Just thought I'd start a little fiction thread, for people to share their own exciting tales. If there can be a Poetic thread, there can be a fictional thread...
The stories are copyright to the author who posted it, unless otherwise stated, and are not to be used elsewhere without the express permission of the author.
Fiction
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Dr. Shadowborg
- InsideQC Staff
- Posts: 1120
- Joined: Sat Oct 16, 2004 3:34 pm
I figured Quake-related fiction would be cool, so here you go.
:roll:
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You step slowly out of the slipgate you have just teleported through and into what seems to be a deserted slipgate complex. Still, you could not be sure it’s really deserted, so you tightly grip your shotgun in hand. Bright fluorescent lights shine upon you from above, yellow lights flicker on and off to your right, and a door stands at the far end of the room to the left. You walk forward, shotgun ready, towards the door.
As you approach, the door jerks open to reveal a small room, and inside, a grim looking man, holding a shotgun. You leap back the way you came as he pulls up his weapon and fires. A loud shot echoes throughout the area. You turn around and pull the trigger. He falls, but stands up again. You walk closer and you blow him away. He groans and falls to the ground with a thud. You take the shells from his pack and move into the room. A red button stands in front of you, apparently to activate the lift. You reload your weapon and push the button. It turns green and the lift suddenly activates, moving downward.
The lift reaches the bottom and you step off to see a stream, with a bridge over it. Stone surrounds you, and metal, man-made objects protrude from it. On the other side of the bridge is another man with a shotgun, and a snarling guard dog. The man raises his shotgun and fires, but misses as the dog starts barking. The dog charges across the bridge as the soldier continues missing. It leaps at you, only to have a bunch of buckshot blow through its brains. It falls to the ground, and you run across the bridge, firing your shotgun. The soldier is quickly down, and you take his ammunition. A door, not unlike the last one, stands before you on that side of the bridge, bright yellow light shining on it from the nearby lights.
You reload your shotgun and step forward.
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Familiar?
:roll:
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You step slowly out of the slipgate you have just teleported through and into what seems to be a deserted slipgate complex. Still, you could not be sure it’s really deserted, so you tightly grip your shotgun in hand. Bright fluorescent lights shine upon you from above, yellow lights flicker on and off to your right, and a door stands at the far end of the room to the left. You walk forward, shotgun ready, towards the door.
As you approach, the door jerks open to reveal a small room, and inside, a grim looking man, holding a shotgun. You leap back the way you came as he pulls up his weapon and fires. A loud shot echoes throughout the area. You turn around and pull the trigger. He falls, but stands up again. You walk closer and you blow him away. He groans and falls to the ground with a thud. You take the shells from his pack and move into the room. A red button stands in front of you, apparently to activate the lift. You reload your weapon and push the button. It turns green and the lift suddenly activates, moving downward.
The lift reaches the bottom and you step off to see a stream, with a bridge over it. Stone surrounds you, and metal, man-made objects protrude from it. On the other side of the bridge is another man with a shotgun, and a snarling guard dog. The man raises his shotgun and fires, but misses as the dog starts barking. The dog charges across the bridge as the soldier continues missing. It leaps at you, only to have a bunch of buckshot blow through its brains. It falls to the ground, and you run across the bridge, firing your shotgun. The soldier is quickly down, and you take his ammunition. A door, not unlike the last one, stands before you on that side of the bridge, bright yellow light shining on it from the nearby lights.
You reload your shotgun and step forward.
-----
Familiar?
Last edited by Entar on Tue Nov 23, 2004 4:10 am, edited 1 time in total.
It's normal. And I was too busy taking down details to be blowing people away with my 12 gauge on hard.Spike wrote:So you don't play on hard then Entar?
Only one grunt and one doggie outside? Sounds suspisiously like Easy to me...
I'm gonna be making E1M1 part 2, and then E1M2, and hopefully my most favorite level of E1, The Necropolis. I can do E1M2-M3 on Hard if you'd like.
E1M1 part 2 coming soon!
