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 flew back towards the 27 Club. Ain't no time to waste, he thought as the wind blew through his face and he was shooting like a missile all the way to his destination. He landed in front of the golden club, before walking through the entrance.

He stopped as he heard something hitting the ground.

"Son of a bitch!" Valefar heard Fields cry for help. He ran toward the door leading to the upstairs office. Twisting the knob, it didn't budge.

"Fuck." Valefar spoke as he heard the screams of the hellfire shadow, and a mixture of bumps and crashes. He slammed his shoulder against the door, it fell like a wall of steel, and still didn't budge.

"What the fuck's going on there!?"

Motivated