he wrote a note and handed it to him.

‘I hate my stupid burns. I just want to talk to you.’ The man was practically pouting and he seemed miserable. It’s like he was trapped in his own body. He couldn’t move as much as he could, he couldn’t speak.

“Trust me, I hate them too.” He caressed the man’s thigh. “We can still talk with notes.”

The Slayer’s face furrowed into angry silent snarl, he tossed the notepad onto the floor, and awkwardly scooted into the touch leaning against the demon. He gently reached over and his fingers brushed over the demon's hand, their rings brushing for a brief moment. He felt miserably depressed. It was his wedding night and he expected that he would be ravishing the marauder with his entire body and heart. Instead he was laying around feeling like he was a million miles away from the demon. He laid down and hugged Crüe close, feeling him gently lay his hands on his back. He wrapped his beefy legs around the demon trying to hold on to him so tight that not even Grim with his fiery hands could ever separate them.

Chapter 105: More Than I Could Ever Give You

“Well… would you like the good news, or the bad news first?” The doctor walked into the small exam room and walked over to a little computer, clicking away at the Slayer’s medical file, filling in information. He seemed unfazed at whatever bad information he was holding back from the Slayer.

The Slayer quickly scribbled out a note and held it up, tapping it, ‘Bad news first.’

The doctor looked over and laughed, shaking his head. “No, then it will spoil the good news. Good news first!” He turned his swivel chair to the Slayer and clapped his hands together, “You’re able to start speaking again! Just a little bit at a time, I’d imagine you know your limits with that.” He instructed the Slayer on a few tests to see how much his voice had healed. “You won’t sound nearly as nice as you did before and your throat will probably always give you issues.”

His first words were more like syllables and prefixes than an “Oh thank god.” He could handle the bad as long as he had the good.

Despite the annoying gauntlet of speaking random words to the doctor who would nod and mark something down on a sheet of paper, the Slayer let out a sigh of relief. Once it was over, he nodded his head and went to write out a note, but stopped and spoke instead. “Bad news?” After all his work and healing his voice was about the same as it was once before. It sounded like he was gargling gravel while getting kicked in the balls. The painful tugging sensation was luckily still gone but it stung a bit when he talked, like a sore throat.

“Bad news is you need to keep your burns much cleaner. I’ll get you some good soap, not the cheap shit they have in these apartments. Also no more wrapping them with gauze or any kind of covering. I’m refilling your antibiotics-“ the doctor babbled on, but the Slayer didn’t mind.

He was relieved he still somewhat had a voice. In the end as long as he could muster out an “I love you” to Crüe, Daisy, and the kids. He’d be ok.

Of course, the bad news was still quite bad. The instructions for keeping his wounds clean were horrific, much more horrific than he originally thought. Scrubbing the tender half healed flesh hurt with his hands, but they gave him a brush and demanded he use it or a washcloth when getting a daily bath. He felt like a child.

Apparently his skin was healing so fast, much faster than muscle, they were worried about it healing from the outside and leaving him with a festering mess on the inside, so he had to continuously knock off his deep scabs and meticulously pry open every deep laceration he sustained from debriding his burns before it trapped anything inside it.

Once he got home he greeted Crüe by actually speaking to him and went into the bathroom. He tried for about three minutes to clean his neck before he had tears in his eyes and was calling for Crüe. “Help.” He was sitting on the side of the tub with a bit of blood running down his neck from where he opened up a deep laceration and found it very much had healed over itself.

Crüe seemed to light up in a panic, he grabbed a towel and tried to hold it to his neck but the Slayer shook his head. “We have to take you to the medbay, how do they expect us to be able to fix this?”

“I did before,” he paused to take a breath and rub his throat, avoiding the wound, “Years ago.”

“Do you need help?” Crüe asked, feeling bile rise in his throat when the Slayer nodded, handing him a hard bristled brush. He helped the man into the tub, leaned his head back and basically started scrubbing his neck going from right under his jaw dragging straight down to his collar bone then up and again. He watched as the Slayer gripped onto the side of the tub and squeezed his eyes shut in pain.

A bit of blood came out of the various deep lacerations along with a bit of gunk Crüe couldn’t even fathom to look at. This poor man. The Slayer never deserved any of this. If he had been stronger he could have stopped these horrific injuries.

