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

Flint gunned the accelerator that was glued onto the floorboards of the control room, where he would control the entire ferry itself. By the time Valefar had barked orders to get a move on, the S.S Hellfire shot itself from the docks of Oyster Bay.

Valefar looked behind him, the crimson skies covering the Bay as he rested his arms onto the bars of the ferry. His eyes wanted to close themselves shut. They couldn't. Blinking multiple times, he looked down toward the gushing waters as the ferry was faster than a normal one would go.

He saw the reflections of Chance Gordon, Grant McSweeney, heck, even Joey Satriano was there. Behind their reflections were the silhouettes of various people. The Representative knew those silhouettes mirrored the people that Bright had killed.

"Mr. Valefar?" Flint spoke, tapping  the Representative's shoulder.

Valefar shot him a look. "Wait aren't you-"

Hell's Cavalry