Fall From Grace, Weary Slayer (Cultist Skin AU)
This is a little, vore-y retelling of A Desperate, Defenseless Creature but the Slayer is a minigiant and he looks the way he does with the Cultist Skin in game.
The Divinity Machine had some unintended consequences on the Doom Slayer. Turning him into a beast 30 feet tall and giving him the appearance of a demon, he had to prove that he is still good to himself and to the human that he brings to the Fortress for safe keeping.
[Ao3 Link, Ao3 members only, sorry]
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Part 1: Belly of the Beast
Contains: Fearplay, soft and safe vore, heavy mentions of digestion, strong language.
Wordcount: 1.4K
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Warren was holed up on the fourth floor of the office building during the apocalypse, knowing this place was more than likely going to be the place where he would die.
The stairs collapsed days ago. The elevator was currently in a heap at the bottom of the shaft. His only exit was the fire escape, but it wouldn’t be a guarantee. At least one of the ladders between him and the ground outside was destroyed. Demons could fly and jump much higher than he could. And if there were demons waiting for him at the bottom of the ladder, then he was toast.
He counted and re-counted his rations once more.
Enough calories for two days. Maybe three days if he spent most of those days asleep or not moving much. Half a bottle of water that he had been taking sips out of solely for the mental boost.
He applied more chapstick half heartedly. Everybody on this floor seemed to have chapstick, but nothing to drink at their desks. All the desks were piled against all the windows but the one that led to the fire escape. All the chairs had been arranged in a way that Warren could comfortably sleep on them or were also barricading something.
Just as he was considering taking another small sip from the water bottle so his tongue no longer stuck to the roof of his mouth, the entire building trembled.
Warren sat up. He lunged for his glasses and jammed them on. He listened to the silence again before there was the unmistakable crumbling of brick from the lower levels.
Either the building was going to give way under its own damage, or something was crashing through walls downstairs.
Without hesitation, Warren threw everything into his backpack and clipped it on. He struggled to open the window to the fire escape and crouched in anticipation by the windowsill.
There was nothing for a couple moments, and then the floor started to crumble underneath his feet.
Warren scrambled onto the fire escape, landing heavily on one shoulder, and he had to adjust his glasses to look down through the grates. Demons were swarming around the place.
Shit.
He carefully got to his feet and started to climb down, making as little noise as possible to not alert the demons to his presence. At the moment, his only chances of getting to some more cover was making it down undetected and then somehow outrunning a horde of demons to another building they hadn’t already destroyed.
As Warren passed a window on the second floor, he saw the head of some high-ranking demon through the window. It had smashed up the floors, and as far as Warren could tell, its feet were on the ground as it picked through piles of furniture.
It looked at the window, and Warren’s heart froze. It had to see him. It couldn’t not have seen him. And it started moving closer, causing the whole building to tremble.
Warren quickly prayed for his glasses and all but jumped off the fire escape. Luckily, he had managed to roll instead of just splatter against the pavement. And his glasses by some miracle only picked up a crack instead of completely shattering.
Just in time, too.
The entire wall of the building, right beside the fire escape, crumbled. The high-ranking demon stepped into the light to strike terror into Warren’s heart. Dull green armor covered most of its body, standing at least thirty feet in height. A wicked looking blade extended from the left gauntlet. Enormous horns twisted up out of its head. The bottom half of the helmet was missing, showing slightly yellowed fangs filling its mouth.
Warren ran for his life.
The monster gave chase. Warren could feel its heavy boots slamming into the ground.
His luck ran out. Warren rounded a corner, hoping to shake the monster chasing him, and ran straight into a small hoard of zombies. The only reason he didn’t end up hitting them was because his sneakers lost purchase on the hell growth covered ground and he slipped on his ass.
They came right towards him, arms extended, moaning. Warren tried to scramble back, but the monster blocked his exit.
Cornered.
Warren couldn’t even get to his own feet before the enormous demon grabbed him, hoisting him off the ground by his backpack. The zombies tried to approach, to fight for their meal, and the enormous demon kicked one into others before walking off with Warren held tightly.
“Let me go!” Warren squirmed, trying to get the buckles that held him in the backpack undone.
The demon brought Warren up to be level with its face. It looked him over for a moment, Warren unable to see its eyes underneath its visor, and then flipped Warren upside down. His glasses that had clung tightly to his face fell off, plummeting to the ground. His legs were tightly held in its enormous hand, and the demon began to pull at the backpack.
With a solid tug, the backpack fell off, the buckle hitting Warren in the face as it slipped past and the straps wrenched his arms.
The blurry ground dwindled away from under Warren’s view, and was replaced with the dark blob that had to be the gaping maw of the demon.
“No!” Warren’s brain went into blind panic. He tried to brace his hands against the demon’s face, the sharp teeth now clear since it was within arms reach, but he had no chance of making a difference. It just opened its mouth wider and Warren was forced, head first, into its maw.
He couldn’t scream. His face was pressed into a hot, slimy tongue that funneled him back easily. His arms were pinned to his sides, and sharp teeth pulled at his clothes. A whine left his throat when a sliver of light flashed into view and was gone just as quickly.
The last light Warren would ever see.
The pressure tightened around his waist and then a deep swallow pulled Warren down.
Slime covered his face. Hot flesh squeezed his body. A deep, thumping heartbeat added an extra layer of fear to Warren’s already buzzing mind. Heartbeat. The demon’s heartbeat. Pounding in his ears. Killing him.
Another swallow pulled Warren even deeper. He could no longer wiggle his feet in protest.
An eternity of hot, squeezing flesh later, Warren bumped against a tight ring of muscle. It stretched over his head, and when he was freed, Warren took a coughing breath.
It stank. The air stank like acid and death.
His arms were freed as he fell against the stomach walls. His hands sank into wet flesh and he couldn’t move his legs and he could feel this thick slime clinging to his hair and the air reeked of death and he was going to die here. He was going to die. He was swallowed whole by a demon and he was going to die. It was going to be slow and painful and he was going to die here and be digested and nobody would ever know that this happened to him.
His legs were freed from the monster’s throat. Warren scrambled to be sitting upright, forced to move against the monster’s guts.
Sitting upright, Warren took a few breaths. He couldn’t see his shaking hands in front of his face. It was so dark. Even if his glasses were still with him, there was no chance of him seeing anything worthwhile.
He was going to die here.
Every limb felt like it was made of lead. He couldn’t move. The booming heart over his head kept him pinned.
The demon sighed, and Warren felt the stomach shift with its breathing.
It started moving. Walking. Warren felt him sway and move with its movements. Thudding footsteps.
A gurgling noise sounded, making Warren flinch. The demon paused, and then a belch had the stomach tighten around Warren. He was squished between the walls for a moment before they relaxed.
Warren tried to wipe the thick slime from his face, only to smear it around since his hands were also covered in it.
His breath hitched and Warren pressed his face into his slime covered jeans. He was going to die here. A snack for a demon. All that was left of him was a couple letters in his backpack. Some drawings. And that was if this monster didn’t throw his backpack into a lava river or crush it.
His eyes burned, but no tears flowed. His chest heaved with sobs. He couldn’t even form last words. How pathetic.
