The NU Demon

I crash through a cultist unfortunate enough to step into the middle of the hall without noticing the chaos coming her way. She's sent tumbling into the wall with arguably justified curses being tossed out. Except shes a cultist so fuck her, I hope she broke something. The lizards seem to keep pace, hurdling through the hall after me as an even more powerful ball of destruction. I jump over a wooden barrel being dragged into the hallway by two cultists. They shout in surprise as I sail over the container, barely clearing it. A few moments later I hear the horde crash through it behind me, the sounds of splintering wood and shouting echoing up the hallway with the choir of hisses.

I'm tempted to drop my disguise to save and regain some mana. But doing so might alert everyone around me. The cultists and other demons are jumping out of the way when they hear and see us coming, so they probably think it's a spat between two demons. Not me being a part of the lord assholes grand old shitty game. Unfortunately, demon lord dickhead must have heard my thoughts, because his projected voice fills the entirety of the bunker and probably the camp too moments later.

"And it looks like the naga demon clan of shshhshshthth, known to those less cognitively inclined of you as the green scales, are the first to find her on the fifth level! Ops, did I say that last part out loud? Silly me! Happy running!" His slightly demonic tone announces everywhere.

Oh you mother fucker! That changes the attitude of almost every demon and cultist in the hallway instantly. Going instantly from wanting nothing to do with it, to murder happy. A bunch whip out knives, swords, machetes. Others whip out pistols and even a long rifle. Demons surge into the hall from the side rooms.

For a moment I think I'm irreparably fucked. Then the mayhem truly starts. The cultist with the long gun levels it at me. And an imp, apparently not wanting him to get the kill, jumps up and yanks the barrel down. Pointing it right at the foot of the cultist standing next to him. The rifle discharges, leaving the other cultists yowling and howling in pain. Further Down the hall two corjos surge forward and bump into each other in the process. The resulting death ball as they lunge and tumble into each other is not unlike the one I saw in the bank lobby.

Two more cultists are having a spat further down the hall over a handgun, and a final one is doing his best to club imps out of his way, as the imps do their best to poke him back with their sticks. Everything within the hallway that isn't within shooting or stabbing distance of me is borderline fighting those who do, and even those who don't. Any and everything to make sure no one else gets the kill even if they won't get it themselves.

Those directly around me are a different story. An imp directly to my left lept up at me off the floor with some kind of shity blade in its hand. A cultist slightly ahead and to the right dives at me while pulling a knife from his belt. I dropped into a slide, pulling my wings in as much as possible to try and keep them from grinding on the floor or catching on something. The imp and cultist collided mid air, and the cultists let out a horrific shriek as the imp buried its blade in his gut.

I jump back to my feet and keep rushing, barely losing any momentum as a bullet whizzes by my head from behind. I panickedly look over my shoulder just in time to watch the cultist with the offending handgun get brutally cut down by the apparent naga demons as they surged past. Not even a second later another cultist got knocked to the floor in front of the stampede. They stomped over him like he wasn't there. He didn't even get to scream, just instantly a bloody paste being smeared down the hall as they chased after me.

I look back ahead just in time to jump over a corjo demon that had jumped into the hall in front of me. It lunges up to try and bite me, but I manage to kick it in the side of it's stupid face as I go over, sending it sprawling to the side. Ahead of me a bunch more cultists pile out of a side room. But these ones are different, they seem to be some sort of organized and armed group. They have leather armor, with most having a full getup of head to toe protection. Two of them are carrying massive black tower shields. Which they promptly slam down in the middle of the hallway facing me. The half a dozen or so following them with crossbows don't have enough time to get into position before I go crashing through the group. The tower shields do practically nothing to stop me as I fold my arms in front of me and simply use my speed to smash my way through.

Of course it isn't that clean, I barely make it through. But I manage to tumble into a roll which transitions me back to my feet, letting me continue sprinting down the hallway with only some disruption to my flow. Some is just enough for the murder lizard people to get uncomfortably close unfortunately. I reach the corner and turn it a few moments later, and hear the screams and shouts of the two groups clashing behind me.

This hall is the same as the last one, just a lot shorter. And I can see the elevators at the end. Sitting in a nice little junction annex thing full of cultists and demons looking this direction to see what the fuss is about.

