A bit of fanfic

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Demogorgon
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A bit of fanfic

Post by Demogorgon » Sat Feb 21, 2009 02:33 pm

Y helo thar. This is my very first post on here so let me first introduce myself. I am Demogorgon, and I find Blood to be one of the greatest games ever made. And then to think that I only ever played the shareware version :')
The atmosphere, the gore and the cheesy sarcastic comments. Ah nostalgia.
I'm really psyched about the Transfusion project! If I had any useful skills I would have offered them to this project. But I don't, so I can't xD

Anyway, I wrote a bit of fanfiction. Somewhere on this forum I read a topic that encouraged people to write a halloween-themed story about Blood. This prompted me to write a short story myself. But since my story isn't anything Halloween-ey I decided to post it here.

Now, a side note about the story itself. I know the original Blood story line didn't have anything to do with Satan vs. God, but it's a theme everybody is familiar with. Therefore it's an excellent backdrop for a short story like this one. Also, Blood is mainly about gore, so it doesn't really matter anyway, I reckon :twisted:

I wrote the story mainly for your amusement, but constructive criticism is always appreciated:P Now, for the story:
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Demogorgon
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Post by Demogorgon » Sat Feb 21, 2009 02:35 pm

For many centuries there had been a cathedral atop a large hill not far outside the city of Marpolis. The hill itself had been a holy spot for longer than any living man could recall, used as a place of worship by all religions that had come and gone over time. Now, it served as the home of a monastery of a order of monks. And on the highest possible location, a cathedral had been built.
The cathedral was the greatest of its days. The greatest of masons had worked on it, no effort or resource had been spared to build this house of God. But now, after all these centuries of its presence, it was about to be defiled in a single night.
As a light drizzle fell from the cloudy night sky, a bright flash of lightning lit up the cathedral. Even before thunder could follow, the actual storm was still far away, a dark figure reached the summit of the cathedral’s tower.
Grasping the golden cross that ornamented its peak, Caleb looked down upon Marpolis. They’d be in for a surprise in the morning.
While rough winds lashed and pulled at him, Caleb attached a rope to the base of the cross.
While he did this, making sure the knot was fit for its coming task, he went over his mission in his head once more. The monks that were attending the mass held in this very cathedral had thrown their lot in with the devil, Caleb’s new ‘employee’, wanting demons to cavort with and exotic pleasures to indulge, but after a while one of them had started thinking, and managed to convince the rest: they had betrayed their precious God, and would burn in hell for all eternity for this terrifying sin. Suddenly scared s***, the monks entered a frenzy of flagellantation, bloody atonement and intense repentance.
Upon receiving this news, the devil was disgruntled to say the least, and swore that he would not be denied that which was his. Had these souls been regular humans, he could have cared less, for there were hundreds of others to take their place in hell. However, wayward servants of God were a lot harder to find. Their screams sounded so much sweeter to him than regular ones, and he took great pleasure in hearing them pleading and begging to God to release them from Hell after all, for he knew that God did not even hear them, let alone pay attention to their pathetic voices.
So, to make sure that the monks in question here went to Hell before they could reconcile themselves with God, Caleb was sent to ‘hasten up’ their demise a little. Which basically came down to just killing them all.
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Post by Demogorgon » Sat Feb 21, 2009 02:37 pm

