Prologue:

My name is Nick Jacobsen. I'm 23 years old, I have black hair, I'm 6'3, and pretty physically fit. I can run like hell, and I can climb, not like Assassin's Creed climbing. Rock climbing, not quite as cool, but it was a hobby of mine when I was younger(15). I am an active gamer. Also as a result I can be pretty vulgar. I have occasionally (almost never) TRIED (and FAILED if I didn't make that clear) to write fan fiction for many different games, but this would be the first I've published. I live in Colorado; I own an apartment near Denver. I enjoy reading fan fiction. And that's all that you need to know about me.

One day I got home from work, I had thought a while about making a self-insert fan fiction, on that I would actually put on . I debated the chances of this story actually getting finished with myself while running a few miles. After that I thought fuck it what's the worst that could happen? I quickly decided on Mass Effect as the game. I sat down at my computer, opened up Microsoft Word. Well, that's when everything went to hell.

Chapter 1:

"Fuck, this writing is hard."

A loud banging rang from the door.

"There is a fuckin doorbell, jesus." I mumbled

I grabbed the key from my pocket, fumbled with it until it fit into the lock and pulled open the door. There was a whole list of people I thought might be at the door. I for one did not expect to see multiple people. The man in front had a visor, no a helmet, pitch black and white with a few yellow parts, and a suit of body armor to match. The others with him were dressed in the same armor. It took me almost 3 seconds to realize who these people were. Cerberus.

"That's him! Open fire!"

I tried to run, escape, anything. I turned and got four feet before bullets started flying. I felt something, things, hit my left arm. It was only jarring not painful, yet. I kept running to my bedroom I had a weapon there, a Glock .45. They came running after me. I arrived and threw open the drawer. I grabbed the pistol just as one of the troops came around the door. I aimed at his head and squeezed the trigger. His shields were designed for mass accelerator rounds not a bullet. It smashed against his head. He was stunned for a few seconds. The others slowed down behind him. It was more than enough time to act.

I adjusted my aim and started running towards a window. I pulled the trigger as many times as I could before I jumped and crashed through the window. A couple thousand thoughts went through my mind as I fell. Some ones worth noting were 'I live two stories up. I hit the ground wrong, broken legs/ankle, Cerberus come back out, dead. I could try to roll, I still had enough forward momentum to do so. What's the worst that could happen? Well you could land on your neck, dead. Well try to roll it is I guess.'

To my amazement I did it. It was much less graceful than the climbing I do when I normally go off a building, well I don't roll. None the less I made it. I looked around trying to shake it off. The grass around me was red, my left arm, decorated with four bullet holes and a lot of blood. I felt sick to my stomach, and that's when it started to hurt.

"Mother fucker."

I grabbed my Glock which had landed a few feet away. I used my good arm to push myself up. I started running. It was late so there wasn't anyone out, not sure if that was good or bad, sure felt bad at the time. Anyone to help would be nice.

My little brother, and my parents for that matter, lived only 7 miles awa… 7 miles was a whole lot of ground to cover with 4 fuckin bullet wounds. Going back wasn't an option. I took off my t-shirt, I still had my jacket, and tried as best I could to wrap it around my wounds. The pain was incredible; they all looked like they went clean through so I should be good there.

I just then realized that I was exhausted all the adrenalin and only running a few blocks, a voice, yes, it wasn't my head, a voice, not my imagination, in the back of my mind whispered.

"Rest, just for a while, that is enough for now."

"Ok just for a while, not long." I replied actually speaking out loud

I walked over into an alley, dropping my pistol to the ground as I went, stood against a wall, slid down until I was on the ground. And everything went dark.

"Well well well, look what we have here."

I tried to look up, I was still in the alley, but it was bright, early morning maybe. I felt more light headed than I ever had before. My makeshift bandage was almost all dark red, had lost a lot of blood. It was a nice morning. The sky, bright blue, the moon hadn't even set yet. A shame Cerberus was here. A lone trooper stood over me.

"This is Echo-317 we found him."

Much more faintly over his radio I could hear, "Good, order are for him to be terminated."

"Affirmative. You enjoy your beauty sleep?"

"*groan* you know as a matter of fact I did."

"Hah. Farewell." He pointed the rifle at my head.

In a last burst of energy I jumped up and rammed into him as hard as I could. All that did was make him stumble back. I turned to run, almost out of the alley things slowed down. I felt an impact in my lower back, and my legs went rigid. They wouldn't move. And a man in onyx black armor turned the corner. Very swiftly he grabbed me by the shirt, extended an omni-blade and plunged it into my neck. It didn't hurt, I just suddenly felt tired, so very tired. I landed on my injured arm, but the pain had left the moment I was stabbed.

"Target, eliminated, ready for examination."

There were more words. I didn't hear them, everything started to fade. Sounds to a mumble, and my vision went black. I expected it to end then and there. But no, no my story was just beginning.

Authors Note: Well The last sentence is as 'cheesy' as it gets. I guess that this is the part where I beg for reviews. I tried to edit this as much as I could without melting my brain. I have the next chapter planned out but please tell me if I did anything good, if I royally fucked something up, etc, etc, in any case thank you for reading.