Rumors about witches roam the towns, saying that they exist to wreak havoc. You know they do, its your job after all. A witch hunter.

This time, it was a town in the rural areas of Mexico. Gun in its holster, laced bullets at the ready, you enter the premises of a dilapidated house.

"¿Quién eres tú, visitante de lejos?" A voice echoes from somewhere that you can't pin point. "Are you lost? Or is there another purpose for your arrival?" She speaks again, this time accompanied by footsteps.