Who: Kanan, Dutch and Wash When: Way early last Saturday morning when the Rifts started opening What: Strigoi gotta die Where: All night grocery and drug store Rating: High for violence Status: Complete!
Dutch had been out running errands when it happened. She didn’t actually see the rift tear open. It took the baddies pouring out to catch her attention. Like most people, Dutch didn’t run errands armed, but like some sort of paranoid nut she carried her sword and other weapons with her in the bread truck everywhere she drove. As unidentifiable monsters and villainous beings swarmed around her, she ran as fast as her long legs would carry her back to the Wilson’s bread truck to retrieve her silver sword and a silver grenade. It was then that she saw it.
Her eyes widened as she caught sight of something she’d thought she’d only ever see in her dreams. Yards away, one of the strigoi gripped a woman by the neck with its proboscis, draining her of her blood. Dutch let out a ferocious battle cry, charging at the thing and cutting off the proboscis at the base, then lopping off the vampire’s head for good measure. She turned slowly to the woman who had been bitten, fearing that she would have to kill her as well, but the vampire had already done the job. She’d been drained of her blood. Still, if this had been a Dream, Dutch’s friend Setrakian who acted as the leader of their group would have insisted that the woman’s head be severed for safety measures, anyway. Dutch swallowed, trying to get rid of the nauseous feeling in her gut, and cut the head off of the stranger’s corpse to prevent the possibility of a vampire rising from the dead.
As soon as the task was completed, Dutch turned back around to face the rift again. This was no time to be emotional. There were still strigoi coming through and as they came through she rushed towards them with her sword. It all felt so completely surreal, but she swung her sword with expert strokes as if it were routine. With every severed head she felt a little more powerful, a little more like her Dream self.
The hell was that?!
Kanan had come out to stock up on some much needed supplies. Things like toilet paper, dish and hand soap, toothpaste and a few essentials for the kitchen to keep himself and Katou fed during these hot summer months. Kanan didn’t particularly like this type of shopping much. It wasn’t fun so much as it was a chore. It did not improve his mood any when this…hole opened up and these …things started pouring out of it.
Kanan had been in Orange County long enough to identify a Dream Event when he saw one, and god dammit this was an event. One of epic proportions,clearly! Kanan abandoned his cart of essential household supplies and immediately set to work defending his fellow shoppers, who also hadn’t signed up for this shit this morning. It was kind of funny. A few months ago, he would have been running away from this kind of trouble. Now he was running towards trouble. Trouble that were absolutely nasty looking, especially with those mouths. That the hell was with those mouths?! What was he even looking at?!
Kanan didn’t dwell too long on this puzzling and disturbing occurrence. As soon as he saw these creatures attack innocent people with what he could only describe as Mouth Penises, he fell back on his training and let his lightsaber slice right through them, groin to head.
That didn’t seem to please any of his fellow shoppers either. The young couple he had saved from a fate worse than death simply screamed in terror and ran towards the nearest exit. Well, that was gratitude for you!
“The hell is going on now?!”
Kanan turned. He couldn’t help but grin in spite of himself. Well, if it wasn’t Carolina’s high-strung little brother, no doubt out to replenish his medical supplies now that Carolina was awake again. Wasn’t it just his luck to just happen to be at the store just in time for monsters to almost literally crawl out of the woodwork.
“Heya, Wash.” Kanan called. “Fancy meeting you here.”
“Shut up,” Wash apparently had zero sense of humor in times of crises, poor guy. “What the fuck are these things?”
“Do you want me to answer that or shut up?” Kanan asked. He shook his head at the dour look Wash shot him. “I have no idea, but I think the source is outside since people are running from the exits rather than towards them. You packing?”
“Yes.” Of course Wash was armed. When was the guy ever not. The two of them made their way towards the front of the store and finally outside, just in time to see a certain blonde woman lop the head off what appeared to be an innocent bystander.
Well, that just made this whole experience even weirder.
“Is that Dutch!?” Wash asked.
Killing Strigoi takes all of one’s attention and apparently puts you in a world of your own, but when Dutch heard her name she instinctively looked up and saw not only Wash, but Kanan as well. Tucking the silver grenade into her pocket, she rushed over to the two of them.
“Can you believe this?? Strigoi.” Something about her seemed more animated, more alive. Suddenly, Dutch had the greater purpose that she’d only had in her Dreams before. Of course, right then it didn’t exactly make her feel good, but it did make her feel useful. She was more than a tech specialist - She was a warrior.
Her eyes were constantly darting from one part of the area to another and as a proboscis shot out intending to latch onto Wash’s throat, Dutch caught it first, slicing it off before it could reach him. The ugly, red appendage lay on the ground and the Strigoi it had been attached to howled in pain. Dutch quickly moved towards it to end the creature, decapitating it with one quick movement. She stood over the corpse, breathing heavily. Whatever was bringing these things from her Dreams was giving her quite the workout.
She turned to face Wash and Kanan again and pulled out the grenade, holding it so they could both see. “I have this if there get to be too many of them. Let me know if you feel overwhelmed and I’ll let it blow.”