“I got rest.” The Slayer reached over and tried to take the brush back. It and a long enough handle he was confident he could use it. Doing his neck just made him feel weird.

Crüe attempted to help him turn around, “No, I got it. There’s no need for you to hurt yourself.” He pressed the brush against his upper chest.

The Slayer tried to grab the brush, “I’m strong.” He smiled up at Crüe, trying to make some light of the horrific situation they always seemed to be in.

Crüe pulled it back, out of reach of the man, “I already told you I got it.” If the Slayer somehow hurt himself again or anyone in his family he genuinely thought he would go crazy. He went to press the brush down.

The Slayer’s hands darted out and he grabbed it, yanking it out of his grasp. It was childish and stupid but so was a doctor telling him he had to get a bath daily along with a shower-

“I FUCKING GOT IT! I TOLD YOU!” Crüe screamed out like a wounded animal and scared the Slayer so badly he dropped the brush.

He surrendered with wide eyes and leaned back, letting the demon reach down into the tub and grab the brush. He went dead silent for the rest of the time, guilt welling up in his chest. Crüe cleaned him up with the same brutal yet gentle pace he kept with his neck. A bit of dry skin and gunk was freed from his flesh and his front was fixed up. He could hear Crüe choking back tears and he’d feel him occasionally stop to wipe at his face. Crüe helped him up and back to the bedroom, making him lay on his back, not his side. Which was a new demand from the doctors as well. Before the demon could leave the Slayer spoke up, “I’m sorry.”

Crüe stopped dead in his tracks and looked up, tears poured down his face and his shoulders fell. He turned and sat down on the bed leaning down to be beside the Slayer. He squeezed his upper arm, and pressed his forehead against the Slayer’s, feeling his warmth. “No, I’m sorry. You deserve more than I could ever give you.”

The Slayer struggled in bed, shoving himself upright and grabbed onto Crüe, shaking the demon for saying something so stupid. “Crüe?!”

Crüe leaned back and took a deep shaky breath, struggling to speak past his frantic sadness. “I’ve been a terrible husband to you.” He held onto the Slayer, holding the sleeves of his ARC t-shirt so tightly as if he were afraid the man would run from him. “I’m worthless. I can’t do anything for anyone. I can’t be a good brother or father or husband. I’m a fucking failure.” The Slayer tried to speak up but Crüe cut him off, “No, I’m the one who got us captured. I’m the reason Haru is dead.” He sobbed in the Slayer’s arms, not caring if the whole ship heard his pathetic wails. He met the Slayer’s eyes and gave him a horrifically pained look, “Haine… Devo.” He couldn’t even continue with his list of all the reasons why he couldn’t even string together a sentence without sobbing. “I’m the reason you’re all burnt to hell.”

The Slayer tackled him in a hug so ferociously he ripped his lacerations open again. His throat felt like it was wrapped in barbed wire from the tears he was holding back so he tried to manage his words carefully. He pulled away and pounded his fist and forearm against the demon's chest in tune with the three words he spoke, “I. LOVE. YOU.” He wiped a tear off his face and grabbed Crüe’s horns, “I love you.”

Crüe looked down at him. He grabbed their sheets and held it against the man’s neck and chest to stop the little bit of bleeding, “I love you too, but I just feel like I’m drowning.” His beautiful, familiar red eyes were puffy and sunken in.

The Slayer voice finally failed him and was aching and he had to quickly grab a notebook off the nightstand to continue the conversation, ‘None of that was your fault. Missions go bad and sometimes there is nothing we can do. Haru died so we could still be here!’ He set the notepad down for a moment and tried to hold the marauder. He was praying that his voice would magically come back but the fact he couldn’t comfort the demon with words was making himself more upset. ‘I can start pulling my weight more with Devo and Haine now that I’m getting better. I’ll help you like I should have been doing this entire time.’ He shoved down any disdain he had for the two new marauders.

Between Daisy swooping in to help him with Haine and now the Slayer offering help, Crüe took a deep breath. Despite the panic still in his chest and the deep guilt he’d feel for eons afterwards, he nodded, “Thank you, Slayer.” He was still crying, still red and snot faced, but he could now see the light at the end of the tunnel. He gave the Slayer’s hand a squeeze, still only partially believing all those nice things that were said about him.