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Dr. Shadowborg
- InsideQC Staff
- Posts: 1120
- Joined: Sat Oct 16, 2004 3:34 pm
Ah, what the heck...
Here's the first part of one of the more prominent in my mind TROH sidestories. Bear with me as this is my first attempt at writing any serious character dialog and therefore may be rather lame.
Prologue
It all started fourty eight hours ago, on San Nicholas Island. Deep inside Shadowcorp's top secret interdimensional research section. A mere fourty eight hours ago, this was an efficient research base. Secure. Impenetrable. Filled with countless heavily armed security guards, HCV Elites, Scientists, and support personnel. Now, it's a crumbling deathtrap, filled with corpses, toxic waste spills, breached reactors, automated machinery run amok, military death squads, and the hidious creatures from beyond. But... Here and there, Shadowcorp personnel have survived, and are regrouping, attempting to close the gateway through which these creatures are coming. Against all possible odds, with their reputations ruined by the very same goverment that cause the slipgate malfunction, they have regrouped and are now fighting to stem the tide...
Who am I and where do I fit into this story? My name is Rick Neo. I'm a Shadowcorp HCV Elite. I've been trained for solo missions into any kind of hazardous enviroment against any foe. The special armor I wear allows me to survive in even the most hostile of enviroments.
It protects me from being harmed by the rather frequent and abundant amounts of bullets, energy, and explosions that come my way, and can repair itself automatically, so long as I keep it properly energized... I'm also the only poor bastard the commander can spare to send to the San Nicholas Island facillity to find out what the hell's happened there.
But, I'm getting ahead of myself. My story begins about 24 hours ago, at a top secret secondary slipgate research facillity located in the Baja Desert...
Chapter Zero, Act 1 "Storm on the Horizion"
"We'd better hurry and get briefed, sir."
Stepping out of the passenger side door of the SUV, I look up in time to see Lt. Peterson jog to the keypad locked door in the camoflauged vehicle hangar. Lt. Peterson's a decent enough guy, though his tendency of being full of piss and vinegar even at the most early or late hours (in this case 4:00 AM in the morning) can get rather annoying. Especially when you haven't even had time to slug down a cup or two of coffee. Slamming the door shut on the SUV, I quickly jog over to the access door as well. Peterson quickly taps out the code to open the door and steps through. He leads me straight to the commander's office.
"Here he is general." Lt. Peterson says. "Thank you lieutenant, you're dismissed." replies General Andrews.
As Peterson leaves, General Andrews turns to look at you.
"Rick, it's good to see you." says General Andrews.
"Cut the crap general, why have you dragged me off from my vacation at three in the morning?" I reply.
"Shuddup and sit down Rick. I'm sorry I had to pull you away from your vacation at such an hour Rick, but there's been an incident at the San Nicholas Island Research Facillity." says Andrews.
"The word is that some kind of malfunction has occured with the slipgate device. Currently, the facillity is besieged by Military troops, and the media, being the good little mouthpieces that they are, are claiming that we've been developing BioGenetic weapons at San Nicholas Island and branding us as terrorists. Even worse, what little information we've been able to get out of the facillity itself indicates that some unknown entity or entities are assaulting the facillity from the inside out."
"Joy" I think to myself.
"We're currently at full alert status. As you know, this base contains a prototype slipgate device, but lacks any coordinate information with the exception of the San Nicholas Island Facillity. I need everybody I've got on full alert status. I also need somebody to go in and find out what the hell is going on at San Nicholas. You're the best I've got." says General Andrews.
"Great. Just Great." I think to myself.
"Get down to the Armory, get equipped, and haul ass to the slipgate room. You're moving out in 20 minutes. Dismissed." finishes Andrews.
I leave the office, and walk the short distance down the hallway to the armory.
"Hey Rick, heard the General's got the usual "poor bastard sent into hell itself" job again. 'cmon in and help yourself!" says Sergent Hughs.
I've always liked Hughs Greyson personally, since he's always had a knack for having just what you need with a cheerful personality.
"Yep, the usual stuff against impossible odds shit. What you got for me?" I reply.