“Jesus!” Wash jerked away from the proboscis (what Kanan still thought of as Mouth Penis), practically jumping backwards. In one fluid motion he had his gun drawn, cocked and aimed, pulling back only when Dutch got between him and a clear shot. Grey eyes keenly watched as Dutch put an end to the monster. He spared a glance at Kanan, before looking around them vigilantly, covering Dutch’s six as she disposed of the monster properly.
“These are the strigoi?” Kanan asked. He had always known that the vampire-like creatures in Dutch’s dreams were nothing but pure nightmare fuel, but his imagination had not done them justice. He slid into a ready stance, the blade of his lightsaber coming to life with a swish and hum.
Wash quickly closed ranks with his two companions, Dutch at his back and Kanan at his flank. He was a marine, combat was his specialty. The three of them would fare better as a unit. Overwhelming odds was something he was used to. He had faced both in his Dreams and on the battlefields of reality. He spared a quick glance back at Dutch. The more intel they had the better, and Dutch was their best source. “Are guns any good, or will I be wasting ammo on these things?” he asked.
Dutch nodded at Kanan’s question. They certainly weren’t what most people pictured when the word ‘vampire’ was mentioned. Strigoi were much uglier and nastier. Perhaps now the people on the network would understand why she was so vehemently against being turned into one of them.
She looked to Wash. “If you can hit them in their heads it won’t be a wasted shot. Otherwise, unless you’ve got silver bullets in that thing, you’d be wasting ammo.” Dutch remembered Setrakian. The man had silver weapons of every kind, right down to a Home Depot nail gun that shot out silver nails. He was the one who had given her the silver sword she was using to lop the heads off of the undead bastards that were currently plaguing Orange County.
Giving a nod of her head, Dutch indicated the direction she was going to move in before starting to walk towards a couple of the ugly suckers. The one turned and looked at her. Before she had a chance to swing her sword at it, it let its proboscis fly at her. As if she was in one of her Dreams she quickly bent to the side, narrowly dodging those dreaded fangs at the end of the appendage, and straightened up just as the thing pulled back. Dutch let out an angry growl of a cry and swung her sword, cutting off its head. Just as she made her move, though, its partner lashed out with its own proboscis reaching for Dutch’s thigh.
In a flash the blade of Kanan’s lightsaber flashed to life and sliced through the proboscis aiming at Dutch’s thigh. With a flourish and a spin, Kanan turned and sliced through the strigoi attached to said proboscis. He retracted the blade and deftly took off the thing’s head and then stabbed the thing when it attempted to roll away. He turned slightly to flash Dutch a grin. “Those sword lessons came in handy,” he told her.
Behind them came the report of Wash’s sidearm as he fired with precision and deadly aim. He was keeping Kanan and Dutch at his back as he pivoted left, right and up, shooting any of the swarm that was coming up behind them. There may as well have been targets painted in blazing red on their foreheads. Silver bullets were unheard of and unnecessary in his dreams, but what he’d give to have a plasma rifle right about now - or his battle rifle. Dammit, he was going to have to start just taking it with him wherever he went, proper certifications be damned.
The problem with fighting with a gun instead of a sword was that one wasn’t likely to run out of bullets with a sword. “I’m out!” he shot over his shoulder as he drew back a pace or two, reaching towards his back pocket for another clip.
Kanan stepped up to take over while Wash reloaded.
With all that was going on, Dutch only had time to grin back at Kanan. She was incredibly glad she’d taken the time to pass on her talent with the sword. She was even happier to have the talent herself. As the vampires approached them, one by one she aimed for their throats, trying to slice off their heads. When she missed she at least tried to thrust her sword into sensitive areas, the silver burning their flesh. Dutch didn’t miss very often, though. She had had plenty of practice night after night in her dreams.
The rift was bringing Strigoi in in great numbers, though, and a particularly nasty looking crowd of them started heading towards the trio just as Wash reloaded his weapon. Dutch shook her head and reached for the silver grenade. If ever there was a moment to use it, it was when they were surrounded by monsters. She lifted it up to her mouth, pulling the pin out with her teeth, and tossed it towards the oncoming crowd of Strigoi. They paused, heads tilting as they eyed the object rolling towards them, then howled and shrieked as it exploded into a cloud of silvery glitter. There was an audible hissing as it burned their skin. They were all, for the moment, distracted.
Instead of running away like any sane person might, Dutch charged the cluster of Strigoi with an impassioned cry. Her eyes occasionally darted back to her companions in battle, but for the most part she was almost laser focused on beheading as many vampires as she could manage.
Wash didn’t do well with sudden loud explosions. Call it combat fatigue or the more politically correct term of post traumatic stress disorder, certain noises often flashed him back to his days as a marine deep behind enemy lines with Death lurking in every dark corner and every rooftop. There was a reason. as a gamer, Wash stayed away from games like Call of Duty. In this particular instance, Dutch’s grenade going off took him back to that fateful training exercise and that faulty charge that had ended his military career.
