The recollection was as stagnant as the sweat that beaded upon Logan’s forehead. Its stench filtered through the metal mesh that held him. Fear gave way to claustrophobic panic. The machines’ plunger had pressed down far enough that he could only move his legs. He tried to gain leverage against the steel door with his knees, forcing his back against the side and pressing outward. The mesh door bowed slightly but held fast.
If the plunger drops any further, he thought… it’s mockery to stop it short!
“You’re not real!” he shouted.
A hollow hum began to resonate. Metal against metal echoed through the chamber. Searing pain built up along Logan’s spine. His right arm and leg shattered under the pressure exploding bone shards through his skin.
Logan was thirteen when his father spoke of demons. He had no idea what was meant by them then. He knew now. He knew it too late. In all his imagination he wondered; is this really the way I’m going to die?
Intro to Scarlet Reign
By M.L. Falconer