a/n: thank you to pacificprincess20. I'm in a "Doom" mood this week. This fic is dedicated to you. Sorry it's more John-centric, and action-oriented. More sister/brother installment later.

#22 – Jealousy

"These demons, or whatever they are, they were once humans: full of jealousy, hatred, pride, and self loathing," he said to her, but she assured him that whatever happened to him, he would not turn out to be one of them.

xx

Click Click Boom!

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First, he had to find his assault rifle. Spotting it against one of the containment freezers, he strode over and swept it up, finding the v-stock with the telescope intact. A distant repeated banging right outside the double metal doors was heard. John's hearing could pick up various noises: grueling sounds of garbled teeth gnashing and screams, of human and other, still echoing the halls. He looked around, searching for another weapon. Among the overturned metal tables and chairs, half broken glass beakers, and lean monitors face down on the floor, there was the sub-machine gun; this wasn't going to be effective against the Sarge, but the violence outside made the blood thunder against his ear.

In the semi-darkness, switching between the shots of light pooling the floor, desks, glass covered cabinets, the computer's monitor created glitches of static, he spotted a mirror – cracked, and fallen from the walled in grey-coloured patch above the sink. For a moment, he considered to blur everything out, setting the weapons close by. The muscles in his body tensed, then stretched as if the directive kept the thrill of his renewed blood searing.

Approaching the mirror in the porcelain basin, curiosity and his consciousness teetered on the brink of a blunt sword, testing his resolve. John's fingertips were covered in dried blood and grime, and as his fingers steadied to place the cracked surface before him, he reached with his other hand to touch his face. Between the jagged lines, he could see his appearance, none the worse for wear, taking in the surprised green eyes beneath the lifted dark brows; the smear of blood; dark tousled hair dry in places, and sticky where the rest of someone's or something's blood clung.

He was immediately reverted back to reality with the sound of a gunshot and a scream. Goddamn. He had to hurry, kill these fuckers and find Sam. He hoped she was preparing a way for them to get the hell out of here.

Quickly, he placed the mirror back, and shoulder holstered his assault rifle.

By the entrance, John fisted his hand and slammed the blinking panel on the side, opening the double doors; and from this vantage point, beneath the archway, he glanced up: the upper floors with support railings ran a path towards a darkened opening. On the metal floorings, there sliding and clinging to the poles and walls were splatters of blood, dried and black, exposed to the confines of limited oxygen.

Visually, everything seemed to move in a slow motion action, then as the violent noises approached, his training alerted his senses. The first he saw was something that used to be human, with arms up, flailing and howling underneath one of the darkened halls from his left. Reaper had turned, sliding into the action with deadly precision, pounding the unrecognizable creature with ammo. Fluid, sticky and foul spurted out of the holes and left the enemy dead on the floor.

Upon moving to the next hall, darkly lit, with flashing fluorescence lights from above him, a pinkish movement to his right from another dark corner brought his rifle up against another foe – and the round of ammunition brought on a parade of firecracker flashes. The body was shot full of holes, dissolving into smoke and noise, sizzling through the holes between the metal gratings. When he reached the short flight of stairs, his combat boots black with both dirt and darkened blood, made a noisy warning, and he was almost caught unaware as a large looming creature dropped behind him.

John's body was slammed against metal pipes that held the upper floors, and the long thick arms of the offender almost had the upper hand. Reaper brought his boot into the folds of what would be considered a stomach, simultaneously blowing the creature's head away with a shove of his rifle's open end. Bits and pieces of pinkly flesh hit the walls with a sickening thud, and he was left to move on again, his steps quickened.

He stepped away from the hallways and into the opening where the circular flooring greeted him; and there underneath the light from above, haloing and spreading out to shove shadows away from each corner, the middle of the marbled floor, strangely pristine and open - confronted him. In the opposite direction of where he came from, the noises of more screams greeted him. He wondered what had happened to Sarge, and why was his senses telling him that the howl was that of his comrade? It was threatening, demanding a challenge. By the sides of the large room where he was at, the windows on the far end revealed nothing but artificial light. Already with blown off circuits and powered by a generator somewhere. John walked ahead, until his senses heard a gargled noise from behind the tall circular desk.

Reaper's lip curled down into a verdant, slow-motion frown, his body leaned automatically towards the threat. In an effort to contain his surprise, he steeled his mind to focus: what he saw, as his body backed slowly away, was an obese disfigurement, surprisingly agile for its size. The end of its bloating body attached to the metallic wheel and rubber. John grimaced. He moved to the side as the manifestation of what he thought was once someone he knew – moved to where he was at. Like the overfed seals that lazily sat on black-tipped rocks under the sun, the obscene mouth opened to reveal rows of sharp teeth, and biting down to gnash and tear something imaginary inside.

Without hesitating any further, John emptied out more ammo, shooting into the area where the offensive mammal jumped, but had not been able to hit its mark. Agile and strength must have given this former human the ability to have a form of courage. He was knocked back with a blow to the side as the slippery large object slammed him. Losing consciousness, on the brink of madness and sanity, John's eyes flashed back to his sister, and her voice was soothing, reaching.

John! John, live, you must live!

"Sam?" He mouthed; his voice seemed foreign in his ears, the noise pounding in his head. The creature had slithered away; perhaps it had thought him dead, perhaps searched only for a living sane human. The lights above him started to blink and sway, sparks of short circuiting threatened to consume the room in the dark.

"Sam!" Calling out again, in hopes that if he heard her voice again he'd find the will to bring his senses back. The pounding in his head persisted, and the sound of the distant threat was coming in close. He knew his weapon, where it now lay, meters away was not going to destroy this thing. He moved slowly, jerking his muscles awake, paying close attention to where the gushes of wet noise steadily stayed. Near crawling, John pulled himself up, his eyes focused, and senses now alert.

By some sheer luck, the light from above started to cave in, as if the complex was falling apart by some invisible tremor, dropping below and crashing. The lengthy rectangular construct which held multi fluorescent bulbs broke in half, popping off shards of plastic and sparks, some broken and shattered corms bounced off the marbled ground. Because of this, he could spot a razor sharp weapon that was hidden underneath one of the dropped chairs. Now it glowed from the residual lights and the noise from the heavy breathing creature still remained where it was. Used to the noise of the falling equipment and debris. Yet, as if it heralded the thunder, the lightning flashes brought a real tremor; it sounded heavy with a shove, moving the structure of the large facility, the ground slid sideways. John steadied himself, his palm flat against the wall and his legs planted firmly in the ground, heaving his body firmly down with concentration until the shoving of the quake slowed.

He gritted his teeth, and flew towards the weapon, his legs taking him there faster than normal.

From this movement, the creature swiftly shifted its body to the mixture of sounds. And opened its large mouth wide to give threat, waddled its jiggled body fast to John.