East Meets West: Rewrite 1 (Patreon)

In retrospect, I really should have expected this kinda shit. The day had started out just fine, setting out from the Sheriff's Office at Grave Ravine with Sheriff Jackson and the rest of the posse, on route to the Barker's ranch, which had gone quiet the last few weeks.

The Barker family came to town at least once every two weeks, typically every week for church, but they lived far enough out that sometimes they just couldn't make the trip. But they hadn't come to town for five weeks, and none of them had any vim, so the sheriff had decided to head out and check on them. Deadeye Dan was always a pain rustling up before noon, but given how he was by far the best shot in Grave Ravine, it was one that the sheriff, and thus the town, put up with.

We'd set out, and less than two hours into the vim-enhanced ride towards the Barker's ranch, encountered the first sign that something was wrong. Lewie had a natural gift for sniffing out vim, even before he'd been able to use his own, and he'd started sniffing the air like a bloodhound.

“Smells thirsty and rancid, from the Barker's,” Lewie had said, though I had no idea how thirsty was a smell. “No smell of blood though.”

Several of the posse muttered amongst themselves as we continued, at a faster pace. The Barkers lived nearly a full day out at a normal horse's pace, but with our vim allowing our steeds to go faster and a lot longer, we made it there in four hours.

“Alright, fellas,” Sheriff Jackson said as our group of six arrived at the edge of the ranch. “Keep your eyes open. Best case scenario, the Barkers found another town in the other direction of Grave Ravine. If not…”

Nothing else needed to be said. We'd all had experiences, when either outlaws, citters, or worse had descended upon a ranch or farmstead. My first such experience had been ten years ago, when I was an arrogant little shit who thought having vim meant I could take on the world. An awakened chupacabra had taught me otherwise.

The normal chupacabras were bad enough, clever but no more intelligent than a well trained dog. When they awakened and became as smart as a man, that was when they became both cruel and creative. A scar on my collarbone ached at the thought of my past, and I pushed the memories back, focusing on the here and now.

There was no sign of life in the ranch house, but the smell of old blood hit us immediately, and Lewie was sniffing the air again.

“Smells like there's been some critters here,” Lewie said, frowning before taking another sniff. “The blood smell’s wrong though. Fake, I think?”

My left hand reached behind my back, drawing my bowie knife while my right remained close to my pistol. I was better with a quickdraw than I was with a knife, but better to have it at the ready, some critters were easier to cut than shoot.

“Something is very wrong here,” Sheriff Jackson muttered to himself, before raising his voice. “Deadeye, Tanyon, check out the barn. Lewie, Nakai, see if you can’t find us a trail. Jedediah, you and I are heading into the ranch house.”

We split apart, I followed behind Sheriff Jackson, keeping my eyes and other senses peeled. I could tell that the Barkers had been relatively successful in growing some vim-rich plants in their fields, but my ability to sense vim wasn’t nearly the most refined. I was better at it than Tanyon, but his gifts lied in other areas.

I wasn’t really specialized in anything, being more of a generalist. I was okay at tracking, fighting, riding, and the other things just expected of someone who utilized vim outside of focusing on their job, but everyone else in the posse was better than me in something. This meant that I could fit in just about anywhere when Sheriff Jackson split us up.

Lewie could track with the best of them, and even without his vim-enhanced nose and ears, was still the best scout I had ever met. Dan had the sharpest eyes, and was the best shot, the only times I'd ever seen him fail to hit a target was because he was using someone else's gun and it didn't have as long a range as his rifle. Nakai had a gift for seeing through illusions and knew the most about vim techniques, both indian and otherwise. Tanyon was hands down the best knife fighter I've ever seen, and used a knife that had been in his family for over a thousand years. He claimed that it housed the spirit of one of his ancestors, but I had no idea how true that was.

Shaking my head as I passed through the front door of the ranch house, following the Sheriff, I focused on the task at hand.

The place was a mess, broken glass and furniture were scattered everywhere, and the smell of blood was strongest here. The main room looked like it had been ransacked, but...

“Jedediah, over here,” the Sheriff called from the doorway to another room. I made my way over, slipping my knife back into its sheath, but keeping my right hand near my pistol.

Reaching the doorway, I took a look inside, seeing that it led to the kitchen, the walls splattered with blood. Sharing a glance with Sheriff Jackson, we entered, and I made my way over to one of the blood splattered walls. Reaching out, I ran two fingers through the blood, my brow furrowed. It was still wet, but the Barkers had been missing for weeks, and combined with what Lewie had said about the smells he’d been picking up on this place.

“Any ideas what we’re dealing with, Sheriff?” I asked, turning to face him as he opened a door opposite the one we’d entered. His expression was grim.

“Not sure. Something is very wrong here, though. Keep your eyes peeled, I don't know what happened here, but there's something unnatural going on,” he answered as he stepped through the doorway. Following after, we made our way down the staircase leading into a cellar. The smell of blood grew stronger as we did.

