A/N: How's it going guys, The Space Bagel here. Today I am bringing you the first chapter of what I hope is going to be a multichaptered story. The first chapter will be in second point of view, but I don't plan on making the rest of the chapters this way, unless you guys ask me to. As per usual, reviews are appreciated and if you notice anything wrong, grammar or other, please make sure to tell me, as I do not have a proofreader *Le forever alone bagel*. On a side note, photo credit goes to Utsu San on Deviant Art.
Disclaimer Blarg: In Soviet Russia, Mass Effect disclaims you, which means I don't own Mass Effect or Shepard, sadly.
You let out an exasperated sigh as you glance down at your keyboard, before looking back up to your computer screen. Currently, you were typing the newest chapter to your Mass Effect story, but there was just one problem: Commander Shepard. In truth, she wasn't the problem, the problem was how hard it was to write her into a story. Seriously, you couldn't believe how hard it was to get her character correct, which is funny because you were the one who chose her personality beforehand. 'Paragon, good-humoured, loyal, mischievous, proud' You mentally went through your list of her traits, something that had become a habit of yours.
Biting your lower lip, the perfectionist in you notices several sentences on screen that don't fit or have too many commas. You force yourself to ignore those errors, or else you'd be here all day trying to perfect them all.
You scroll down several pages of text, happy with the amount of work you have accomplished so far. Deciding to reward yourself for this, you stand up out of your chair and walk out of your room. Taking a left turn in the hallway, you reach the kitchen. But you were not here to state the obvious, no, you were here for just one thing, the liquid that made all your late night gaming sessions possible: hot chocolate.
You walk over to the counter and snatch up the container before it somehow manages to vanish into thin air. You begin to walk towards your kettle, but a sudden loud bang, followed by the lights flickering and then shutting off entirely, stopped you. With a frown, you set down the hot chocolate container and reach into the nearby cupboard, pulling out an electric lantern.
Thinking about it now, the only reason you had bought an electric lantern instead of a flashlight was because the lantern reminded you of Amnesia. With a flick, you turn on your lantern and bath the room in a harsh glow, the shadows receding sharply as you walk around.
"Probably just another power-outage" You mumble to yourself as you walk towards your room. Still, the bang you had heard earlier had originated from your room, so maybe a bulb had just broke? You weren't sure, but you intended to find out one way or the other.
You turn right, walking into the hallway. Strange, your bedroom door is closed slightly, you were certain you had left it completely open when you had left.
"I must have closed it slightly without knowing it." You try to reassure yourself, but you couldn't help but feel a creeping feeling of dread as you approach your room, and the Amnesia-esque lantern certainly wasn't helping that. You silently push open your bedroom door, sticking your arm that held that lantern out and into the room to light it up. Quietly, you managed to get your whole body through the door way without making a sound, before closing the door behind you slightly.
As you scanned the room, you didn't notice anything odd or out of the ordinary. Apart from the fact that it appeared as though your computer turned off and you might have lost all you progress, nothing seemed strange. Well, except for that big blanket covered pillow in the middle of the floor. 'Wait...' You stop scanning the room and stare at the pillow. "I don't remember owning a gigantic pillow, or a black blanket."
Your eyes open wide as they finish adjusting to the rooms dim lighting, your jaw hanging slack as you look at the 'pillow' on the floor. That wasn't a pillow, or even a blanket for that matter. That was a person: a person in armour, and a person in the middle of your bedroom floor none the less. The room is filled with a deadly silence for several seconds, right before the person's eyes flutter open, then instinct takes over and you let out a scream.