"Going behind enemy lines" is what we called it. My squad and I arrived together, with no supplies or weapons. Last I remembered we had been fighting a platoon of demons up at the outer ring, and then something fiery shrieked down out of the sky and exploded.
Killed every last one of us, but that's a minor setback. "Regroup!" the squad leader yells, and we line up. There's a constant flow of people here, getting herded into different groups by genuine pitchfork-wielding devils. Those guys are practically just accountants though. Where are the heavies?
"Men, it's an honor to go behind enemy lines with you," our leader says, "and I will remind you that we are fighting not just for the liberation of these damned souls but for our own immortality. It's all or nothing, hellfire or eternal life. I have orders to follow, in this particular situation. We are not to try and escape or cause general mayhem, but to quickly and efficiently secure this area. Do you understand?"
We all shout, and start planning. It makes sense; if we can get organized here where the dead arrive in Hell then we may be able to fight this war from both sides. And the lack of heavy Demons might mean we're already wearing them thin, so this could be enough to tilt things in our favor. One day this cavern will be cleaned up and air conditioned, it'll look like Grand Central Station instead of a volcano's asshole.
Soon we make our move, and start taking out devils. We suffer heavy losses, including myself - but it's not that much of a loss. The trident skewers me and I feel the worst pain I've ever experienced burn through me, but a few minutes later I'm picking myself up off the ground good as new. Rumor has it they've got pits of acid where they shove soldiers so that you can't ever get back on your feet, but I don't plan on letting them drag me to one.
Finally, when almost all of us are armed with stolen weapons and the remaining devils are running for it, a heavy shows up. It's not even a type I've seen before, it towers over everything like a colossus. Shit. Jenkins charges in and manages to stab at it's Achilles tendon, but it's like threatening an elephant with a toothpick. The beast stomps on Jenkins and he's gone, flattened and burning. Presumably he'll recover eventually but...
One by one we try to hurt it and fail. I manage to avoid being stomped but my trident is gone, and I'm out of ideas. This thing is unkillable.
Then the others start charging. The regular folks, old men and little girls and all the other confused and tormented souls waiting to be sorted. They start climbing it, and there's so many of them the thing doesn't even seem to know what to do. They're hitting it, ineffectually, with their fists and feet. Some have rocks, and one or two have even picked up tridents. It's not enough to kill the thing, but the demon is clearly feeling overwhelmed. It brushes a hundred people off, but they scramble right back. The ones that are too smashed to move are replaced by new souls, even some that are just now arriving.
I grab the trident I had dropped and start climbing. The mass of screaming, naked bodies should be horrifying but all I can feel is hope and inspiration. Reaching the thing's head, I swing out in front of it on a curved horn and slam my weapon right into its eye. The beast howls and falls, crushing hundreds below it. I roll free and by the time I stand I see some others from my squad are on top of it, stabbing its other eye. The whole cavern shakes, and then gets deathly silent.
The thing isn't moving, at all.
The human souls cheer, and some make a run for it. We start to try and wrangle the rest, organize them so we can secure the entrances and exits. We've got a beachhead now. Hell will have us to pay.
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