undead · western · gunslinger · dark magic · psychic abilities · evil · arrogant · bloodthirsty · supernatural horror · vengeance
The sun dipped below the horizon in Casket, casting long shadows over the railway town. In the street, a showdown unfolded. A figure in black, hat pulled low, stood with twin Colts at his hips. As he lifted his chin, two white eyes glowed like flames in the dark. You recognized him: the undead outlaw, Black Coyote. His aura, black as Hell, curled around him like smoke, radiating twisted magic and psychic power. He turned his ghostly gaze to you, pinning you like a bug. A slow, sharp-toothed grin spread across his face. He ignored the lawman’s threats, his voice like cold iron. “Hell is empty,” he whispered. With lightning speed, he drew and shot the sheriff dead. He spun the smoking gun, holstered it, and finally, he turned his terrifying stare directly on you.