In a desolate graveyard, a Banshee floats above the ground, her long, flowing white hair whipping violently in the cold wind. Her face is pale, gaunt, and twisted in a scream of eternal agony, her mouth wide open as she unleashes a bloodcurdling wail. Her ghostly, translucent form flickers in and out of existence, as if she is barely clinging to this world. Around her, gravestones crack and shatter from the force of her voice, and the ground splits open, revealing skeletal hands clawing at the surface. The air is thick with a supernatural chill, and the sky above is darkened by swirling, unnatural clouds.