I smash through another cultist just standing in the middle of the hall like a brain dead zombie. Sending them crashing into the wall with a scream. The others at the end of the hall start scrambling for their weapons. Except half of them don't get there, instead they panic and rush to the left. The other half of the room also panics and shift their focus from me to whatever is on the right side of the room. Chaos ensues at the end of the hall, and I'm tempted to take my chances turning around or ducking into a side room. That is until one of the elevator doors starts to open. I can make it, and if I make it I'm home free.

At the end of the hall cultists have started shooting wildly from their half of the room into the other, somehow still uncaring of my approach. Then the reason why becomes clear. An imp riding a corjo demon like fucking cavalry darts across the room and into a cultist. It lunges and knocks him to the ground, before ripping his throat out while the imp stabs him in the eye with a makeshift spear. Said spear is nothing more than a stick with a kitchen knife duck taped to the end, but it's effective enough. Half a dozen more surge across the room at the still panicking cultists.

One goes down to gunfire, two more rush into view to take its place. The other five slam into the gaggle, ripping out throats and slashing at everyone else nearby.

"Looks like the imps tamed some corjos to form a war band! I guess that Imp commander hiding out on the fifth decided to make its move finally! Someone might want to deal with that before they get out of hand!" The voice of the demon lord echoes through the halls, sounding like an excited child watching a new episode of their favorite tv show.

The elevator door finishes opening, and the three cultists inside don't even need a full second to decide they're on the wrong floor. One starts to mash the buttons for other floors while the other two pull weapons, a club and a shotgun, and move to guard.

I reach the end of the hall and burst into the room, gaining no small amount of attention as I smack and uppity imp off its mount on the way by. Half the over two dozen imp cavalry turn their attention to me suddenly bolting through their lines while the cultists are still too distracted to care. Holy shit that's a lot of imps, its gotta be a fucking rebellion or something!

The elevator door start to close as I jump a body sprawled out on the floor, throat ripped out and oozing blood into a puddle. The knockoff demonic cavalry converge on me from all sides, but they aren't quick enough to get me…. If I can get through the door in time.

One of them does get close enough to literally nip at my heels. One of the pair gets close enough to the elevator to notice it's open. But it doesn't get any farther than turning to the people inside before a load of buckshot kills the rider and makes the corjo rethink its poor life decisions. I leap over the yowling demon and slip through the elevator doors just as they close.

The shotgun cultist's eyes go wide in panic as he realizes at the last possible second that I'm flying right into him. There is no space to stop, there is no time to stop. So he's gonna be the backboard I use to break my speed. I shoulder check him into the back of the elevator hard, hard enough to shake the elevator and dent the wall. I'm pretty sure I broke his back, but it doesn't matter. He dies a mere moment after the impact, his soul dissolving away into the world around us.

The elevator lurches and starts to rise as my wings flash out and smash into both the remaining cultists. The one with the club bounces off the wall and tumbles to the floor. His friend slams into the wall but manages to remain standing. So I turn on him and slam my fist into his gut as hard as I can. A knife he was pulling off his belt clatters to the floor as he folds like wet paper. He slumps over and falls down, barely making more than a slight groan as he collapses. I turn back to deal with the other one and find him scrambling to his knees.

"Please! Mercy!" He begs. But I have none.

I rear back and kick him in his head, intent on knocking him out. Unfortunately I kick a bit too hard, and his head snaps back with a sickening crack. Then he goes limp, flopping over on the floor like a dead fish. His soul hasn't faded yet, but I'm fairly sure I just broke his neck. Oh god, I just did that. I just beat two people to death. Granted they were cultists, and one isn't dead yet. But a broken neck is a death sentence here.

I let out a shaky breath and look up at the floor counter, watching it go from four to three. Fuck, no time to mourn over dead enemies. I reach down and commandeer the shotgun now laying on the floor. It seems in decent enough condition, but is definitely an older model. A Mossberg, pump action, but the exact model isn't inscribed anywhere on the gun. I have no idea how many shots this will hold, but it looks like four or five.

