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

"Are you kidding me?" Silverton asked upon being phoned by Valefar.

Valefar himself was flying in the air, still within his human shell. He didn't want to go all over the place in his Duke form, at least not yet. His power however, was still in place, still beating like his own heart within his body, mind and soul.

He had phoned Valefar, and informed him of the situation that was currently going on.

"You sure you trust this demonic crimson dirtbag?"

"Not like I have a choice here." Valefar said in an upset manner. "Besides, even with my Duke powers I can't just tear off Chance from that crimson beating heart."

"Now hang on." Silverton interrupted. "How exactly can't you get Chance off from that thing."

"We're here!" Karmoz yelled as Valefar and all of the other demons stopped within Concrete Park. The beating of a heart was booming around them, and soon they turned to a building where the heart was seen. "Holy moly."

The Violent Goodbye