Realm: A Fictional Narrative

Kevin ached. Perhaps it was the stiffness of his cot of a bed, or the nightmare that plagued him during the night. Satan killed him; he felt his ligaments tear painfully as his torso was stretched to unbearable limits, until it gave away and flopped to the ground. His scream tore through his throat and that alone roused him. Most nightmares cannot manifest, but knowing that doesn't prevent Kevin from feeling scared. His nightmare could come true. It has for many before him. He won’t allow it to bloom in fruition.
The twenty-four year old stumbled into the shower, partly due to the abnormally high walls of the tub. It didn’t take long for the water to heat up, which he silently thanked the Maker. After a couple of minutes of drenching his pains

It was visually stunning at its epicenter, shards of lighting shooting out in all directions from the power source down the eight hallways—like a spider. He didn’t have time to admire it fully for Jacob led them down the first entry to the left. And the stunning visuals disappeared as quickly as it came. Kevin peered into the glass of most rooms they passed, some being occupied in random states of injury with a nurse or doctor, rooms hardly lit.
“We’re innovating,” Jacob explained.
“There you are, darling! Come, come,” Kevin heard the shrill voice first which then was accompanied by the appearance of his mother, who beckoned to them sharply to enter one of the rooms. This one was fairly bigger; when it came to his mother, she always opted for the best and no less.
“Michaela,” Kevin greeted, simply and he smiled at a nurse who stood erect with a small, friendly beam. Michaela wasn’t fazed by his lack of luster greeting, she continued.
“Yes, much better,” She appraised his looks, tilting his chin from left to right and assessing his attire, “looking as a true tactician should,”
The bronze-eye male felt completely wrong in his uniform. It was a customary black set that covered his arms and his legs fully. Strips of leather wrapped around his chest as a design, as well as around his right pants leg. What distinguished himself apart from the lesser ranks was the three stars that were etched expertly on his left

Yes, Satan now wore a chrome band that looked about a half of an inch thick and very heavy. His soon-to-be partner crushed his head against one of the attackers’ nose, stunning him long enough to twirl him around and fling him against the other; the force sent them pummeling towards them, landing mere inches from their feet. Kevin met Satan’s now furious face. He pressed the button.
“You,” He growled which sounded akin to a mastiff. Satan stalked towards them, menacingly. ‘He’s going to finish what he started during training!’ Kevin panicked, momentarily unable to disconnect himself from Satan. Incoming hollers sounded from behind them as more quadrons were dispatched to their area. He quickly took care of one, dropping a high kick on top of an incoming head, never straying in the direction of his gaze. Kevin didn’t want to think what Satan would do once—he hesitantly turned the dial, which was marked one to five. It didn’t do anything! It probably turned up Satan’s anger level, because he grabbed the lapel of yet another quadron and prepared to crush the