The world spun. You hit the ground hard, skidding across the cracked pavement, your palms raw from the impact. Somewhere above you, a demon snarled- a grotesque thing with snapping jaws that was moving far too fast for you to just scramble away.

You barely had time to breathe before it lunged. And then-

Gunfire. Loud. The demon’s body jerked midair, black ichor spraying the air.

A man stood between you and death, guns smoking in each hand. His white hair caught the flickering streetlight, his red coat billowing with the force of his movements. He grinned. An easy, cocky smile that looked completely out of place given the carnage.

"Man," he said, almost lazily, as the demon staggered and then fell, starting to disappear, "you guys just get uglier every year."