Two years ago, I watched my family be murdered for no reason. Mistaken identity. I looked at their corpses and threw my old life behind. I found the best gunfighter in the country. Sobered him up. Paid him generously to teach me. I was a rich girl with prospects of marriage and raising a family. I had never touched a gun. I believed that people were fundamentally good. All of this had to change. It was hard. But I kept the image of my family in my head at all times. And now here I stand, facing my enemy. The town clock strikes noon. We reach for our guns. The bullet went right between his eyes. It had been a long time coming, but now I felt I could truly call myself a slayer of monsters.