I'm starting to work out a story in my head. Since the beginning of time, human beings have known that masks hold great power. Only a select few, however, know how to draw out the spirits that inhabit these disguises and use them to their full potential. Under the light of the moon, these people take on fantastic shapes and abilities... But when dawn breaks, the masquerade must end. If you are caught wearing your mask in the daylight, the spirit in the mask is released from your control, and casts your soul into the Pale Reality, where you are lost enternally.

There are other dangers, as well. Sometimes a mask's will is too strong, and they begin to take over their wearer's minds and bodies. These unlucky individuals are not cast into the Pale Reality, but hide from the fierce glare of day, trapped in a state of agony and insanity. These dangerous creatures are called Daemons.

Nobody knows when Jack first lost himself to his mask and become a Daemon. He's been haunting the streets of London for at least a century, according to some sources- maybe more. Most members of the Masquerade do their best to stay out of his territory. He terrorizes normal humans for fun, but nobody knows what exactly what happens to the mask-wearers he gets his hands on. No one's ever found a piece big enough to ask .__.