After slaying your first bushel of bulbous Cacodemons, you'll realize that you've been honing the skills needed to down these big red blimps just by mowing down the previous enemy types. But doing so ensures certain death, so you're forced to adapt. The Cacodemon's cyclopean glowing eye, ominous blue-mouthed grin, and sheer size - often taking up a huge chunk of your screen - can make even the hardiest space marine freeze in terror at first sight. Cacodemons are like Imps on steroids, spewing fireballs at a faster rate and surviving way more punishment.

Cacodemonįun fact: the original Cacodemon design is heavily based on the cover art from a Dungeons and Dragons manual (which I highly doubt id ever paid royalties for).

The new Doom gives you another option: set it up for a melee execution with a few potshots, then force-feed it its own explosive heart for gut-busting results. Best to plug its rippling belly with some shotgun or chaingun rounds, saving those rockets for rooms full of lesser enemies. It becomes apparent - probably after a few instances of kamikaze-esque self-disintegration - that trying to blast a Mancubus with rockets from point-blank will kill the both of you in a hurry. The concept of extra damage invisibly radiating out from a rocket's point of impact is a basic FPS law we know and love now, but in Doom's day, it was a principle that had to be learned. Fighting the Mancubus is the organic tutorial to the ins and outs of splash damage, given how it fights with - and is easily killed by - rockets. Turns out, it's even worse when they've got two rocket launchers for arms and a limitless supply of ammunition.

For most people, the sight of a naked, grotesquely obese man with elephant legs is not their idea of a good time.

Doom 4 all demons