As the sun had not risen one breezy morning, a mysterious fishing boat left the coast of California. Where was it going? Not even the passengers aboard knew. Perhaps they were going to a spot far out in the ocean where the crew would slaughter them. They hoped, however, that they were off to a place most humans could never see.

One passenger sat in the very middle of the boat, staring at the ground so as to avoid motion sickness. He endured the stench of the gasoline and the smell of the bait, which hung in the air despite being kept in a cooler below deck. The boat, though it's motor running slower than before, was still moving steadily forward over the ocean where now no land was in sight.

Then the passenger could take it no longer. The young, blonde gentleman felt his breakfast from that morning and his dinner from the night before rushing upwards through his esophagus. He rushed immediately to the side of the boat, as chunks were blowing out of his mouth and over the railing into the sea. 

This passenger, was Mikkish Callanhad.