"Heh, I hear that. Well, the good news is that since this is a frontline backup base, we've got all the latest goodies the market's got to offer. Or rather we would've gotten all the latest goodies, we were supposed to get a shipment of MGUN-1X Assault Rifles, and other heavy weapons, but with all the crap that's come down the pipe..." says Hughs while rummaging in a supply locker.
"All I've got for you is this stuff."
Hughs pulls out and lays on the armory table what looks like a spiffed up HCV vest, a pistol, and a shotgun.
"This here vest is the new HCV Mark Two. They've got a one hundred point increase in the maximum energy storage units, plus can use the new Enviromental Protection and Electrical protection chips. They're also way more comfortable to wear than the old Mark ones."
"Wow, nice." I reply.
"You remember the old SP-6 Pistols from Thor, and how they were going to start production of the SP-7's? Well, apparently, there were some problems with the SubMunition ammo, so Thor redesigned the whole gun to be compatable with the MGUN-1X's Dual Core ammo. This baby was the result. They've only just come out this month. It's got a toggleable laser sight and twelve round magazine."
"Good heft." I say.
"These here Bangies are the dual purpose hand grenades. They've got a biosensor so they go boom real nice if you toss 'em and something living. They'll also work with the MGUN-1X's underslung grenade launcher, though they blow up on impact if you use 'em that way."
"Nice." I say.
"And lastly, but not least, this. It's Thor Industries FSAS-12 shotgun. It's autoloading capable with an eight round tube magazine. Also, you can use the new three inch explosive pellet shells in it. If I told you how I managed to get these before their scheduled release states side, I'd have to kill you." jokes Hughs.
"Cool, I get some real weapons for a change." I say with a laugh.
"Ha Ha. You know I always manage to come through with the goods you jerk. Now off with ya!" Hughs says with a snort.
Leaving the armory you begin the short walk toward the elevator to the slipgate chamber...
Prologue
It all started fourty eight hours ago, on San Nicholas Island. Deep inside Shadowcorp's top secret interdimensional research section. A mere fourty eight hours ago, this was an efficient research base. Secure. Impenetrable. Filled with countless heavily armed security guards, HCV Elites, Scientists, and support personnel. Now, it's a crumbling deathtrap, filled with corpses, toxic waste spills, breached reactors, automated machinery run amok, military death squads, and the hidious creatures from beyond. But... Here and there, Shadowcorp personnel have survived, and are regrouping, attempting to close the gateway through which these creatures are coming. Against all possible odds, with their reputations ruined by the very same goverment that cause the slipgate malfunction, they have regrouped and are now fighting to stem the tide...
Who am I and where do I fit into this story? My name is Rick Neo. I'm a Shadowcorp HCV Elite. I've been trained for solo missions into any kind of hazardous enviroment against any foe. The special armor I wear allows me to survive in even the most hostile of enviroments.
It protects me from being harmed by the rather frequent and abundant amounts of bullets, energy, and explosions that come my way, and can repair itself automatically, so long as I keep it properly energized... I'm also the only poor bastard the commander can spare to send to the San Nicholas Island facillity to find out what the hell's happened there.
But, I'm getting ahead of myself. My story begins about 24 hours ago, at a top secret secondary slipgate research facillity located in the Baja Desert...
Chapter Zero, Act 1 "Storm on the Horizion"
"We'd better hurry and get briefed, sir."
Stepping out of the passenger side door of the SUV, I look up in time to see Lt. Peterson jog to the keypad locked door in the camoflauged vehicle hangar. Lt. Peterson's a decent enough guy, though his tendency of being full of piss and vinegar even at the most early or late hours (in this case 4:00 AM in the morning) can get rather annoying. Especially when you haven't even had time to slug down a cup or two of coffee. Slamming the door shut on the SUV, I quickly jog over to the access door as well. Peterson quickly taps out the code to open the door and steps through. He leads me straight to the commander's office.
"Here he is general." Lt. Peterson says. "Thank you lieutenant, you're dismissed." replies General Andrews.
As Peterson leaves, General Andrews turns to look at you.
"Rick, it's good to see you." says General Andrews.
