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're going back to your initial role then." Barbie blurted out as she crossed her arms.

"Would you believe me if all of the people in this station were putting their hope into you and the other demons? They were ready to give it all up but then they found out about you and the others, being more better than Bright or that Denton fellow."

"Yeah, the same fellow who started this all."

"Tell me now." Barbie said, walking around Valefar's posture, her eyes looking up and down at his demonic Assault form, his skin being as thick as armor, dark as well. She then saw his orange eyes once more, with his needle like pupils. "Why this Denton did what he did?"

"Long story short Barb, Gunsmith had to kill his friends cause he needed their Hellfire Arms to maintain order in Hell. Yes, even downstairs, in a place like that, law and order needs to be maintained."

Words of Valefar, II