Gunfight at Full Moon

"You're not a very peaceful man, are you Trent?" Chance said as he was holding Showdown in his right hand.

He and Stacy Hazelton looked at the amount of destruction Trent had caused prior to arriving at the scene. Several cars, including the black and whites, were mangled like crumpled up soda cans. Trent himself didn't say much. His eyes were giving a deathly stare towards Chance Gordon.

"No, I'm a fucking potato." Trent said with a chuckle. "I ain't giving up this Hellfire Arm, ain't gonna get myself back to Ryder's, not again, not never!."

Unfortunately, this calls for getting yourself six feet under ground. Chance thought as he brought up Showdown, and fired another shot like before. As the bullet came out, it curved around the area, heading towards Trent.

Trent himself punched the bullet. He saw a miniscule speck of skin flying off the flesh of his hand. He winced once more.

Showdown had a similar mechanism to six shooters. With the 5 bullets he has, Chance rapidly pressed down onto the gun, before the shots were fired.

Only 2 of them made contact with Trent's upper chest.

Dammit, Chance thought. Valefar was right, he did need practice at some point.

Stacy was up. She closed one eye and looked through the circular ring that was embedded on top of the Hellfire Arm rifle. The squeeze of the trigger fired a bullet and hit Trent in the upper shoulder. As she fired her rounds, Chance opened Showdown's cylinder, and strangely, from his jacket's pocket, he took out a brand new set of bullets.

Guess they never really ran out, Chance spoke. But I don't know how much power this particular Hellfire Arm is. He saw Valefar on top of a building, surveying the entire scene.

"I know you can't bother us Hellfire Arm users, but surely you could give me some advice on Trent!?"

"Uh…" Valefar first spoke.

"Come on Val! You told me how to deal with the Rat King back at Sunshine Heights."

I did, Valefar thought in his mind. His face was unsure. He snapped his fingers, and out came the telephone that was used to call the Gunsmith. "Hang on Chance! Let me call the guy and ask him again, I gotta make sure he's fine with me telling these things!"

"Oh for the love of-" Chance spoke before he ducked a shot from Trent's American Violence.

Chaos was unfolding for Stacy and Chance, as Valefar rolled the dials on the phone, and was waiting for the other phone down under Hell for his boss to pick it up.

"Come on boss, now's not really the time to be hanging out to be torturing the souls." he said to himself slightly before eventually he got a voice at the other line. "Boss! Phew, a relief." before he spoke, he felt screaming in his ear. "Yeah boss, I know, we're still gathering the Hellfire Arms, it's just that we're trying to either kill the people who have them, or quickly recover before any other human gets in on their dirty hands."

Another scream went into Valefar's ear. "What? Misery? What about it?"

"Valefar!" Chance screamed as he continued to run and duck for cover from Trent, who did something similar. Stacy was supporting Chance meters away from her, running at a certain vantage point to shoot the hostile Hellfire Arm user.

"Almost Chance!" Valefar said to the Gunsmith on the other line."Oh, that? That was Chance Gordon. He just got Showdown." The Representative heard what his boss had to say. "I know, I know. Back in the Old West it was too powerful, bullet wise. Wait, what?"

Valefar's eyes widened at what the Gunsmith spoke. "Seriously, Chance can still use that ability? Holy shit. Oh wait, what was that." A pause in between the call. "I see. By the way, do I get the pass to help the MPD with everything about the Arms?" A smile soon formed on Valefar's face. "Yeah! Sure. I got it, don't interfere with the Hellfire Arm user's contracts or directly hurt them. Got it."

Valefar closed down the phone, before he positioned his hands against his mouth. "Hey Chance! My boss said you can still use Showdown's main ability!"

Main ability? Chance thought as he shot another curved bullet straight at Trent.

"Just make sure you're facing Trent in a straight path and nobody else is around you within….a few meters!"

"Hang on? How many meters!?"

"Just do it." Valefar rolled his eyes.

Chance ran towards Trent's direction. The Haverton positioned himself in order to get aligned with the same path as Trent, facing in the front direction. The Haverton then proceeded to clench Showdown. He felt a surge go through his heart, and a small shockwave sent dust off the streets flying.

Another surge appeared, this once was circular, and it passed through Trent as well as Stacy.

"We have a Showdown boys!" Valefar said out loud like a sports announcer. He dropped himself off the building he was previously on before landing on his two feet. Stacy's eyes widened at the Representative. The human disguised demon didn't flinch at that landing. A normal human would have either hurt or even broken their legs, but not Valefar.

Stacy saw a line formed around Chance, Trent and the area they were in. Even from where she was standing, she could see a glimpse of flames covering the circular line. She did not see a wall.

Yet her finger felt a slight burn when she attempted to get her hand into the circular line. She winced at the pain, and Fang fell off her back strap, prompting the Hellfire Arm to turn into its dog form.

"Sorry Stacy! But Showdown has a particular ability of its own." Valefar spoke. "It's just between Chance and Trent. You hear that guys!" He yelled at the two Hellfire Arm users who were battling each other out.

"All Hellfire Arm users within that circle are balanced out! Everyone is equally worthless in that fight! Well, not worthless, but it's much more of a fair fight between you two fucking meatheads."

Trent looked at his Hellfire Arm as Valefar said that. The man saw American Violence was no longer having that black and red heavy aura it used to. It felt different now, even how much it weighed compared to when he used it the very first time.

"You son of a bitch!" Trent yelled at Valefar.

The Representative smirked and laughed. "I ain't a son of a bitch. I wasn't born from a woman." He looked at Stacy who gave him a strange look. Fang was also looking at him with a tilted head. "Do you really want to know how demons are formed?" As Valefar said that, Stacy just turned her face away, back at watching Chance. "I figured not."

Fair fight, huh? Chance felt the warmer grip on Showdown. As he stared against the body of the Hellfire Arm revolver, he felt another surge pass through him. A whisper came to his ear.

'A real man', the voice started to say, 'is a killer'.

Chance felt his skin run cold. The words that were echoed into his ear were not far from his grandfather Ulysses when it came to killing, and the context of it.

The voice spoke again, it was calm, yet rough. 'Shoot when the time is right, no cowardly shots, no dishonorable kills'

Chance let out a cold breath. It was cold enough that he could see the smoke decimating. Who was your original owner? His head spoke to the voice. Chance holstered Showdown onto his belt strap.

Trent felt something on his hips. He looked down to see a belt strap attached to him. There was an empty holster, and its size was enough to store American Violence. It hit him, what was going on now.

Trent grinned, as he holstered American Violence, before he had his hand next to his gun. Chance did the same, and slowly shifted to the left. Trent shifted to the right. The two then shifted opposite directions for a few seconds.

Chance's heart was beating, and he positioned himself straight forward from Trent. The distance between them was far, but their bullets could make it. Trent was breathing heavily. Although his gun felt weaker than it was before because of the balancing, he felt the voices of American Violence in his head.

Kill him.

Make him suffer.

Just a matter of where I hit him, Trent thought of his opponent. His hands were ready at American Violence, same as Chance's hands were ready with Showdown.

Chance's heart beated harder, and was slower than its normal pace. Valefar saw the two men facing each other, and saw how empty the area was. Damn, the Representative thought, it really be like this.

Chance felt his palms sweating. Being in the war was still reasonable, because you could still run amok around the battlefield. Here, it was all about the timing. Chance blinked his eyes, and by the time he finished blinking, he saw Trent slowly grabbing American Violence from his holster.

Chance swiftly took out Showdown, and a piercing gunshot was loud enough to pierce the skies.