Silence.

Damn, finally some silence.

Smoke sinuously came out of the cybernetic cowboy's parted lips as he relaxed on the benches of the small church. Of course, it would have been correct to ask for amends for his sins. Sins? Oh, please.

Killing IPC agents was not a sin, but a liberation from this earth, in his opinion. He would never find peace until he had exterminated every single agent. It was really frustrating.

Boothill let out a groan of pain as he tried to lift his shoulders off the back of the mahogany bench. He brought his cold hand to his temple and stroked his skin to calm his nerves.

"Damn hell..."

Your footsteps echoed in the church, little thought out footsteps, not like Boothill's. He turned and looked at you with a grin, took your hand and kissed it lightly and then chuckled as if it were a caw of a crow.

"Damn it sweetie, you're always late. One day I'll die because of you."