I feel the elevator come slide to a stop as I reach down to investigate the ex shotgun wielding cultist. No obvious shotgun shells, until I notice his robe has a small pouch crudely sewn into it. I fish it open and sure enough my fingers pull out some loose shells. I load one spare shell, and try to get a second to fit but it wont. I return the second shell to the pouch then rip it out.

I stand back up and turn around just in time for the ding signaling the doors to open, revealing the receiving anex of the third floor. Surprisingly, it's mostly barren. No one seems to bat an eye at the opening elevator doors, much less be concerned with the mess of two bodies and an unconscious man inside. Not that I'm going to complain. I wonder for a second what I'm going to do with the ammo pouch, I can't exactly hold it while utilizing the shotgun properly. Then I remember I have an effectively third arm. I just coil my tail around the ammo pouch, leaving my hands free to wield the gun.

I step out of the elevator into what can only be described as a cavern of a room. Well, a flat cavern that is. The room is only as tall as a regular building floor, but it's gotta stretch the width and length of the entire bunker. Line of sight only being broken by massive amounts of support columns, what seem to be stand alone rooms in some parts, or other objects and obstructions. In one area I see what looks to be a slightly ransacked medical center, imps tussling in the packing foam of long looted boxes. But the rest of it seems to be in fairly good condition, at least from the outside.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

If I'm recalling my civics lessons right, the top three floors of modern bunkers are wide open spaces designed for rapid ingress while maintaining crowd control. Their wide open layout allows for easy alteration to adapt to changing situations. They are supposed to act as temporary shelters, allowing for safety without having to fully utilize the bunker in the event of a short attack. Additionally, they are designed to be defensible, somewhat. Normally a wide open space wouldn't be defensible, but the excessive amounts of alternating support pillars provide great long distance cover and prevent any rapid charges across the floor. Additionally, the ceiling being so low means that most of the larger demon types can't fit, and anything inside has decreased mobility. No leaping or flying around and shit. The redundant pillars also provide extra stability if something does happen, keeping the roof from dropping in anyone.

Additionally, the floors are laid out such that even if demons get through the top side blast doors, they need to fight their way across and entire floor before being able to go down to the next one. Speaking of which, there is only one set of ramps up to the second floor, no elevators. Which means that if I want to get topside, I need to go that way. Which is probably where anything with a brain cell is going to wait for me to try and get me. Bottle necks work both ways, and it really sucks to be on the receiving end of one.

I spot the ramps across the floor, a pair zigzagging in opposite directions down from the floor above. A moderate amount of foot traffic travels up and down, before dispersing across the floor. I start walking my way towards the ramps, no one seeming to pay me any mind as I march my way across the floor. Just another blood covered demon marching about. Though the shotgun might seem a bit weird, I'd still rather have it than not. I'm happy I didn't straight drop my disguise when the lizard freaks started chasing me.

And that thought right there is where it all went to shit. I'm about half way to the ramps when I hear the elevators ding behind me, the telltale sound of a carriage arriving. I turn to look, and watch half a dozen corjos being ridden by imps skulk out of the metal box. All of them turn their noses to the air and start sniffing. Shit……

But before I can turn to run, one of the doors to the stairwell on the opposite side of the floor crashes open so hard it actually makes the corjos jump. It slams into the wall, ripped off its hinges and crushed into the concrete. The steel defensive door torn asunder like tissue paper. A green naga demon stomps out this one bipedal but bigger than the ones from before, barely fitting, having to scrunch just to stand. An imp happens to be to close for its own good, and the seemingly very angry demon snatches it up before it can scatter. With a roar it rips the imp in half, before throwing the halves down and stomping them to a pulp while more smaller nagas pour out of the stairwell behind it. Double shit…….

The door on the opposite stairwell literally explodes, the once metal room separator turning into a projectile that clatters off some support pillars and across the floor. Out of the smoke rush a shit ton of cultists, but not just any cultists. The only way to describe them traitors would be spec ops cultists. The military kind of spec ops, decked out in high end gear and very clearly well trained as they spread out in a formation of sorts. And about three dozen of them clown car out of the stairwell in the span of five seconds. Triple shit……..