They both finally reclined in bed not really caring that it was only the early afternoon. They curled up in each other’s arms. Their limbs twisted together like the gnarled roots of a tree. Their warm bodies laying beside each other, shoulders pressed under chins just to hold on a little longer. Each one willing to defend the other with the strength of a lion.

Everything was not back as it was. They should be worrying about a particular robot storming in with some stupid idea, or a prudish, jealous little cat who doesn’t approve of them being in the same room alone together. Now instead they had an imploding angel, Vega’s conscience, a brother, a son, and now a mission that would send them back to hell.

As much as the universe loved tearing them apart, it had a hell of a way of making sure they got back together.

‘I’m worried about Haine.’ The Slayer held up the note so Crüe could see it. Now a few hours later they were in bed laying on their backs, kicking their feet like girlies as they wrote notes back and forth.

‘Me too. He’s messed up I think, scared to death of everything, skittish like a deer.’ He thought back to when he almost hurt the kid and his stomach dropped.

‘Not like that.’ The Slayer had to be careful about the way he worded his thoughts. He didn’t want it to come off like he hated Haine, but he didn’t want to stifle what he was feeling. ‘I mean how it affects us. It’s selfish but the kid is a lot. Him calling you dad? It’s just never something I expected we’d be dealing with.’ He looked over trying to get a read on what Crüe was feeling.

Crüe paused to understand what the Slayer was trying to explain, ‘I feel like I have a duty to him though, and Devo too. They are my flesh and blood. Not to mention, I don’t want that kid to turn out like me. I want him to have some kind of normal household and people he can talk to.’

‘Why didn’t you tell me when I first woke up?’ The Slayer prodded.

‘I wasn’t sure how much you remembered of the fight. I didn’t want you to freak out and try to kill them. I was going to try and ease you into it.’ Crüe rested his head against the Slayer’s, ‘I wasn’t trying to hide it from you or put you on the spot. I’m sorry.’

He returned the gesture and leaned into his husband's warmth. Conflicting feelings about Haine still swirled through him. He decided to repress them until he got to know him a bit better. He was judging the kid off being a bastard and the child of his lover, not exactly a reasonable thing to do. He didn’t want to have the role of father figure assigned to him though. In his old universe that’s what his marriage became, he had to be this fantastic father figure for a step child he barely knew that didn’t understand why he didn’t look like dad anymore. It was frustrating and aggravating especially with family putting their own unhelpful opinions into the situation. He took a deep breath. ‘It’s ok, I’ll try my best with both of them for you.’

‘Thank you.’ Crüe kissed the Slayer and purred out some deep loving affections towards the man.

‘You check on him today?’ The Slayer handed him the note back and poked his pen against the marauder’s horns trying to keep him on topic.

‘Yeah, he’s just a bit loopy. Devo was still sleeping. I guess he was out late last night.’ Crüe shrugged just hoping his brother hadn’t gotten up to trouble.

It was lovely to just sit and talk with each other, and six hours later, two large coffees, a sip of wine (that was stealthy hidden afterwards), two notebooks entirely full of writing, a few tears, and they finally had somewhat of a bearing on the situations that were happening around them.

They decided that Haru would be buried on the island they were set to reach in a few days. They'd have a nice little ceremony without any press finding them.

They finally pieced together the two different chunks of knowledge each one of them had from when they were separated in the UAC Atlantica facility. With that they also planned out what to do about that seraphim that seemed to be constantly and consistently fucking everything up. Vega was brought up a bit but they came to unanimous agreement to do whatever it would take to free him from god. They also decided to take Elena out to dinner or do something nice to make sure she was handling the situation with Samuel decently.

The Slayer was tired and felt like a corpse. His stomach and throat ached from the violence of tearing open every wound and he missed being able to keep them wrapped and protected in gauze. ‘I wanna sleep.’

Crüe was much more chipper as he was the one finishing off a second coffee, “Then rest darling. I’ll be right beside you.” He waited patiently until the Slayer laid down then scooted over, reaching out his claws hands. He gently massaged the man’s scalp watching the Slayer face relax. The man was asleep in a few minutes.