Without vim, neither of us would be able to see. But we could, and we were treated to the sight of a seal, carved into the compacted floor and glowing dimly with a red, pulsing light. I glanced at Sheriff Jackson, who said five simple words: “Get everyone down here, now.”

[hr][/hr]

Nakai and Tanyon were studying the seal, avoiding touching it, and pooling their knowledge together. Nakai may have a wider knowledge base overall, but Tanyon was a lot more familiar with demonology, having been trained by a demon hunting branch of the Mormon ‘church’.

Deadeye was on the roof, his rifle at the ready. With his vim, he could see further than any man, and could make shots that shouldn't have been possible. If whatever had killed the Barkers returned, we'd know. I was with Lewie and the Sheriff, trying to put together a timeline of what had happened here. There were three graves in the backyard, dug up recently. The bodies had been removed from the graves, and the blood on the walls wasn’t theirs.

“The blood on the walls is tied to the seal in the cellar,” Lewie had noted, his eyes closed as he focused. “Now that I know it’s there, there’s something else, something masked by it…”

I looked to the Sheriff, who shrugged, and motioned for us to follow Lewie. We did, and he led us out into the yard. He paused, taking a sniff, then headed towards a nearby tree.

He started digging with his hands, and I pulled out my knife and joined him. About two feet down, we hit something leathery, and the Sheriff had grabbed a shovel. Soon, a large, leathery sack was pulled from the ground. It was about the size of a man, and as we rolled it over, I could see the symbol seared into the front, the same symbol that had been burned into the floor.

“Well, that’s not ominous,” I muttered, swallowing down the bile that rose up in my throat at the sheer wrongness of whatever was in the sack.

“We going to open it up, or…” Lewie trailed off, his face green and his voice sounding like the last thing he wanted was to open the sack.

“No, bring it into the ranch house, we’ll check with Nakai and Tanyon, see what they’ve managed to figure out,” the Sheriff ordered, to nods by both Lewie and myself.

As we were hauling the sack into the house, Nakai and Tanyon walked out of the kitchen, Nakai looking more shaken than I had ever seen him.

“This is bad, very, very bad,” Nakai said, Tanyon muttering a prayer under his breath.

Nakai explained, while Tanyon continued praying. The seal was a demon gate, designed to keep a single, specific demon sealed within. Nakai explained that it had been made to trap a particularly powerful and nasty demon, but that the seal had been broken.

“What about the seal on the sack?” I asked, pointing to it.

Tanyon made a strangled choking sound, and Nakai looked ready to vomit. Nakai was the one to answer, his voice tight.

“If that is what I think it is…” he took a steadying breath before continuing. “It serves as a way to preserve what remains of the individual that the demon is using as a host. I doubt there will be much inside it other than the dismembered remains of one of the Barkers.”

Almost as one, our gazes turned towards it. I took a careful step away from it, my skin crawling. Glancing towards the Sheriff, I saw that he looked as sick as I felt.

“Right…” he said after a moment. “Don’t suppose you can figure out where the demon went?”

Before Nakai or Tanyon could answer, there was a series of loud, bloodcurdling shrieks in the distance.

“Company, incoming!” Deadeye Dan shouted from his spot on the roof, moments before his rifle barked. “Six chupas, a dozen digmauls, a hodag, and three rakes!”

“I don’t suppose that this demon has any power over critters?” Lewie asked Nakai and Tanyon as we raced outside, getting ready to fight for our lives.

“Not that I’m aware of,” Tanyon responded, drawing a pair of bowie knives that began to pulse with holy light as he began circulating his vim into the blades. “But I can think of two dozen others that can.”

“Goodie,” Lewie drawled, even as his face twisted in disgust.

I narrowed my eyes as we exited the ranch house, sending a flow of vim to my eyes to enhance my vision. After a moment, I spotted the incoming critters. Chupacabras resembled something of a mix of dog and lizard, with a mane of spines like a porcupine’s quills. Digmauls looked like mountain lions, but twice as big with a massive club on the end of their tails. The hodag was reptilian, with a row of spikes running down its back, bull-like horns on its head, a mouth full of fangs, and was nearly as tall as the ranch house. The rakes had the basic build of humans, but their skin was pale gray, their arms and legs were far too long and gangly, and instead of fingers they had claws that were a foot long.

Rolling my neck, I glanced at the other members of the posse on either side of me. Dan’s rifle barked again, a spray of blood erupting from one of the rakes, but it kept coming.

Taking a deep breath, I told my fellows, “Whoever kills the least pays at the saloon?”

“As usual,” Tanyon responded immediately. Almost as one, we cut loose.

{Fan the Hammer: Six Shots}

{Holy Blade Art: Cutting Grace}

{Art of the Deadeye: Sniper Shot}

{Path of the Shaman: Cleansing Flame}

{Star of the Law: Twin Gun Barrage}

{Scout’s Trick: Phantom Bloodhounds}