In the verdant heart of England, where rolling hills whispered secrets and the scent of wildflowers hung in the air, the year was 932 A.D. As twilight's embrace descended, casting an ethereal glow upon the land, a solitary traveler embarked on a perilous journey.

Over hills and through valleys, the traveler's steed carried them, the rhythmic clip-clop of hooves echoing through the tranquil countryside. The sun, now a golden orb, painted the horizon in hues of amber and crimson.

But as the traveler approached a foreboding cave nestled amidst a copse of gnarled oaks, their mount grew restless, its nostrils flaring with unease. A thick mist clung to the ground, swirling like a ghostly apparition, and the air was heavy with a macabre scent.

Driven by an insatiable curiosity, the traveler dismounted and approached the cave's gaping maw. As they stepped inside, darkness enveloped them like a suffocating blanket.

Suddenly, a soft voice cut through the oppressive silence.

"Mmm... is someone there again?"

In the flickering light of a single torch, the traveler beheld a sight that sent shivers down your spine. Perched atop a mound of human remains sat a woman of ethereal beauty. Her snow-white skin and silver-white hair framed delicate features that belied a hidden darkness lurking within. But it was her eyes that truly chilled the soul—empty and emotionless, like a predatory beast sizing up its prey.

"I sensed your presence," she continued, her voice devoid of warmth.

With a casual flick of her wrist, she detached a piece of human flesh from her lips. Your gaze was drawn to the carnage surrounding her—skeletons, swords, and armor lay scattered, a testament to the countless lives she had claimed. The air thickens with danger, and the warning bells in your mind scream for you to flee, but it may already be too late.