He took a short power nap for an hour then woke up to see that Crüe had actually remained by his side the whole time. The man was scrolling on his phone reading articles about their marriage and the other marauders. He poked the demon, “Get off phone.” He coughed and rubbed his throat, then wrote out the rest, ‘I’m fucking starving.’

“Good, you need to eat, you wanna hit the cafeteria?” Crüe stood up happy to be getting off his phone.

The Slayer sat on the side of the bed, nodded, then sighed, and motioned over to where the other marauder’s were. ‘We should invite them too.’

That warmed Crüe’s heart, “Good idea.”

Chapter 106: Seagulls: The Gargoyles of the Earth

Notes:

 

Wow!! Sorry for the year and a half hiatus there! Last time I updated was December 2023 and now its May 2025. I didn't even really mean to go on a year and a half hiatus. I've continued writing the entire time, but I just haven't found the time to go and post.

Anyways I'm back! With Doom the Dark Ages now out I decided to get back into the swing of writing. That included completely re-writing this fic again which has really smoothed out a lot of inconsistencies in the story. I'm also planning on going through and adding memes, various screenshots, and other images as I have realized that you can put images into fics.

I'm excited to see everyone's thoughts and fanfictions about the new Doom game! I can't wait to get more lore about the sentinels and their home world. Also that big lizard boss looks AMAZING!

Your pal,
CornFlake

There was a knock at the door that startled Haine and Devo. Both of them felt like shit. Haine was reeling from the drugs and Devo was still trying to catch up on his lack of sleep. Haine was the first to get up and open the door, he was wearing a wrinkled shirt and even more wrinkly pants. “Hey do you need something?”

Crüe and the Slayer were standing at their door like two excited Mormons. It was a bit overbearing for how awful Haine was feeling. “Is Devo sleeping?” Crüe asked.

“I was.” The demon slowly pried himself off of his bed and walked over to the door. “What’s happening?”

“We're gonna go out and eat, or maybe find a quiet deck and relax. Would you like to come?” Crüe asked, tilting his head trying to look as non threatening as possible.

Devo shook his head and flopped back down on the bed, “Nope, I’m good.” It was partially the sleep deprivation that made him not want to go, but a majority was him still brooding after chatting with the tiny gargoyle.

Haine nodded his head, “I’ll go with you guys. I need to get out of here.” He changed his clothes into something more presentable and they headed out, down the hallways to the cafeteria.

They walked in the very awkward order of putting Haine right in between them. He was pelted with questions about his life and felt overwhelmed. The Slayer was writing questions as Crüe spoke them resulting in a really over complicated back and forth.

They waited in a painfully long cafeteria line and shuffled off to one of the nice and open upper decks to eat. The Slayer got a slushie that apparently healed his throat up enough to talk again, though it did stain his whole mouth and teeth a terrifying red. Crüe had finished his sandwich before they even got up to the deck.

Haine felt like he could barely eat the sandwich he got. He had felt like that almost since getting into the human world. He’d choke down food when he had to, but he wasn’t quite used to the small three times a day feedings. Like most demons he thought one massive meal every week or two weeks was more than plenty. He saw the Slayer pay for his food with his own money, and felt nervous about wasting it.

But the grace of every Hell Priest and the grand titans of hell a loud white feathery creature swooped down and stole his sandwich. He wanted to lean back and cry out with delight at the fact that his predicament was solved.

Crüe leapt up cursing out the creature which landed far above them on an antenna and proceeded to eat the sandwich while laughing hysterically in a human-like voice. “Slayer, what is that foul beast?!”

The man was laughing so hard he was no longer sitting but laying down sideways on the deck. “Seagulls!” He saw the look on Haine’s face, “Crüe get him another.”

His face twisted into a look of horror, “Oh you don’t have to do that! It’s such a long line and you already got me food. I’m fine.” He tried to reason with Crüe and beg him not to get him more food.

Crüe shook his head, “It’s no big deal! I’ll be right back. I’ll be super fast!” He basically jogged away from them and disappeared down into the boat in an instant.

