For years, Santos Gimenez, watchman of the Ataualtepec cemetery, a small village located near the northern border of Mexico, province of Badajoz, only lived for revenge. He had spent six years preparing to undertake the crusade that would calm the hatred and fire of his heart. Now he was ready to enter purgatory and recover his beloved.
Six years before his villa was quiet and peaceful. Life went on normally until the rumors began to come in about Pellejo Martinez, a terrible narco who was said to have moved to a ranch on the outskirts. Since then the atmosphere of the town became rare and everything seemed to die in the surroundings. The rumors talked about occult ceremonies and a direct connection with the dead. It was said that Pellejo was the reincarnation of an Aztec priest who lived six hundred years ago, and that he was working to bring back his entourage and guard from the dead.
One dark January day, while Santos was alone in the cemetery finishing burying a poor devil who had died drunk lying in a corner, he noticed a deep tremor and watched as the earth split in front of him, separating into thick pieces that began to rise in the sky. Under him, an unfathomable warm and evil darkness. The sky, static, showed a full greenish moon, and below it, not far away, Ataualtepec burned.
As he could, Santos ran towards his house, terribly worried about Maria Fernanda, his beautiful young wife, who was waiting for him for dinner. When he reached the village, he stared in horror at the terrible massacre: Pellejo and his men, wrapped in shadows that made them invincible, had killed each and every one of the villagers with a knife. Black spirits floated over their stabbed corpses.
Before they could see him, Santos hid behind some bushes, near his house, and watched as Maria Fernanda was saved from the massacre: Pellejo had other ideas for her. I already had five hundred souls. I already had the necessary magical strength. I only needed one carrier … And who better than the beautiful Maria?
Santos, blinded with rage, threw himself headlong against the evil narco, but could do little: with a single gesture, Pellejo, his henchmen, the black spirits, and his beloved Maria disappeared from the real world to purgatory to complete the last part of your plan. Desperate, kneeling on the dusty backyard of your house, Santos cursed the sky and went completely mad. The flesh that covered his tired bones fell away, and a reddish glow shone on his skull. He was no longer human, but a creature consumed by hatred. He knew his destiny: to chase Skinny to purgatory, if necessary, and retrieve his beloved.