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

The ground crackled, the whispers from down below were starting to get more and more demonic as they were. Valefar looked at the shining orange light that appeared from the ground inches away from Trent. He snickered at the hostile man's trembling stance. 


"Fresh my memory Stacy." Valefar started. "Did I tell you that something would be in store for Hellfire Arm users who dared shoot their guns at the Representative?"


Stacy took a step back. Even as she was meters away from Trent, she felt the ground slightly tremble under her own feet. She looked up to see a dash of shadows, all circling above, each of the shadows combined themselves together, and out came crude sharp figures, almost slender like. 


"Jolly sons of bitches." Valefar looked up. 


The End of Violence