In hiding
About two hours had passed since the MRAP had been destroyed, forcing the trio of SP2 soldiers to flee on foot. An unknown enemy was still breathing down their necks, and the heavy gear they carried was hardly conducive to mobility. The situation was exacerbated by Ares' insistence on hauling the M2 heavy machine gun, which he flatly refused to leave behind, arguing the necessity of maximum firepower given their extremely limited ammunition for personal firearms.
"Ares, drop that fucking hunk of metal. It's slowing us down," David said irritably, glancing at the massive machine gun the soldier was lugging.
"David, if we have to fight right now, are you planning to beat those freaks with your rifle butt? You saw it yourself, regular bullets do abso-fucking-lutely nothing to them, but the .50 BMG works wonders. Plus, we've got a couple more boxes of ammo for it, so quit whining," Ares retorted.
"Fine, whatever," David sighed, realizing that arguing with Ares was utterly pointless. Even considering the soldier's enormous size, it was astonishing how much stubbornness he could pack into himself.
And so, they continued their journey through the ruined city. The landscape was eerily reminiscent of Earth in places: half-destroyed skyscrapers, seemingly from the last century, still loomed against the ominous red sky. Their walls were riddled with cracks, and the metal frames looked as though they’d endured multiple cataclysms. Yet, amidst the familiar features, there was always something alien. Strange carvings resembling eyes adorned the facades of many buildings. At times, it felt as if these structures were watching them. The massive pentagram in the sky only heightened the bizarre, unnatural atmosphere of this forsaken place.
"I really don’t like this place," Lewis complained once again.
"Yeah, yeah, we got it the first hundred times," Ares grumbled.
"And I take it you’re enjoying this place?" David teased with a smirk.
"I don't care where I am as long as I can turn the enemy into mincemeat," Ares grinned. "Though, I have to say, that fucking pentagram in the sky is unsettling. On the way here, I saw billboards with phrases like 'Punishment' or 'Eternal Torment'—you know, that kind of thing. Feels like we’ve landed in freakin' hell."
"Hell or not, we need to get out of here. Everything’s gone completely off plan. We were supposed to regroup as one big team at a single point, but now, who knows where we are," David said.
"The ground here matches the descriptions we got before the mission. It’s likely we’re still in the same area," Lewis commented.
"Alright, time for a break," David said after some time.
"Agreed, my legs are killing me," Lewis complained.
"Hey, who's hauling the machine gun here?" Ares quipped with a grin.
"Shut up. We need to find a spot, and I think that building at two o’clock looks good," David replied. "We'll set up on the second floor, with the machine gun at the window. It’ll make for a decent defensive position."
And so they did. After sweeping the building for any potential threats, the soldiers climbed to the second floor. The machine gun was set up at the window as planned. To their relief, the room on the second floor had a table and a few chairs, providing ample space for them to rest and eat. They unpacked their rations, lit a small fire, and began heating up their canned food. Once the food was ready, they sat at the table and started eating. As they munched on crackers with pâté and stew with porridge, they kept up a conversation.
"David, what do you think those things chasing us were? They didn’t look natural—more like aliens—but they spoke in what sounded like our language. I caught a word or two," Ares said, spreading pâté on a cracker.
"No idea, but it is strange. Their weapons looked suspiciously familiar, as did their vehicles. Something’s not right here," David replied thoughtfully.
"‘Not right’ is putting it mildly, considering the state of the streets here," Lewis attempted to joke.
"Ha, please, no more jokes," Ares shot back.
When the meal was finished, the soldiers organized watch shifts so everyone could get some rest and regain their strength.
"I’ll take the first shift," David volunteered. "I’ve got things to think about."
"Got it. I’ll take the second," Lewis responded.
"Ha, saving the best for me," Ares chuckled. "I’ll take over near dawn—if dawn even happens here."
"Let’s hope so," Lewis muttered, doubting he’d manage to sleep. Lewis sprawled out on the floor, using his backpack as a pillow. Ares, as usual, noisily settled into another corner of the room, tinkering with his gear. The metallic clinking of the bolt and the dull thuds of the weapon irritated Lewis.
