Death rides a pale horse, and she is a beauty. Since man first buried his dead, she has watched over them. With her hand she raises those select few, those disturbed and maimed, to new life. These risen souls are duty bound to protect the souls still buried and resting. The souls restless and walking.
Sebastien Crowle is such a watchman. But as a villain so profane and perverse enters the scene with a crime the likes of which Sebastien has never seen, can he stop the villain and confront the ghosts of his own past as they begin to rear their heads?