TaintedMetal

Once upon a millennium ago, there was a Gunsmith from Hell, and he made hellish guns with abilities that were beyond human: Hellfire Arms. Of course, using these guns required a certain price: the human soul

But a "mishap" in Hell has caused many of the Arms to drop in the east coast city of Morissey, where not everyone is exactly a saint

In this fantastical representation of 1940's America, private investigator Chance Gordon works with the city's finest in order to get the Hellfire Arms back where they belong before the human race is slaughtered by Hellfire.

Bullets will be exchanged, and bodies will hit the floor.

Drip Work

Valefar grunted as he slowly went back to his human disguise. This was always the case when he had to make a deal with some human who got a hold of a Hellfire Arm. He felt his demonic body distorted back into his human form, starting with the outline followed by his arms and legs. His claws slowly twisted back into fingers. 


Out of all of the damn times to call me, the Representative thought and grumbled as he went through the process. Right now, he was in a red hued space, gone from the view of any living creature. The transformation from his demonic form to his human shell was now in the process. Soon, his eyes were shut by the space. 


As he opened, he found himself in a room. It was a clear and clean room with glass windows and wooden frames. He felt the softness of the marble floor beneath him. He soon heard rough whispers, almost demonic like, disemboweled and wicked. 


The Grand Strategy