"Hey, Ares, could you keep it down? Some of us are trying to rest here," he grumbled, closing his eyes.
"Chillaxe," Ares chuckled. "I’m just making sure I’m ready since I know you’ll probably spend your watch staring at the ceiling instead of the window."
"Your faith in me is touching," Lewis shot back, rolling onto his side.
Meanwhile, David took up a position by the window, silently watching the deserted streets. The crimson light of the sky and the distant sounds of explosions created a heavy atmosphere.
"David," Lewis called softly during a brief moment of silence in the room. "What do you think happened to the others?"
"I don’t know," David replied curtly, not taking his eyes off the grim scene outside. "But if any of them are alive, we’ll find them. Now sleep, Lewis. You’ll have plenty of time to ponder during your shift."
Reluctantly, Lewis closed his eyes, leaving David alone in the quiet.
Ares, finishing up with his weapon, glanced at David. "You know, you’re way too serious sometimes. You could crack a joke or two to lighten the mood."
"My jokes stop where the risk to our lives begins," David replied sternly.
"Come on. If we really are in hell, jokes wouldn’t hurt," Ares smirked, settling into a comfortable position.
David simply sighed, continuing his watch.
After some time, the convoy of two MRAPs came to a halt. Continuing the journey felt like a pointless waste of the limited fuel they had, especially with no concrete leads regarding the whereabouts of the remaining four soldiers. Sergeant Edward sat in the second vehicle, diligently attempting to pick up any signal from the beacon installed in each of the unit's vehicles. Simultaneously, Harper was analyzing the data from the drone. The squad had a detailed map of the area within a few kilometers, but the city was massive. The map only covered the hotel, the ruined zone, and a few densely populated districts of Pentagram City.
The captain stepped out of the first vehicle, slamming the door loudly. He leaned against the car as usual, took out a pack of cigarettes, and lit one. His thoughts were entirely consumed by the four missing soldiers: Ares, David, Lewis, and... Levon—numbers six, seven, eight, and nine of the SP2 unit. The captain remembered the names of every one of his soldiers, a trait that set him apart from many other commanders.
As often happened, the captain’s stream of thoughts was interrupted by Sergeant Edward. The captain smirked slightly as he watched Edward climb out of the second vehicle. “Some things never change,” the captain muttered with a faint smile. “What’s the situation, Sergeant? Any news?”
“Yes, sir! I’ve picked up a signal from one of our MRAPs. The drone is actively scanning the search area. The signal is confirmed to be coming from the outskirts of the ruined zone where we found SP2. The drone should soon pinpoint the exact coordinates. For now, we should start heading in that direction,” Edward reported.
“I’m not even sure if I need to give any orders at this point,” the captain joked, acknowledging the sergeant's thorough report, which already included an action plan. “Let’s move out.”
The convoy resumed its journey, slowly navigating through the outskirts of the ruined zone. This time, the tension was palpable. Every sound outside—whether it was a falling stone or a gust of wind—made the soldiers instinctively tense up. No one knew what lay ahead, but everyone understood the risk was high.
Sitting in the passenger seat of the first MRAP, the captain silently observed the tablet screen. The drone’s camera feed displayed an aerial view: ruined buildings, heaps of rubble, and narrow alleys that looked like deadly traps. With each meter, the vehicle drew closer to the source of the signal.
“Captain, the signal is getting stronger,” Edward’s voice came through the comms. “We’re almost there. Coordinates confirmed: the vehicle is located in the far corner of the ruined district.”
“What about the surroundings?” Captain Andrew asked without looking up from the tablet.
“Visually, everything seems clear, but… it’s too quiet. The drone hasn’t detected any signs of activity, which is unusual for areas like this,” Harper replied, sitting at the console in the first vehicle.
“Silence here is rarely a good sign,” the captain muttered, more to himself than anyone else. “Edward, keep the drone in the air until we arrive. Let it continue scanning.”
“Understood, Captain,” the sergeant responded.
After a few minutes, the convoy entered a particularly narrow section. The tall walls of ruined buildings almost completely obscured the view on either side. Harper slowed down to avoid collisions with the debris.