Fortunately, he had his current combat situation to keep him focused and not lost in that particular painful flashback. His breath came in shorter partially-panicked gasps and he forced his hands to remain as steady as he could as he reloaded his gun, a steady stream of expletives muttered under his breath as he did so.
It only took a few moments for Wash to reload and rejoin the fight. Years of fighting side by side with someone who favored melee over long range combat, Wash knew to hang back out of the way of the two sword wielders and offer support in the way of firepower. Wash was incredibly skilled with a firearm. He kept Dutch’s and Kanan’s backs covered and did what he could to keep the invasion of strigoi from overwhelming the two. Occasionally a few got a little too close to Wash for his comfort and he fell back on his own hand-to-hand combat to avoid getting a probiscus in the arm or a pair of scaly looking hands around his throat.
In front of Wash, Kanan was doing well. His Jedi training had come back to him as a kind of second nature - graceful and precise in every movement. During the event with the Stormtroopers, Kanan had figured out how to marry the skills Dutch had taught him with the latent Form III that Master Depa Bilaba had taught him as a padawan - a woman Kanan had never met in the Dreams, but who he could sometimes feel was still with him.
He was thankful to have both Dutch and Wash with him. Strigoi weren’t anything like stormtroopers. They didn’t go down nearly as easy, but the three of them were making progress, especially considering how many of the strigoi were wounded by Dutch’s silver grenade.
The three of them seemed almost unstoppable. It was such a rush being part of a group like that again. It made Dutch feel at home, like she was living one of her Dreams. If the moment hadn’t been so incredibly serious she would have been smiling. Still, even as they all worked their way through the crowd of injured, hissing Strigoi, more were coming their way. It didn’t look good.
“I think we’d better work on an exit strategy!” Dutch called over her shoulder to Wash and Kanan. “The bread truck would be safe from them!” She’d welded and customized it to perfection. The vehicle was absolutely Strigoi-proofed. All they had to do was get back across the street to it and get inside.
Wash’d fought side by side with Kanan before, and Kanan had learned quite a bit of sword wielding from Dutch. However, the three of them had never once spent a moment training together as a unit. So the fact that they were working so well as a team was actually really fucking amazing. It was as though they each understood the strengths and weaknesses of the others and were compensating for same without really having to think. Had it not been for the fact that the waves of strigoi seemed unending and would eventually have overwhelmed as they tired They had actually stood a good chance in winning this fight.
“Agreed,” Wash responded on Kanan’s other side. He had no doubt that Dutch had tricked out the bread truck as she said she was going to on the Network and a part of him greatly wanted to see the upgrades she’d given to it. Still the idea of escaping the onslaught in a bread truck was kind of hilarious.
He spared a glance towards Kanan. “You ready to get the hell out of here?”
The strigoi were getting a little too close for Kanan’s comfort. He was good at close quarters combat, Form III specialized it and he favored the technique to what some would consider a ridiculous degree and it worked for him well. But he was getting tired and the idea of waiting here and fighting these things from now to the end of time did not appeal to him at all.
“So ready,” he answered Wash. To Dutch he said. “Which way is the bread truck? I’ll clear us a path.”
“This way,” Dutch nodded her head to her left, the direction in which the truck was parked. This was reminding her too much of a Dream in which she’d almost died - the battle at Red Hook. There’d been hundreds of Strigoi there, too, only at the last minute they’d all been saved by UV lamps turning on at the last minute. There would be no such lamps here.
She stayed close to the others, always watching their backs as well as her own. It was getting tiring with the Strigoi’s ever increasing numbers. Dutch was dreading hearing about the carnage on the news, but found a little bit of hope in the certainty that she and Wash and Kanan weren’t the only ones fighting against these things. That was the good thing about the Dreamers. They weren’t usually the type to sit back and do nothing.
Kanan laid eyes on the bread truck. The logo on the side was like a beacon for their escape. Kanan mentally mapped out the best path for them to take, one that would lead them through a lesser concentration of these abominations. He retracted the blade of his lightsaber and, concentrating as hard as he could on his connection with the Force, shoved his hands out in front of him as hard as he could. The group of strigoi right in front of them were literally knocked off their feet and sent flying backwards into the group behind them as if Kanan had actually shoved them with all his might. A moment later, Kanan had his sword in hand again, activated and at the ready.
“Handy having a Jedi on your side,” Wash quipped as the trio ran towards the truck. He brought up the rear, using the last of his ammunition to ensure that none of the strigoi attempted to catch a ride with them.
Dutch let out a relieved laugh, running towards the truck. She hopped into the driver’s seat, shutting the door behind her. Peering out the windows, each covered with metal wiring to make it impossible for Strigoi to burst through, Dutch planned their escape route. Looking out to Wash, she nodded to the back of the truck that had once held loaves of bread. “If you still want to shoot the assholes, there’s a little peephole in the side of the truck meant specifically for that purpose.” She couldn’t help but smile a little. It had been Vasiliy’s idea, not hers, but she still thought it was brilliant. “Otherwise, I’m going to get us the hell out of here.”