Author's Notes:

Alright, if you've read this before, you're probably wondering what the fuck is happening here, so let me take the time to explain real quick.

See, this was my first fic ever posted on the site. It showed, full of inconsistent tenses, questionable word choices, glaring grammar mistakes, and other such first time errors.

For fucks sake, I legit used "get's" at one point, and there's no fucking excuse for that.

So, I went back and proofread the whole thing in one sitting. The overall plot has been maintained, however, so there's no need to go back and reread it all.

But then that brings us to this.

See, I originally planned for this fic to have a sequel later on, which would've been another crossover, this time with Twisted Metal. However, this idea never got off the drawing board for me, and eventually I just announced its cancellation in a blog.

But then while proofreading this, I remembered that the cliffhanger was still here, as part of the epilogue, for a story that would no longer exist. So, I decided to fix the issue, and replaced it with something a little different.

I hope you enjoy, whether this is your first time reading or you came back to this.

Grimm did not know how long it has been since he left Equestria. He still could remember the faces and names of the ponies he met, even if only for a day, but as time went on, they had started to slip his mind.

At some point, the rage had overtaken him, and he lost himself entirely to the bloodlust. However, he allowed himself not to be blinded by it, but to embrace it. To use it as a tool, rather than a hindrance.

Of course, Discord working a large portion of his chaos magic into a suit of armor specifically for him helped matters.

While the spirit of chaos had seemingly vanished after the armor's creation, Grimm had also stopped contact with Equestria. This was largely because he found himself much too engorged in purging the fires of Hell of anything and everything demonic.

Time started to blur as his one-man crusade continued. He wasn't sure what exactly Discord did to the armor, but he felt better than he ever did while rampaging. Somehow, he could find himself drawing strength from every demon he crushed underfoot, and he was capable of taking more punishment than he could before. Not only that, but it felt like he never had to satisfy bodily needs, such as hunger or sleep.

As long as he kept killing, he could keep going.

Of course, the demons didn't take this lying down. They started attacking in far larger numbers, seemingly redirecting every denizen of Hell towards the goal of taking down the unstoppable force that was John Grimm.

Days dragged into weeks, weeks dragged into months, and months stretched into countless years of slaughter, the fires of Hell starting to die down from the blood of its inhabitants.

Even the demons' ultimate warrior, standing over 12 times the size of the marine, proved to be no match for the marine.

The killing lasted so long that the demons themselves began to fear Grimm. Everywhere he went, death and destruction followed.

He was feared.

He was unstoppable.

His thirst for demon blood was unquenchable.

The demons could only agree on a single name for him:

The Doom Slayer.