The Good Guys

Chapter 1

"So where are we now, Edward?" I ask, trying to see through the fume-filled air.
"Call me Richtofen. And I believe we are somewhere in England." Richtofen, the crazy German scientist says between coughs.
"Are we in London?" Nikolai Belinski, the Russian one with an obsession with Vodka and bears. Honestly, I wouldn't be too surprised if he turned out to be a bear. He looks the part.
"Yes, yes. I believe we might just be." Richtofen says.
The dark smoke is stinging my eyes, and I can barely see a thing. A light is visible in the distance, coming closer.
I can make out what seems to be a car.
"Get off the road!" Shouts a young man, holding the torch.
The car, and who I assume to be some sort of servant.
Takeo, the Japanese samurai guy, asks "What manner of creature is this?" with genuine curiosity and a hint of fear.
"Come on, Takeo, you've seen a car before." I shake my head.
"Get off the damn road!" The man says again, now about 10 meters from us. The car is moving VERY slowly. You'd be quicker walking.
The four of us move to the side of the road.
The person inside the car looks... odd. Misshapen. I squint my eyes, and... oh my god. Does he have tentacles?
"Hey. Richtofen. Get a load of this guy," I say, pointing at him.
We walk towards him, and he does indeed have tentacles.
He's an apothicon.
A human sized one like, the Shadowman.
Richtofen calmly takes his pistol out of its holster, raises it at the apothicon, and fires. It slumps, a large bloody wound in its temple.
The young man with the torch looks into the car, then back at Richtofen.
He starts shouting for help, and Richtofen shoots him too.
The sound of the gunshot rings through the streets, interrupting the silence.
I stare at the poor boy as he falls to the ground, and see my reflection in his dull lifeless eyes.
"What the Hell Richtofen!" I shout.
"You just murdered that boy in cold blood!" 
Richtofen shrugs indifferently.
"We came here to save our souls, Dempsey. We can't let him get in our way."
He sighs.
"I do not believe any of our... other selves are here. We are in some sort of alternate dimension where apothicons are royalty. Or very important people, at least. And-"
I pull back my fist and punch him across the face, knocking him to the ground.
He groans, holding his jaw.
He slowly pushes himself up, and staggers to his feet.
"I have had enough of your rampage, of all the lives you've ruined to save your own ass." I snarl, my face right in his. I can feel his warm breath on my face.
I turn on my heel, to face a squadron of police officers with large batons.
Oh yes, of course. I forgot to introduce myself.
I'm Tank Dempsey, and we're in deep shit.