Mike loved action, even from very young. His love of it only grew as he got older. He went from mountain bike (Biking Mike) to skateboard to cadets, until eventually he was drafted into the army. There had been an ongoing war for several years between the Western army and a terrorist group calling themselves Lucifer. Mike vowed to himself to stop them once and for all.

And stop them he did.

He liked war. He liked the action, the adrenalin, the excitement, the power. It was thrilling and made him feel. When he picked up his gun or a knife, he felt he had control at his fingertips.

But not the death.

And there was so much death.

The dull days of the years that followed, punctuated only by those hours of sheer pain, were all he knew. That was his life; get up, eat, work, sleep. No thrill came his way.

Except for one.

In a dreamlike state one morning he got up, going about his daily routine, and only realised something was wrong when he started looking through drawers without his say-so. He heard himself muttering under his breath.

It wasn't long before he discovered something else, a demon, of all things, had possessed his body.