Death Battle Master Chief Vs Doomguy

"My life is yours, Esther, my heart belongs to you. You can do with it as you wish." ******* Two species are fighting for Dominance. Werewolves and vampires. Werewolves are under the protection of Dominic, the immortal lycan with an untraceble scent. Princess Esther is the only vampire who can trace the elusive Dominic's scent, because she is his mate. So, she has been given a task of finding him and killing him. Without Dominic, the werewolves would be vulnerable. Dominic needs to get rid of Esther to survive and continue to protect the werewolf species against vampires.

After the fire, my younger brother, Ethan Harper, and I have become comatose. Our own parents choose to deliver us to the rebirth trial. If we pass the trial, we'll regain consciousness and be granted a brand new life. The sensory caps are attached to our heads and soon connected to our brainwaves. Ethan chokes out, "Since Mom and Dad loves you so much, you'll definitely receive their votes, Emma." I turn to look at the judge instead. "After I'm reborn, can I request a new pair of parents? It's fine if the answer is no. My parents will still die, anyway."

My wife cheats on me after five years of marriage. Standing at the doorway, I hear her whisper to her lover in a soft voice, "What are you afraid of? He's broke and pathetic. Do you think that he dares to divorce me?" I tighten my grip on the lottery ticket in my hand. I have just won 60 million dollars a moment ago. This time, I will see who is the broke and pathetic one!

My sister-in-law keeps calling me a deadbeat, swearing I just drift around in slides with an iced drink glued to my hand. She's always stirring things up at home, running her mouth about me to my wife day after day. What she doesn't get is that this is just how landlords in Galanor roll.

On the day I go to the car dealership to pick up my car, I'm told that the previous salesperson has resigned, so a different salesperson will attend to me. Yet the first thing the salesperson does is say that I paid too little for the car and demand that I pay more to make up the difference. "The other salesperson is truly an idiot. How could he sell a car for 300 thousand dollars in cash? It's no wonder he got chewed out and quit. If you want to take the car, you'll have to switch to a five-year loan with an interest rate of 12%." I'm rendered speechless as he blatantly tries to extort me. "I've already paid and signed the sales contract. You're breaching the contract!" The salesperson scoffs. "So what? The car is with us anyway. If you're not going to pay the difference, don't even think of taking the car with you!" I can't help but chuckle. I calmly pull my phone out of my suit pocket. "Walter, place Mr. Paul Roland's loan application on hold for now. He's earning big bucks for his business. It seems like he doesn't need it anymore."

When I was seven years old, a handsome man Mom brought home gave me a box of mangoes. That day, Dad watched me happily eating the mangoes as he signed his name on the divorce agreement. Then, he jumped to his death. From that day on, mangoes became a lifelong nightmare for me. So, on our wedding day, I told my wife, Irene Johnson, "If you ever want a divorce, just give me a mango." She held me without saying a word. From that moment on, mangoes became forbidden for her as well. … On the fifth Christmas Eve after we got married, Irene's childhood sweetheart, Steven Carter, placed a mango on her desk. That same day, she announced that she was cutting ties with him and fired him from the company. That day, I felt that she was the woman destined for me. ... Six months later, I return from overseas after closing a billion-dollar deal. At the celebration dinner, Irene hands me a drink. After I drink half of it, Steven, the man who was kicked out of the company, stands behind me and grins. "Is the mango juice good?" he asks. I look at Irene in disbelief, but she is holding back a laugh. "Don't be mad. Steve insisted I play a joke on you. I didn't give you a mango, just a bottle of its juice. "But I think Steve is right. There's something wrong with you for not eating mangoes. Look at how much you enjoyed it just now!" she says. I keep a cold expression, raise my hand, and splash the remaining mango juice onto her face. Then, I turn and walk away. Some things are never a joke. Mangoes aren't, and neither is my decision to divorce.

Juliet Shaw finally married her heart's desire, only to discover after the wedding that her husband had long been cheating on her, with one of her own students no less. She had planned to seek revenge, but unexpectedly met a sudden and unexpected death. Having died once, she learned from her experiences. With a calm mind, Juliet Shaw decided to confront the mistress and even seduced her boyfriend. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth—it's only fair!

I lost my dear son, Henry, to a traffic accident. He had been on his way to one of his part-time jobs. Despite working a lot, my son was still a top scorer on the SATs. “Mom, I don’t want treatment,” he begged with his last breath. “I just want Dad.” In my despair, I called Matthew Foster, my husband, more than one hundred times, but he never answered. We had been married for eighteen years, but one day, he spent all of our savings in order to pay for the treatment of his deceased comrade’s son. That got us into a debt worth one million dollars. To help him pay for it, both Henry I and worked hard to earn money. My son went as far as working five part-time jobs a day! That accident cracked his head open and tore his stomach. He was in urgent need of money for treatment. Since Matthew was not responding, I had to leave Henry’s side to rush to his workplace, where I ended up hearing that he was throwing a party for someone else’s son because he had gotten into a prestigious school. “Mr. Foster gave Zack a seaside mansion, a luxury car, and a limitless black card in hopes that he will succeed in his future studies and have a smooth and healthy life.” As I watched my “poor” husband hug his comrade’s widow and son, I called him for the 101st time. “Henry wants to see you one last time.” “I’m busy right now, Wendy. Be good with Henry and wait a little while longer.” When Matthew hung up impatiently, I put down my phone in silence. I whispered, “Matthew, Henry can no longer wait for you.” At that moment, I decided that I was not going to wait for him anymore either.

My husband’s childhood friend was trapped in an elevator for half an hour. In his anger, he stuffed me inside a luggage bag and locked me inside. “You’re paying double for all the suffering Grace went through.” My body was forced into a curled-up state. I had a hard time breathing. I cried as I apologized, but all I got was my husband’s cold reproach. “You’re going through the entirety of this punishment. Once you’ve learned your lesson, you’ll behave.” He then locked the luggage bag in the closet. I screamed in despair and struggled to break free. My blood seeped out of the bag and soaked the floor. Five days later, he felt sorry for me and decided to end the punishment. “Let this punishment be a warning for you. This time, I’ll let you go.” Little did he know that my body was already rotting inside the luggage bag.

In my previous life, my husband had suddenly died of a brain hemorrhage, leaving behind a massive mountain of debt. For the sake of my son, who was still in high school, I sold the house my parents had left me, gritted my teeth, and worked three jobs to pay off the debt. Overworked and exhausted, my health deteriorated, and I eventually collapsed in the hospital. From my bed, I could hear my son, now a graduate from a prestigious university, smiling as he spoke on the phone. "Hello? Dad, it's me. Yeah, she's about to die. I bought insurance for her, so we should get close to one million. You and Aunt Rena should come back home right away." The "Aunt Rena" he spoke of was none other than my husband's childhood friend and neighbor who had known him for years. It turned out that the debts were all part of a massive money-laundering scheme between my husband and his childhood sweetheart. They had fabricated false accounts to hide their crime, and he had faked his death to escape the law. My son, eager to become the heir to wealth, had stood by and watched me work myself to death. When I next opened my eyes, I was back in the moment of my husband's feigned brain hemorrhage, the day it had all begun.