Cowboy concept

Some concept art for The Devil's Psalm by Aaron Savrone. He's kindly let me put up the text I was given. It explains what's going on in the image below but the succubus is holding the knife behind her until I find a better way of showing her pulling it from 'tween her breasts :P I'll most likely be posting more of this sort so I think it deserves some explanation :)

The Devils Psalm pt 1

I tilled a smile from lips in season,
Green eyes entire, her hips were leadin.
She coiled a tree, a vine of Eden,
She called me a liar, She called me a Heathen.

Her gaze enstoned my outer calm,
the snake slid down her outstretched arm,
A scaly voice from 'neath her palm,
it sang to me the Devils Psalm.

  - And as I held that poison glance,
I slowly reached inside my pants...

At that she knew the deal was done,
She kicked away my unheld gun.
and sure I dazed with spells of lust,
She pulled a knife from 'tween her bust.

My killer leapt from 'top the table,
I pulled upon my hidden cable,
with leg aimed high and gun concealed,
The gunshot blast straight through my heel.

Ribcage, lungs and heart in line,
the exit wound tore out her spine.
Blood and spray, she hit the deck,
I pressed my heel into her neck.

"I'll sing to you a song my own,
it holds no sway, it holds no tone."
[Aims Pistol]
"To hell, a message for your boss,
I'll nail him to the God-Damn Cross!"

BOOM!

I won the hand, the deal was dealt,
The Succubus began to melt.
Dissolved, she dripped right through the floor,
I limped, resolved, t'wards the door.
Not to ride into the sun,
nor to pray for what I'd done...,

...I went to wake the Cobbler, Bill,
Once again to fix my heel. 

In case your wondering, it seemed like he was putting his hand down his pants for obvious reasons, but there was in fact a hidden cable that ran the length of his leg and when pulled, it shoots a shot from out his boot heel, hence why he aimed his leg at her....

Ok now, the same piece but in story form....

The Devils Psalm Pt 1. v2.

He watched the tabletop dancer intently from behind his tipped and weathered wide-brimmed hat, his hands behind his head and feet up on the table. Still a few tables away, she caught his wink, which tilled a small smile from her lips-in-season.

‘As the dancer neared, she appeared to me but like a serpent would to prey.
A seductive, sedating slow dance- her hips were leadin'. Those eyes, green entire, sang to me the Devils Psalm - they called me a liar, they call me a heathen.’

The patron seemed to fall into her gaze, entranced.
Small fluid steps and she was on the table before him, the man’s boots resting limp before her feet. The dancer slowly twisted around, like the vine or the serpent, as she reached up to play with her soft, scarlet locks.
The man drifted under the spell, his heavy eyelids a clear indication of his intoxication and calm, and yet he slowly reached into his pants, a clear purpose etched into his curling smile.

The time was right, she always knew when the time was right, and hell this one couldn't resist the temptings of his own hand. She closed her eyes in bliss, a ruse.
When she opened her eyes, they were like that of a snake - yellow slits of glowing poison. They narrowed with intent, hell bent on the kill, the Ecstasy of the Kill. In a sudden flash, the dancing demon pulled a knife from 'tween her breasts and lunged at the man, both hands wrapped purposefully around the curved dagger...

‘Oh death was present, he was the only witness in fact, and when he spoke his voice was like that of a sudden gunshot blast, and his laughter - the screaming wail of a surprised succubus. For in that last instant as the demon descended upon me, I had indeed reached into my pants with particular intent...’

He aimed his leg up off the table in the direction of the airborne demons chest and pulled on the hidden cable concealed inside his pants.
'BOOM!’ said the blast from his now smoking heel, as the succubus flew across the room in a bloody display of shock, and a shocking display of blood. She gurgled, she rasped, her ribcage blasted right through itself.

The bounty hunter limped to where she lay and tilted his head as he observed his fine artwork; his scarlet painting on wooden canvas.
'Listen here bitch', he stepped on her neck, 'I got a message for your boss, and I want you to pass it on for me'. He pulled a coin from within his overcoat pocket and flicked it up into the air. Ping!
'You tell him I got Vengeance in my left and Lady Luck in my right...’ he whipped his six-shooters out like lightning as the coin landed flat upon her forehead. Tails. '...and he gots to be paid for what he done to the boy!'

‘All at once the dying devil-bitch b'gan to choke out a mocking chuckle at what I’d said, as my pistols finished the joke. Two punch-lines and she was silenced almost before she started. Silence ensued. The saloon had seemed to empty itself.’

His mark deceased and yet to claim, the bounty hunter limped away and into the night. Not to pray away this nights kill at a church or alter, nor to ride off into the night. He was bound to where he spent most of his time and money...

‘The town cobbler was soon to be woken yet again, to fix another of my blasted boot heels.
Don't worry him none though, this Hunter always gets the kill.
Good for business.’

 The Devil's Psalm © 2010 Aaron Savrone