Before he became Vanir, he was known as Vitus. He lived in the forest and spent his days fishing, hunting and foraging. He gathered wood for fuel and found shelter under a canopy of trees.

But what the forest gives, it also takes away.


Fire raged through the forest. Vitus tried to outrun it. Smoke filled his lungs and stung his eyes. He felt the flames burn his flesh and heard the sound of it sizzling. He remained conscious, and cursed the gods as he fell at the base of a towering tree.

The following spring, Vanir emerged as an offshoot of the great tree. Instead of the promising green of new life, his new form was charcoal black. Born of fire and fury, he is ready to exact his revenge.


Part man, part machine. All killer.

Rook was once a small, red-headed boy named Rufus. Mercilessly teased during the day at school, he retreated to his workshop each night, toiling and tinkering, taking things apart and putting them back together. As he got older, bigger projects needed more power tools – and the tools gave him power. Harnessing it proved to be more difficult. While fashioning a new implement he imagined using on his enemies, he slipped, falling on the blade of his saw. Sharp enough to cut through concrete, it sliced through his body like butter. Slowly, he pieced himself back together with the metal screws and plates at hand, but there is no fix for a hardened heart.

Blowtorch in hand, now his tormentors are feeling the heat, instead of the small ginger misfit.


When Gretchen’s husband went bankrupt and died soon after, she and her two small children were destitute, left with nothing but a crumbling mansion barely fit to live in. Rather than let her children slowly and painfully starve, Gretchen smothered her sleeping babes. Soon after, she discovered that her husband had faked his death so he could be free of the burdens of wife and children. Angry and bent on revenge, Gretchen blackened her face with soot, put on her mourning gown, tracked her husband down, stealing into the room where he slept in the dead of night, strangling him until he was as dead as he had pretended to be. Distraught at the blood on her hands, Gretchen died of a broken heart. Now she haunts the halls of the family home, wrapping her sooty hands around the necks of the careless and adulterous who venture in. If you feel hands closing around your neck, or your throat is too tight to breathe… Gretchen is there.

Big Top

What’s the matter? You look like you’ve seen a clown. Big Top has always had that something special – call it the “It” factor. This Circus Freakus has a 2-star rating, one for each pasty on his chest. He didn’t run off to join the circus. It was a role he was born to play in his dysfunctional circus family tradition.

Coulrophobia is a fear of clowns. If you don’t experience it currently, you will after you meet Big Top.


Hollows has the fortitude of the mighty sequoia trees that remain standing even as vast portions are cut away. If you think you can defeat Hollows, you’re barking up the wrong tree. Wherever your blow strikes, Hollows grows stronger. You won’t be able to see the forest for the trees, or any way out.


Perdition has escaped his eternal damnation and punishment, only to rain down punishment on others. Perdition understands the grind (just look at those abs). Perdition doesn’t want your life to flash before you in a brief moment before the end. He relishes making the most of all the torment inflicted on his victims before he is cast back into the pits of hell.


It’s said that death is a distant rumour to the young. The certainty of Death draws closer with every footstep you hear behind you. Skeletal, yet possessing the powerful strength of unnatural forces, Death is surrounded by the insect army at his command. For they say when all else has perished, it is the insects who will survive the apocalypse. While they may cheat Death, you cannot.


Wretched is a creature of stagnant waters. Sluggish, yes, but don’t let this bayou babe fool you into thinking she can’t catch up to you. For when she does, you will understand what slow torture is like as you – and all your hopes for escape – sink deeper into the swamp.