Buckle started to lose his mind; he felt sanity ebbing away in almost physical convulsions. His eyes fixated on the creature, that he had earlier thought to be a surgically altered corpse. It was real sure enough, and hideous at that. Slowly, he stepped back from it and sat himself down on one of the pews. Taking a deep breath, and wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his sleeve, he attempted to regain his composure. 

"So, Mr. White, are there many of those 'things' out there?" He asked. "Because I be thinking that you should've sent for the God darned Army, than for a few gunslingers."