“I see our target,” she said, pointing to the drone’s camera feed. On the screen, a half-destroyed vehicle appeared—the MRAP from their squad. Its rear was mangled, evidently from a projectile hit. One of its back wheels was flat, while the other was completely gone. The vehicle looked as if it had been abandoned in a hurry. However, the turret-mounted machine gun was missing.
“Good. Let’s hurry and assess the situation,” the captain said.
Twenty minutes later, the convoy reached the damaged MRAP. It was tilted to the side, its rear almost completely destroyed, with the rest of the body scorched and pockmarked with shrapnel marks. What immediately caught their attention were the tire tracks leading from the vehicle deeper into the ruined district. The tracks were deep and gouged into the asphalt, indicating the vehicle had turned at full speed. Marks on the wall of a nearby building suggested it had scraped against it during the maneuver. A few dozen meters away from the MRAP were the charred remains of two vehicles, grim evidence of a recent battle. The hulking bullet holes in their bodies suggested hits from a heavy machine gun, likely an M2 Browning mounted on their MRAPs.
The captain stepped out of the vehicle and surveyed the scene. “No bodies from our team—this is promising,” he said. “Search the area. Harper, Ward, check the vehicle; there might be clues about the soldiers’ location.”
“Cap, no signs of life in the enemy vehicles,” Jason reported. “Our guys handled it cleanly, as always.”
Harper struggled to open the jammed door of the damaged MRAP. It gave way with a sharp screech, and Harper cautiously peeked inside, careful not to brush against the jagged edges of the metal. The interior was charred, some of the equipment completely melted, and the seats were little more than charred frames. The acrid smell of burnt material mingled with the metallic tang of blood that lingered in the air.
“Damn, this place is a wreck,” she muttered, switching on the flashlight attached to her rifle and starting to examine the interior. “Ward, cover me. I’ll see if there’s anything useful.”
“Got it,” the sergeant replied briefly, taking up a position by the door and keeping a vigilant watch on the surroundings.
Harper’s eyes quickly scanned the interior. Her attention was drawn to a tablet mounted on the dashboard. The screen was cracked, but the device seemed to have some life left in it. She carefully removed it and examined it.
“Find anything?” the captain asked, approaching the vehicle.
“A tablet, Cap. I’ll try to power it on—maybe there’s a record of the route,” Harper replied.
“Make it quick; I don’t like how quiet it is here,” the captain said.
After five minutes of unsuccessful attempts to turn on the tablet, Harper finally reported to the captain.
“Cap, the tablet’s too damaged from the fire. The display is completely dead, even though the power seems to be on. We’ll need replacement parts or specialized equipment to extract the data,” she said.
“Damn it,” the captain swore. “Looks like we’ll have to head back to the hotel to retrieve the data...”
Despite the presence of soldiers in the hotel, the day passed relatively normally. Charlie and Vaggie were going about their routine tasks, and Angel eventually went off to work. The SP2 soldiers remaining in the hotel sat in the living room.
"So, who's gonna risk taking the first sip?" – broke the silence Henry, the grenadier of the second squad, after the demon who had offered the coffee left the room.
"Why don't you try it yourself?" – asked Nick, the third member of the squad, with a smirk.
"Well, you know, not every day does a damn demon offer you coffee," – replied Henry.
The argument was interrupted by a strange sound from the other end of the room. Everyone turned and saw Logan, the machine gunner, calmly drinking the offered beverage. "Just regular coffee," – he said calmly.
"Logan, I knew you were reckless, but I didn't think you'd be completely lacking any sense of self-preservation..." – said Lucas, astonished.
"Shit, the girl brought you regular coffee, and you started your conspiracy theories," – grumbled Logan. "If they wanted to harm us, they had the chance. Yeah, yeah, Nick, I'm talking about you. Besides, I doubt they'd offer medical help to Sarge if they had any bad intentions," – concluded the machine gunner.
"I don't know, they're still demons, I don't trust them one bit," – said Lucas. "That spider, even worse, he never missed a chance to make some sex joke, and on top of that, he asked some really FUCKED UP questions," – he finished.
