Can’t wake up in sweat ‘Cause it ain’t over yet Still dancing with your demons Victim of your own creation -Avenged Sevenfold, Nightmare. Dojoville VR: Simulation (Craft) - Belltown Tuesday Mar. 15, 1864, 7:03 PM John “JT” Truman, Marshal     His duster was coated in more dirt than normal, this time. Belltown was a cruel mistress and she intended to send a sandstorm through the town, forcing a coarse and gritty material through the small crevices of JT’s duster where they would rest, though the big issue for him was the fact that it obscured his vision, among other things. Whatever, he thought, he only needed to get into the nearby bar. But wait… Why? He didn’t even know, really, it was just some strange urge that was driving him into the tavern for him to fill his cup and spend his night with some sleazy waitress who couldn’t make enough in a night to buy herself a drink. JT cherished the thought, knowing it was usually him buying the rounds.     Then out of the blue, a creature would find itself jumping onto the back of the Marshal, biting deep into his shoulder. The metallic flesh on his body tore like paper with the puncture, which prompted JT to reach back and grab the creature. His index finger and thumb dug an iron grip inside the eyes, where he pulled whatever was biting him off and in front of him via the space between its eyes. The thing was revealed then, a steel grey-furred would that stared down the cowboy with missing eyes. It lunged up, but JT grasped it by its neck and choked it into unconsciousness. More howls were behind him, though when he turned back to see what made the noise, it wasn’t a beast - It was something worse.     A figure walked towards him, wrapped in rags of crimson and brown, with not a piece of flesh in sight. The tattered clothing blew in the sandstorm behind him, though the figure was eerily clear - From the revolvers on his hips to the oversized knife in his hand, and the lack of armour on his visage. It strutted through the sandstorm on its way to the armoured cowboy, who drew his revolver and took shots. The first fell in the figure’s chest and the second followed suit, though he kept walking forwards like nothing happened. One aimed for the head, which it passed through, though this time it drew blood. A seeping black colour, like the nanomachines of JT’s body.     It reached for its back and pulled out a long, red bar with silver tips. JT recognized it was a magnet, and the blood running down its forehead and trailing down its cheeks started to solidify into drops of stiffened clusters, the nanomachines having condensed and moved into more of a liquidish state. JT could feel the nanites in his body do the same, each acting more like blood than a quick wound solvent like he usually had them being. The last three shots of his sidearm quickly rang out, this time aimed for the chest again, though each shot was simply swatted away by the green knife in the hand of the monstrosity - The one who had finally arrived to JT.     The Marshal’s gun found its place in his holster as the bandaged man swung his blade for the throat of the cowboy, though he quickly brought the blade down halfway through its swing. JT had leaned back to avoid the initial movement though it found itself now cutting through his lower abdomen, leaving a searing red cut along him. JT quickly bursted forwards and delivered a savagely thrown punch to the jaw of the creature, who reared its head back in pain and stepped back. It lunged forwards as JT was returning to a combative stance, though he barely managed to extend a foot forwards and kick the chest of the strange figure, knocking him back a few feet.     “Eyes up Marshal,” the figure coldly said to JT, catching the augged cowboy looking at the weapon he was no drawing. While JT reached down to the bowie knife at his own hip, the figure dashed forwards and made an attempt to slash across the arm of JT as it was on his hilt. The marshal quickly ripped his dagger from its slot and dragged it up across the bandaged man’s own, sending his arm flying into the air as he knocked it away. The figure spun in a circle and drew a second weapon from its back, driving it into JT’s chest as he came back around with the second knife. JT brought his weapon up to the chest of the BM, who pulled the dagger up JT’s chest and carved a path along his useless trachea and jawline. JT was dripping black onto the ground now, though he made one more move by grasping the throat of the bandaged figure and withdrew the knife from its chest, driving it instead up the bottom of his jawline and rooting it up into the creature’s brainless head.     The bandages dissolved into nothingness as the figure dropped its weapons, and JT’s Nanocyte wisped away with the sandstorm. It subsided and JT would feel his wounds slowly fade, all the while he waited on another challenger. ((Open))