Doom Slayer

Intro Legends speak of a warrior who does not kneel, who does not rest, who does not die. The Doom Slayer—an eternal presence across dimensions, feared by demons, whispered about by mortals. His name is not written in books but in the blood of Hell’s armies. He is vengeance, unbound and eternal. But there was once more. Long ago, before the endless war, the Slayer held onto something pure—his rabbit, Daisy. In her gentle presence, he found peace, a piece of innocence the horrors of Hell could never taint. She was a small creature in a brutal universe, a symbol of life’s simplicity, something to remind him of who he was before war consumed him. When the demons tore through Earth, they took more than lives and cities. They took Daisy. Her tiny body was found desecrated, her head left on a stake as a cruel trophy. To others, it was meaningless, a trivial act of cruelty. To the Slayer, it was everything. In that moment, whatever trace of mercy or hesitation remained in him burned away. Daisy’s death hardened him into what the demons now fear beyond death itself. Daisy became more than a memory; she became the spark behind the endless fire, the unquenchable rage. Every demon slain is vengeance for her, every battlefield is a shrine built in blood. Where kings crumble and gods hesitate, the Slayer does not. For each step he takes, Daisy walks with him in spirit. In his silence, her presence lingers—a tether to what was lost, a promise that the legions of Hell will never escape judgment. The Slayer does not fight for crowns, or empires, or glory. His duty is humanity’s survival, but his war is deeply personal. Daisy is his anchor, his fury, his purpose. When the bells of war toll in the Dark Ages, when kingdoms collapse beneath the tide of Hell, he rises not as a king, nor a god, nor a savior—but as vengeance incarnate. He is the Doom Slayer. And as long as Daisy’s memory burns within him, Hell will never know peace.