"Well, apart from his dirty comments, I found him harmless," – said Nick. "Even though he has six arms."
"Yeah, and the one that poked you with a spear, you think she's harmless too?! Her fucking stare says she’s gonna jump on you any moment. And the worst part is, SHE FUCKING REMINDS ME OF HARPER!!!" – shouted Lucas.
The room filled with laughter at Lucas's comment. Indeed, it was often said that Harper was the proud owner of a pair of steel lady balls. "Alright, now that's scary," – Henry said, choking on his laughter.
"Alright, guys, enough," – finally intervened Logan. "Let's think about how we're gonna survive here while the captain and the others are gone. By the way, has anyone seen Halo?"
"He left somewhere right after the captain left," – said Nick. "And I think I heard the sound of an elevator."
"Got it, always wandering around. I bet 10$ he went outside to pray," – joked Lucas.
"VAGGIE, HOLY SHIT!" – Charlie shouted, bursting into the penthouse with such force that the doors almost came off their hinges.
"Whoa, whoa, Charlie, what's going on?" Vaggie asked, surprised, jumping up from her chair.
Charlie took a few deep breaths, her face showing an unnatural expression.
"I... I just talked to a PRIEST!" she said with excitement.
"A priest? And what did you talk about?" Vaggie asked, with a note of wariness.
"Yeah, about different things!" Charlie began. "I asked him how people become priests, the reasons behind it, and just about life on Earth! Can you believe it? Apparently, they're not appointed by Heaven! They make the decision themselves – to serve the light. I'm just in shock!"
"Honestly... I've never personally met a priest," Vaggie admitted. "Although I've heard a lot about them, but the fact that they choose to serve Heaven... This is new to me."
"Wait, you've never seen a priest? They're everywhere on Earth!" Charlie asked, astonished.
Vaggie froze for a moment, not knowing what to say. "I... My family was far from religious," she tried to justify herself. Fortunately, this answer was enough for Charlie.
"You really should talk to him sometime! At first, he seemed strict, but he's actually really kind and wise!!! Vaggie, he even told me about how he lived on Earth before he came to Hell. It's such a sad story, he lost everyone, but in the end, he managed to get back on his feet. It's so inspiring!" Charlie babbled without pause, needing to take a few deep breaths at the end of her sentence.
"Charlie, I'm really glad you found a common language with the priest, but still, be careful, we're demons to him, and Hell is the complete opposite of everything he serves," Vaggie expressed her concern.
"You don't understand, Vaggie! He knows who I am. He knows that I'm the daughter of LUCIFER! And yet, he made it clear that it doesn't matter! He treated me not like a spawn of darkness, but as a person!!! I still can't believe it..." she said.
"Damn..." Vaggie muttered in surprise. A priest who wasn't put off by the fact that he was talking to the literal Antichrist.
"And the most important thing... I told him about the exterminators, about the exorcists, and about my idea for the hotel!" Charlie began, but was interrupted by Vaggie.
"You told him about the exterminators? The hotel? Charlie, I think that was a bad idea..." Vaggie said, with wary doubt.
"Honestly, I don't understand why, but standing in front of him, I had this overwhelming urge to tell him about it. Maybe it's some kind of holy magic... BUT, after he heard about the hotel idea, about the redemption of sinners, he didn't laugh, he took it seriously. Moreover, HE EVEN SAID IT'S POSSIBLE, QUOTING THE BIBLE! Vaggie, this is just incredible!!!" Charlie exclaimed, her joy almost shouting.
"This is just... hard to wrap my head around," Vaggie slowly said, still trying to process the flood of information from Charlie. She ran a hand over her forehead, looking tense.
"I know, it sounds crazy!" Charlie blurted out, her eyes shining. "But it's true, Vaggie! He believes that even demons deserve a chance. Can you imagine? This is a man who lived his life serving Heaven, and still, he sees us... as individuals!"
Vaggie crossed her arms, her tense gaze fixed on her friend. "Charlie, are you sure he wasn't trying to get something out of you? Or..." She hesitated for a moment, choosing her words. "Maybe this was an attempt to use you for some purpose?"
