Left 4 Darth

And now, for something a little different! In this scenario, Darth Vader, that iconic villain, will take on the Special Infected from Left 4 Dead. Why? Because I can, that's why!

As always, I'm using Invisible Castle for my rolls. For this scenario, Vader will actually be functioning as the "hero", using Plot Points instead of Doom dice. Scene Distinctions: the desolate streets are lined with cars and filled with litter, while a rain storm fills the sky overhead.

This is gonna be a rough fight, just because Vader is so outnumbered, but we'll see! He's not entirely alone, and he's quite dangerous. I'm betting the Dark Lord of the Sith will triumph somehow!

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"Go!" croaked the old man. Wheezing harshly, Bill gestured for her to turn and run. "Stupid... girl... gonna get yourself killed."

"No! I'm not leaving you behind, Bill." Zoey had her hands under his arms, dragging the old man down the street at a snail's pace. The howls and cries of the Infected grew louder. They had a minute at most, then the street would be crawling with those freaks. Zoey had no chance if she didn't run, and Bill knew she wouldn't leave him behind. He started fumbling with the pistol holstered at his side. Zoey didn't notice, or if she did, had no idea of his intentions. You ain't gonna die for me, kid. You're carrying the future on your back. A light rain began to fall.

Suddenly, they appeared. One, a Hunter, crawling down the side of a crumbling old tenement. With a dry, hacking cough, a tall, misshapen figure moved to the edge of the roof above its companion, long tongue trailing from its distended maw. Behind Zoey and Bill, somewhere up the street, a gurgling sound. Bill knew what that meant, and it was bad. He tried twisting to see, but it was awkward with Zoey hauling him. A high-pitched shriek filled the air from a hidden Spitter; the things never liked to show their faces, where they were vulnerable. The horrid laughter of the Jockey followed, echoing through the alleys in a chorus of insane mockery. Finally, the Bovine bellow of a Charger as it stood upon a car, the roof collapsing beneath its weight.

All of them, the so-called "Special Infected", the most terrible zombies loosed by the Green Flu, and now they were surrounded. "Why are they waiting?" Zoey stopped dragging Bill and crouched down, holding him propped up. They both knew it was over. The two of them stood no chance against all of those monsters at once. Only two Infected were missing: the Witch, perhaps the only Infected not completely overcome by murderous intent, and...

"RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!"

The ground shook following the terrible roar. There was a tremendous crash, and a car came flying into the intersection from a side street, rolling several times before crashing into a small office building. A hulking behemoth followed, walking on its knuckles, tree-trunk arms knotted with grotesquely bulging muscles. The Tank, most terrible of all the Infected. That's why the others waited: their big brother wanted to smash Bill and Zoey into paste with its bare hands, and even the other Infected would do well not to risk the Tank's wrath.

"It won't be pretty," said Bill, with a resigned laugh, "but at least it'll be quick." He took hold of Zoey's hand and squeezed it. "Like a daughter, kid. You were one of the few reasons to keep on tryin' to live in this ****ed up world. You got a lion's heart, darlin'. Ain't no one I'd rather be with at the end."

The ground rumbled beneath them, from the thunder in the sky and from the oncoming Tank. Thousands of pounds of dense muscle, the creature was living engine of destruction. It smashed and threw cars like a child might throw Matchbox cars. Even groups of heavily-armed survivors were lucky to survive an encounter with one. Zoey glared at it, but remained resolute, even when tears stung her eyes, and welled up in Bill's. After all they'd been through, to end like this...

The Tank stopped a mere twenty feet away, huge shoulders heaving with its angry pants. Its whole body quivered with volcanic rage ready to erupt. Silence descended upon the street, the calm before the storm.

Hsssss-pssh. It sounded like gas hissing from a ruptured pipe. The sound repeated itself several times, steadily. Bill had heard something like it before, something like... a respirator? He didn't have time to question it any further.

A man—it must have been a man—walked out of the shadows of a nearby parking garage. Tall, clad all in black, a long cape flowed behind him. The mask he wore, expressionless, cold, mechanical. He was the scariest goddamn thing Bill had ever seen. Like something out of a soldier's worst fascist nightmare.

He strode toward the gathering and stood between Bill and Zoey and the Tank. He turned and looked down at them, eyes hidden behind that terrible mask, but they knew. They wondered what kind of man was behind that, staring at them, only that raspy respirator sound breaking the silence.

Darth Vader turned to face the monsters. Aliens, perhaps, but if so, the ugliest he had ever seen. He knew not the people who were so resigned to their fate, or even how he'd gotten here. Something about her reminded him of a better time long, long ago, in a place far, far away...

The giant roared. Vader's lightsaber leaped to his hand and ignited, casting a red pall on the monstrosity.

"The ability to smash a car is insignificant next to power of the Force."

Before Bill or Zoey could even comprehend that the terror in black was using a laser sword against the Tank, Vader plunged the searing blade into the Tank's belly. The Tank had no time to even mount a counterattack, staggering away and crashing to the ground in a heap. The stench of rotten innards and burning human flesh filled the air. Zoey tried not to retch, even as awe took away her ability to speak.



"Look out!" screamed Zoey, pointing at the Hunter as it sprang from the building. It arced through the air, hands outstretched, shrieking wildly. Impossibly, Vader held up his free hand and the Hunter stopped dead in midair, floating helplessly as though held by invisible hands, thrashing about. Darth Vader gestured sharply toward the apartment building and the Hunter sailed through the air, crashing into the wall hard enough to crack it. With a dazed growl, the zombie bounced off and landed in a heap.

