1 Hyperspace

Groggily, I groaned as my eyes fluttered open, waking up with my breath hitched, my head pounding like it'd been run over by a train, and my body aching as if it were only a couple of seconds ago that I was rock climbing.

The faint sounds of electricity crackling intermixed with loud and irritating beeps that didn't quite register with my awakening senses filtered into my ears, helping to erase my drowsiness.

"...Argh, my head," I hissed in pain, one hand on my aching head, as I forced myself up from the cold and smooth black marble flooring, leaning against a wall with my back.

I frowned as with hazy eyes, I took in my new surroundings. It looked like I was in a storage room of some kind.

The room was dim, wide, and cold with a high ceiling. It had black colored walls adorned with thick columns of gold inlaid with intricate inscriptions that looked like Ancient Egyptian hieroglyphs.

It had polished marble flooring littered with golden flakes, dust, and dirt. Huge cracks extended all over the place, from the ceiling to the floor, giving it a battered appearance.

The room stank of metal, sweat, and dust, and around me, scattered haphazardly all over the place, were huge black and gold crates. Some were open, and pouring out of them onto the floor were some kind of black minerals or metal ores, possibly iron.

The whole place looked like it'd just experienced an earthquake, a pretty nasty one at that. Strangely, it looked and felt familiar, but I couldn't quite place my finger on it.

"Where the hell am I?" I asked no one in particular, my voice weirdly deep and different, my frown deepening as scenes from last night played in my head.

From what I could remember, I was in my car, driving home after doing some late-night grocery shopping when a van came out of nowhere and crossed me, blocking my path on the road.

Then some masked guys got down, ordered me to get down as they pointed a couple of Glocks at me, and proceeded to search me and my car.

I remembered keeping my cool through it all, despite the anger that bubbled deep in my gut as they robbed me, making me turn to face my car with my hands raised above my head.

The pedestrians around who should've called the cops just hid and took out their phones to record the entire process, watching as I quietly let robbers manhandle and rob me, bagging whatever they wanted.

There was no need for me to talk or instigate them, or even act tough when I could just cooperate and at the end of it, drive away with my life intact.

Besides, when it was all over, I thought I could always make use of my connections to find them and throw them behind bars while possibly getting back all the things they stole.

The robbery went on smoothly because of my silent cooperation. They took all the cash in my car, as well as my credit cards, took off my jewelry and whatever valuables I had in my pockets.

They did all that I expected them to do and were about to leave just as they finished, but something all of a sudden went wrong.

I didn't know if it was because he was high, was just in a bad mood, or the devil tempted him, I just didn't know.

But one of them got the brightest idea to hit the back of my head with his gun, sending me stumbling onto the floor.

The attack made a crack in my head, making me bleed out on the curb, and as the pain wreaked havoc in my system, slowly lapsing into unconsciousness, my vision blurry, I heard a gunshot.

Then everything went black.

"...The bastard shot me, didn't he?" I muttered gravely, my eyes widening in shock and disbelief as the realization set in. "If I knew they'd shoot me even after, I would've at least punched one those punks in the neck. Shit!"

I cursed, banging the wall with my left hand, and wincing from the pain. I'd been shot in cold blood by some unemployed punks who were quite possibly my age.

Left to bleed out on the curb at eleven pm until one person, thankfully, with some fully functioning brain cells, decided to call an ambulance.

I didn't know what the proper procedure was after being shot and surviving so I didn't know whether to feel sad, be in shock, cry, reflect on my life choices, et cetera, et cetera. But boy was I pissed.

"Hopefully, they catch those bastards. Otherwise, I will, and it wouldn't be pretty," I said coldly, with a frown, as I lowered my head to look down at my body.

My forehead grooved as I finally noticed an awful number of peculiar and strange things that didn't really make sense, not counting the strange way my voice sounded.

For one, I couldn't see any gunshot wounds on my body. I had been shot, I was quite sure of that, but there was nothing. No stitches, no scars, and certainly no bandages.

Which didn't make any sense. There was no way good old American health care could heal and fix something like that with zero traces.

It was medically impossible. Plus, this place didn't look like any hospital to me and if it was, they sure as hell were doing a good job at hiding it.

The other mind-boggling thing I'd noticed was the fact that I wasn't wearing my clothes. At least, not the ones I was shot in, and definitely not something you'd see anyone wearing in this century.

I was wearing some kind of brown long-sleeved tattered tunic riddled with large holes, and faded brown pants stained with blood, grime, and dirt, with some straw sandals strapped on my feet.

And God, did I smell awful. It was so bad that the more I inhaled, the more I didn't want to be around me. It was as if water hadn't touched my skin in ages.

But that wasn't the worst part. No. I'd noticed something even crazier. Slowly, I rose my hands to my eye level and my breath almost stopped when I examined them and my arms in general.

