Don't you just hate it when you're just relaxing one lazy afternoon, wasting the hours away in front of the TV when suddenly you find yourself in the middle of god-knows-where, chained up to some wall?

Never had that happen to you? Well shit like this happens to me too damn often.

So how does your average, cynical, and highly paranoid 26 year old laboratory researcher end up in this kind of a mess? Well, I was an researcher before my boss fired me when I didn't show up to work for 3 weeks, but that was hardly my fault. Don't ask me why, it's a long story. But anyway, I think that way back when, God or whatever deity that created this world hated my guts, 'cause I have this unique – and unwanted – gift of teleportation, or simply porting as I call it.

Now at first glance you might think, how can that possibly be an unwanted gift? The ability to go wherever you want would be a dream come true for a lot of folks, and you would be right, if it weren’t for one little set back. Although I can freely teleport from location to location, I'm limited to about a 20 meter radius, and only to a location that I can see... with the exception to this rule breaking the sweet looking deal. See, my little “gift” from the beings above would sometimes send me to places that I would usually have no right to be in – and often times wouldn't want to be in – and of course I don't get warned ahead of time. Hence my current predicament.

Oh, and of course the places I end up are never pleasant, because that would be too fair.

I often wonder why it's me who has to deal with escaping from secret military bases, or getting out of zombie infested testing grounds. Hell, I'm amazed that I'm still alive right now, if it wasn't for sheer dumb luck the first few times I'd have already become zombie food. And although I did pick up a few things from these strange encounters over the years, whether that be lock-picking, or the cardio needed to outrun hoards of the undead (not the Romero ones either), I would still rather be an average everyday guy. Did I mention that I absolutely hate zombies?

But I digress; what I mean to say is that you'd be surprised at how scarce the times when my skills, teleporting included, comes in handy; I can't exactly poof out of nowhere and reappear some distance later in front of people. The only times I had a chance to experiment with my powers was when my life was in danger or when it was 2 in the morning, alone in some abandoned park.

Either way, nothing I can do will help much for my situation right now. I'm chained to a wall by some incredibly uncomfortable medieval style manacles, trapped inside what I can only make out to be a solid stone room with a big, heavy looking metal door blocking the only exit. The air in here has the consistency of jelly and it felt like a boiler room; the tiny holes drilled on the walls to allow for air circulation was about as useful as water to a drowning man. And before someone asks, I cant teleport out of here for several reasons. One: I don't have a clear view out of this room, and two: just as my clothes don't disappear when I use my ability, neither will the manacles welded to the wall. In other words, I'm stuck, waiting for whomever brought me here to finish me off, or whatever it is they want.

As for how I got here? Well, the last thing I remember was watching some T.V. - some infomercials I believe – and poof, I ported to somewhere. I guess I should have been more alert when it happened, but the second I reoriented myself someone knocked me out, and here I am now, stuck in some hole. Talking about myself in the third person. Lovely.

Just another day for Francis Morgan.

Well, the good thing is that I didn't have to wait chained up for too long, because about five minutes later, two large, heavily muscled men dressed in military uniforms. One had curly brown hair and the other had black hair, but other than that they might as well have been twins. They looked like some top end bouncers or bodyguards, dressed in cheap looking grey suit that barely fit their hulking mass. They were obviously meant to intimidate, but for me, they looked quite lack-luster. After all, once you're used to seeing horribly mutated gorilla monsters and hoards of the undead on a regular basis, a couple of local bouncers might as well be two old grannies.

I waited until they unchained me from the wall before I struck. As soon as I felt the restraints hook free from my wrist, I ported behind curly hair and took him out with a heavy blow to the back of the head, and before his dumbfounded buddy could respond, I did the same for him too.

I saw that the guards standing outside the door noticed the action inside, and before they could respond with those nasty looking stun guns, I ported behind them and made a mad dash for the exit. Pointless to try to fight them all when escaping was so much easier.

Too bad dashing for it turned out to be a mistake, because unlike the vision of freedom I imagined, all I saw outside was more walls and locked doors. It appears that whomever brought me here took some pretty hefty precautions.

I had to make a decision: I could give up and allow these people to bring me to whatever undoubtedly dreadful situation that awaits... or fight. And seeing as how fleeing was no longer an option, I took the obvious course of action. I immediately went on the somewhat shocked looking man charging towards me and took him out with a quick kick to the crotch – not the most elegant way of fighting, but it gets the job done. I immediately ported to the next person and threw a jab aiming for the jaws, and although I felt the blow hit, it did not connect with the force I intended. It was pretty clear that this guy realized what I could do and was ready for it, as evident when I felt his fists dig into my kidney. On instinct I retreated to a relatively safe spot, assessing the situation.