"What the hell are you?" cried Zoey.



Trumpeting like an angry bull, the Charger rushed at the dark-clad man, its one oversized arm held out like a battering ram. Breath hissing through his mask, Vader turned his Force powers on the goliath, hand shaking as he barely held back its charge. The concentration left him open as another one of them attacked, long tongue lancing out to coil about him.



Reacting by senses even his armor cannot provide, Vader swung the Lightsaber in a wide arc. The Smoker's serpentine tongue flopped and writhed on the ground, cut in half by the stroke. The end cauterized and sizzling, it retracted back into the freak's gaping mouth.



With its mad tittering, the deformed little Quasimodo Jockey sprang upon Vader's back, grasping at his helmet. It had no time to find purchase, however, as the Sith Lord reached back, grabbed hold of the Jockey and threw over his shoulder.



"Don't let it puke on you!" shouted Bill, sudden strength returning to his lungs. Perhaps the heroic ferocity of the dark knight's struggle had inspired him.

The Boomer had worked its way closer, hiding behind cars, until the others had distracted Vader. Then it lumbered into the street and belched forth a thick torrent of putrid green bile. Breaths hissing rapidly through his mask, Vader turned only barely in time to ward off the stream of bile, which broke like waves upon an invisible rock, and nary a drop touched Darth Vader. "How repulsive a creature."



As he was trying to deflect the Boomer bile, another stream of noxious green bodily fluids rained down upon him, sizzling acid eating small holes in his cape and armor. Darth Vader's anger with these creatures grew, the air around him boiling more furiously than the acid spit.



"ENOUGH!" Vader threw a fist into the sky and wave of rippling power blasted out from him. Bill and Zoey slid back on the road, pushed by the power, as several cars and manhole covers lifted into the sky, orbiting like satellites above Vader. The two survivors watched with jaws agape at the awesome display of power. With a casual gesture, Vader sent one of the manhole covers flying into the Charger, cracking its sternum, shattering ribs and throwing it against a wall. It fell and did not get up again.



Regaining its bearings, the Hunter scrambled to its feet and sprinted for Vader while his back was turned. It leaped through the hovering debris with a horrific goblin-shriek and never even saw the car descend from midair to crash down on its head. The Hunter lay unmoving in a small pool of its own blood.



By Vader's will, the car floating behind him moved through the air to block the stream of vomit he knew was coming from the Boomer he couldn't see. He knew these creatures now. They would not surprise him again.



Creeping to a more advantageous position, the Smoker again loosed its constricting tongue. This time, Vader was ready, ducking as the thick, ropey tongue sailed over head, tasting only air.



As the Jockey sprang at him again with its evil cackling, Lord Vader seized it in one hand, catching it in mid-leap. "I am the Lord of the Sith!" he snarled. "I am the Chosen One!" He strangled off its laughter, throttling the little bastard. "I am not your plaything, beast."



Sensing the burning malice within the Spitter, Darth Vader turned and hurled forth his Lightsaber. It flew through the air like a buzzsaw, cleaving the stream of acid in twain even as she spit it, and scoring a smoking wound along her right side. Called by the power of the Force, the saber just as quickly returned to Vader's hand.

"What is he, Bill?" whispered Zoey. Bill shook his head. "Don't know, darlin'. I ain't never seen nothin' like that. Not in war, not in my whole life."



"I grow weary of this conflict." Vader clenched his fists, drew them in toward his chest, then let out a yell and threw his arms wide. A half-seen force of kinetic power exploded outward from him, sending cars, manhole covers and all the other pieces of debris flying—along with the Special Infected. Torn to pieces by the Force power and smashed by the debris, they scattered like leaves before a gale. Windows shattered. Lightpoles bent in half or ripped out of the ground. Even the Tank's unmoving bulk hurtled through the air.

When it was over and the wind settled, nothing moved except for the fluttering cape of Darth Vader. Bill and Zoey dared not even speak, fearful of this... this sorcerer and his ways. Wherever he'd come from, his power was unearthly and terrifying.

At long last Zoey spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. "Th-Thank you, whoever you are."

The dark warrior turned to face them. His rasping breaths slowed to their normal pace. "Go. Now. There will be more danger. I feel them. More will come, and they will not be as forgiving as I am."

Zoey nodded and helped Bill to his feet. Supporting him with one arm of her shoulders, she helped him limp down the street, leaving the enigmatic Sith Lord behind.

Vader turned his gaze to the sky, where the storm that roiled matched his own inner turmoil. The power of the Force had triumphed once more, but ever the Dark Side gnawed at his mind. Those monsters reminded him of the twisted, cackling figure who sat upon the Imperial throne and steered the destiny of an entire galaxy toward his own selfish whims.

Just as he had destroyed these ones, perhaps one day he might strike down the greatest monster...


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Well, Zoey never had to get involved. I figured she could jump in if needed, though she wouldn't be anywhere near as effective as Vader. But as it turns out, the dark lord of the Sith is (and should be) more than a match for the Special Infected. Now, if he hadn't gotten lucky on many rolls, it might be different. They're a pretty devastating team when they act in concert. A lesser warrior would easily have fallen.