Teeth, flesh, and metal.
It was a combination that became his bread and butter. Killing demons? That was his morning coffee ritual. Depending on how many came at him at a time, he could consider it dinner prep, even.
He had been knee-deep in bloody guts for a while now since entering Titan's Realm, sprinting tirelessly through waves of gore and enemies. Pressing hard on the Heavy Assault Rifle's trigger, the Slayer had a feeling this fight would be his last. His battle against Olivia Pierce... or whatever was left of the woman whom hell turned into; perchance; one of the ugliest of its spawn he laid eyes on yet.
Smoking bullet shells splattered into the wet floor under him as he moved swiftly around the enormous spider, dodging lasers and projectiles, firing all the while. His reserves were running low. Constant blasting at an enemy of this size usually did that, unfortunately.
Yet a consistent stream of plasma in the creature's direction and some super shotgun shells later, the spider lilted; a wet, distressed hiss spraying blood and saliva into the air as it collapsed.
The Slayer wasted no time. Finally staggering the demon, he hefted out the BFG, carrying it in the direction of its mushy brain with an air of menace.
The massive demon could do nothing but quiver in half-death, half-fear as he closed the distance. It made to shriek, but the Slayer grasped it violently by the mandibles and shoved the thick barrel of the gun against it, snuffing out its chance to. Green energy danced directly before the demon's eyes, crackling and sparking in preparation to vaporise it.
The last thing the Spider Mastermind saw before death was the dark, blood-streaked glower of a man out for blood... for the ruthless purge of demons.
It squawked out in desperation but was met with a devastating final blow; the blast from the BFG melting through its huge brain like hot iron through butter, atomising its grisly mug in the process.
The Slayer stepped back to take a look at his work, feeling a tad proud of the end result: steaming demon brains.
But he wanted more. He could feel it in his veins. The urge to exterminate; a burning, unquenchable rage for the damned.
He swapped out the massive BFG for his super shotgun and made to blast through the dark confines of the spider's abode... or at least that was his plan until he noticed his suit aglow.
It was an ethereal blue light that in the next second consumed his sight, and the Slayer could feel his body traveling through space and time before he came to a room. A room he instantly recognised by the dim, impeccable steely interior. The UAC. And through the fog, appeared Samuel Hayden.
'It's over. You've stopped the invasion and closed the portal, but it's come at a price,' he said to the Slayer, watching through the glowing slit in his head as the latter struggled to move. 'Argent... Vega... this entire operation. You see, I've watched you work; come to understand your motivation.
'You think the only way is to kill them all, leave nothing behind... and you may be right. But we can't just shut it all down. Without argent energy, it will be worse. I don't expect you to agree...'
He paused and reached out with his long, steel fingers; the Crucible at the Slayer's side trembling at the gesture. It tore away from him suddenly and into Dr. Hayden's grasp, burning like red fire as he inspected the relic.
'... But with this, we can continue our work.'
Though the Slayer showed incapability of speaking and his visor masked any semblance of emotion in the man, Samuel Hayden would have been lying if he said he didn't feel a burning fury and resentment emanate from his trapped figure. The Slayer fought to move; to break out of whatever held him prisoner; and seeing him fight it so tenaciously incited a streak of fear through the man-made-robot.
'I am not the villain in this story,' he reasoned, clutching the Crucible tighter in desperation and fear. 'I do what I do because there is no choice.'
The Slayer's trembling fists said otherwise. Given the chance, the doctor knew he wouldn't hesitate to leap out for him, and... he'd rather not think of what would happen next.
'Re-routing tether coordinates... complete,' a feminine, robotic voice announced over them; Dr. Hayden following its direction with a glance.
Arms out beside him, he said curtly to the Slayer, 'Our time is up. I can't kill you... but I won't have you standing in our way.'
The Crucible unraveled in his clutches; a long, thick blade of argent energy crackling and dazzling to life as he held it beside him. Turning, the doctor's last words were, 'Until we see each other again.'
The Slayer would rather be gnawed on by demons than stop the treacherous doctor, but no amount of wrath and rage could break him free of his prison. He could only watch on helplessly as Samuel Hayden walked away, and with one final burst of blue energy, the Slayer found his mind and body trapped once more in a rift beyond his control.
It felt like his very existence was being torn asunder, stretching him through dimensions. If so, Samuel Hayden surely knew where to take him. To the furthest end of the world because if the Slayer had any chance of finding him again - and that, he would - he'd have heaven and hell to pay for.
Somewhere along the line the Slayer lost all sense of time and direction. His consciousness was quick to follow, and darkness swallowed him whole.
When he awoke, it was... to the squeals of pinkies. He'd have to be dead not to make out the sound from a mile away.
His eyes snapped open and he reached for his shotgun, taking quick and steady aim, blasting at the closest thing head-on.
... At least, that was his first and most natural response to the threat. But there was a problem. A big one. He could scarcely open his eyes. His eyelids felt like heavyweights under the sinister squealing and cooing of pinkies.
Was he trapped? ... And more importantly, cooing? From the huge, smelly maws of a pinkie?
Something was amiss. Something felt terribly, terribly wrong. He couldn't move. He couldn't see. And when he concentrated hard enough, he could feel something like a soft blanket against his skin-bare skin!?
The situation was looking bleak more than it was outright perilous. No suit, no mobility, no visibility, and pinkies. What a splendid combination.
The minutes turned into hours; the hours into days as the Slayer fought against these odds, every so often even falling asleep despite the situation. Which was odd in itself, considering the Slayer had no need for such thorough rest. The Praetor Suit; paired with argent energy; provided his body with ample energy and took care of all basic human needs so he could rip and tear uninterrupted. So it was telling that without it, he felt like a baby all over again. Resting, barely moving...
Wait a minute.
The Slayer opened his eyes. For what felt like the first time in his life he saw light. Besides that, he saw not pinkies, but... humans.
And that was truly a first in what felt like - he could only assume - ages. But they didn't look like what he remembered. They seemed larger than him, taller than him, and their faces peered down into a tight space he quickly realised barred him in.
Trapped yet again. The thought came with the fierce recollection of precisely how he'd arrived here. The Spider Mastermind. The Crucible. Samuel Hayden. Why, the moment he saw that sorry android's metal face again, he'd...
'Aw, don't cry again, young master!'
'Goodness, it can't possibly be time for his feed!'
'The young master stirs far too often. Should we suggest a physician to Her Ladyship?'
Large hands descended into the prison and the Slayer was helpless against them. They lifted him from under the arms and into the warm cradle of a woman he didn't recognise. One that swayed, cooed, and coddled him as he demanded answers and to be put down, red in the face and ready to combust by this madness upon him.
'How cute!' one of them sighed wistfully at the seething Slayer. 'He's only three days old, and yet the young master appears ready to bark orders!'
The ladies exhaled longingly in unison at the thought, all staring at the Slayer with tender faces. Faces that quickly turned blank the instant it dawned on him that he wasn't sent just anywhere by Samuel Hayden. In a shock and horror not even the great Hellwalker could comprehend, the realisation hit him like a thousand Icons of Sin...
He got sent to another life. And he was a baby.
A/N: Hey everyone! I know, I know, it's been ages. But finally I got the courage to get up and just write out a new fic idea. This one is posted on Wattpad as well which is pretty far ahead, but I've been wanting to post it here too 😊 Please enjoy and review!