All three groups spot each other. The entire floor seems to go silent and freeze. A moment passes, then another, as the groups size each other up. The elevators ding again. Some imp near the spec ops jumps onto a box and raises its crude pitchfork over its head to screech. It's shot instantly. The nagas let out a collective war hiss and charge across the floor. The corjo cavalry break into a high pitched collective war cry of howls and high pitched screeches as more surge out of the elevators. Any and everything on the floor not a part of those three groups breaks into a dead sprint for the ramps, myself included. I don't know what's more horrifying, the nagas swarming the damned floor, the spec ops pulling themselves out of nowhere like a magician's rabbit out of a hat, or the damned imps figuring out how to use an elevator!

Thank god these guys seem more hellbent on murdering each other than murdering me. Then again I'm probably not very obvious right now. I weave between poles, making my way towards the ramps up as fast as I can without running into things, or entities. Unfortunately, even with the low population of the floor, its already getting crowded at the ramps. And apparently no shoving isn't a rule here. I watch a cultist get shoved over by some kind of goat demon. And promptly trampled over just for being under foot. Behind me I hear the first vestiges of battle start as the roar of demons killing and dying meets the sounds of explosions and bullets being tossed about.

"And it looks like the cultist Special Operations Unit has finally deceived to catch up! Wondered when they would join in the fun. They seem to be the only ones of you hairless monkeys without smooth brains. Anyway, for those of you looking to commute down stairs, you might want to take the cargo elevator or postpone your plans! Those three are going at it and……." The booming voice of lord Bayloroth rings though the air, only to be drowned out by an explosion. An explosion from below so tremendous it knocks almost everything off its feet, myself included.

For a moment I fear the bunker is about to collapse around me, but this floor seems to be holding fast. For now at least.

"What in the seven layers of hell was that!? What are you idiots doing down there? Of for the love of, stop fighting in the munitions storage areas you……" He continues shouting, only to be cut off once more by another explosion. This one not as bad as the first, but I see a crack spider out across the ceiling above me.

"Wait a second, that's not fighting! Those damned imps are actually rebelling, full on rebelling! Stop that you little shits! I'm not amused by……"

The lights flicker, then die. For a moment the room is darkness, only the muzle flashes of the cultists guns and the occasional spell proving illumination. Then the emergency lights kick on, bathing the floor in an ominous low red glow as an alarm starts to blare.

"Ȩ̵̟͙͎̪̟̻͎͌͂̐̋̒̔n̵̞͇̫͎̝̐̾̅͂͋͗̇ǫ̴̫̬̹̫̼͒̌͋̌̒̉̋̇̽̈́͘͜ủ̷̧̻̩̆̃̈́̍̚͜g̶̢̺̩͛̊͑͐̓̔̈́̓͘̚h̶̦͓̼̪͇̖̙̟͑̈́̉͒́̉̍̇͝͝!̶̣̮̬̜̘̀̈́̾̿" Baylorth's voice rips into my ears. Like it's alive and trying to pierce its way in.

"Purge them! Leave not a single imp breathing! Sbrugreth, Ertorth, deal with them before they bring the whole base down! I want to hear their screams of suffering for the next eternity!"

I make it to the bottom of the ramp, but as I check over my shoulder the fighting isn't far behind. The naga and special forces have both stopped deliberately shooting at one another in favor of culling the imps. But its clear from the fighting that 'accidental' friendly fire is occurring just as much as actual realized fire. Grenades are tossed everywhere with reckless abandon, bouncing off pillars and sliding under the feet of both nagas and imp riding corjo. A chorus off curses ring out in front of me as I turn back to front to see a small group of imps huddled up on the right ramp. They viciously attack anything nearing them as the crowd pushes those in front straight into them.

A cultist gets singled out and shoved into the middle of the group, and she screams as they descend on her and stab her to death from every angle possible. A small gargoyle steps ahead of the crowd and suddenly belches a stream of fire over the entire group. Both the imps, their victim, and a not so few number of nearby cultists get bathed in fire. The lucky ones seem to just drop dead on the spot, the rest go down wailing in agony.