Once certain that the rope was secure, he threw the other end down the front of the cathedral. He gripped the rope tightly with one hand, and held his tommygun in the other. He could have just blasted his way through the front entrance, which had been barricaded for the exact purpose of keeping servants of the devil out, but Caleb had wanted to spice things up a little, hence the decision of entering through the grand mosaic window which was supposed to be greeted by the sunrise each morning. Now it would be greeted by Caleb’s feet.
Though Caleb did enjoy the occasional mass-murder-kill-fest, this had been the third in a row, so doing things the straightforward way was becoming a bit too boring. Plus, he had too keep his wits sharp.
Caleb lowered himself to the edge of the cathedral tower’s roof, and prepared to thrust himself from it. As he did this, he couldn’t help grinning and remarking, “Hallelujah, treacherous bastards.”
With his legs, he pushed himself from the roof’s edge, leaping into the dark air. For a moment, all seemed still. No sound, no movement, he himself weighed nothing. But then Caleb grasped the rope tight, tensing it, and as a result stopping his momentum outward. This threw him towards the great window, which, ironically, depicted a martyr bleeding at the hands of Satan’s servants.
As he was nearly upon the glass, Caleb thrust his legs forward. This extra punch, combined with his already considerable momentum granted by gravity, allowed him to burst through the glass. For a split second Caleb was surrounded by a nimbus of coloured glass and light rays reflecting from it, but this quickly disappeared to reveal the shocked faces of dozens of monks. As he nimbly landed on top of a great organ and took aim with his gun, he yelled “Surprise!”.
The morbid horror that could be seen on the faces of these fallen men of God soon made place for outright terror as they scrambled to escape the hail of bullets fired by Caleb’s tommygun.
The pathetic attempts of many of them were in vain, for the majority were torn apart by the bullets which Caleb relentlessly pumped into their mortal shells. Men were ripped to pieces and blown to bits by the sheer fury of the gun, and also the benches on which they had been sitting were quickly destroyed as circumstantial casualties. The red-hot shell casings that were ejected from the tommygun gave a continuous ringing as one after the other hit the ground.
But after several minutes of ceaseless firing, the muzzle-flash and firing-thunder made way for a quick succession of clicks. “Empty” muttered Caleb.
He was annoyed. Though he had only brought a single drum-magazine of bullets on purpose, figuring he didn’t need any more, he cursed himself for not bringing more. He had been right in his assumption, most monks now lay either dead or dying, and this wasn’t even the problem. He just liked the sulphurous smell and obnoxious noise the tommygun emitted when used so enthusiastically.
But it didn’t matter, his job was nearly over anyway. He dropped the gun and pulled his dual revolvers from their holsters. As he jumped from the organ and landed among the bloody carnage he had caused, he felt that very same satisfaction he always got from scenes of this nature. Still warm and bleeding bodies lay smeared across the floor, severed body parts scattered among them and even the ragged breathing of those that still lived for a few minutes could be heard among it all.
Caleb stepped through all this, feeling his boots sink away in the flesh of the deceased, putting bullets through the heads of any survivors. Not all monks were dead or even wounded, however. Some had managed to reach and hide behind thick pillars before Caleb’s hail of bullets had managed to touch them. Some were whimpering in fear, muttering useless prayers to a god which did not hear them, these were easily dispatched with a bullet between their eyes. Some, however, where a tad less cowardly, and had taken to arm themselves with whatever was at hand. Such as shattered pieces of wood given the function of stakes, iron candleholders used as clubs or lances, and even bare fists.
None were a match for Caleb though, who shot them all with contempt. As he felt that his task was done, he turned to a great cross, carrying Jesus the Deceiver, which was suspended from the high cathedral ceiling by means of thick chains.
“Well now, my impotent friend” Caleb yelled at it “Aren’t you glad to be rid of these wretches! I would have been annoyed to the core to hear them pleading to me over and over again if I were you. Personally, I don’t really understand why Satan wanted these monks dead so soon, doing you a favour and all.” He shrugged “But hey, who am I to question his judgement?” As he approached Jesus’ image, Caleb felt a growing urge to desecrate it. And, since restraint had never been one of Caleb’s virtues, he indulged in it.
First, he blasted its head apart with a well placed bullet. After that, he severed Jesus’ arm with another one, breaking the cross’ left arm as well. This resulted in the cross’ suspension from the single right chain, hanging it diagonally.
Now Caleb got fired up good, and started shooting at all images and statues of saints and other holy people, until cries of agony interrupted him.
“No, no, no! Stop it, stop it!” cried a person, stumbling from behind the organ. Judging from his attire and age, this had to be the monastery’s abbot.
Holding a cross in front of him, he continued “Stop this sacrilege! Your Satan will not have us! You are too late, demon! God has already absolved our souls!”
“If that’s what you think” Caleb grinned to him while he took aim with his revolver “You’re all in for a big surprise”
Click
Caleb cursed. He had recently switched his trusty six-shot revolvers for eight-shot ones. Since he had done this, he felt like he had a lot more ammo to spend without reloading them. This had relieved him from the urge of keeping track of the amount of shots he had fired, which had been a neurotic habit of his with his six-shots.
Irritated he pointed his other revolver at the abbot, and pulled the trigger.
Click
“What the...”
“You see! It’s a sign of God himself!” the abbot cried hysterically. “Your effort has been in vain! The devil will not have us!”
“No” growled Caleb, annoyed “It’s a sign of my guns, saying ‘You’ve spend all your bullets, they’re all snugly lodged in the skulls of the faithful’. Your only God is Satan, and he demands you souls.”
With this, he pulled a dagger from his belt, and planted it between the abbot’s ribs.
As the abbot spewed up blood, and his breathing became harder and harder, Caleb watched the life leave his eyes.
After having given the dagger an extra twist, provoking a fit of convulsions from the corpse, he pulled it out.
Content, Caleb walked towards the cathedral’s entrance, pulling a stick of dynamite from his pocket to blow through the barricades.
Satan would be pleased.
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Demogorgon
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Post by Demogorgon » Sat Feb 21, 2009 02:38 pm

Sorry about posting it in two parts :roll:

I hope you liked it:)
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Tchernobog
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Post by Tchernobog » Tue Feb 24, 2009 03:01 am

Nice work Demogorgon, short, bloody, and well written...

You can find your work listed here:
http://blood.wiki-site.com/index.php/Li ... _of_Fanfic
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