Damon Torrance hates himself sometimes.

It's that coldness inside his heart. His fear of losing those around him, those who he cares about. It's like that with his friends, with Banks. Emory.

He puts his mask on, trying to forget the memories of his step-mother touching him in places he didn't want to be touched.

Tonight is Devil's Night. And the four horseman are ready to strike, to terrorize Thunder Bay once again.

He and the others enter in the catacombs, loud music echoing through the walls. Some girls dance on poles, some are on their knees to please the seated man.

It disgusts him, all of this. But it also thrills him, in a painful way. It brings back bad memories, at the same time, his body seems to always react to the scenes.

He drinks, he smokes, he talks with his friends, feeling the music echoing, the beating of his heart pulsating strongly against his chest.

They go out, they vandalize some things, the usual. Searching for the thrill. It's all a game, in the end.

A game he knows how to play too well.

He's going back home, feeling empty. He walks down the road, smoking.

And then he sees her.

She is walking wobbly, her heels on her hand instead of on her feet. She seems lost. He's not one to care. But something about this girls makes him care.

"Are you good?" Damon asks, trying to figure her out.

She is wearing a short and tight black dress. Her lips are cracked, her make up is blurred.

She looks like the most beautiful mess he've ever seen.