East Meets West: Rewrite 2 (Patreon)

Bullets, cutting waves of holy light, gouts of flame, and spectral forms of hunting dogs launched at the oncoming wave of critters. In the space of half a second, I’d sent six shots from my revolver into one of the digmauls, before moving faster than the normal eye could follow. In less time than it had taken to fire all six chambers, I’d removed the spent brass and replaced them with fresh rounds pulled from the rounds on the bandoleer that doubled as my gun belt.

The chupacabras shrieked, one collapsing in an uncontrolled roll as a blade of light from Tanyon cut its legs out from under it. Another of the chupacabras, the largest one, slowed, and I lost sight of it as one of the rakes let out an ear piercing shriek and leapt towards me.

{Fan the Hammer: Twin Shot}

Two bullets punched through the rake’s skull, the critter dropping like a puppet with its strings cut. Nakai let out a war cry, leaping into the oncoming horde with a pair of tomahawks, the weapons coated in flames, and was shortly followed by Tanyon, his bowie knives dancing in his hands.

A digmaul took advantage of my distraction, slamming into me with a powerful shoulder. I landed on my back, jerking my head to the side to avoid the massive ball on the end of its tail that would have crushed my skull. A paw on my wrist was keeping me from bringing my revolver to bear, so as fast as I could, I drew my knife. Reinforcing the blade with my vim, I drove it into the digmaul’s ear, the blade long enough to go all the way through its head and out the other side. I pushed the digmaul’s corpse off me just in time to catch the turning point of the fight.

[Blood Arts: All Consuming Hunger]

The largest chupacabra, the one I’d seen slow earlier, let out a sound that was part howl, part demonic laughter. Every drop of blood that had been spilled thus far flowed through the air, coalescing onto the hide of the chupacabra before being absorbed into its body. Bones snapped and popped as it grew in size, its muscles bulging grotesquely. Already sharp fangs multiplied in number, its eyes glowed with baleful light.

My blood ran cold, remembering my first encounter with a chupacabra. That had been a normal one, this one was awakened, more than that, it was capable of utilizing vim beyond the instinctive manner that all critters did.

With a snarl, the chupacabra lunged, meeting Sheriff Jackson as he stood his ground, his pistols in hand. With a grunt, he fired his pistol into the oncoming chupacabra, knocking it back a few steps, the sheriff running to his left as he did. I couldn't focus on the Sheriff's fight with it for long, as more chupacabras were rapidly approaching me.

Tanyon was still in his fight, and Nakai was holding his own, but I could see that they were losing ground. Lewie was trying to keep a healthy distance, and had sent three spectral bloodhounds after the hodag. The hodag was the largest of the bunch, and its spiked tail was whipping back and forth, slicing through one of the spectral dogs. The hodag let out another ear piercing shriek, causing Tanyon to pause his attack, grimacing in pain.

I brought my revolver up, firing three more rounds at the oncoming horde of critters. My first two shots hit the hodag in the chest, causing it to stumble, my third hitting one of the chupacabras in the shoulder. As I reloaded, I caught a flash of red in the corner of my vision.

I jerked my head around, and my heart leapt into my throat, seeing Sheriff Jackson go flying through the air, landing with a thud that I could hear even from a distance. There was a dark, tarry substance clinging to his right shoulder, where the chupacabra had bitten him, the Sheriff's revolver laying discarded on the ground.

The creature's jaws opened wide as it bore down on the Sheriff, and I felt my stomach churn at the sight of the Sheriff's blood in the critter's mouth, even as I pulled my bowie knife and launched my body towards them.

Just as I was about to reach them, Sheriff Jackson raised a hand, a pulse of blue vim launching towards the chupacabra. The beast flew back, away from the Sheriff, as my blade cut into the chupacabra's shoulder. I landed with my feet on either side of the Sheriff, drawing my revolver, and firing once, then twice into the chupacabra's throat. It thrashed and twitched, then went still, as a spurt of red blood painted me from head to toe.

Scooping up the Sheriff's gun and revolver, I glanced over towards Lewie, Nakai, and Tanyon, seeing that Lewie had already finished off the hodag, and was engaging the other chupacabras in battle. I moved towards Sheriff Jackson, checking his pulse.

“He's alive,” I said aloud, knowing that Lewie, and everyone else within fifty feet of me, would be able to hear me.

“Then get him in the ranch house, we've got a couple minutes of a reprieve,” Tanyon said as he stabbed one of the chupacabras through the chest, “Before the demon realizes it's missing two dozen minions.”

I picked the Sheriff up and ran towards the ranch house, seeing that Lewie had already made it to the entrance, Nakai drawing a series of sigils around the door with a piece of chalk. Tanyon was performing a fighting retreat as I hopped over the chalk markings on the threshold to the ranch house, Lewie already inside and Dan dropping the last digmaul from his position on the roof.

