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

How long has it been since this crisis ended? Valefar thought as he continued to hold Orville up in the air, ignoring the faces the hostages had now painted with fear.

"Wait! Wait! Valefar right? I'll help you get to Wickle."

"What? Of course they know! Who else could fly in the air or fighting of those monsters from before, when the city was under same crazy ass weather!"

"Hell I don't even know who you're fighting for right now." Orville added, still screaming.

"I fought for humanity, I fought for some allies of mine, some of them gone." Valefar spoke. "Now? I'm just getting some things done before the future arrives. Now lead me to Wickle, and maybe I'll try to pull strings so you won't go to Hell for fucking stealing and keeping people in deep shit."

Passing Through the Bay, II