They weren't mine. They looked nothing like the arms and hands I was born and grew up with. They were paler, thicker, more toned, and had absolutely none of the scars I was supposed to have.

Plus, there was this weird small and exquisite golden triangular-shaped device fitted snugly around the middle and ring fingers of my left hand.

With eyes widened in disbelief, I quickly touched my face, tracing my fingers along its lines and contours, hoping to feel something familiar.

I didn't. My face had changed also. It was rounder, smooth, and had no trace of facial hair on it. My blood immediately ran cold. Oh lord, What else had changed?

I immediately ran my right hand through my hair, feeling its unfamiliar length and texture, and then shifted my eyes till I could see one of the closer long strands.

It was blond, straight, and long enough to fall on my shoulders. But I was born with short black hair which as far as I could remember, had never grown past my neck.

Uneasiness, now gripping my heart, I decided to test one last thing.Taking a deep breath of the cold stale air, I slipped my right hand into my pants.

The moment it found and touched what I was looking for, I sighed helplessly and finally accepted the reality of the situation.

Yep, this wasn't my body and in the off chance it was, it had been changed or altered so much that I still wouldn't be able to call it mine. It could be plastic surgery, but that was unlikely.

After all, I'd never heard of plastic surgery changing the color and very nature of someone's hair. No, this was something else. Something way more advanced.

Suddenly the room started trembling, like it was experiencing turbulence, and after a few seconds, it just stopped. This brought my attention to the fact that the room was moving. It had been moving all along.

And judging by the fact that I couldn't hear any engines, the wind, or any tires treading on a road, it was safe to assume I wasn't in a car. Most probably, I was in a ship or better yet a plane.

This meant that I was being transported somewhere and that the pilot or whoever was driving this thing, whatever it was, would be able to explain to me what was going on here.

Otherwise, it wouldn't be long until I'd start freaking out, which would lead to me saying things that would make a nun flush red, leaving a a very bad impression on whoever would be around when it happened.

It was something I'd very much like to avoid.

Wobbly, I propped myself up using the wall and stood on my feet, moving towards the blank black metallic door in the wall at the end of the room from my position.

"Hello! Anyone out there!?" I put my ear on the cold door and called out, banging on the door with my right fist.

I got no response other than the beeping sound and the loud sparks of electricity. "Look, I know you're there, so please respond. I don't want any trouble. I just want to talk." I said as politely as I could.

Still, there was no response. Barring, the irritating beeps and the dangerously sounding sparks or crackles of electricity, it was totally silent.

I couldn't hear any voices, feet shuffling, or even the wind or sea, and now that I thought about it not even the engine. It was so strange, almost eerie, that my face sunk into a heavy frown.

No one was responding. It was either they were just plain ignoring me or there was simply no one around at the moment. I was more inclined to believe the latter.

Which was the best thing I could hope for in my condition. As much as I was grateful to whoever saved and healed me, this place didn't look like a hospital. Whoever did this most definitely didn't do it out of the goodness of their heart.

I didn't know why or how they did this to me, but I had a very bad feeling about this place and something was telling me it wouldn't be wise, sticking around and find out why.

Besides, this place was cold, dank, and not very comfortable. Not exactly the ideal waiting lounge. Plus, if I didn't leave here soon, I was sure I'd end up suffocating myself to death as a result of my own stench.

Frowning, I stepped to the right, moving to the vertical and rectangular shaped gold colored keypad right next to the metal bulkhead door on the black wall and observed it closely.

There were six buttons on the keypad, with six different symbols on each of them that also looked very similar to hieroglyphs spread across the walls.

Looking at them, my brow furrowed and I clicked my tongue in annoyance, my mind racing with thoughts. Six symbols.

A quick math calculation revealed forty six thousand, six hundred and fifty six, possible combinations I had to try in order to find the right code that'd open the door.

That was a lot of combinations but luckily, if there was anything I had right now, it was time.

"Here goes nothing." I whispered, and, extended my right index finger to the first button at the top left corner of the pad.

My finger paused just as it touched it and out of the blue, a sequence of four symbols popped up in my mind. Instinctively, I just knew it was the right code. It just...felt right.

I rose an eyebrow at this peculiar feeling but I shrugged it off as my instincts acting up and having nothing else to type, I decided to test it out, electronic beeps sounding as I began to input the code.

The moment I pressed the last button, the door sharply slid apart like an elevator door, leaving me wide-eyed in surprise.

"...Hah, what do you know. It actually worked." I chuckled, staring at my index finger, and smiled. Well then, it was time to get out of here.

Moving to the left side where the open door was, I took one last glance at the room and stepped out of it.

The moment I did, my smile fell and my body froze, my eyebrows rising, my eyes widening, and my mouth opening, as I saw something incredible.

Something so incredible, I thought I was hallucinating. That my mind was only playing tricks on me. But it was no trick. It was as real as me being alive.

...I was in a spaceship. A spaceship currently traveling through Hyperspace...