Wyatt Lincoln was 27 years old on the night of January 8th 2013 when his life changed, he didn't know it when he went to bed that night, but from that point forward nothing was ever going to be the same again.<br/><br/>It had been a rough day, and his eyes closed almost as soon as his head hit the pillow. Practice had been particularly brutal, his MMA coach had beaten him mercilessly all session, and that was after a full day of work on the docks. The docks were tough manual labor but it was what paid the bills until his fighting career took off. He was bound and determined to see his dream come true and even the jeers from his fellow fighters and Dockworkers about his age weren't going to stop him, he was bound and determined to see himself in a main event. So when Wyatt began to dream it was of that very pinnacle of success that filled his thoughts.<br/><br/>Wyatt could hear the crowd's screams and smell the sweat of his opponent as they circled each other in his subconscious arena.  Some faceless anonymous champion that his mind had constructed, Wyatt could almost see his corner guys holding up the Heavyweight Championship Belt up teasingly as he began to trade blows with opponent. It was then Wyatt realized that this wasn't one of those good dreams where he got to pummel his opponent with ease only to have his hand raised to the roar of the loving crowd; this in fact  was the bad one. A nightmare he'd experienced before and one he dread as the realization dawned on him. His punches were weak and super-slow like striking through water. His opponent is unfazed and swarms him, bending his limbs and completely dominating Wyatt like he was a ragdoll. No matter how much he struggled the far superior fighter seemed to trump everyone of his counter-maneuvers.<br/><br/>"NNNOOOOOOO!!" Wyatt screamed, his body surging back awake and he tried to sit up but Wyatt found that even his 'bed sheets' seemed to fight against him. His eyes snapped open, his big chest heaving as he struggled against whatever was holding him down, it wasn't his bedsheets at all though, it was some sort of slimy membrane. His mind raced as he could make out his naked body through the semi-opaque 'skin' that held him down and he realized he wasn't in his bedroom at all.<br/><br/>His eyes darted around and scanned the dark grey room through the semi-see through goo that was covering him.The room was what looked like a metallic material and a thick fog hung in the air. Dull green lighting was spaced sparsely, it spotlight several pieces of strange bio-mechanical looking surgical equipment like something straight out of a science fiction movie. Wyatt started to panic, his body still flexing against the membrane, it was then he realized that he was breathing through some sort of tube that was inserted down his throat; he began to gag.<br/><br/>Wyatt's entire body flexed and he reached up inside the sack and grasp the tube, wrenching it free from his throat. The relief from removing the foreign object from his throat was short lived as he realized he could no longer breath inside the liquid environment. His survival instinct kicked in and as his adrenaline surged through his system, Wyatt went berserk. He clawed at the sack and used the hard plastic-like material his intubation tube was made of to finally break a small hole in the incredibly durable sack that uncased him. Wyatt pressed his lips to the tear and gasped in the atmosphere outside.<br/><br/>The first few breaths he was so relieved just to be sucking in something that wasn't liquid he didn't even notice the acrid taste that it left in his mouth. Wyatt took another big breath and then sunk back while he forced his big muscled arm up through the hole and forcing it to stretch. The next was his other arm, and then like a child being born again he forced his head out.  Once he'd stretched the thing that far, it's elasticity gave way and the membrane collapse, spilling out whatever viscus fluid his naked body had been submerged in onto the metallic floor around him.<br/><br/>Wyatt spent several seconds wiping the goo away and breathing hard, trying to make heads or tails of what the hell was going on. His mind was telling him that this was still a nightmare; although far stranger than when it had started, it was still no more than a figment of his imagination, but his gut was screaming something else. It lacked the weightlessness of a dream and something felt very real about this no matter how strange this environment was.<br/><br/>Wyatt scanned the room now that he was sitting upright, his chest was pounding with fear and he now noticed that the air wasn't very good. It was like trying to breath at a really high altitude and no matter how much you sucked in you still felt short of breath. The room was large, and it was filled with a hundred or so of these strange pods like the one his realized he was sitting in. He could make out diluted silhouettes in most of the ones surrounding him, all of which encased in the strange smiley membrane he'd just escaped from. Some men, others showed the tell tale curves of females.<br/><br/>"What in God's name...." He trailed off, his body quaking as he suddenly became aware of how cold the room was outside the temperature controlled sack. Wyatt stepped out onto the cold floor and tried to stand, but found that his leg wouldn't hold his weight, he slipped in the slippery fluid his body was still coated in and collapsed onto the hard metal floor.<br/><br/>He felt as weak as a kitten and his head swoon like he'd drank too much. "Aahhhh...." He groaned at the pain from banging his naked hip into the unforgiving surface as he dragged himself upright with the use of the side of the pod he'd just escaped. Wyatt couldn't believe how weak he felt, his big muscled arms shook just pulling up the weight of his own form, and he wheezed and whined like the first real hard work out his coach had ever put him through.