Splinters sighed, leaning back into his chair. He drank out of his cup of coffee, thinking about what was happening in the small town of Paradise. His small town of Paradise. Vampires, zombies, werewolves. Hell, even Succubi. He chuckled. Atleast death, or eternal slavery, via Succubi would be maybe pleasurable in some way. They did prey on ones sexual appetite, after all.

A mother and father, third pair this week, had gone to him about their missing child. This had become all too common for him. Didn't mean he stopped caring. It just meant it wasn't all that rare anymore. It was almost like death from supernatural causes, aside from household accident, was becoming the leading cause of death in the small town of paradise.

He walked on over to a small gun rack. He picked up his Winchester 1895 rifle and put it in his back holster. He put his Colt Walker .44 into his leg holster. He strapped his bullet bandolier on. He put his hat on his head, fitting snugly.

And finally...He took his tin star and attached it to his shirt.

Opening the door, he walked down the dark, desolate streets of Paradise. He tapped his Colt Walker idly, before he finally got to the old church at the edge of town.

"Hello, preacher Cyrus." He tipped his hat. "Glad to see you're still alive." he said, his southern Texan accent apparent.
He looked to the new arrival. "And hello there, stranger. I'm the marshal around these here parts. Names Alex Splinters."