Doom OST — Sibling Rivalry
In the animal experimentation lab, Reaper and Goat were still puzzling over the dead scientist. And the rats on the floor he’d bitten in half.
Reaper shook his head. He wanted to move on. Get to the bottom of this — and get the hell out of the room. He called Sarge on the comm, wondering what they should do, if anything, with Olsen’s body. “Sarge — should we bag him and tag him?”
Goat was looking at something different on the floor now. A shadow, lengthening, twisting. Cast by something behind…
"Negative," Sarge was saying. "Continue your search."
But Reaper wasn’t listening anymore. The low, wet rasping sound from behind him had his full attention. He caught Goat’s eye, who nodded; their fingers tensed on the triggers of their weapons —
And they spun, firing at something just glimpsed in the dim farther reaches of the cluttered room. It roared in fury, wounded, and retreated, around a row of cages.
Reaper just made out something bigger than a man, rippling with muscles. Dark, scaly skin — and a leg iron, its chain broken, locked around its ankle — and then it was gone from their line of sight.
They advanced on the row of cages it’d vanished behind.
"Shoot-pause-enter," Reaper said. A standard tactic. Goat nodded.
They jumped around the corner, firing — nothing. It’d moved on, through the open door into the corridor. They shoved fresh clips into their guns, and Reaper lead the way into the hallway — empty. Nothing. Except black blood on the floor.
"Reaper," said Sarge on the comm, "what’ve you got?"
"We’re chasing something," Reaper replied. It seemed as if every second light was out in this corridor. The long hall was paced by pools of shadow that were darker than they should naturally be.
"What do you mean, ‘something’?" Sarge asked on the comm.
"Something big! Not human!"
It was quiet. The only sound was water dripping somewhere.
Moving with Goat down the corridor between the animal experimentation room and the genetics lab, slipping carefully from pool of shadow to pool of light and back into shadow, Reaper felt a strange disquiet flutter its leathery wings at the back of his mind.
Nothing surprising in Reaper feeling worried, right now. He was on an alien planet where his parents had died; there were unknown antagonists making cool, rational scientists crazed enough to rip off their own ears and throw them, and that severed arm hadn’t been terribly reassuring.
But he was used to risk, uncertainty. Unseen killers hunting him.
It took him a while to figure out what that particular odd nagging at the back of his head was….then it hit him:
He was worried about Sam. Carmack was dangerous — hell, this whole place was dangerous. He wasn’t there to protect her. For years, he’d blocked all thought of her well-being from his mind….
But now that he’d seen her again, it was hard to go off on a mission and just assume that his sister was going to be safe here.
Stay professional, he warned himself. She’ll be okay. Duke’s with her. He’s a good man. Better behave himself though, or I’ll…
He pointed at a display of fossils — specifically at a preserved humanoid skeleton curled protectively around the skeleton of a child. “What the fuck is that?”
"That’s Lucy." She turned to the fossil and pretended to introduce Reaper. "Lucy, this is my brother, John, someone else from the long-lost past."
He pretended to ignore this, but the shot went home anyway. He had been deliberately out of touch with her for years, partly because of the Olduvai thing. Partly because she had strongly disapproved of his career direction. “A sad waste of talent,” was the nicest thing she’d said about it.