The sergeant almost laughs, even as his face turns a deep shade of red. "You don't get it, do you?" He stops reaching for his handgun, instead popping the driver side door open. His grip increases in strength, nails digging deep into Tim's arm as he stares deep into Tim's eyes, his own burning with a violent bloodlust. "You two are already dead, I'm just bringing you back to the Other Side!"

(Tim suffers 3 points of Bashing damage, the sergeant suffering another point of Bashing damage from the continued sleeper hold, and you both notice how he seems to be 'growing' in his seat, his nails appearing to grow in length and his hair even seems longer. Something about him is definitely off, and you are getting a growing, sickening feeling that maybe getting out of the car and into the open might not be a bad idea).

Duncan gapes at the sergeant, his face turning an ashen colour. "We gotta get the hell out'a here!" he fumbles with the door handle. "Tim! Leave him!"
Duncan turns in the seat and grabs Tim's arm, forcing calm into his voice. "Listen to me. We have to go."

Tim struggles to hold his grip as the sergeant grows. The nails pierce flesh and blood wells up. Through his anger and pain Tim seems oblivious to the changes and Duncan's struggles with the door. He feels the hand on his shoulder and TDuncan's voice pierces the haze "Listen to me. We have to go."

Tim blinks, looks back to the man-beast he's choking. His mouth drops and for half a second the tension in his arms slack and it's enough for the...thing..to break free.
Tim turns to Duncan, his face pale the fear visible behind his eyes. He pushes the man towards the door as he tries to hurl himself and the other man out. "Go. Fucking GO"

The sergeant breaks his grip on Tim's arm, his nails growing thicker and even longer as he pulls them free, blood running down his fingers. "I almost feel sorry for you," he snarls out as his body begins making bone-chilling 'popping' noises, like the sounds of a million wishbones snapping in half. "Not knowing what you are, or why you were marked for death. It's just the hand you've been dealt kiddies, life's a bitch." He whips his face around, mouth extending out as his nose begins to merge down onto his upper lip, nostrils flaring wide. How he's even able to talk is mind-boggling, other than the fact that not but 10 seconds ago this... abomination... was a human being. "And then you die!" He raises an arm, trenchcoat sleeve bursting at the seams, as it wriggles into the back cabin, trying to swipe at Tim and Duncan.

A near-inaudible 'fwitch!' pierces the cabin, the slight chink of breaking glass echoing around you. The beast rolls out of the car in shock and pain, the fletching of an arrow buried deep into his throbbing neck. A quick glance at where the arrow came from reveals Claire - the bartender - 20 yards away, a large composite hunting bow in one hand, the other pulling a large arrow from a quiver at her side. "What're you waiting for; RUN!"

(You both are pretty sure you can get to her side without having the beast catch up to you, so long as you sprint. Tim, you still have your handgun with you, so you can lag behind ever so slightly if you want to take it out, slide the magazine in and at least have it ready to fire, if not be able to fire off a quick round as you run back due to your training).

Duncan's mind snaps and he enters flight mode, fear driving him in a sprint toward his glowing saviour.

Tim comes out of the car at a full sprint. He doesn't turn to look at the nightmare behind him. He doesn't reach for his gun as his training tells him. He runs. Every aspect of his being dedicated to putting distance between him and the sign of the apocalypse he just witnessed.

Tim and Duncan get to her side just as a loud snapping noise echoes out, a look back revealing the beast ripping a door clean off its hinges, using it as a pseudo-shield.

"They don't belong here, Wu," the monster growls out, slowly walking around the car. "Leave them to me to correct their mistake."

She shakes her head slightly, bow and arrow following it step for step. "They don't know know what happened, their Eyes are still closed, and they're still human. We need them to fix the mistake." She glances over to Tim and Duncan. "Besides, you know what I can do, and they're next to me. You really want to try this again, or do you want me to turn you into a charred corpse?"

After several tense moments the beast drops the door, relaxing his pose. "This isn't over, Wu. The next time I see your Transposed buddies there, their flesh is mine." And in barely a blink of the eye he sprints down the road and rounds the corner.

A heavy sigh releases from her lips as she relaxes, releasing the tension on the bow and placing the arrow back in its quiver. "Sorry about that guys, I didn't think he'd make a move that quickly. I haven't introduced myself properly: Claire Alexandra, bartender by day, supernatural hunter-slash-defender by night. I suppose you've got a lot of questions, I'll try to answer them, but let's do it somewhere a bit more comfortable." She nods her head behind her, a black sedan with dark-tinted windows waiting. "Shall we?"

(You feel that the "battle" has ended, and can relax. I'm awarding you each 3 experience up to this point in the story.)

Tim looks at the car nervous. His eyes dart back to the wreckage he just escaped from. His left hand drifts to his gun as he prays to God that this lady doesn't know it's not loaded.
"One question first. Why should listen to you? Not that I'm not glad that you kept Sgt. Williams from eating us, but uhh, Well I guess after that, I'm just not in that trusting of a mood."

She grins, nodding ever so slightly. "Smart, being careful about who to trust." She slowly slings the bow around her back, keeping an eye on the holstered gun. "Because half of the supernatural community wants you dead, and the other half wants to capture you, study you, analyze you and hope they gleam some secrets from you so they can become Immortal or worse, God." She slowly reaches up with her free hand around her shirt collar and pulls free a small leather band, a silver locket danging from it. She thumbs it open and shows a picture of a young man with jet black hair and green eyes. "Personally? I'm hoping you guys can help fix a mistake that another one of your kind did. It's hard to explain, but basically there used to be a lot more of us; more hunters, more supernatural creatures, more 'bumps in the night.' But one day about 90% of them just... disappeared. And then people like you started showing up; Those who Do Not Belong, we started calling you guys."

"I'm sure whatever you just said made perfect sense in whatever world you live in, but it doesn't answer my question. You want our help doing, something, but the last guy who ask for my help and told me to get into a car just tried went all Werewolfs in London on me. So what garuntess do I got that you aren't some other weird ugly troll wearing a pretty girl skin?"