[center][img=http://i362.photobucket.com/albums/oo63/NMShape/coollogo_com-14706267_zps64516cfe.png][/center]
[center][b]Aubrey Adkins[/b][/center]
I’m never going to be able to live this one down, am I? I blackout right on the sidewalk, even before I had an ounce of alcohol. Knowing my luck, this was the result of Athena’s twisted humor, because, according to her, beer is the drink of uncivilized barbarians, while wine is the refreshment of the civilized world. Talk about old fashioned. And when I mean old fashioned, I mean dinosaurs walking the earth old.

But, yes, I’m never going to be able to live this one down, if I am able to get out of here, wherever that is. Chain-link fence flanked me on both sides and metal bars, just like the ones you would see in prison, enclosed me within the two chain-link fences. But this wasn’t the only cell in this room (how many times have I gotten myself shoved into a cell since I received my powers?). On either side of me and even across from my cell were similarly constructed make-shift enclosures. I would reckon that there were probably nine other cells like mine in this room.

I threw myself onto the cot that was provided by whoever kidnapped me (is this the third time? Really?). Why is this happening to me, of all people? What have I done to warrant me being kidnapped almost as many times as how many championships LeBron, Wade, and Bosh promised to win in Miami? Okay, that was an exaggerations, but why me?

While I was brooding over my current situation (and also the recent past), I glanced over to the cell next to me. In the cell was another woman, about my age. Maybe younger, but I would bet money that she’s in college (or at least old enough to be in college). Our captors must have drugged her up on something, like with anesthesia, since she was laying there almost motionless.

Why am I just sitting here? I’m a meta-human for crying out loud. If my captors had tried to drug me, just like the girl next to me, it is quite obvious that it did not work. I have super strength, right? Shouldn’t I be able to bend these bars? For once, I’m glad I have these powers because I would look like that girl in the cell next to mine if I didn’t. God knows what they are planning to do with us. I would rather not find out.

After allowing one of the guards to pass-by, I leapt up to my feet and tried to create an exit in the bars that enclosed me within my cell. While something seemed to have been affecting my enhanced strength, either the anesthesia or something else, nevertheless, with a little more effort, I bent two of the bars away from each other, creating a small gap large enough for me to slide through.

Since the guard walked toward the right, I obviously choose to go down left corridor. I didn’t want to be caught, right? I sneaked down the hallway, hoping that my ‘spider-sense’ wasn’t affected in the same way as my strength was. By the time I had almost reached the end of the hallway, I still had not found an exit from wherever I was.

Suddenly my ‘spider-senses’ began to buzz (at least they were working). At the end of the corridor was a kind of break room for the guards. There was a refrigerator and a table and even a phone. However, another guard was beginning to walk out of the room. In a split second, I leapt up onto the ceiling, hoping that he wouldn’t see me. Once he passed the threshold and began walking down the hallway, I felt a feeling of relief run through me. I actually was surprised that worked.

But what was I going to do now? I literally have reached a dead end and that guard who just missed me will realize I’m gone from my cell when he gets there (although him missing me just a few seconds ago gave me a little bit of hope that he wouldn’t notice that I was gone).

Wait, there’s a phone in there. I can call the police. They can track a call, right? They do that all the time on T.V. and in the movies; I’m sure that they can do something similar in real life.

“9-1-1, what is your emergency?” The operator asked me.

“I’ve been kidnapped and I don’t know where I am,” I bluntly blurred out, “I’m not joking! I don’t think I have much time until they discover that I’m out of my cell.”

“Miss, let me transfer your call to another department that might be able to help.” 

After a few seconds of silence as the 9-1-1 operator transferred my call to someone else, I heard a softer, more feminine voice on the other side of the phone.

“Hello, this is FBI Special Agent Allison Johnson. Just please stay calm. We’ll be there before you now it.”

But as she was talking, I could hear a commotion down the hall. Obviously, the guards had finally discovered that I no longer was waiting in my cell like a good captive.

“Could you hold a second?” I asked the FBI agent, placing the receiver down on the table before I heard a response from her.

I rushed over to the entrance of the room where I presently was. I slammed the door shut, pressing my back against it with a hope that I could hold the guards back. But how would I talk on the phone at the same time?

Then an idea hit me. I reached down to the wristband and pressed a button, causing my red and blue costume to appear. Finally fully clothed in my ‘superhero tights’, I shot a strand of webbing at the door. While I couldn’t instantaneously shoot out a complete web from my current web shooters, I could still use these strands as a way to hinder anyone on the outside from opening the door. 

After I plastered the door with numerous strands of webbing, I returned to the phone.

“Please tell me you can trace my location from this call.”