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

Holt saw the detective named Kane lighting up a cigar as the crowd began to separate themselves from the previous spectacle of the homeless man being possessed by a demon. The dark red demon itself, bearing dual horns on its head in addition to having a large jaw. Holt didn't hesitate to tell the detective what had been going on, including the details of the homeless man serving in the war.

"Yes." Holt spoke saying his testimony in front of Kane, although the boxer soon had his eyes locked onto the Haverton detective's gold badge, which had the American eagle as its logo, spreading its wings.

"Orson Kane." Kane spoke his full name. "Senior Haverton detective."

"Senior? You must really be up there in the ranks then." Holt commented.

"I only do what my job requires me to do."

"What's with the Hellfire Arm then?"

Raining Cash