Micheal was falling. He looked down, and what he saw appeared to be another desert. He flipped himself over and saw the roof of a cavern. It was covered in red streaks but otherwise made of brimstone. He prepared for his impact with the ground, thinking he would die in these final moments. Little did he know, but nobody could die in this forsaken realm.

He hit the ground hard, sending sand flying everywhere. He felt the sand, and it was courser than before, and there was less wind here than there was in the other desert. He got up, realizing that the impact was almost painless. When he looked around, he saw a town that looked as if it was pulled straight out of a western. Going straight through it, there was a singular road, and the most prominent building had a sign that said saloon. Other buildings were labeled as banks or had crosses at the peak of their roofs. After taking in his surroundings, he noticed the immense heat. It was much more extreme than in The Great Desert, and he almost doubled over. He felt like he was going to vomit, but he somehow didn’t. He looked around and noticed a peculiarly dressed man approaching. He wore something reminiscent of the typical cowboy but with red as the primary color instead of tan. He sat on a jet-black horse with a bright orange mane and glowing orange eyes. A soft orange light seemed to be coming from within it. It was disturbing how thin the horse’s skin seemed. The guns in the holsters at the cowboy’s hips appeared to be from a similar era as him. He gave off dark and hellish vibes.

“You there!” the red cowboy yelled over to Micheal, “Where did you come from?”

Micheal responded boldly to the booming voice, fear still ringing in his cry, “Why do you want to know?”

“I want to know how you got here ‘cause I’m in charge of newcomers ‘round here,” The red cowboy said, “There ain’t many these days.”

“I, uh, slipped through some sand, and then, I, um, uh, kinda fell from the sky, wait, um, that’s a roof,” Micheal barely managed to tell the cowboy, greatly intimidated by him and his horse.

“Are you hallucinatin’ partner? What’s your name?” The man asked with a softer voice. He whispered to himself, “I thought that the Wild West ended and this district got closed off…”

“Um, my name is, uh, it’s Micheal,” he told the cowboy.

“That’s a mighty fine name you got. People ‘round here call me Nightmare Jackk,” the cowboy complimented Micheal.

“Oh, thanks I guess,” Micheal said, “But, um, if you don’t mind me asking, why do they call you, uh, Nightmare Jackk?” Micheal was still shaking from his arrival here.

“Oh, that’s just ‘cause my name is Jackk and my horse here is a special breed found only on this world. They’re called nightmares,” Nightmare Jackk replied, “They’ve got some fun abilities that only I get to know. And well, ‘course other nightmare riders get ta.”

“Ok,” Micheal replied, “Wait why is it so hot here? And where are we?”

“I thought you would’ve known where you were and why, but I guess not. My friend, this is the Wild West District of what we call Hell on the world above, and unless you were some sort of Wild West fanatic then I’m afraid you’re in the wrong district,” Nightmare Jackk explained.

“How did I end up in Hell?!” Micheal exclaimed.

“Well, to end up in here you’ve got to do some bad stuff when you were alive,” Nightmare Jackk said, “To end up in my district however, you’ve gotta have some strong ties to the Wild West.”

“But I didn’t die,” Micheal told him, “The sand I was standing on literally swallowed me right as I was going to give someone this.” Micheal lifted his sheathed blade slightly.

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“Oh man, you sure have gotten yourself into something,” Nightmare Jackk said, “That thing right there is a realmwalker relic. Some people can realmwalk all by themselves, but most need a relic.”

“That must be how I got to that random field and the desert,” Micheal replied.

“And probably how you got here,” Nightmare Jackk added, grinning slightly as he realized there was a soul for the taking right in front of him.

“I wonder if I can use this to get home somehow,” Micheal thought out loud.

“I’m afraid that one has a mind of its own Micheal,” Nightmare Jackk said, “The Divine Blade has been causing people problems for millennia.”

“Oh,” Micheal said, sadness overwhelming his voice, “Then I’ll probably never get home.”

“I can try and get you home, but I’ll need that sword outta your blood.”

“How? How can you get me out of here? And how could you get the sword out of my blood?”

“I’d have to take you to my boss, and I don’t know if you’d want to meet him. He gets real mad at lost souls and district errors,” Nightmare Jackk explained.

“Who’s your boss?” Micheal asked.

“Are you an idiot? My boss’s name is Amon the Goldfire. He’s a powerful archdevil. I would’ve thought that would be obvious considering I’m working in fuckin’ hell,” Nightmare Jackk explained further.

“Oh,” Micheal replied, shocked at how easily aggravated Nightmare Jackk seemed.

“Do you want out or not?” Nightmare Jackk asked, his voice still raised.

“I think I’ll try to find my own way out, but thanks anyway,” Micheal responded, backing away and preparing to turn around, worried about what might come next.

“It was a yes or no question Micheal. I gave you two options, and you didn’t choose either. I think I’m going to need to take you in,” Nightmare Jackk said, sitting up straighter, his aura of intimidation being realized. He had a dark cloud around him, a black mask forming from it onto his face. All the red of his outfit faded away to a grim black. His horse pawed the ground, seemingly angered at him as well.

Micheal ran as fast as he could away from the old western town. He looked back and saw Nightmare Jackk’s rage burning fiercely in his eyes. Nightmare Jackk stared in his direction and so did the nightmare. He stopped in his tracks as he stared into the horse's crimson eyes. He looked up at Jackk’s eyes, which were the same crimson as the nightmare’s. Micheal was paralyzed. He could keep going, find some other part of this place to escape to, but he couldn’t move. His mind wouldn’t let him. The horse’s eyes had trapped Micheal.

Nightmare Jackk stepped off the horse. His dark aura supported him as he dismounted the massive steed. Jackk seemed able to shape his dark aura, but then Micheal noticed that the aura was some kind of dust coming from his nightmare. It wasn’t producing the dark flakes, it was made of the dark flakes. Micheal realized that the horse was not just a mighty steed for Nightmare Jackk, but also a powerful weapon. He took swaths of the flakes and shot them off into the sky.

“Where are those going?” Micheal said.

“They are a warning to the other district wardens. I have told them there is a living soul on the loose and that he realmwalked here. To Hell. You won’t be able to escape into the other districts anymore. You will come with me or you will go with one of them. Some of them have much more of an army than me. This isn’t the Hell of you’re world, Micheal. You’ve never heard of this forsaken world. You can’t escape the armies of the damned. You won’t escape the forsaken armies of this realm. You aren’t safe here Micheal. You never were and you never will be. All of Hell is after you; the District Wardens might even get permission to leave their realms to find you. Come with me or go with one of them,” Nightmare Jackk said, “Prepare for the might of the high seas, the military force of a damned army from across the world, the power of the priests and gangs and drug lords and mercenaries. Anyone and everyone who needs a favor will be after you Micheal.”

Micheal ran. He ran as fast and as far as he could. He was running faster than he could ever have thought possible before. He felt a power within him, something gifted to him by the Divine Blade. He ran and he ran and he ran. He ran until he went straight through a solid rock wall and fell into open water. All he could see around him was water. Water he had fallen into. The sudden change in temperature from demonically hot to freezing cold and his lack of swimming ability caused him to pass out. He thought he would die. Jackk thought he would die. Only one thing sustained him during the time in the water. His blade.