Eric Smith was sitting on a barrel at the docks, staring out into the dark ocean. Whispers echoed from the black waters and distant screams were heard from the other side of the red clouds that forever rested on the surface. There were endless movement underwater as thousands of damned souls thrashed about, struggling helplessly to reach the surface only to be stuck in place. Lightning cracked the sky but no thunder sounded. Eric noticed a black coffin appearing out of nowhere and floating towards the dock.

"Oh, goody! A newcomer!" he exclaimed excitedly.

He leapt off the barrel and darted for the edge to await the coffin. When the coffin came to a stop at the dock, Eric grabbed a long hook, reached down, and opened the coffin. Inside was a young man, in his near mid-20s with short darkened hair, lying on his back with his arms folded and eyes closed. The man opened his eyes and immediately he shot straight up, rocking the coffin as he did. Eric shook his head. "Hang on. You're about to fall in. Don't rock the coffin!" he warned.

The man grabbed ahold of the hook and Eric helped him out onto the dock. The man looked about, confused and scared. "Easy. You just got here. Do you remember your name?" Eric asked. The man nodded and struggled to speak for a moment.

"Logan," he said finally, "Logan Cross."

Eric smiled. "Nice to meet you, Logan. I'm Eric." He noticed something on Logan. "Hey, I see you got a gun too!"

Logan looked down and sure enough, he had a belt with a holster wrapped around his waist with a revolver. He took it out and saw that it was a solid black Colt Peacemaker with a silver stripe along the handle. He opened the wheel chamber and found six bullets inside. "Six bullets..." Eric muttered, "always six bullets..."

Confused, Logan looked at him. "What do you mean?" 

Eric sighed, "Every newcomer that arrives here carries a six-shooter like yours and they are only given six bullets."

Logan looked at his gun. Six bullets? That doesn't make sense. Then he realized something. "Wait... where am I?" Eric let out a snicker. "Why, you're in Hell!" he answered. His smile went away when he noticed Logan's confusion. "It's true. You're in Hell. As in eternal damnation and all." Logan then looked about his surroundings. He looked at the distant clouds, the dark ocean, every thing. "This doesn't look much like the Hell described in church."

Eric held up a finger, "Ah, but this is a different part of Hell; this place is known as Grim's Shadow. A long time ago, The Devil made a deal to set up a country in Hell that is said to be free from torment. Who The Devil made a deal with, no one knows. That's how Grim's Shadow is made. However, there's a catch; anyone who comes here has a target on their back and everyone is given a gun with six bullets. Make no mistake, Logan, for you and I are also targets, even for each other. Not everyone is willing to withhold from shooting one another and sooner or later, someone will die for the second time. But if you die for the second time, that's when you are taken into the fiery torment you and I heard about in church when we were alive on the earth. Being shot is not the only thing to worry about here. There are creatures and forms of traps that would end your life as well if you're not too careful. The dark ocean you entered through is among the traps. I can't tell you how many times I've seen folks try to swim through it in an attempt to escape, only to sink and remain trapped for eternity. A lot of residents here try to keep away from the ocean out of fear that something will snag them and bring them in, which is why I'm here."

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Logan looked at the waters and he can see the terrified souls underwater.

"So why am I here instead of the fiery Inferno?"

Eric smiled. "Well, only certain folks are selected upon death and judgment to come here. That is, folks sent to Hell. Whether it's a random pick or a "lesser of two evils" sort of thing, I can't tell. I can tell you right now that this isn't Purgatory. In fact, it's far from it. It's more like we're all just living on borrowed time before we are put into the fiery pits and we just have to enjoy as much of it as possible. Pretty much making your peace."

"I see." Logan adjusted his belt a little. "So why the six bullets and what happens if I run out?"

Eric gave a shrug. "I'm guessing you just start off with six bullets. If you run out, pray you're not in a situation where you'll get shot. Unfortunately, the bullets do nothing against the creatures so I wouldn't bother wasting them. Now, if you're out of bullets, you can either gather more from the person you killed or go to the town of Melas in the center of the Grim's Shadow where the supplier will give you more, depending on how many marks you have on you."

"Marks?" Logan asked. Eric rolled up his sleeve and revealed five lines that appeared to be burned onto his skin. "Each time you kill someone, you get a mark on you. It's like keeping some sort of score. It's also painful but brief."

Logan checked for marks but he found none on himself. "You haven't killed yet." Eric chuckled.

Logan lowered his sleeve. "So how do I get to Melas?"

Eric's smile went away. "Why would you want to go there, aside from getting more bullets?" "I might try and meet some people there."

Eric shook his head. "I wouldn't do that. Any one of them can kill you on the spot before you know it. Some of them also don't look human anymore. I'd steer clear if I were you."

Logan rolled his eyes in annoyance. "Look, just tell me. I can handle myself."

Eric took a deep breath, forgetting how naïve most newcomers are.

"You will have to travel through the Hanging Forest, cross the Sinner's Graveyard, and climb the Hills of Woe. Then you will be there."

Logan did a final check on his gun begore holstering it. "Thank you. It was a pleasure meeting you."

He left.

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