Doom: Episode 1 Map 1 -- The Hangar I readied my pistol, the only weapon they deemed me safe with. The weapon was extremely well made; the gyrojet bullets used were fast and extremely accurate. Automatic firing, it was top of the line, but still it packed only so much of a punch. It would have to do. The hangar doors whispered open, revealing the reception lobby that lay beyond. All was quiet. A soldier lay bleeding in the middle of the floor, a number of bullets and shells having sliced through his soft, tender flesh. I picked up a couple of pieces of armour plating, they could come in handy later on. Suddenly, a gurgled shout from behind me. The control tower, could anyone be left alive in this carnage? I moved quickly to the side room, the poor lighting not aiding my vision at all. A short flight of stairs led up to the observation deck. Movement. I aimed my pistol at the top of the stairs, the creature moved forward ... Marines? Two men shuffled about at the top of the stairs, blood splattered over their uniforms and faces. The lighting was too poor, I couldn't make out anything accurately. I lowered my weapon. Mistake number one. A shotgun blast roared out, my left arm leapt to the side, military buckshot tearing through the unprotected flesh. Pain rocketed through my body. I grunted, my eyes narrowed. I raised the pistol and fired twice, leveling the first trooper, another two shots silenced the second. Their weapons dropped to the ground with an echoing clatter. "My mistake was lowering my guard, yours was missing." I ran up the stairs, intent on gaining the new weapon. Mistake number two. Another blast tore into my right leg, the uranium pellets doing their job quite effectively. I tumbled up the stairs, carried on by my momentum. I rolled over the shotgun, grasping it with my bad arm. I cocked it one handed and fired back down the stairs. I knew I wouldn't have a chance at hitting anything, but it would make them think. Or so I thought. It seemed to only get them more irate, I could hear two shambling about at the foot of the stairs, growling and firing off into nothingness. One's screams were cut short by a shotgun blast. Interesting ... I peered down at my feet, the first trooper I had killed lay strewn about me. "My God ... Hamlin?" I knelt down to confirm my first impression. Hamlin was a sector sargeant, one of the first people I met on my arrival to Mars Base. I thought he had shipped home a month ago. The corpse that lay before me bore only a vague simularity to the man I once knew. He looked as if he had been dead for quite some time, perhaps two weeks. Thick, blackened blood oozed slowly from the two holes I had put into his body. He may have been human once, but he was no longer. The other corpse was in a similar state. What was going on here? I searched my near perfect memory, a 'gift' of the creators of NewTypes. My mind stored facts much like a computer, an effort to make sure we learned from our mistakes. "Christ ..." I gasped. Some 4,879 men had been shipped from this base in the last year alone. It would seem a very generous estimate that half of those had made it home to Earth ... Survival seemed difficult to achieve now, if not impossible. I ejected the shells from the second shotgun, quickly shoving them into the chamber in Hamlin's gun. A quick scan of the tower proved qutie useful. A small stimpack lay nearby, a useful concoction of pain killers, stimulants and Plasti-Flesh, a patch for open wounds to prevent too much loss of blood. I quickly applied the pack to my leg, I needed to walk more than I needed both arms. I holstered the pistol and then examined the number of shells I had left. 'Eight shots.' I thought to myself worriedly, 'It will have to due. Let's see if my training means anything here.' A quick search of the console also proved fruitful, revealing a small locker in which lay a suit of light armour. I buckled the protective Plasti-Steel to my body, confidence beginning to rise. I was amazed at the stupidity of these creatures. The one downstairs had still not come up to visit. Looks like I'd have to go down and say hi. Latching the final strap of armour to my body, I cocked the shotgun and moved forward quickly. The stimpack worked as prescribed, allowing me full movement and perfect reflexes. At the top of the stairs I even let myself smile. "Let's rock!" I called out, blowing the head off the zombie at the base of the stairs. I made my way down the main tunnel to the processing area. I paused before the door. Unearthly growling and howls could be heard beyond the