"Cut the crap general, why have you dragged me off from my vacation at three in the morning?" I reply.
"Shuddup and sit down Rick. I'm sorry I had to pull you away from your vacation at such an hour Rick, but there's been an incident at the San Nicholas Island Research Facillity." says Andrews.
"The word is that some kind of malfunction has occured with the slipgate device. Currently, the facillity is besieged by Military troops, and the media, being the good little mouthpieces that they are, are claiming that we've been developing BioGenetic weapons at San Nicholas Island and branding us as terrorists. Even worse, what little information we've been able to get out of the facillity itself indicates that some unknown entity or entities are assaulting the facillity from the inside out."
"Joy" I think to myself.
"We're currently at full alert status. As you know, this base contains a prototype slipgate device, but lacks any coordinate information with the exception of the San Nicholas Island Facillity. I need everybody I've got on full alert status. I also need somebody to go in and find out what the hell is going on at San Nicholas. You're the best I've got." says General Andrews.
"Great. Just Great." I think to myself.
"Get down to the Armory, get equipped, and haul ass to the slipgate room. You're moving out in 20 minutes. Dismissed." finishes Andrews.
I leave the office, and walk the short distance down the hallway to the armory.
"Hey Rick, heard the General's got the usual "poor bastard sent into hell itself" job again. 'cmon in and help yourself!" says Sergent Hughs.
I've always liked Hughs Greyson personally, since he's always had a knack for having just what you need with a cheerful personality.
"Yep, the usual stuff against impossible odds shit. What you got for me?" I reply.
"Heh, I hear that. Well, the good news is that since this is a frontline backup base, we've got all the latest goodies the market's got to offer. Or rather we would've gotten all the latest goodies, we were supposed to get a shipment of MGUN-1X Assault Rifles, and other heavy weapons, but with all the crap that's come down the pipe..." says Hughs while rummaging in a supply locker.
"All I've got for you is this stuff."
Hughs pulls out and lays on the armory table what looks like a spiffed up HCV vest, a pistol, and a shotgun.
"This here vest is the new HCV Mark Two. They've got a one hundred point increase in the maximum energy storage units, plus can use the new Enviromental Protection and Electrical protection chips. They're also way more comfortable to wear than the old Mark ones."
"Wow, nice." I reply.
"You remember the old SP-6 Pistols from Thor, and how they were going to start production of the SP-7's? Well, apparently, there were some problems with the SubMunition ammo, so Thor redesigned the whole gun to be compatable with the MGUN-1X's Dual Core ammo. This baby was the result. They've only just come out this month. It's got a toggleable laser sight and twelve round magazine."
"Good heft." I say.
"These here Bangies are the dual purpose hand grenades. They've got a biosensor so they go boom real nice if you toss 'em and something living. They'll also work with the MGUN-1X's underslung grenade launcher, though they blow up on impact if you use 'em that way."
"Nice." I say.
"And lastly, but not least, this. It's Thor Industries FSAS-12 shotgun. It's autoloading capable with an eight round tube magazine. Also, you can use the new three inch explosive pellet shells in it. If I told you how I managed to get these before their scheduled release states side, I'd have to kill you." jokes Hughs.
"Cool, I get some real weapons for a change." I say with a laugh.
"Ha Ha. You know I always manage to come through with the goods you jerk. Now off with ya!" Hughs says with a snort.
Leaving the armory you begin the short walk toward the elevator to the slipgate chamber...
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Dr. Shadowborg
- InsideQC Staff
- Posts: 1120
- Joined: Sat Oct 16, 2004 3:34 pm
Here's more of E1M1 - it took me a while, been busy, but here you go...
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Two soldiers are patrolling just on the other side of the door. A dog is lying to the right, apparently sleeping. You see a familiar-looking crate. It resembles a crate used for transporting pure O2 back home, and you remember it being highly explosive under certain conditions. Such as being shot by a 12 gauge. It’s worth a shot. You carefully aim your shotgun at the crate and pull the trigger.
