"No escape... no hope.." those were the only words that could be heard as a man in an orderly ran down the darkened facility corridor, terrified at what he saw; what one could describe as a brief gaze into the eye of hell as he ran from the unearthly voice repeating those same words. No escape. No hope. Those words repeating over and again as he saw miniture wraiths and imps materialized in front of him. The wraiths repeating the eerie, despaired-filled chant while the imps... were talking of different things.

"OOOH! The boss chose a good one to practice on!" One of the imps gleefully cheered!

"Yeah! I wonder how he'd be to devour!!" Another imp grinned fiendishly.

The orderly backed as far as he could into a corner before he curled up into a fetal position and....

"I never thought I'd live to see the day that I'd see an orderly piss himself out of terror," rang a harsh and raspy voice as he looked on at the handy work of his imps and wraiths, as one of the wraiths jumped at the orderly, only to go through the man. The funny thing about these creations though, the man mused to himself, they're still intangible.

"What is going on here?!" A voice bellowed as the lights to the corridor came on brightly. A group of orderlies and a doctor hurried towards the orderly and the creator of the demons; a young man dressed in the outfit of a patient at an asylum with 'TS-1215' patched onto his shirt.

"Subject 1215, you know better than to practice your abilities on anyone in authority in this place!" One of the orderlies growled as he grabbed the man known as 1215. That was before he received a headbutt for his troubles. Several other of the orderlies flocked towards restraining 1215, each receiving a punch, kick or random orderlie being thrown in their direction. This small little bit of chaos happened until the doctor pushed up her glasses and spoke up. "1215 -- Tate!! That's enough!!"

1215, or Tate as he was known as to some others, calmed down at the sound of the doctor's voice. "And what seems to be the problem this time, doc?" He asked with a remote sense of sarcasm mixed in a friendly tone. "If it's about the blubbering goon over in the corner? I was only having a bit of fun..." He stopped mid-sentence, sniffed the air and started laughing. "Shit, I think I overdid that part. Didn't make him just piss his pants."

The doctor glared coldly at Tate as she moved closer. "You know you aren't supposed to use your powers. Not on the patients, definitely not on the orderlies. Need I remind you that if you keep this up, you'll be sent back to prison?"

Tate just grinned wider. "You mean I get to raise chaos again! Oh, perish the fucking thought! Are you done or are these jackasses here gonna keep trying to hold me as if I'm their last shot at losing their virginity?"

The doctor, shaking her head and frustration, pointed down the hallway. "Just take 1215 back to his cell. Make sure the cell's fully lit."

The orderlies dragged Tate down the hallway as he still struggled to get free from them. "Shit! Does this mean I don't get in-cell pizza or smokes either?!"

She knew he was going to be a handful.