The Jackal’s Cage: How Thir13en Ghosts Turns Restraint Into Rage

Have you ever felt a pair of eyes tracking you from the shadows when you knew you were completely alone? That sudden, inexplicable drop in temperature. The primal instinct warning you to run. Long before he became a captive spirit trapped within a labyrinth of glass, the entity known to the world as The Jackal was a mortal man who thrived in that exact fear. He was a creature born of human flesh, but his soul belonged to the darkness.

THE BIRTH OF A PREDATOR

Born into the unforgiving alleys of 1887, Ryan Coon was a child brought into a world that never wanted him. The son of a prostitute, he was raised amidst the grit, the grime, and the desperation of the streets. From a very young age, something deep within his mind was fundamentally broken. As he matured into a man, a sick and uncontrollable appetite for violence began to consume his every waking thought.

He developed a terrifying obsession with vulnerable women, specifically targeting those who walked the streets alone at night. Ryan became a cunning predator, prowling the cobblestones under the cover of darkness. He would wait for the heavy fog to roll in, masking his approach, listening to the soft, rhythmic tapping of their shoes. He attacked the innocent with the feral intensity of a wild animal. The city soon began to whisper of a monster lurking in the alleys. Women clutched their coats tighter and walked faster, completely unaware that the shadow following them was Ryan. He did not just want to harm them. He wanted to own their fear.

THE WALLS OF BOURNEWOOD

Perhaps a small, fleeting shred of his humanity remained, or perhaps he simply grew terrified of the total loss of his own mind. In an act of desperation, Ryan voluntarily committed himself to the Bournewood Asylum. He walked through those heavy doors seeking help, hoping to find a cure for the twisted urges that plagued him. But the archaic and brutal treatments of the era offered no salvation. Bournewood was a prison of despair, and the twisted treatments only pushed him completely over the edge.

Locked alone in a padded cell for years on end, the stifling silence amplified the maddening voices echoing in his head. The isolation broke whatever sanity he had left. The quiet hum of the asylum was replaced by the violent, rhythmic scratching of his own hands against the walls. He began to claw at the thick canvas padding of his cell with such ferocious intensity that he literally tore his fingernails completely off. The horrific self mutilation left his hands permanently mangled. His fingers curled and twisted until they resembled the terrifying claws of a beast. He was shedding his human skin to let the monster out.

THE STRAITJACKET AND THE BEAST

The true horror emerged the night he finally turned his unbearable rage outward. When a nurse stepped too close to his cell to administer his medication, Ryan attacked. With his bare, mangled claws, he tore into her, leaving her lifeless on the cold floor. The panicked doctors finally realized they were no longer dealing with a human being. They forced the thrashing, shrieking patient into a heavy canvas straitjacket.

But Ryan refused to submit. Every time he acted out, the orderlies pulled the heavy canvas straps tighter. They tightened the jacket until his bones groaned and his limbs contorted into unnatural, horrifying angles. The agonizing pain would have broken an ordinary person, but Ryan was far beyond pain. Driven by a primal, rabid fury, he used his teeth. He bit viciously through the thick canvas and tough leather, gnawing until his gums bled and the corners of his mouth tore open. Against all rational logic, he chewed his way out of his restraints.

THE IRON CAGE

Terrified of the unstoppable, inhuman force he had become, the asylum staff took their most drastic and cruel measure yet. They forged a heavy iron cage, a rusted metal helmet, and locked it securely around his head. He was dragged down into the depths of the asylum and thrown into a pitch black basement cell, sealed away from the light of day forever.

Down in the damp, freezing darkness, the scent of mildew and his own dried blood became his only reality. He completely stopped acting human. He grew to intensely hate any kind of contact. If anyone dared to approach his cell, they were met with wild, guttural screaming, the loud rattling of his iron cage, and the terrifying sight of a man cowering and snapping like a trapped, rabid dog. He was left down there to rot.

EMBRACING THE FLAMES

The end of Ryan Coon came on a night filled with choking smoke and agonizing screams. A massive fire broke out, sweeping violently through the halls of Bournewood Asylum. While the doctors and the other patients ran frantically for their lives, choking on the thick black smoke, Ryan made a chilling choice. He stood completely still in his dark cell, watching the bright orange flames crawl toward him.

He did not fight. He did not run. He simply laughed as the intense heat blistered his skin, welcoming the fire as it swallowed him. He chose to stay behind and burn alive, knowing that death was merely a transition. His physical body turned to ash, but his dark soul remained permanently tethered to the earthly realm.

THE ELEVENTH GHOST OF THE BLACK ZODIAC

Decades later, the eccentric and dangerous ghost hunter Cyrus Criticos ventured into the ruined, charred remains of the asylum. He was searching for the most damned, irredeemable spirits to complete a dark mechanism known as the Black Zodiac. Deep in the rubble, he captured the bound spirit of Ryan Coon.

Ryan became the eleventh ghost, known forever as The Jackal. Imprisoned once again, this time within the spell inscribed glass walls of the Basileus Machine, he prowls the halls with his twisted limbs and wild hair. His head jerks unnaturally inside that rusted metal cage, forever hunting the living with a ravenous hunger. He was the perfect embodiment of chaos required to power the devilish machine designed to open the Eye of Hell.

If you ever find yourself alone in the dark and hear the faint, metallic scraping of iron against stone, ask yourself. Is The Jackal still locked safely in his cage, or is he standing right behind you?

Continue the Black Zodiac File

The Black Zodiac works best as a chained dossier. Step back if you missed the previous spirit, or keep going to follow the next piece of Thir13en Ghosts lore.

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