The crate suddenly explodes, throwing the soldiers to the wall. The dog rolls over and continues sleeping. You always liked dogs, with the exception of the kind that charge at you and attempt to rip you apart. You step closer to the dog and swiftly kill it with your axe.
You continue, reloading your shotgun as you move forward. You see another soldier, raise your shotgun, and fire. The soldier is shoved backwards, but remains standing. You duck behind a corner as he returns fire. You then lean around the corner and fire a well-aimed shot, taking him down.
You peek around the next corner to the right, and see a pool of slime and two patrolling soldiers on the other side. You crouch and roll to the side, revealing yourself to the soldiers, and fire your shotgun several times. After a few shots, both soldiers are down.
You peer at the bubbling green slime and ponder how you are going to get across…
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I left out the part about the nailgun, cos it'd sorta slow down the story, but I will get the db-shotty in there
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Two soldiers are patrolling just on the other side of the door. A dog is lying to the right, apparently sleeping. You see a familiar-looking crate. It resembles a crate used for transporting pure O2 back home, and you remember it being highly explosive under certain conditions. Such as being shot by a 12 gauge. It’s worth a shot. You carefully aim your shotgun at the crate and pull the trigger.
The crate suddenly explodes, throwing the soldiers to the wall. The dog rolls over and continues sleeping. You always liked dogs, with the exception of the kind that charge at you and attempt to rip you apart. You step closer to the dog and swiftly kill it with your axe.
You continue, reloading your shotgun as you move forward. You see another soldier, raise your shotgun, and fire. The soldier is shoved backwards, but remains standing. You duck behind a corner as he returns fire. You then lean around the corner and fire a well-aimed shot, taking him down.
You peek around the next corner to the right, and see a pool of slime and two patrolling soldiers on the other side. You crouch and roll to the side, revealing yourself to the soldiers, and fire your shotgun several times. After a few shots, both soldiers are down.
You peer at the bubbling green slime and ponder how you are going to get across…
-----------
I left out the part about the nailgun, cos it'd sorta slow down the story, but I will get the db-shotty in there
A tangible stench wafts up from the crevice before you, sulfur and flesh were never the most amicable of ingredients for even a fiends fragrance. But gravity doesnt lie, and your eyes are tempted to agree, that hind-legged bastard just misjudged the distance, and jumped too soon. Of course it might have made it had I not buried a handful of nails into its belly while it was still mid-air, and despite that, it managed to grab a hold of the ledge with its claws, though they lacked much gripping capabilities, especially after I applied my shotgun at a more personal range to the situation.
You had never seen a fiend do such a thing before, sure they werent bright, an animal, especially one as brutish as that, is a good judge of its surroundings, and is more prone to failure from some mechanism then the natural environment... musta been an off day for him.
You take a careful step forward onto the soot laden tile, fragmented in so many ways, resting upon an insecure pillar, as you begin to cross the volcanic-ravaged bridge over one of this worlds bizarrely ubiquitous lava flows. You would think lava would be a welcome respite in a world without sunlight, just some strange rebounding illumintation under those thick animated skies, but its heat seems self-contained. If you stood five feet away, it would be just a source of light, and potential death, and never certainly anything as potentially comforting as heat.
The bridge was shattered, and considering its construction of stone, scattered, but you traverse it fairly nimbly, yet all to wary of that stoic death waiting below. You're not even sure why you try so hard to not fall... It is only death after all, and youre not going anywhere. You thought after the grisly destruction of the hell mother, through an awfully literal inflammation of the heart, that you would be returning home.... That after your encounter with the grotesque Armagon, a refuge of Earth would be granted, or perhaps even after that epic discussion of flaming projectiles with a winged dragon, completing your trinity of monstrous devastations, you would leave this place.
Yet nothing. You still lay vulnerable in this twilight, which is understandable, what kind of creature would build a form for itself that rewarded its slayer with a free ride? But still you held out hope, that perhaps with their deaths it would send shockwaves throughout this faux-multiverse that desired to mirror your phobias, destroying its inhabitants and paving a way of escape. That perhaps with the relinquishment of organisation in their forces, Earth could repel them, and re-enter the slipgates, seeking out the remains of their exploratory team, of which remained, only you.
