Prologue

My mother bought me a Nintendo at a very early age. Because I was so young, this allowed me to develop differently than most kids, because it was a form of entertainment that most of the other kids didn't have. I grew up with Nintendo, and have always pondered what it was like to be inside these games. Being a child, an imagination like this was normal, but these games let me use it in a different way.

While progressing through my teen years, I had outgrown these childish thoughts and started to focus my thoughts on other teenage things, like dirt bikes, sports cars, and girls. I still played video games, but not as seriously as I had in my early childhood. Once I became an adult, I started to go back in thought to my childhood. That imagination that I had developed had become strong, because of the development that I had. I started to ponder once again about my video games, and what it would be like to see these things in the real world.

The Mario Bros. stuck straight out in my mind. I soon started to picture this world in a horror reality. Giant flying turtles, hideous walking fungus, and mushroom steroids inhabited this world. I had all these ideas rush into my mind all at once, so I had to write them down. What is written ahead is the result of a colorful childhood imagination taken over by the reality of an adult's developed mind.

Chapter One

It is July, and an ice cold rain has deluged the bustling, polluted city of Brooklyn. You'd know if you lived there that rainfall so debilitating is unusual that time of year. That particular day, Mario had to toil in the under workings of the city. The old pipes had contracted so quickly because of the drastic change in temperature that a few of them had given to the pressure.

He stood there waist deep in the ice cold runoff with his wrench in one hand, while he checked his legs with his other to see if they were still there. He had cuts on his hands, but they were not bleeding because of the bitter cold. He found many times that it was hard to keep himself standing. The only pleasure that was found was the moments where he had put downwards torque on the bolts that lifted weight from his legs. Minutes before he was to leave back to headquarters, he thought about his life back at his apartment and how he longed to be there in the warmth with his princess. He then took a second and stood there to think about how unusual this cold rain is.

Suddenly, in his delusion of thought, the pipe he was working on ruptured into a deadly spray of shrapnel and sewage water. A fairly large chunk of metal hit him in the head, just above his left ear. His vision faded into darkness as he thought he saw a swirl of deep warm colors racing towards him before he finally blacked out.

In Mario's state of unconsciousness, he encountered a dream which was unlike anything he had ever seen before. He couldn't even begin to describe or comprehend it. He was looking at an incomplete image of his own world, the one he loved so much, despite his afflictions therein. So incomplete, that he was barely able to recognize the people. Everything else was a blur of blinding bright light.

The crimson-headed, battered and torn man opened his eyes. Painfully, he tried to look around, but could only see a blur of white. He realized he was lying down in a bed, with sounds of machines giving steady beeps which rang loudly in his ears. He tried to sit up, but failed. Then, trying a second time, he tried with all his might to recover himself from his horizontal state. He made it, and by that time, he started to see the distinct details of the room that he was in. He sluggishly realized that he was in a hospital room filled with monitors and cables. He glanced back down at the bed he once fully occupied and beheld a bloody pillow. He then remembered what had happened to him and also was brought to a remembrance of his awful pain that torments his skull. He stood up off of the bed and stumbled over to a drawer with dressings and bandages. After poorly wrapping his wound, he picked up his hat (which was lying on the bloody pillow) and put it on. He then opened the door to his room and looked toward one of the desks, when he found nobody there. He looked around, down the hallway to the right, and only saw abandoned beds and mobile machines. The only sounds that were heard came from the equipment from his room.

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