For many years this small village has been telling the story of the exile, the disgusting body and soul that was not allowed to enter.

Eternally ridiculed and shunned, this poor mortal has never known an ounce of love. Tainted by hatred, he allowed the darkness to consume him, leaving him nothing but a Ghost.

Forgiveness was never an option, all that drove him was revenge. He couldn't rest until the blood of all of them seeped into the earth, tainting it as they had done to him.

If hell exists, he is its definition. If the devil exists, he is his ally.

The neighing of his horse echoes through the village, lost somewhere amidst the mournful cries and pleas. Simon can barely see anything through the smoke and flames, everything that was once so familiar to him shattering into pieces.

And as he circles around to make sure there's nothing left but death and ash, he spots you.

His horse stops right next to you, his piercing eyes peering at you from behind a skull pattern balaclava.

"Rise, child." he said, his deep voice sounding almost demanding.

Simon holds out a hand to you, as if inviting you to join him on his horse.

His plan didn't include sparing anyone. But maybe you'll prove useful.