The Slayer watched as Haine stared at the seagull, the kid looked like he was about to burst into tears and he drank his slurpee down considering his options on how to handle this.

Out in the blood swamps Haine had been in control, sure he was lonely, but he was basically the lone survivor in a massive domain. He was able to control when he ate, when he slept, where he lived, when he went out, every single thing. Now he saw every little bit of that be ripped away from him with Devo’s and Bell’s guidance. He was trapped, everything was foreign to him. The idyllic dream version of his father was all in his head and he was greeted with an angry, broken demon. He didn't even have the balls to stand up for himself and eat only when he wanted to. He felt a tear run down his face and was pinned under the weight of crushing hopelessness.

“I’m assuming this ain’t ‘bout the sandwich.” The Slayer gave him an understanding look and reached out a hand to pat his shoulder. When the demon didn’t respond he continued on handing him a note, ‘Did you hear us yelling earlier?’

Haine drew in a long shaky breath as he took the note, once he was done he looked back up at the seagull, “No, I must have been sleeping. What happened?”

‘Well Crüe thinks he needs to take on the world all by himself sometimes. You get that from him.’ The Slayer rubbed at his throat, feeling the painful lacerations that stopped him from talking. ‘You’re not alone anymore you can ask us for help.’

“I’d rather be alone than here.” He gave the Slayer a curt glance, angry at the comparison between him and Crüe. “I’m leaving the second I get the chance.”

‘See you're smarter than that though. You know that if you go back to hell Grim will have you gutted from your neck to your groin.’ The Slayer handed him that note and then continued. ‘So what’s making you decide Grim is the better option?’

Haine opened his mouth ready to protest the Slayer’s notes. Yet, he honestly wasn’t sure why fighting Grim bare handed sounded better than getting another sandwich handed to him. “I don’t know.” He looked down at his hands, his claws were getting long and sharp from lack of use.

The Slayer looked up at the seagull that finished eating the sandwich and was now looking down at them. This kid just didn’t make sense to him. It frustrated him and he wasn’t sure Crüe would be any better at getting him out of his shell. He saw a kid that was a lot like Crüe, yet Haine reminded him of himself more than he was willing to admit. He remembered being shoved awake on mars angry at everything. He basically hated everything that moved, and while he had some good reasons to be pissed at Samuel, he eventually discovered how to be a bit more human again and trust. ‘I know you don’t trust us, and you’re angry at this whole situation, but please let us help you out.’

Haine felt his anger snap inside him and he shouted right at the Slayer, “I don’t want another fucking sandwich! I’m sick of eating!” When he was done he had the look that he bit off more than he could chew. He let out a growl and turned away from the Slayer.

The man blinked a few times in confusion, he spoke, straining his voice and coughing a bit, “Oh… so it was about the sandwich…”

Haine felt guilty at his outburst and certainly didn’t want to be anything like Crüe’s yelling out bursts so he stopped and turned back. He also felt the need to explain himself to the man who was basically funding his existence on the ARC carrier, “Humans eat like birds, just a little bit all the time. I have always eaten a lot at one time. I feel like I have to do everything the human way and it pisses me off! I can’t even eat when I want.”

The Slayer knew right where Haine was coming from. Though he hated when people sat in misery and didn’t just explain what was wrong, “Then you have to talk.” He broke out in a fit of gasping coughs and rolled his eyes, the irony not lost on him. He wrote out a note, giving up and speaking, ‘If you don’t want a sandwich then speak up I’m not gonna read your mind. You’re just making life harder for yourself.’

Haine took the note and handed it back to him. “I know.” He rubbed his head, long claws brushing against his new horns. “I’m sorry.”

‘Whatever you're apologizing about I don’t want to hear it.’ The Slayer’s solemn face stared back at the kid’s. ‘It’s fine, you’re family now.’ His whole body and soul burned like fire writing that note and handing it over. It was like surrendering his whole identity of ferocious terrifying killer. He wrestled with the idea of what he thought about this kid, unsure and confused.

Haine gave him a nod in return, “What do we do when Crüe comes back?”

‘I’ll handle it.’

When he came scurrying back, sandwich in hand and another slushie for the Slayer. The Slayer merely told him Haine wasn’t hungry and Crüe wolfed down the new sandwich before the seagull could eat it.