twelve inches of solid steel blast doors. Taking a deep breath, I pressed the access panel, allowing the door to open automatically. A group of troopers were upon me; former marines now corrupted, perhaps by the very forces of Hell itself. My shotgun fired six times, then was silent. I breathed heavily, examining the carnage before me. Five former soldiers lay at rest on the ground, their blood intermingling, one's body still twitching with unnatural life. Given time, I gathered up what ammo I could, including twelve shotgun shells, and collected what armour plates that I could scavenged. It was then that I noticed the wound in my side, the military buckshot proved stronger than light Plasti-Steel, I would have to find something stronger soon, I doubted that the light armour would last much longer, even with replacement plates. Scouring through access hatches, I found a couple of vials of pain killers, it would have to do. I gulped the medicine down, tossing the empty bottle to the side. I pumped the shotgun once. I proceeded out the only exit, my hands nervously fingering the shaft of my shotgun. The pink horror threw me for a bit of a loop. I was beginning to understand how the others failed to survive. I entered into the reception area, now strewn with garbage and toxic waste. Barrels of the stuff had been sitting throughout the base, and I had now found their source. I took down three troops with three shots, my body becoming used to the combat, my mind processing maneuvers and tactics at a fantastic rate. Mistake number three. The ball of flame slammed into my chest, sending me up against the wall. More Hellspawn, this time in the form of brown, spiked humanoids. Two stood upon a raised platform, eyeing me maliciously. They both fired at me, their hands moving in intricate gestures before spouting gouts of flames. My body reacted instantaneously, sending me to the ground, rolling to the side. I sat up on my knees and fired five shots off in quick succession. Silence. The new creatures lay dead on the platform, or what I could take for being dead. Their blood oozed green and red, drugs pumped into my system to prevent the coming nausea. I grabbed a couple of clips and ran for the door. The door flew open before I reached the access panel. A bruiser of a marine stood before me, his skin gaunt and pastey white. With a twisted grimace, he leveled his shotgun and fired into my gut. Grunting in pain, I lunged myself forward, knocking his gun to the side. Stupidly, he turned to regain his weapon. I jammed the muzzle of my shotgun under his chin and squeezed the trigger. His head disappeared in a splash of red mist. Shouts were heard from inside. I fired blindly into the room, cursing at seeing my shot hit into a barrel of waste. Another brown imp came for me from across the darkened room. My body reacted before my mind could process conscious thought. A second shot rang out, followed by an explosion. The imp went flying into the opposite wall. Other screams of agony could be heard through a nearby grill. The barrels were explosive! My mind filed that tidbit of information away for instant recall. I may just need such heavy- handed tactics. A second grill stood beside the fallen imp, and I side- stepped over to place myself in front of the grill, firing another blind shot. Another explosion, then pain. Fiery acid flew into my face from an exploding barrel. I crumpled to the ground, screaming in agony, clawing at my face in blind rage and pain. I stood up shakily, holding the shotgun loosely before me. I staggered forward, the exit door to the first access tunnel lay before me. I found a medkit, an overglorified stimpack, hanging on a nearby wall, as well as the remains of a couple of stimpacks. I quickly dressed my wounds with bandages and Plasti-Flesh. I then sat down and examined the array of chemical enhancers that lay inside the medkit. "Fuck it." I said out loud, and pumped all the chemicals into my harness, to be regulated as needed by the micro-computers installed in the 'juice' harness. Picking myself up, I made my way to the exit airlock. The door slid open noisely, followed by a hissing scream. Another imp stood before me, somewhat surprised at my sudden appearance. His mistake. The shotgun fired twice, splitting the creature in half. I smiled and entered the airlock. Some scrap armour lay nearby, probably dumped by one of assaulting soldier I arrived with, as well as some dropped ammo. I loaded up as well as I could, waited for the air pressures to regulate, then I proceeded down the first access tunnel.