The Sheriff's weight made carrying him awkward, so I set him on the ground before taking cover in the kitchen. Tanyon leapt into the house, using the cover fire from Dan and Lewie to make his way across the room. Nakai was quickly finished with his sigil work, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. The chupacabras continued to howl, and I could see more of them in the distance, heading towards the ranch.

“They're gonna get to the house in minutes,” Dan said from the roof, his rifle barking. “I don't think I'm going to be able to keep up the barrage for more than another five or ten minutes, so I suggest someone come up with something!”

“Anyone got any ideas?” I asked, not looking back to the others as I checked the Sheriff’s injury. I winced at seeing the black, tar like substance in his wound. I was no vim doctor, and knew little about the medical side of things, but this was something wrong. More than just a standard chupacabra bite.

Tanyon took a breath, and I could feel the vim he was circulating into his bowie knives grow in intensity. The smell of burning flesh reached my nose, and I looked over to see Nakai drawing sigils on the Sheriff.

“How's it looking?” I asked him.

Nakai shrugged, but I could see the stress and worry in his eyes. “It's bad, really bad. It's eating away at his vim, and he'll need it all to survive.”

“Shit,” I cursed, glancing towards Tanyon, who shook his head. “What about a healing technique?”

Nakai shook his head, “No, the wound's too large, and it's too far along for me to repair without a much more advanced technique than I have. There's nothing I can do.”

I swore under my breath, only to pause, an itch running down my spine. Looking around, I asked, “Where’d Lewie go?”

All eyes were on me for a moment, before the front door exploded open, Lewie entering with a wide, wicked grin on his face. It looked wrong, like it was another person’s expression. Nakai took one look, and shouted a curse as he spun around.

{Corrupted Taint: Wracking Blood}

Pure agony tore through my body, as though my blood had turned to molten lead in my veins. Dimly, I heard Nakai and Tanyon cry out in pain as well, as my knees hit the floor. The agony continued for what felt like years, before receding as quickly as it had arrived. I gasped for breath, my head spinning and my stomach churning with nausea. I blinked away tears, the smell of blood hitting my nose. Looking up, I saw the Sheriff, a massive gash in his throat, and the stranger wearing Lewie's skin standing over him.

“Skinwalker,” Nakai spat from where he was hunched over a few feet away.

“Indeed,” the stranger said, before looking back to Sheriff Jackson. “A shame the beast couldn’t resist, I had hoped that I’d be able to upgrade to him at the end of this. Oh well, it will be a simple matter to ensure that, as the sole survivor, Louis is promoted to Sheriff upon returning with the head of the critter that slew the Barkers and the rest of you.”

He drew one of the Sheriff's revolvers, taking careful aim before firing. The shot punched through Nakai's left eye, the Indian falling to the floor with a wet thud. I had time to let out a cry of alarm before the Skinwalker turned to Tanyon and fired a second shot. He too fell dead, and I began desperately cycling my vim within my body, trying to expel the Skinwalker's influence enough to move.

The Skinwalker turned his attention towards me, his lips pulling back in a sneer as he raised the revolver to aim at me. I couldn’t yet move, but I refused to die like this, my eyes raced around, trying to find something, anything.

“That’s enough,” a raspy voice hissed, as a chupacabra entered the ranch house, a massive scar over its left eye. “The Master wants some live ones.”

“That is a mistake,” the Skinwalker snarled, keeping the revolver pointed at me. “The former sheriff didn’t take on fools and weaklings. It would be far safer to kill them all and send me back.”

“You have your orders, Whakan, unless you wish to take it up with the Master?”

The Skinwalker spat onto the floor, his voice sounding like he had been gargling broken glass.

“No, it would be foolish to argue with the Master,” the Skinwalker said, and I took the moment's reprieve to release the vim that had been coursing through my body. “You might want to take care of them quickly though, if they get away, I will hold you personally responsible. Now get out of my way, I'm not going to allow these beasts to drag me down to their level.”

The Skinwalker stepped past the chupacabra, a moment of silence before I was hit by a wave of vim from the chupacabra. I grit my teeth and tried to resist the raw, heavy weight of its vim. I'd never felt anyone, critter or human, with such a massive amount of vim, and it took everything I had to keep my head up as the chupacabra approached me.

“You,” the critter rumbled in a deep, guttural voice that reminded me of an avalanche. “You are strong, and strong can mean a lot of trouble. If the Skinwalker says you're going to be trouble, I'm going to have to deal with it.”

I felt the chupacabra draw closer, and its breath washed over my face, stinking of death and rotting blood, “I hope you're trouble, I owe you for taking my eye all those years ago.”

My eyes widened, shock running through me as its words echoed like a church bell in my mind. Its vim slammed into me again, and as darkness creeped into my vision, I grit my teeth and fought back against the call of unconsciousness. No matter how foolish, I would always resist this specific chupacabra, one I had scarred nearly two decades ago when I first awakened my vim, the one that had killed my family.

It wasn’t enough, and I soon blacked out.