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

"Think you can transport Hunch back to the 9th precinct?" Chance spoke to Valefar. His tone was bitter. Hunch's words about the identity of the Fiend who freed the arms was getting into effect.

Chance got his answer, but it wasn't really the end of his duty.

Valefar nodded towards Chance's request. Approaching Hunch's unconscious body, Valefar positioned Hunch's arms and legs to be more straight. He snapped his fingers, a large orange circle forming underneath Hunch's body, before it disappeared in a flash.

"Everyone there will probably shit their pants when Hunch arrives there and bumps himself onto the floor." Valefar said.

"We'll need to head to back there as well, strategize the next step in this crisis."

"Right." Valefar began to speak. "I just wanna clarify that I had zero involvement in Denton's Hellfire Arm being able to do this crazy shit. Brennan M1's a real kick, but allowing a user to get into Hell-"

A Simple Drive