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Junkertown was never quiet. The usual sounds of metal on metal, engines roaring, and the occasional blast of explosives filled the air. But tonight, in the outskirts of the city, there was a strange stillness that even Roadhog could sense. He made his way down a narrow, winding path littered with broken machinery, his heavy boots crunching on the gravel, his eyes scanning the darkness ahead.
He wasn’t afraid of the dark—Roadhog feared nothing. But this night felt different somehow. He could smell the usual stench of rust and oil, but it seemed sharper tonight, almost metallic. It was like a warning. His breathing mask, which he never left home without, hissed with every breath. The toxic gas flowing into his lungs provided a semblance of comfort.
"Just another night in Junkertown," he muttered to himself, his voice low and gravelly. Yet something in his gut told him that tonight would be anything but ordinary.
The moon was low in the sky, casting a pale, sickly light over the piles of junk and twisted metal. The shadows were long and deep, flickering at the edges as if they were alive. Roadhog gripped his chain hook tighter, feeling the weight of his scrap gun against his side. He was almost there, to his lair, a place where he could rest and escape the chaos of the world.
As he turned the corner, he noticed something in the darkness. A pair of glowing orbs was hovering just above the ground, faint but unmistakable. Roadhog stopped, his heartbeat slowing down a bit. He knew these streets like the back of his hand, every pile of junk, every crevice, every shadow. But he'd never seen eyes like these before.
They blinked, and then another set appeared beside them, and then a third. Three pairs of glowing eyes were fixed on him, unblinking and unwavering. The figure emerged from the shadows, slowly at first, then more quickly. He was a massive, three-headed Doberman, his fur black as the void. The creature was silent and moved with a grace that seemed out of proportion to his size.
Roadhog snorted, unimpressed. “You lost, mutt?” he grumbled, raising his scrap gun.
The creature didn't respond the way you'd normally expect. Instead, Roadhog heard a voice inside his head, not in words but in emotions and memories. “Lost? No. Found. "You, Hog of the Road, are found."
Roadhog narrowed his eyes. He'd faced a lot in his time—bandits, robots, Omnics, and worse—but nothing like this. The dog, no, the demon, seemed to step between dimensions as it moved, one moment in the light, the next in the shadows, his form flickering like a half-forgotten dream.
“What do you want?” Roadhog growled, more out of instinct than fear.
"What I want... is what is already mine," the voice answered, seeping into Roadhog's mind like a memory he couldn't quite grasp.
The hellhound took another step forward, his three heads moving in unison, nostrils flaring as if catching a scent. Roadhog’s finger itched to pull the trigger, but something held him back, a primal instinct that told him bullets wouldn’t be enough.
"Not for sale," Roadhog muttered, feeling a cold sweat under his mask.
“Sale? No. Trade? No. Take? Yes.”
The words echoed through Roadhog's mind, accompanied by a feeling that this encounter was already inevitable, as if it had already happened in a past that he had forgotten.
The demon dog made a sudden move. Roadhog was quick on his feet, swinging his chain hook towards the beast, but the hellhound disappeared into the shadows just before the hook could connect. He reappeared behind him, his jaws snapping inches from his back. Roadhog spun around and fired his scrap gun, sending pellets flying in a wide arc.
The creature dodged again, vanishing into the darkness, but then reappeared from another shadow, closer this time. Roadhog could feel his breath on his neck, hot and unpleasant, like the stench of rotting flesh. The light above them flickered, and for a brief moment, Roadhog saw the beast's true form—rotting skin, exposed bone, and eyes that burned with an unnatural light.
"You're a stubborn one," Roadhog grunted, sweat dripping down his face inside the mask. He fired again, but the hellhound easily avoided each shot by skilfully moving through the shadows.
“I am… determined,” the voice echoed in his mind, closer now, more insistent. "As are you." But tonight, determination is not enough.”
The hellhound lunged at Roadhog, and this time, the massive enforcer was ready for it. He swung his hook wide, catching the creature in midair and slamming him into the ground with a force that would have crushed a lesser being. The ground shook with the impact, and for a moment, everything was quiet.
Roadhog stood over the beast, breathing heavily, his mask hissing with each intake of air. He expected it to be over. But the hellhound simply stared up at him with those three pairs of glowing eyes, unblinking, unafraid. Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, he began to rise, his bones creaking and his skin tearing further, yet he moved as if unharmed.
Before Roadhog could react, the hellhound lunged again, this time faster than before, with three heads snapping in unison. One head latched onto his arm, another onto his leg, and the third went for his mask. Roadhog let out a roar, attempting to shake the beast off.
In the fight, the hellhound got hold of the last of his gas canisters. With a triumphant growl, he tore the container free and bit down hard. The canister ruptured, spraying its contents into the air. The toxic gas, which normally would have been a weapon in Roadhog’s hands, now filled the space around him, its effects disorienting even to him.
The demon dog took a deep breath, enjoying the noxious fumes. "Ah... fuel for the hog," the voice in Roadhog's mind said, sounding almost satisfied. Roadhog was disoriented and stumbled backward, falling face first to the ground. The hellhound stood over him, his forepaws pressing down on his back, pinning him with an almost contemptuous ease.
Roadhog struggled, but the weight of the beast was too much. He could feel the darkness closing in, and the gas and the creature's presence were both draining his strength. His vision blurred as the demon dog's shadow fell over him. In his mind, the voice spoke again, this time quieter and more intimate.
"You fight well, Hog of the Road. But this night is mine."
Roadhog’s last ounce of strength ebbed away, and his body slumped to the ground. The hellhound’s three heads loomed over him, victorious, his eyes burning with an eerie glow. Roadhog’s vision darkened further, and all he could feel was the weight of the beast pressing him into the dirt.
But the Hellhound was far from finished. The victory over Roadhog had awakened something in him. And now that something needed a valve. With an unnatural grin on his maws, the Hellhound looked down at the defeated enforcer. The pants had been torn in the fight and the demon had just the right idea how to plug that hole...
As Roadhog lay beneath the Hellhound, beaten and gasping for breath, a single thought pushed through the fog in his mind - a promise to himself. Never tell anyone. He knew Junkertown was full of scavengers, raiders and lunatics, but none of them needed to know that Roadhog, the unstoppable brute, had been defeated by something from the Shadow Realm...
...when the next morning dawned after that long night they had spent with each other, the harsh light of reality returned. Roadhog lay silently on his back. He slowly pulled himself to his feet, and winced from the pain in his limbs. The demon was gone, but the memory of his voice, those eyes and the crushing presence remained with him.
He looked around the empty wasteland, saw the piles of junk and the town beyond and felt small for once. The world seemed different now - darker, more dangerous. But Roadhog was still here, still standing, and that was all that mattered.
With a grunt, he adjusted his mask. His heavy footsteps echoed in the morning silence as he stomped back to Junkertown. Whatever had happened last night would stay buried deep inside him, where no one could find it.
Roadhog smirked under his mask and shrugged off the remaining tension. Never tell anyone. It was a simple promise, but one he knew he would keep.
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Drawn by
\n\t\t\t\t\tfurryratchetRoadhog by Blizzard Entertainment
Pattarchus (Three-headed Doberhellhound) (c) by
\n\t\t\t\t\tPattarchus)If this commission has captured your attention or sparked any thoughts, I warmly encourage you to leave a comment, share your views, or simply leave a favourite or a watch. Your thoughts and reactions are very appreciated!
Creepy comments are welcome!
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