I cover up and defend my vitals as I think up a plan to get out of this. I bit off way more than I could chew here. I struggle to reload both my guns under pressure. Still, I’m loaded and just need an opening. I’ll be able to take a few out. If I die, well, it’ll be in a blaze of glory. Live fast, die young and leave a mangled corpse. A bright red light creeps into my vision bringing heat with it. I can’t help but close my eyes tight as it grows closer, hotter and brighter.
The heat from the light is intense but doesn’t harm me. I hear the Strigoi start to shriek out in pain. No doubt the light is the cause of this. As the light fades from my vision the sounds of more hissing and starling fills my ears. I guess there were more Strigoi waiting in the woods than I thought. I open my eyes and blink to focus my vision, popping up ready to fire. Instead I see Elser standing off in the distance. His stance says he’s the one who just fired off some kind of magic. He leaves no doubt that he’s the one that saved my ass. I’ll forever be grateful for that, even if I never say it.
Before I can thank him the Strigoi attack and I begin firing off rounds. I’m not alone this time. Elser blasts monster after monster with magic blasts of varying colors and sizes. There’s a reason he’s well respected as a hunter. He does more with magic than most can do with an entire arsenal of weapons and tools. Maybe the reason we never got along is because we take the opposite approach to the same jobs.
He sticks with magic. Some of the oldest and most dangerous spells. But, still he’s mastered them, and they’re reliable. I on the other hand, choose to embrace the new world. Others stick to old weapons. Swords, stakes, and even bows but I don’t mind a gun for the job. It’s efficient, made to kill. Sure it can make anyone a killer and every psychopath can get one. But, if you’re as good as I am with one, it won’t let you down in a tough situation. That can’t be said for every gun obsessed lunatic. I can get multiple shots off and take out a few enemies in just a few seconds. Still, I don’t let myself rely on just the guns, which is why I have everything else.
The rest of our party joins the fight slowly. Many of this class are using bows and arrows. Something else I never got the hang of. They huddle in groups and fire in mass taking out a few at a time. The blonde kid seemed like all talk but I see he’s out there with a spiked mace, a rare weapon choice. I think I’ve seen one once before. He gets up close and just smashes in their heads. It must be blessed or have some kind of runes because their heads cave in and they drop. The girl from earlier is blasting away with some spells. Not as good as Elser but she’s still holding her ground and providing support for those with the bows. They all work well as a team. I clearly don’t belong alongside them.
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We’re still outnumbered, but we’re taking control of the battle field. Strigoi rely on the numbers game but they don’t necessarily take on other large groups. We’ve got them on the ropes. Still I need to get into that farm house. While they’ve got this under control it might be my chance to get in there. I reload and start making my way to the house. I reach the front door and through all the chaos I still here the screams from inside.
I attempt to open the door but it’s locked. I jam my shoulder into the door and it doesn’t budge. Good locks, strong frame. I use my gun to shoot right through the doorknob. This time the door gives behind the force of my shoulder and I stumble into the home.
Looking around it hasn’t been touched in ages. Dust covers every surface, but the screams are coming from here for sure. Now that I’m inside I can hear the difference between the screams. Some male some female but I hear them all. They’re coming from further inside the house so I don’t have any choice but to make my way deeper inside. It looks to be a standard home. Living room, a vintage TV with knobs instead of buttons. Probably one of the old tube TVs. The wallpaper is peeling and each room I walk through is carpeted with the scent of mildew hanging in the air.
I make my way to the kitchen, just as dusty as the rest of the home. Nobody has cooked a meal in here for decades. Still the screaming is louder in this room than any other. I make my way over to a pantry. The only thing in the room that isn’t covered in dust. That shows whoever is in charge here didn’t plan to hide their wrong doing, the home was just a convenient choice. I open up the pantry and there’s another door behind it.
Turning the knob works for this one. A staircase into the basement is revealed. I hit the button to turn on the flashlight strapped to my chest protector and make my way down. The further I go below the more the screams continues to grow. But this is just a basement nothing special here. A few wine barrels and some empty crates. I feel the walls for any signs of a hollow area or a hidden door and come up with nothing. I drag my foot along the floor tapping as I walk along looking for a trap door. Eventually I find what I’m looking for tucked in the corner behind some empty boxes. A trap door, real old school.
I lift it open and make my way down. This time a much longer stairway, I’m greeted by some fresh screams as I finally reach the base. Yet another door. Whoever is in charge here is really defensive. This one looks more classic and ornate. A large wooden log secures this door, but from the wrong side if they were trying to keep people from getting in. I grip the log and lift it freeing the door. Still a padlock needs to be removed to get in.
I reload both my guns, a bullet in the chamber for each gun. I stretch getting ready for whatever awaits the other side of the door. I finally blast the padlock when another scream starts. I follow it up by crouching and sneaking through the door taking cover behind the wall pointing my gun in. Nothing moves, but chills run down my spine. This is fear, and fear will not rule me, especially not fear of the unknown. A quick deep breath and I make my way further into the room.