I find myself in a puzzlement.
The Dutchman had told us tales of supernatural, tales I chose not to believe. Thinking them fantasies of an otherwise stable man, I agreed to help him find a killer, which he described as either a succubus or a vampyre. It seemed prudent to aid him seek the murderer so I placed the hunt for Reggie Rock aside, and teamed myself with the Dutchman, a native fellow called Dead Feathers (I thought we gave these people proper names nowadays) and a quiet woman introduced as Lonesome.
Progress was stilted at first, we believed the killer a woman, who was then run out of town, and I must admit the usual tricks of the bounty hunter didn’t reveal much of her whereabouts. The Dutchman’s claim to know the activities of the so-called supernatural also came to naught, and I wondered at our chances of success with the failure of my profesional skills and his academic research.
That was before I became a target myself however. Visited in the night by a young mexican girl who may have taken advantage of my person, I may have reacted harshly (in fact I recall threatening death to everyone from my companions to an old woman who only committed the crime of having a rosebush).
But still, even after a second attack by a creature who seemed impervious to our bullets, we have little to go on. The Hunter’s knowledge fails him, and how can I detain a spirit. Time will tell, but I don’t know how much time I have left.