The flashing images of war, battles people will never know of in lands they will never see, plague his dreams when suddenly stirs to the sound of a husky male voice barking orders " Hunter wake the fuck up we’re under attack! ". He scans the room his eyes closely followed by the end of the barrel of the pistol he had under his pillow.
The room was pitch black but his eyes focused quickly able to make out ever feature of the room, he quietly exits the bed and proceeds to clear the room advancing towards the bathroom his body on primal auto pilot due to the skills that had turned him into a tool of war, an individual bred for combat.
Upon reaching the bathroom he gripped the pistol in both hands close to his chest and in a burst of speed pushed the door open and cleared… The whole room was empty, the pistol fell to his waist side as he approaches the sink and place the pistol and hand on the counter gazing into the sink and turning on the tap before splashing some water onto his face.
He glances up at the mirror and the image in his reflection. At first his reflection the normal one of him standing there in a white t-shirt which he wore to bed, he blinked and the imaged changed. The image of him standing there clad in Black and red armor, dirt and blood smeared across his face and chestplate. In the doorway a figure flashed for a moment in armor similar to his own. The commanding voice beckoned him as the voice bounced around his ear like the echo of a war drum deep and powerful. " Fight for H… " before the figure could finish the sentence Killian punched the mirror shattering it, shards of the mirror seemed to fall like Autumn leafs slowly as his mind came back to reality everything sped up. The sudden rush of the clattering sound of shards of the mirror crashing to the ground fill the air and then silence, until the soft sound of liquid droplets hitting the sink resonate in his ears. Looking down his knuckles cut from the impact, he washes the wound and wraps a towel around it and makes his way back to bed.