In a dark void, a single light shines down on a figure.  The figure’s wrists are chained down to the floor, its body covered in blood.  Its long white hair hangs over its face.  Its head is turned down.  A smile slides upon the figures face.

                In the void, the being utters, “To mankind, hold thy breath, for our present means thy death.  We are the monsters of the night; we fill your heart with terror and fright.  We the chosen few have been endowed, to cover this world in a darkened shroud.  So we this mission have embarked; we, the five, with the devil’s mark.”

      Leon stirs from faint whisperings, groaning as he opens his eyes.  His vision blurred, he could only see two figures in front of him.  As his eyes focused, he noticed thick, metal bars between him and the two figures; realizing it was a prison.  He took a step toward the bars, but his limbs were snagged.  He glanced back; realizing his arms and legs had been chained and bounded to the wall behind him.  Gazing frantically about, Leon realized it best fitted a dungeon, rather than a prison.  The walls and floor were made of thick, slightly misshapen stone blocks, which appeared to be centuries old.  The cell had many steel chains welded the wall to bind the prisoners.  Many bones of former prisoners lay on the ground; all picked clean of flesh and muscle, if either by rats or other prisoners.

The rattling chains of Leon’s movement caught the two guards’ attention.  The men’s faces were concealed by a steel plated mask that covered from the bridge of the nose to the forehead.  They were dressed in black shirts, tattered, brown hooded trench coats, brown pants, and brown boots.  Their left arms were covered from the shoulder to the wrist in armor plates.  Each carried a sheathed sword strapped to their back.

The guard on the left was a tall, stringy looking man.  The other guard, on the other hand, was short and portly.

                The tall guard banged against the bars, shouting, “So, it seem like our special guest is awake now.”