“BWAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaHHH!”

With an enormous gasp, I finally breathed. Like being born, my lungs greedily devoured the air I swallowed down my throat. I choked on nothing as my lungs struggled with expelling stale air while hungrily trying to replace it with fresh oxygen. The pain and internal struggle from that sensation caused my body to flop like a fish out of water, and I fell over from what I was perched upon, flattening on the cold ground that greeted me like an old frenemy. My eyes started to refocus, and struggling to even my breathing, I looked around me. I didn’t really like what I saw.

I was in what looked like a cross between a morgue, with corpse drawers and gurneys with red stained linen covering cadaver shaped mounds, and a mad scientist’s work room, with jars of fluids filled with every disgusting shape known to man. ...I’m seriously hoping that jar there doesn’t contain what I think it does.

With a grimace, my hands reflexively moved to cover my groin.

No, no, move past that. Gather info. First things first, is my body alright?

I stood up and started a visual check of my body. After a thorough check of my body that included flexing my muscles (lol) I concluded that my perfectly unexercised, thin, and unsexy body was completely without wounds. Even my back was without any injury despite clearly remembering that I was dragged along a cold hard floor. How did I check my back? Well, I’m double jointed in the shoulders, so I was able to pat down the entirety of my own back on my own. My double jointed shoulders are also good for party tricks.

And during my self-inspection, I came to realize I was kidnapped in my sleep since I was wearing my purple sweat pants I used for pajamas. They’ve been my sleep companion long enough that jokes like “You wouldn’t like me when I’m sleepy” became commonplace with my various roommates. So the good news is I’m not naked, and the bad news is that I’m all but. I think I’d be fairly noticeable if I tried to sneak around like this. So let’s look for some clothing. Or some socks at least. Wow this floor is cold. Anyway, I’ve been left alone for now so this is pretty much my best chance to do something.

Thinking that, I started searching the mad scientist’s playroom. I first checked the large cabinets for any lab coats, but they only had vials of strange things. Best not to think about them too much. Then I checked large drawers, but they were some kind of filing cabinets or filled with jars of more strange things. I decided that I didn’t see those things either and eventually moved on to the drawers of a work desk where I finally found what seemed like a pair of pantyhose.

At around the time I was coldly gazing at the disappointing find I held held stretched out in my hands I heard a voice behind me say, “What the hell?!”

Turning my head I saw one of those guys wearing that outfit with the metal bits on it with a face filled with surprise. He seemed to have frozen, not unlike me. I decided to act quickly.

“This isn’t what it looks like,” I stated adamantly. It would be bad if there was a misunderstanding. I’m not into women’s clothing.

The uniformed guy didn’t seem to care about my denial and charged forward, reaching out to grab me. I dropped the pantyhose, grabbed the guy back by the collar of his uniform, and pivoted my body to throw him using his own momentum to slam him harder. It worked out unexpectedly well as he struck back first against a metal refrigeration cabinet hard enough to dent the surface where he dropped to the ground like a ragdoll. I waited for a moment in a ready stance just in case, but the guy showed no sign of moving. In this situation I’d throw a shoe at him to make sure he was down or something, but I didn’t have anything handy for trying it. Except the specimen jars, but I sure as hell wasn’t gonna touch them.

Seeing no alternative, I investigated the guy myself. Turns out I slammed him hard enough to knock the guy unconscious. And he’s fairly close to my own body dimensions. Looks I just found some clothing. Score!

I quickly started stripping the guy starting with his upper body, and then bound his hands to the structure of the bolted down work desk using some leather restraining straps I found earlier and had decided I hadn’t seen. I’m not into other people’s hobbies. After securing the guy’s hands, I then shoved the pantyhose into his mouth for a gag. And to muffle his cries for help. Bazinga!

After all was said and done, I was garbed in a uniform shirt that was too large, as it was fitted for a muscular frame, pants that were too short, since I have long legs, and boots that were uncomfortably tight due to my wide feet. If it was just the sizing of the clothes I wouldn’t be nearly so creeped out right now, but the metal bits attached to the uniform? They were armored reinforcements. There was some kind of breastplate covering the rib cage on the outside of the shirt’s fasteners that attached over the shoulders and under the armpits with adjustable leather straps. The internal lining of the uniform seemed to have chainmail covering the entire torso between the cloth layers, and fucking pauldrons covering the ball and socket joints. Thankfully the sleeves were normal, but the pants also had plates of armor covering the front of the thighs with insewn belts of leather to be adjusted to size. This forest green and dark metal uniform just screamed generic fantasy to me. Was I kidnapped by some Ren-Fair loonies?

Oh, but wait, it gets weirder! The guy I just stripped? Guess what he had on his belt? He had a sword. An actual, real, metal sword. And it’s not a reproduction item either. I pulled a few papers from the desk, folded them, and cut through the crease with the blade. The papers were cut. They were not torn through by focused pressure on a single dull point. No. The edges were cut cleanly, no fraying. The sword I held in my hand was properly sharpened as a tool for killing.

With an exhale of resolve, I sheathed the sword on my waist and mumbled, “I’d rather have a gun, but it’ll do.”

Having strengthened my resolution to kill, I strode out of the strange lab, trying to make myself look like I belonged there.