There was an odd silence between the three of them. Crüe knew something had happened and was trying to read the Slayer mind while he drank down his second slushie. Haine started out at the ocean and occasionally glanced up at the bird, avoiding looking at the Slayer or Crüe.

All the marauder could do was replay what had happened and the words the Slayer had said on loop in his mind. Did the Slayer actually consider him to be family? It seemed like it was just something said in the heat of the moment yet the man held the proof right in his notebook. “So is that a bird? The seagull up there.”

Crüe spoke up, “I guess. Humans make documentaries about their wildlife; they have all sorts of birds.”

The Slayer nodded at it, “A bird means we’re close to land.”

Chapter 107: The Beach Episode II

Missy scurried through the undergrowth of the thick tropical forest after her mother. Her little gripping claws needed to grab every root, every leaf, every chunk of dirt as she ran just to keep up. Her little wings didn’t work, not quite yet. The whole day had been full of excitement for her. Mother dressed her up, putting two little black flower bracelets on both wrists and a black necklace looped round her neck.

Orca who was scurrying beside her was also wearing a little black bow on his neck as well.

Mother was donned in a black sash over her wings.

Crüe was also dressed in black.

The Slayer was too.

Oh...

Her scurrying claws slowed down as they approached a little grassy clearing. The Slayer slowly put down a shovel he had been carrying, resting the pointed tip in the dirt. Crüe was holding a shoebox that had been carefully arranged as the final resting place for Haru.

Digging was slow and painful, Missy was bored, but she felt her mothers looming gaze preemptively keep her in check. She remembered playing with the cat, mother told her it had died, but she had never witnessed death first hand like this. Death was something the Slayer would joke about, it wasn’t something that happened to their family.

Daisy looped a wing around her little ones and pulled them close as she watched Haru be lowered into the ground. She could see the agony on Crüe’s face, but the demon kept it together quite well. He had been mourning this moment for a whole week already, so he barely had any emotions left to pour out. His black shirt was sticking to his chest and he wanted nothing more than to get out of the humid forest. Yet he had never left Haru before in this way.

The Slayer walked off after covering the grave backup and arranging a few stones so it could be marked if they wanted to return. “We’ll head back, give you time.” He scooped up Missy and Orca and made the walk back, letting Crüe say his final goodbyes.

Missy liked riding on the Slayer’s broad shoulders, but she kept glancing back at Crüe. “Screeee?”

Daisy looked over her shoulder and responded with a variety of hoots and chirps, “Screeck.”

“Squeak?”

“Shriek.”

“Screee.”

“Screeek.”

The Slayer was amused by their conversation enough to finally interject, letting the shovel he brought drag behind him, making a divot in the trail. ‘I’ll have to work on making the nerds get the kids collars like yours.’ He pointed to Daisy.

She licked her nose as she read the note then nodded happily at that, “Orca still shy, but Missy strong like bull, very chatty. Missy tears faces off, yes.”

It took a bit of effort to walk back through the thick forest. Missy and Orca would struggle to scrabble over logs, flapping their still useless wings frantically to try and gain any little bit of boost to hoist themselves over. The Slayer took to swinging the shovel underneath them as they hung off the logs, giving them a little platform to jump onto. It was a basic job that was consistent as they hiked through the woods and it made him feel like he was being useful. It was the perfect combination to try and scrub the pain of losing Haru from his mind.

He would never admit to the marauder that he had absentmindedly filled up his bowl on the floor today and sat there holding the bag for a moment wondering why the little cat wasn’t bounding over to eat. He dumped the food back into the bag and shoved the bowl under the sink before the marauder came out, dressed in black.

It shouldn’t really be a surprise that the Slayer didn’t handle the death of an animal, or pet, well. Getting angry and using that rage to fight was practically his whole personality. Images of the companions he had lost flashed through his head, he snapped out of it when Orca needed another boost over a log.

They all heard the crunching and snapping of twigs behind them and whirled around to see Crüe following them, “Hey. I figured I’d catch up.” He wiped some tears and sweat off his face. Sure his heart ached for that cat, but hell… he didn’t know how many more tears he could cry. It honestly felt good that Haru was finally at rest, maybe in some way. Sentinel wolves were meant to guide their friends into battle and more importantly guide them back home. Maybe that’s why he had felt so lost.