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Now although I can hold my own in a fight, I was never trained in combat. I usually relied on the element of surprise to do the brunt of my work, and with that gone now, I was in deep trouble. I could probably take one of two of these guards out myself, but constrained in such a tight area with so many skilled individuals, I didn't stand a chance. I still tried my best though, 'cause if I was going down, I'm sure as hell gonna take a whole lot of people with me!

I quickly ported back to the guy who got me in the kidney and threw a feint. As soon as he went to block the hit, I ported to the opposite side of him and threw a low kick at his feet, knocking him off balance. I planned to finish the job with a quick blow to the side of the head but someone grabbed me from behind. Good thing for me, because if he'd have just attacked me I would have been done for. Instead, I ported behind him – as he was not directly touching me, only my clothes – and did what he should have done in the first place and knocked him out.

But with those minor victories I knew that the situation was hopeless, because before that guard could fall down, four more fully armed men entered the corridor. I was ready to take more of these bastards down when an all too familiar voice filled my head, stronger than every before. It felt like my brain had melted and turned to lava in my skull, and it took all my will power to stay upright.

I closed my eyes and dropped to my knees, as a cacophony of visions filled my scorching eyes.

That was something new.

What I saw was myself in the same corridor, yet it wasn't fully me; there was something else there, guiding my actions. I saw it/me calmly walk towards the dozens of guards, and as each one passed us, a stream of blood and entrails gushed forwards.

We could taste the sweet metallic tinge of their life force draining beneath our touch. The screams of the dying, their useless pleas for help and mercy was pure ecstasy. We danced from person to person, and they all fell before our hands. We could feel the consciousness escape from each individual, as their miserable existence was extinguished with but the slightest of efforts. Oh, they tried to flee, but the same narrow hallway that once constricted our movements were now stopping their escape. They've already doomed themselves by being here, by trying to defy us! We sealed their fates by shutting the exits with a tendril of our will.

Stop...

We shall take back what is rightfully ours! End them...

No!

This wasn't me, and I had to fight to regain my sense of individuality. My brain ached with the effort, but eventually the visions resided and I saw the world as it was again, although I was still thoroughly rattled.

It had never been that strong before.

My mind still ached, strained with things that it was never meant to handle, but the visions were gone. I tried to get up and defend myself, but before I could even try, I felt a hot surge of electricity rack through my torso. It seemed that in the time it took me to force the visions out, someone with half a brain realized that they could use those stun guns they carried. I didn't try to fight it, and to be honest, I was a little glad of the pain; it firmly grounded me in reality. Someone eventually came to put me out of my misery, and for the second time in one day I passed out on the cold concrete.

* * *

I regained consciousness feeling better than I ought to have felt, which immediately made me worry; how long was I out for? With the damage I must have sustained through the earlier skirmish I shouldn't even be able to move... which made me worry some more. What if I ended up being a quadriplegic? Was I dead? Well, only one way to find out.

I tentatively opened my eyes, fearing the worst, but what greeted me was a very ordinary looking medical room. Cliche even, with the classic bland egg-shell white walls and those cheap looking plastic curtains separating the beds. And seeing as I am obviously still alive, for this place was way too tacky even for hell, I tried to get up. And found out I couldn't. It seemed that I was strapped down and handcuffed to one of those uncomfortable hospital beds. Porting was immediately out of the question, as someone apparently figured out the limitations of my ability, as they directly bound the tight leather restraints against my skin.

Well, at least they've tended to my wounds.

With one last ditch effort, I tried to wiggle out of my restraints, which made a whole lot of noise but not much else. Apparently my struggles alerted someone, because after about a minute, a team of medical staff came (along with a dozen or so armed guards, guess they've learned) to roll me away. I say roll me away because they took me along with the bed I was strapped to. Heck, you'd think they were dragging away Hannibal Lecter with all the precautions they've taken.

After we zig zagged past a whole labyrinth of hallways and corridors, the medical staff and guards eventually brought me to a halt outside what looks to be an office. To my surprise, they unchained me from the bed and roughly shoved me inside the room, before promptly – if not a bit hurriedly – shutting the door behind them.