Kevin jolts up from the bed he is lying down on with a very big gasp for air. He thinks that he has died, because he clearly remembers his cousin, the one he blindly trusted, stabbing him in the neck. Surely, there is no way that he would have been able to survive that. With the amount of blood that oozed out of him, surviving is impossible. Except by a miracle...If this is heaven? Then why can he feel the soft fabric of the bedsheets against his skin, and why can he smell the sweetness of the flowers in the vase by the window? His throat ripples, but a sharp pain pierces him airway. "Argh..." His hand goes up, but it meets a bandage that he never knew was there in the first place. "You still have a lot of healing to do my friend, give it time." He looks up to see who owns the voice. He's a really tall man with the air of a very important person. Even with his very intimidating aura, the man smiles down at him, hands in pocket. "W– where am I? What am I doing here?" Kevin ask