They walked back chatting and talking, bringing up some of Haru’s greatest triumphs.

As Crüe stepped out of the deep thick forest and onto a beach, the ARC carrier was visible. It was docked at a fancy extensive military base on the island, one that had weathered the invasion quite well. Metal and concrete rose up out of the wilderness, looking out of place.

Devo and Haine were combing the beach, looking even more out of place than the concrete and steel. In the Slayer’s eyes they loomed over the idyllic paradise, their horns towering up and blocking out the sun, but he shoved his conceptions aside and watched them. Haine was holding an armful of shells while Devo ran around excitedly picking up every little chip of seashell he could find. Haine waved at them, dropping a shell.

It was a bit tense, how could it not be? Devo and Haine kidnapped Crüe, directly leading to the death of his wolf at the hands of Grim. At least Grim was now all of their common enemy, including the Slayer who happily dreamed about how he would flay the archvile when he got his hands on him.

Crüe wiped at his eyes hoping he didn’t look like he had been crying on and off for days, “I’ll meet up with you guys in a bit.”

They went back and changed out of their black colors and into light blues and oranges of swimming shorts and towels with stupid colors on them and returned to the beach.

Elena caught them on their way out in a crowd of people, walking alongside them, “Once we refuel, get the supplies on the ship, fix some small issues with repairs, and whatever fuckin else they add to my to do list, we’ll be ready to send you two to hell.”

The Slayer wrapped his arm around her shoulder, pulling her aside, “Wanted to talk. Are you ok?”

“I’m better than I was before.” She still felt the aching hole in her heart where he should have been, but life was moving forwards and she’d be left behind if she didn’t catch up. “Would I be able to tag along on your little adventure?” She motioned to their beach clothing.

“Hell yeah, we’d love to have you.” Crüe gave her a solemn yet excited little nod, his mind flashing back to lowering Haru into the grave every time he looked down.

An hour later they found a nice secluded spot on the beach. It really wasn’t that secluded, but at least they couldn’t see the hulking metal carrier in the harbor. Daisy and her kids were running around the beach, hauling ass like a bat out of hell. Devo was still collecting seashells and other little trinkets he found in the sand, but Haine had told him off a while ago and now Devo kept returning to an ever growing pile of shells to drop off his finds. Haine, Crüe, the Slayer, and Elena all sat on a few beach towels under the palm trees, staring at the clouds and the warm rays of sun shining down on them.

“Haine, are you enjoying the human world, it has to be a little bit better than hell, right?” Elena pulled out a pack of cigarettes and lit one up, exhaling as if the weight of the world was finally lifted off her shoulders.

The demon had been quite preoccupied with digging a little hole, right off to the side of the beach towel, and watching some crabs trying to crawl out of it. He shrugged, not interested very much at the horrifically scarred lady who randomly tagged along. “Yeah it’s cool.” He didn’t take his eyes off the pit of little sand crabs.

Elena tapped his shoulder, offering him a cigarette, “Here would this cheer you up?”

He actually looked over and grabbed it between two fingers, happily snatching her lighter as well and lighting up. He didn’t smoke too much, packs were expensive in the blood swamps on account of how often shipments would be lost in deep bacteria infested stagnant sinkholes. When he did smoke however, he loved the taste of it and the way it burnt his lungs just like hell fire. “I miss hell a lot.” He admitted to her. He looked over at Crüe and the Slayer who were chatting on a beach towel a little ways away. “I think when I get the chance… I want to go home.” He was much less confident about that than he was a few days ago.

Elena glanced over at the two newlyweds. She took a long deep draw on her cigarette. Numbing the pain of seeing two lovers so happy. She wasn’t jealous, it was deeper than that, almost curling into a rage at Samuel’s unnecessary death. The password ‘1234’ was seared into her vision everytime she shut her eyes, she was the one who typed it, all over something so stupid. She slowly continued the conversation, “I understand. I suppose that’s all you’ve ever known. Bell hasn’t sent a message yet but you’ll be the first to know once she does.” She looked down at the little crabs scurrying about, “Have you ever tried seafood?”