I take the left ramp and rush my way up, pushing past a few slower cultists as I make it to the second floor without incident. Unfortunately, unlike the third floor, the second is very much occupied. The population seems to be close to half imps, half everyone else. And its absolute mayhem. Groups of imps rush across the floor, some running for their lives in, others chasing down cultists and other demons. Other groups of demons and cultists huddle together or fight on their own depending on how well they can stand against the imps. I see a group of cultists get swarmed in the distance, disappearing under the tide of stabby ankle biters from hell. On the other side of the room, a minotaur with spikes protruding from its spine and along its arms swings giant hammers around. Seeming to not care about much damage it's doing as it repeatedly smashes pillars.

No one seems to care to question my disguise in all the chaos. All too busy with the suddenly rebelling imps. A blessing and a curse, I can easily slip by…… except the voice of Bayloroth cuts through the heat of the fighting, addressing all once more to be heard.

"Alright, stop killing the damn imps! Turns out not all of them are rebelling! Some of them might have a brain after all. Anyway, stop purging, they still have some uses!" he speaks out. The moment he finishes that last sentence, all fighting seems to cease as the sides break away and swap to posture at one another. The atmosphere remains tense, so much that a twig snapping could probably cause the fighting to resume. But Bayloroth isn't done yet.

"It was supposed to be a good day today! But no, some of you little shits just had to go and do that! Well fine, two can play at that game! Any imp who doesn't bring the head of a traitor in by nightfall will be executed like one! To the rest of you, get back to work!" He snaps.

In a flash the whole dynamic changes, groups break off and return to their duties, seemingly becoming allergic to one another with how fast they disperse. The imps on the other hand turn on one another, rapidly clustering into chaotic little balls of death as they try to murder the shit out of one another. God this place is pandemonium, how the hell does anything get done?

Suddenly I hear the fighting resume behind me. The cultists, naga, and what's left of the imps have made it to the bottom of the ramps. And have promptly gone back to trying to murderize one another. The sudden sounds and flashes of violence grab the attention of everyone on the second floor as well, all turning to see what is happening.

I'm not waiting for an invitation. I bolt across the floor as fast as I can, hell bent on staying ahead of the fiasco. Because I'm well aware if they catch up they will figure me out if they haven't already. Crossing the second floor is harder than the first. With the lights being reduced to pathetic levels with the occasional blinding flash of a spell, I can't see shit and trip over damn near everything due to my speed. The only reason I don't is because of my own eye glow.

Unlike the third floor, some of the denizens of the second floor don't start running, instead choosing to hold their ground and see what happens. They are right to do so apparently, as while the fighting continues down stairs, a peak over my shoulder reveals only naga ascending the ramps, though only in small numbers. But hopefully they will have trouble crossing the floor due to the imps constantly tumbling across it while fighting.

The scramble from the third floor has left a lot of people and even some demons near the ramp though. Some spread out on their own, others regroup with more of their kind. I jog past a group of cultists talking about the incident. The man described the event with heavy heaves from the exertion of running. One line sticks out, 'some assholes who burst in and started blowing up half the floor'. Which honestly isn't a bad description for it.

Another asks 'what about the supplies down there?' I keep moving, leaving the group and the rest of the floor behind. A quick check reveals the naga laser focused on me. But they don't seem intent on tearing the floor apart or trying to make a blitz towards me. Instead opting to stalk me at a pace that slowly closes the distance. Well shit, they definitely know. But I think they are playing it cool in an attempt to not alert the others. Or maybe they don't have the numbers yet. Only six have amended the ramp so far, all as a semi singular group. I can hear the fighting and see the continuing flashes down the ramp, so the rest are probably tied down.

I don't want to run. A succubus covered in blood, holding a shotgun is already suspicious enough that I'm getting weird looks as I pass by. Breaking into anything more than a jog will probably trigger a bullshit detector and get me swamped.

Still, my jog to the other side is unimpeded, aside from having to steer around a murder ball of imps still going at it. But everyone save the minotaur from earlier seems to be doing that. It's just stomping through the groups as they scatter to avoid getting stepped on.

I look back to check on the nagas, only to find they have managed to close half the distance between us. I don't plan on waiting around for them to catch up some more, so I bounce my way up the ramp. I'm fully ready to be done with this shit, but something tells me it's not going to be that easy. Sure enough, what I find at the top has me stopping in place and rethinking my odds in a fight with the naga.

Because of course it can't just be that easy.