<br/><br/>It was then; as Wyatt had almost pulled himself back up; that a pannel in the wall opened and a bright light flooded the chamber. Wyatt screamed when he looked into it, his pupils painfully dilating, it almost made him puke again. He forced his head up anyway, despite the pain and looked in horror as a bulbus grey head of an alien being entered the room.<br/><br/>"OOOOH GOD NO!" Wyatt yelled out in revulsion at seeing what he'd secretly suspected since he awoke in this alien environment. "NO STOP STAY BACK!" He yelled.<br/><br/>The skinny frail looking grey skinned alien closed the distance without hesitation, it's large black almond shaped eyes reflecting Wyatt's own horrified expression back at him. It reached out with it's long slender fingers and finally Wyatt's constitution gave way, he fell back to the floor and recoiled in terror.<br/><br/>"Be calm savage..." It said without moving it's mouth, like it's thoughts were being broadcasting directly into Wyatt's mind.<br/><br/>"No....This is a dream....It's just a nightmare....I'm gonna wake up...NOW....NOW..... RIGHT NOW!" Wyatt started to freak out, hoping his could force himself to wake up. He held his limp arms up around his head helplessly.<br/><br/>"Relax your form, savage! Do not struggle, you'll only injure yourself." It said again without moving it's creepily shapeless lips.  The grey alien reached over and grabbed a syringe off of the nearby counter and plunged it into Wyatt, drawing farther screams. It stepped back and waited for the serum to take hold; Wyatt could hear it reporting in as unconsciousness reclaimed him.<br/><br/>"Affirmative, we had an early awakening....Yes...I have subdued the Homosapien, we can commence unloading....." It psychically announced to his peers as more of the grey creatures started to fill the room. Wyatt finally blacked out, content in the knowledge that this had indeed been just a nightmare.<br/><br/>When he awoke again, he was sorely mistake though, it wasn't the warm confines of his bed that he found himself in, but that of a restraint chair. He was lined up with several hundred other humans, old, young, male and female, all strapped to the same chairs as he was. Some crying in disbelief, others growling and struggling against the chairs unbreakable restraints, and even some simply sitting idly like nothing had happened at all.  A small holographic display hovered in front of each of them. The image was that of a 'Grey Alien' head, floating and blinking, waiting patiently while all the abductees finally awoke.<br/><br/>"Hello...and welcome to your new life. As we are sure you probably realize by now, you have been removed from your home planet of.....'Earth', in order to serve a higher function in service of our benevolent empire. Time will be allowed for adjustment to this fact as we are sure many of you will take time to assimilate to your new roles.<br/><br/>We are a sentient race of beings called the 'Baal' and we are what your species would call, 'God'. We use this term loosely, but to cut to the heart of the matter, we evolved your species from the ape like creatures we found on your planet when we originally discovered it. The Baal are responsible for your creation and so as our property we are entitled, via Universal Law, to a percentage of your population. We take a minuscule portion every 50 years or so for our needs. You have been selected as one of the lucky few the opportunity to live among the very deities that created you. It takes roughly 25 years traveling at the speed of light for us to reach your planet from our own universal conglomerate of populated planets in this solar system.<br/><br/>The Baal have many uses for your kind and you should be happy to hear that the vast majority of you will get to live full lifespans in our service. We offer you purpose and can help you find the exact position your qualifications are best suited for. The Keypad under your right hand can access the Occupation System directory, which we shall begin now.<br/><br/>Question 1: Are you more suited for:<br/><br/>A) Manuel Labor (Black)<br/><br/>B) Servant (White)<br/><br/>C) Combat (Green)<br/><br/>D) Repetitive Assembly (Orange)<br/><br/>E) Other (Grey)<br/><br/>You have 5 seconds to answer...." The holographic head stated flatly while the people strapped to the chairs gasped at what they were hearing.<br/><br/><br/>Wyatt didn't hesitate and immediately pushed 'A' as he didn't want to be thrown in with whatever sort of alien army. Many of the others made selections too, but some of the people screamed out and refused to answer. The five seconds passed and those that didn't answer simply disappeared, their chairs opened up and they were sucked away with little more than a faded scream. Everyone's nerves tensed, as the realization started to set in.<br/><br/>"Thank you for complying.... As you can see resistance is futile. You'll now be issued a color coded unitard and ID number, for your new classification. Please form a line and step into the dorm section of the facility, You will be given 48 hours to acclimate to the climate and surroundings of your new world, before your work load commences. We recommend that you use this time to converse with your fellow slaves and don't be afraid to procreate as any Homosapien's born on planet will lessen your own workload. A brief Q&A session will be held tomorrow in this location, return here if you wish to know more about your situation. " The Holographic image fades away and several mechanized spray machines come down and spray a synthetic skintight color coated clothing onto the prison's naked bodies, before finally releasing them.<br/><br/>Many of the 80 or so people that remained stood up shakily and began to mull around the featureless white room. A panel of the wall opened and they could see into the adjourning room. It was a set of dormitory rooms and a cafeteria, the rooms numbered to match the new number on his Black uniform. '#6901' walked into his room and collapsed on the spartan metal cot, hoping beyond hope that this was still a bad dream and soon he'd wake up .