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

"You good!?" Rosenthal exclaimed to Chance who was leaning in the passenger seat. They were rushing through Camden avenue, and made a giant left turn onto Nova street. Sirens were still wailing from afar.

"Why the hell was Bright there!?" the commissioner asked. This was the first time he had ever seen the crimson man himself, the same perpetrator of the crimson murders that appeared 2 years ago, when Drip Work Inc. had received its name. The wounds on Chance were still healing, they weren't a hundred percent fixed at all.

"I don't think I ever got to know the transparent man that was fused together with you Chance."

"Names Buster Hardin, I used to own Showdown." Hardin spoke immediately. Admittedly he probably hasn't shown himself literally to all of Chance's allies, but perhaps by the time they get back toward the 9th precinct, he might as well do just that.

Things on Repeat