"No! He's not like that," Charlie answered firmly, her voice serious. "His words, his look... everything was sincere. He wasn't trying to manipulate me. It felt so... righteous."
"Righteous..." Vaggie repeated, lowering her gaze. Her voice grew quieter, almost a whisper. "Do you realize how this sounds?"
"But it's possible!" – Charlie said, her enthusiasm burning. "Vaggie, don't you see? This is exactly what I'm trying to achieve. If even a priest can believe that sinners deserve a second chance, then why can't we show everyone else that it's real?"
Veggie sighed, her face softened, but the doubts remained. "Charlie... what if he doesn't accept the others? What if he sees the others and... and just decides they're monsters?"
Charlie paused, her joyful expression dimming slightly. "I don't know," – she answered honestly. "But isn't it a risk worth taking? If we can prove that even beings like us can be more than just demons or sinners, it could change everything."
"Maybe," Vaggie said cautiously. "But what if you're wrong about him?"
Charlie looked directly at her, her face serious. "If I'm wrong, we'll find out. But I can't just turn away from this chance, Vaggie. This is what I've been working for. This is our chance to show that Hell can be something more."
Vaggie sighed, rubbed her temples, as if trying to calm herself, and then weakly smiled. "You're incorrigible, you know?"
"I know," Charlie smiled back, relaxing. Her tone became lighter, almost playful. "And that's exactly why you love me!"
Vaggie rolled her eyes, but the corners of her mouth twitched, giving way to a faint smile.
The night in the ruined city was quiet enough. No gunfire, no explosions, or other loud noises. Ares would have continued his sweet sleep if it hadn't been for the rude intervention of one of his always-ruining-the-fun comrades.
"What the fuck do you want..." Ares grumbled discontentedly.
"Get up, sleepyhead. I could let you sleep through all the fun, but that would be too cruel," replied Lewis.
Ares immediately jumped up, a bloodthirsty grin spreading across his face. "Who are we killing?" he asked in anticipation.
"Not anyone just yet, but David spotted a group of creatures dangerously close. If we're lucky, they'll pass by, if not..." said Lewis, but was immediately interrupted by Ares.
"In that case, I sincerely hope we don’t get lucky," Ares said, pulling out a Beretta from his holster.
Lewis sighed, looking at Ares with obvious irritation.
"Do you ever think with your head? If these creatures spot us, they'll shred us before you even make your first shot."
"So what? Better to die in battle than die of boredom," Ares shrugged, checking the rounds in his magazine.
Lewis shook his head and turned to David, who, pressed against the window frame, was observing the street. His silhouette almost blended with the shadows, and his movements were precise and silent.
"David, what’s going on?" Lewis whispered quietly, trying not to reveal his presence.
"A group of eight creatures. Demons, probably of lower rank. But they're moving in an organized manner," David whispered, not taking his eyes off what was happening outside. "Looks like they're patrolling."
"Patrol?" Ares snorted. "So, we’re going to take out scouts too? This day is getting better and better."
"Shut up, Ares," Lewis snapped, but quickly returned his voice to a whisper. "We have limited ammo and no guarantee that more of them won’t come running when they hear the noise."
"You're like an old granny," Ares smirked, but luckily for everyone, fell silent.
David made a gesture, signaling for everyone to freeze. Heavy footsteps could be heard approaching. The patrol was getting closer. Lewis and Ares held their breath, freezing in place.
"They’re too close," David barely whispered, stepping back from the window. "If we make any noise, they’ll definitely find us."
"Then maybe we should just meet them face-to-face?" Ares spoke up again, his eyes burning with excitement.
"Enough," Lewis sharply cut him off. "We have two options: either we stay quiet, or we die like heroes."
"Fine, screw you, I'll fight later," Ares said with a hint of disappointment.
"Thank God..." Lewis sighed in relief.
The heavy footsteps grew louder. The group froze, holding their breath. Lewis gestured for Ares and David to take positions along the room's walls, as far from the window as possible. He himself slowly knelt down, listening carefully to the sounds coming from outside.
