"So this place is where you have gone to Abigail," Vergil said to himself as he sat down on his bed. There was a hint of both surprise and annoyance in his voice as he sat there with most of his gear put away but a pistol in his hands. "It is sure of a town to go to, but why this place?" Asking himself a question that he knows he can not answer for now. His father's books could barely prepare him for a town like this, and who knows what the rest of the townfolks are like. Maybe his father would be better suited to his place. Vergil knows he has more experience when dealing with the supernatural than he does. But he is back home in safe care and resting from his wounds. When Vergil left, his father could barely walk, let alone track down Abigail, and now here he is. In Fortune's End and with strange townsfolk. Surely, one of them has to know about Abigail and where she is.  

The sound of a sudden gunshot alerted him, and he gripped his pistol, but as he checked his pocket watch, he saw what the time was. He realized it was just Thomas and relaxed. Surely, there has to be a better way of telling people what time it was. Vergil is not sure if he can sleep if a gunshot goes off every hour and in this heat, but he has to try. So before he went to bed and stored his pistol under his pillow. Vergil gave one last look at his pocket watch, and a thought came to mind. "Why take that book, Abigail, and are you still you?" Sadness in his voice and the fact she is a dead woman walking. She might just fit in this town, and that might make his job harder. So with that last thought, Vergil after closing the covers of his window. He went to bed and just hoped he could get some sleep in. 

......

To say that Vergil slept last night is an understatement. The man barely slept as he thought he would, and the never setting sun did not help things. Along with the hourly gunshot, but he knew it was morning thanks to his pocket watch and after shaking himself up as a way to wake up. He got out of bed, collected his things, and made sure that he was not missing anything. Since the last thing he needs is to learn that the townsfolk steal from outsiders.

However, a thought did come to him. If the townsfolk were as... strange could be a polite word for them. Then what is the food and drink like? That question he did not like thinking about, and this town must have something for people to eat. He is not excited to find out what. Still, if anything, his father and his father's books have taught him. Not all of them eat or prey on people. But he will have to find that one out for himself in this town, and that thought did make him uneasy.  

Still, he has a job to do, and he needed answers. So as awake as he could be, Vergil, got up and as he readied himself to begin his hunt for Abigail. Though he mutter something to himself, "please let there be no skinwalkers in this town." Sounding almost like a prayer as he opened the door and left his room. Where he would soon see a fellow traveler with cigar smoke around him. Vergil could not see his eyes as the man's hat shadow hid them, but he could hear his staggering breathing. 

Not a good sign to see a traveler like this, but, given the state of the town. He should not be surprised and merely respectly tipped his hat to the man as a way to help him relax before heading downstairs. He is not keen to see what the other townsfolk look like and what other strangeness awaits him in the saloon. But strange times, here they come.