These thoughts occured countless times, happening in a flash of a second, synchronized with each footstep upon the granite. Depression and constant inquisition was wearing you down faster then any horde of the goatwhore's young. Suicide had occured before, and seemed almost rational considering, yet it was pushed back as an option, yielding privilege to your disdain for all of her voracious children, so rife with their cravings for flesh, and the abject misery of another.
For Quake is still alive, its existence permeates this world, and seems to drive and personally inflame and agitate the hatred in every vile being it commands, using their volatile nature for an awkward complacency towards one another, all for its goal of breaking another world, subjugating it like a crippled prostitute for Quake to execute his fetishes of smouldering ruin.
Your suicide would please Quake, it would be the perfect plot twist to his ruinous environments that you so precariously explore, and would capitalize well upon your hate for Quake. How perfectly ironic that your hatred for hatred, leads to your destruction by its employer. And so with each battle, your hate grows stronger, the desperation imbeds itself all the deeper, and the infested wound that is the conscious life flow of Quake in the very veins of this cursed horizon, festers in the corner of your eye, and the back of your mind, as you squint through that despicable lust for pain, to squeeze the trigger once more.
You had never seen a fiend do such a thing before, sure they werent bright, an animal, especially one as brutish as that, is a good judge of its surroundings, and is more prone to failure from some mechanism then the natural environment... musta been an off day for him.
You take a careful step forward onto the soot laden tile, fragmented in so many ways, resting upon an insecure pillar, as you begin to cross the volcanic-ravaged bridge over one of this worlds bizarrely ubiquitous lava flows. You would think lava would be a welcome respite in a world without sunlight, just some strange rebounding illumintation under those thick animated skies, but its heat seems self-contained. If you stood five feet away, it would be just a source of light, and potential death, and never certainly anything as potentially comforting as heat.
The bridge was shattered, and considering its construction of stone, scattered, but you traverse it fairly nimbly, yet all to wary of that stoic death waiting below. You're not even sure why you try so hard to not fall... It is only death after all, and youre not going anywhere. You thought after the grisly destruction of the hell mother, through an awfully literal inflammation of the heart, that you would be returning home.... That after your encounter with the grotesque Armagon, a refuge of Earth would be granted, or perhaps even after that epic discussion of flaming projectiles with a winged dragon, completing your trinity of monstrous devastations, you would leave this place.
Yet nothing. You still lay vulnerable in this twilight, which is understandable, what kind of creature would build a form for itself that rewarded its slayer with a free ride? But still you held out hope, that perhaps with their deaths it would send shockwaves throughout this faux-multiverse that desired to mirror your phobias, destroying its inhabitants and paving a way of escape. That perhaps with the relinquishment of organisation in their forces, Earth could repel them, and re-enter the slipgates, seeking out the remains of their exploratory team, of which remained, only you.
These thoughts occured countless times, happening in a flash of a second, synchronized with each footstep upon the granite. Depression and constant inquisition was wearing you down faster then any horde of the goatwhore's young. Suicide had occured before, and seemed almost rational considering, yet it was pushed back as an option, yielding privilege to your disdain for all of her voracious children, so rife with their cravings for flesh, and the abject misery of another.
For Quake is still alive, its existence permeates this world, and seems to drive and personally inflame and agitate the hatred in every vile being it commands, using their volatile nature for an awkward complacency towards one another, all for its goal of breaking another world, subjugating it like a crippled prostitute for Quake to execute his fetishes of smouldering ruin.
Your suicide would please Quake, it would be the perfect plot twist to his ruinous environments that you so precariously explore, and would capitalize well upon your hate for Quake. How perfectly ironic that your hatred for hatred, leads to your destruction by its employer. And so with each battle, your hate grows stronger, the desperation imbeds itself all the deeper, and the infested wound that is the conscious life flow of Quake in the very veins of this cursed horizon, festers in the corner of your eye, and the back of your mind, as you squint through that despicable lust for pain, to squeeze the trigger once more.