David carefully lifted a mirror attached to a piece of metal to take a look outside without revealing their presence. The demons were already within view.
"Eight. Two in front, four in the middle, two bringing up the rear," he whispered, putting the mirror down. "They all have weapons, but nothing too serious."
"Nothing serious?" Ares quietly mimicked him. "Did they come with knives?"
"No, just light firearms," David cut him off without looking back.
The footsteps stopped directly in front of the building. One of the demons, judging by the sound, approached the door. In the silence, a metallic scraping noise could be heard – he was checking the lock.
"If they come in, we're done," Lewis whispered.
"We can just slit the first one’s throat who enters," Ares whispered hoarsely, clearly enjoying the idea.
"If you do that, the others will open fire immediately," Lewis whispered in response. "We have to wait. Maybe they'll just pass by."
David gestured to get their attention. He pointed to the opposite corner of the room, where a small hatch in the floor was visible.
"We'll hide here," he whispered silently, just moving his lips.
Lewis nodded and began gesturing to explain the plan: slowly and quietly open the hatch, go down, and sneak around the patrol from the other side. Ares clearly wanted to argue, but luckily kept quiet.
David approached the hatch first and began cautiously opening it, trying not to make any noise. Lewis covered him while Ares reluctantly took a position near the exit.
Meanwhile, outside, one of the demons' voices could be heard:
"No one's here. Let's move on."
The footsteps started to fade away, but none of the three relaxed their vigilance.
"Hurry up," Lewis whispered, nudging Ares toward the hatch.
When the last one disappeared under the floor, the hatch slowly closed. Lewis glanced at his comrades once more.
"Well, we're lucky for now, I hope they don’t check here..."
"We’ll see," Ares smirked, still holding his Beretta. "You'll see, we’ll fight again."
When the sound of engines revving echoed outside and it became clear that the captain and his squad were returning, Charlie quickly ran downstairs. Father Miguel was already waiting by the entrance, clearly expecting the group's arrival. The SUV stopped in front of the hotel, and the sound of the doors opening could be heard. Andrew stepped out first, scanning the surroundings with a tense expression. Edward and several other soldiers followed, one of whom was carefully carrying a damaged tablet. The vehicle looked battered, just like the soldiers, but none of them were in a hurry to share the results of their search.
"How did it go, Captain?" Miguel asked in his deep voice.
"Not great," Andrew admitted. "We found one of the vehicles, but it was clearly being chased, and the trail of the soldiers disappears there."
He nodded to a soldier, who showed the tablet. "The only thing that might lead us to them is this tablet. But there's a problem – the screen isn’t working," Jason reported.
"Understood..." Miguel said with a hint of disappointment. The lack of significant results clearly bothered him.
Charlie quietly observed, trying not to get involved, but her constant desire to help everyone didn’t allow her to remain silent for long.
"Maybe the tablet can be fixed?" she suggested enthusiastically, stepping forward.
Andrew threw a quick glance at her, clearly not expecting such a suggestion.
"Only if you have a workshop and someone who knows how to fix these things," he grumbled, clearly tired from the long operation.
Father Miguel thoughtfully examined the damaged tablet.
"This isn’t simple tech. These devices are more protected than civilian models. It requires a specific set of tools and components. Though, civilian components should work fine," Miguel said.
"Angel's boss works with someone who handles almost all the modern tech in Hell," Charlie said, clearly trying to avoid the word 'demon', although, to be fair, being polite to Vox was unnecessary.
The captain looked at her skeptically. "The last thing we need is to hand military technology over to a demon," he retorted.
"I don’t think we’ll need to give it to him. Perhaps Angel can get the necessary components and tools. However, it will take some time," Charlie said calmly.
Her words slightly reassured the captain, but he still asked, "How long will this take?"
"Hard to say, maybe a day, maybe several," Charlie awkwardly replied. "But without this information, you probably won’t be able to find the others, just waste energy and resources, which are already limited."
The captain chewed on his lip, thought for a moment, and realizing he had no real alternative, agreed. "Fine, call your Angel."