Devil's Advocate

The corners of his lips lifted into a smirk, and the detective's stomach plummeted as the barrel of a gun pressed against his forehead. "Salt can't save you now, Tinsley."

A string of horrific deaths plague the town of Sunny Heights shortly after it's anarchical takeover by the infamous mob leader Ricky Goldsworth. Pitched into a abysmal hell of death, violence, and destruction, detective C.C. Tinsley struggles to make sense of the murders and uncover the perpetrator before he becomes the next victim. However, he didn't expect the investigation to tangle with the paranormal world...

"You don't get it, do you?" Her voice, high-pitched and faint, sent a shiver down his spine. The temperature seemed to drop ten degrees, and the trail of steam from his coffee that lazily drifted into the air moments before was nowhere to be found.
"Rose..." He trailed off as he glanced up, horrified at the sight before him. Rose's eyes glistened, despite containing a black deeper than the mind could imagine. A pair of dark, mangled horns sprouted from her head, contorting and twisting to create a crown only the devil himself could fathom. But the thing that terrified Tinsley the most wasn't the newfound horns, or the eyes, despite him being able to see his own fearful reflection in them.
It was the smile.
Deep crimson blood dripped from fangs that peeked out of wickedly curved lips. Rose slowly leant forward, and a single drop fell into Tinsley's abandoned coffee as he watched in horror.
"You see, Charles," she purred, running a cold, slimy finger down his face, "some people never left."