Slay the Hierarchy

The Engagement Pt. III

Grunting in frustration, the Doom Slayer swapped out the larger weapon for the Plasma Rifle and fired freely; the blue bursts of energy scarcely finding its mark as the creature curled and coiled to dodge it, all the while making its hasty approach. Up close, it was one ugly son of a moon. Not that all demons weren't, though, but it had longer teeth than most, a face far more mangled than most, and reached a staggering height when it stood to attack.

A grating knell tore from its throat as it lashed at the Slayer with charred arms, slinging toothy chains that added to the ever-growing collection of battle scars on the Praetor Suit. It was a minor price to pay for getting the thing close enough. Because the Slayer squeezed and held the trigger for a moment before letting go; a burst of fatal energy blowing flesh and steel off of the demon point blank, staggering it instantly.

The Doom Slayer grasped it by the horns before thrusting the Doomblade through its mouth, decorating the floor with its teeth. Dropping it to the sand, he turned in time to catch sight of the keen static of energy, glaring at another Hell Knight. 

Only, this one was far more cybernetic than its predecessors; the glowing orange tubes and metal plates decorating its body proof of that.

It roared, exposing a line of sharp steel for teeth as it leapt straight for him, and the Slayer reached for the Super Shotgun from his back, firing at such close range that it blew shrapnel off of the thing's shiny new head.

Marine-in-training, huh? He left the Mars UAC facility in his prime. An eighteen-year-old's body just wasn't going to cut it if Hell had more in store for him.

He needed to get stronger, faster, better if he had any chance of returning to some semblance of what he used to be. The thought alone was enough rage to fuel his skirmish against the demons that night. The Slayer firing at will at any and all who dared to challenge him, leaving his mark in bloody pools everywhere he went no matter the size.

Unbeknownst to him, a pair of deep red eyes witnessed the massacre. Eyes that slunk into the darkness, vanishing as quickly as they appeared.

Daisy wished she could forget it. She really wished she could go her entire life without having seeing it, but the floating red ball was too notable to forget no matter how hard she tried.

You know what else she wished she could forget? That there was a child following her all the way back to it. An annoying child at that.

'I hate spiders,' the boy muttered behind her as Daisy concentrated hard on moving back out of the study hallway. 'You know what I also hate? Knights. They're useless when you actually need them. But that green one--that one--I want him.'

Peeking out the corner and into the ballroom again, the princess stopped; the boy almost walking into her. That didn't stop him from stepping on her dress, though.

'What?' he spat, throwing her an annoyed look. 'Why did you...'

'What's your name?'

'You have an awful memory, woman. You stand before the royal crown prince, Timothy von Wolff.'

Daisy turned; her eyes hard as she snatched the boy by the collar and he squeaked like a rat.

'Now you listen to me, Timmy,' she hissed, effectively stilling him. 'Keep talking and I won't hesitate to turn you into demon dinner.'

Before Timothy could have asked, she yanked him closer to the wall and he trembled at the evidence before him. Because not only was the floating pink monster chewing on its fifth helping of knights, but there were more levitating... devices. Two glowing skulls that illuminated the marble walls with their ethereal, cerulean flames. Was it fire? Or energy? And what kind of skull was that big!?