Mother of God, Jacob muttered, pulling off his wide-brim hat and mopping in his brow.

How the hell could it be so damn hot without a lick of sun?

He cast a baleful look at the cloud-ridden sky, which had just begun to pour with rain.

Jacob sighed,

This is where you bring us, he said to a silent horse,

who ignored him, chewing on a browning piece of shrub. Two weeks in the saddle, you bring us

to this shit splat of a place. He looked down at the town surrounded by murky swamp land.

Still, Jacob knew there was some kind of work for him

here. Years ago, he had been a small town preacher, until one dark night, something from man's

worst nightmares, brutally slaughtered his poor wife Jane. But Jacob had his revenge. The very next night,

as he sat alone in the ruins of his life, God had spoken

to him, showed him through visions of the way of the blade, fire, and holy silver. Best of all,

God had shown him the whereabouts of the creature that had so callously slaughtered his beloved

Jane. Jacob had tracked the beast and cut it down.

Since then, he had killed many such things, creatures that lived in shadow and slinked through

the dark corners of the world. Always on the trail, the gray rider plagued by visions and dreams.

Yeah, I guess you dream, too.

He cracked a smile, patting the big Mustang, fondly on its thick neck.

Wouldn't be the first time, he said, straightening.

God works in mysterious ways, he sighed, nudging the horse forward.

Insects buzzing all around him as he headed into town.

The town itself wasn't much of a town, more of a collection of decrepit-looking huts and

...