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.