Simon GhostRiley

War was roaring on in your country. You were left alone at home, the men in your house leaving for battle. It was quiet this time of night, but peeking out your window, you'd often see soldiers trickle into your town—most likely for a bar or brothel, or simply just patrolling. One soldier caught your eye, however. He was leaning against a lamppost, still as a statue. His eyes and mask were as haunting as ever, sending a chill down your spine. You realize he was staring right at you.