Ripper and Anarchy
An interesting challenge I noticed on a reviewer’s profile. Minor changes to cannon have been made, if any of them stand out, please let me know.
I own nothing you recognize, and list of specifics will be at the end of the Chapter.
Jacks Teller blew out the smoke from his cigarette uneasily. Some days, with the sun shining, the smell of cordite, and grease in the air, some days he could almost remember the old days. The days when money had been his biggest concern, the days when S.A.M.C.R.O. had been his family. The days before that fucked up son of a bitch Adam had moved his forces out. Charming had been one of hundreds of towns, and cities taken over by the bastard and his commanders. The enemy forces had been overwhelming, Clay had compared it to his days in Nam, and their Aks had given them a fighting chance, until night had fallen. The Sons had lasted a matter of hours after that.
Luckily for S.A.M.C.R.O. and Charming it wasn’t just the gates of hell that had spewed forth from Sunnydale but also Angels, furious and righteous ones as well. One of them, a “Man” named Rupert Giles had calmly walked past the Hale brothers, and told them clear as day, “I know how to stop them, and you have the fire power, what will you do?”
Jacks had never felt as glorious as he did that day, taking down Fangers left, right, and center, only stopping when his hundred round drum magazine had clicked empty and his barrel was cherry red. Putting the sight of his Draganov on a wanderer's head he pulled the trigger, the modified and blessed round tore through the human skull and painted the grass with the innards. He took the old CB radio and said “We got a veggie, fifty yards from the club house, who’s on clean up?”
Tig’s voice answered, “Me, Kiddo, you able to cover me?”
Jacks checked his clip, and nodded more out of habit then expecting the man at arms to acknowledge him. He replied back, “Yeah brother, I got you, hurry up, I hear Jason’s on the prowl in the area.”
Tig clicked his radio twice in agreement. Nobody wanted to run into that fucker, Jason Voorhees, some kind of serious zombie. He’d seen the guy twice, and it had taken a dozen “Fire ball” rounds to get the guy to back off, and even then it was more of an “Easier prey” then a “I’m running away” situation. He had no idea how Adam controlled that thing, Ripper didn’t either.
Focusing on the current situation Jacks used the sight to scan the horizon, most of Adam’s forces this far from the front were just wanderers. Nobodies that had gotten lost or the occasional pack of hell hounds. However, Jacks wasn’t the kind of guy to think Adam didn’t know they were there, that would be stupid. He figured what was left of the United States and their new cyber defender “Terminators” were keeping the cyborg’s attention. He’d been surprised to learn that some company that had seemingly sprung up over night was actually going toe to toe with Adam’s forces and tying. He remembered when Ripper had been informed of the news, he’d smiled like a wolf, and said, “That bloody Genius, I’ll have to let her teach me those infernal machines now.”
Jacks had no idea if, or how, his clubs brain of all things evil knew the woman who’d brought Cyberdyne’s toys online, although he had asked the man once. Looked at him, after both of them had drunk a bit too much, Ripper had then told him a tale of three children, younger than him, how they’d saved the world and lost all of their own. In a final climactic battle they’d prepared everything, only for the door of their sanctuary to be kicked in, the heart’s girlfriend’s neck to be snapped like a twig, the muscle to try and save her only for her to be knocked cold. The bastard Adam laughed and stood over them, telling them to run, to flee, to go and hide, and wait for him to conquer the world.
How the four aided by an unlikely ally had made a pact. Agreed to see Adam burn. Then they’d separated, one of them happened across the Sons, had them call in their brothers, call in everyone. Charming had an army in it within two weeks, and had been raiding Adam’s supply lines just as quickly. Some of the Hunters and others they’d run into called them the Anarchists. Remembering the first time he’d heard that brought a smile to Jacks’ face.
It was a sign of his skill, that Jacks saw the glint of steel well over fifty yards from Tig’s location. It was an even more major show of skill that he followed its line of sight, and squeezed a round off a good 6 feet from one of his older friends. The Machete was knocked into the ground as he grabbed the CB, “Those rumors of Jason in the area aren’t rumors ladies and guys, everyone to your post, he’s on his way and he’s pissed, Tig get your ass back here!”
Without waiting he rejected his high impact clip, and loaded a hundred round drum with hallow points, each was filed with hell fire. He knew it wasn’t much, but it was all he had on hand. He pulled the bolt back as he lined up the rifle. This was going to suck. Getting into a position for more accuracy he was soon laying on his belly, taking deep breathes. He wasn’t some storm trooper, he had 200 rounds in the snipers nest right now, and he’d be damned if he didn’t do everything in his power to put all two hundred of them in Jason. And if those didn’t work, he had his AK nearby. He wasn’t a bitch, he wasn’t a coward, he was a Son of Anarchy, an Anarchist, and if today was his day to die, he’d do his damndest to take that son of a bitch with him. As the legendary and nightmare inspiring Hockey mask came over the horizon, Jack Teller, Vice President of the Sons of Anarchy, put the dot of his sight in the middle of the mask, set the gun to three round bursts, and with a somewhat less than sane smirk on his face, the ash of his cigarette falling to the Sniper’s nest wooden floor, he pulled the trigger.
There we have it, chapter 1 of I’m thinking at least 5 maybe 6 chapters story. I’m planning to at the very least do a chapter from the Scoobies perspective, at least the ones that are still around. Not sure if I’ll do a massive “final battle” chapter or not. We’ll see how popular this is and what the opinion of it is. Special thanks to RockyWilliams, for this challenge 6115.
Also, I don’t own Terminator, Sons of Anarchy, Friday the 13th, or BVtS. Nor do I own the guns mentioned in the above chapter.
Also again, This stories chapters aren't exactly in chronological order. Read them in the order they are posted first, but it may help if you get lost to re-read it in chronological order, which is 2 1 3 4 and 5. I'm not sure why it wrote itself this way, but it doesn't really matter. Please R&R