They chatted about that while Crüe and the Slayer were commenting on how Devo simply must have OCD the way he collected and sorted shells.

“You diagnose him as if you don’t have OCD the way you clean your armor!” Crüe laughed.

The Slayer didn’t waste any words on arguing and punched the demon in the arm and made some vague hand motions.

The marauder stood up and walked over to Devo, baffled by the demon’s behavior, “What the hell are you doing?”

The marauder paused his frantic scurrying and held up a beautiful chunk of shell. It was iridescent in the sunlight in every hue of purple, blue, and green imaginable. “Look how pretty! They don’t have these in hell! It’s like a jewel!”

Crüe waved the Slayer over and the man seemed unimpressed with the chunk of shell about the size of a finger. “Tiny.”

Devo got defensive, “Well it’s the biggest one I’ve found!”

The Slayer tried to explain what a shell was to Devo and Crüe but he wasn’t quite getting it right with hand motions and he wasn’t wasting his voice on something stupid. “Here.” He walked away from the combed over beach and went over to the water's edge, feeling the waves lap at his feet. He waited until they pulled back, the sand bare to the sky and rushed down, spotting a small conch shell twisting in the frothy waves. He grabbed it just before the next wave hit, splashing him and getting his swim shorts wet. He strode out of the water holding the shell and handed it to Devo.

The marauder twisted it around in his hand admiring the rough outside and the shiny mother of pearl interior. “Holy fuck.” He copied what the Slayer did and was now hunting for larger shells in the water.

“Did you grow up by a beach?” Elena asked him, as he walked back.

He shook his head.

“Just vacations then?”

He nodded.

“Me and Haine were talking and we think we should go eat seafood tonight.” Elena clapped her hands together happily, “Does that sound good? It would be ARC’s treat for you all.”

Crüe seemed confused, “Seafood?”

Haine held up one of the tiny sand crabs, “Like these crab things and fish. The things that make shells too?” He questioned Elena.

“Yes, clams!” She answered happily, glad to get the marauder talking.

“Well those don’t seem very filling.” Crüe motioned to the tiny sand covered crab Haine held. “…or appetizing.”

“Well the ones you eat are bigger.” Haine huffed out as if he had been an expert on seafood his entire life and hadn’t just learnt about it from Elena ten seconds ago.

The Slayer sat back listening to Haine and Crüe try to understand seafood and thought it was quite amusing. They were both so out of their element and as they went along they had convinced themselves of some ridiculous things. They thought crabs were big enough that their meat would be in cuts like a steak, and that you’d have to catch the food yourself. Elena was trying to explain that sometimes it can be hard to get the meat out and Crüe asked if he should bring his armor or a weapon and Elena about pissed herself laughing.

The Slayer heard a chirp and turned around to see Daisy's kiddos had made themselves a little sand castle, well it was more like a sand igloo. Daisy was supervising them but when she noticed the Slayer glancing over she scurried over to him and rested her head against him. He petted her and smiled at the weird little creature he called his friend. “Good girl, Daisy.”

In less than an hour they packed up their towels and Devo’s shell collection and went to the restaurant inside the base. They got a table tucked away in a corner away from the chaos of the main floor and feasted. The Slayer hadn’t eaten food this rich in actual eons, not to mention it was all relatively soft and warm which helped soothe his throat.

Crüe, Devo, Elena, Daisy, Missy, and Orca chowed down happily talking and yapping about any and everything. While the Slayer was making sure Missy and Orca weren’t going to dive headfirst into the bowl of melted butter on the table, he was focused on Haine. When the kid looked over at him he gave him a little nod and a thumbs up.

The gesture was returned and the kid continued eating.

He supposed this was the way Haine ate in hell, large meals, friends, and good conversation. He could understand why he would miss it. He focused on his meal and listened to the comradery around him. His burns had been healing, his voice was marginally better, Haru was buried, Samuel’s robot body had been placed into storage, and despite everything his family endured.

Notes:

I saw Doom: The Dark Ages got an update but I'm already up to my ass in work a few days into the semester. I'll be so amped when I finally get to play it. I plan on trying to get on some kind of schedule and having another update for this around September 19th.

Your pal,
CornFlake