Here it is, the Mass Effect retelling of the Grimm episode Mr. Sandman. You'll notice it isn't a complete transfer; I didn't watch it as I wrote this. Also, I don't know about you, but I was never convinced with the Jinimuru Xute's performance at the grief support meeting.
Chapter 0: Grief
A man got out of a sporty hover-car in front of the United Worlds Chapel of the Kithoi Ward. It was "evening;" there weren't really any days or nights in the Wards, but there were times when a majority of a given area would rest. Still, there were always businesses or social groups active every hour of every day.
The man in question was a young, attractive-looking human. He was of Caucasian descent, with dark hair neatly trimmed and dark eyes that suddenly squinted in pain. "Gahhhh!" He pushed his hand against his forehead and leaned against the wall of the Chapel. His free hand dove into his pocket, from which it began to remove a small, cylindrical object. The man growled again as he wrestled the object out of the pocket which had wrapped around it. Finally, he got it free; it was a small pill-bottle.
Quickly, the man wrenched open the lid and removed a few of the pills, shoving them into his mouth and down his throat. He continued to lean against the wall, panting, as the medicine went to work. Within a few moments, he was breathing normally again. Sighing, he straightened up, smoothed his shirt, and walked in.
Inside, a group of people sat in a ring of chairs. There were ten, all together, mostly human, but there was also an Asari, a male Turian, and a Drell female. One of the human women crying a great deal, and struggling to speak. "I just can-can't let go . . ." she stuttered, dabbing her eyes. "Every day when I wake up . . . I s-see him . . . and every night, when I go to sleep . . . he's there . . . lying on that table!" She stopped trying to speak, burying her face in her handkerchief.
"I know it's hard to believe, but you're doing very well, Kristy," the Asari spoke gently. Looking up, she saw the new arrival. "Hello, friend. Do you have anything you wish to share?"
"Oh, right," he said, speaking with an accent the Asari was unfamiliar with. "Hello, my name's Andre, and . . . my wife . . . she died about a year ago . . . brain cancer." The Asari nodded in sympathy; even with all the advances in modern medicine, cancer in the brain was still a terribly deadly disease. ". . . and, honestly, sometimes It's all I can do to get out of bed in the morning."
The meeting broke up shortly after the man spoke. The attendants helped themselves to the drinks and snacks provided, some making small talk small groups about . . . various subjects. Amongst those was a couple composed of Kristy and Andre, the late arrival. "You're wife sounds like she was an amazing person."
He nodded. "She was easy to talk to . . ."
"So, your accent . . . I'm guessing South Africa?"
"Ah, you got a good ear. Most people think Australian—immediately go the shrimp on the barbie thing."
"Long way from home," she said.
"Yeah," Andre replied. "I came for a job . . . and to get away."
"Yeah," Kristy said, "I wish I could do that." Setting her cup down, she turned to leave. "I got to go. It's late, and I have long walk home."
Andre let her walk for a moment, before placing his own beverage on the table. Following after her, he offered, "I could give you a ride." She stopped and turned to him. "Sorry," he said. "Forget I said anything."
"I'll take it," Kristy said.
iAndre's eyebrows went up. "But, you don't know me."
"I know you're still in love with your wife," she countered, "and I know I won't be getting any sleep tonight . . ."
"Sorry I don't have better coffee," Kristy said, setting down her own mug. "That was always Adam's specialty." She instantly brought her hands up to her eyes. "I promised myself I wasn't going to do this."
"It's all right," Andre encouraged her. "Let it out."
"Thanks, but I'm not shedding anymore tears; at least I hope not. I don't want to cry anymore."
"But I want you to," Andre said, frowning. Kristy turned to him, wide-eyed, and saw the man take a deep breath and blow red sand into her face.
"Ow," she said, getting up and stumbling around the room. "Ow! What did you do to me? OW!" Whatever he'd blown into her eyes was stinging horribly. Tears began streaming down her cheeks.
She didn't hear Andre get up and move in front of her, but she did hear him when he said, "That's better. That's what I like." Then, he grabbed her wrists, tight enough to hurt. Strangely, they felt rougher and hairier than they should have. She also heard a loud buzzing noise, and felt something warm and slimy on her wet eyes. Suddenly, he let go, and she fell to the floor. Above her, she heard him sighing in pleasure, "Ah! Aaaaah!" Then, he turned and walked away, leaving her laying there.
Kristy crawled across the floor, trying to find something to help her stand up. "Help! Somebody help me! I CAN'T SEE! I'M BLIND!" She didn't recognize the metal bookcase when she found it, nor did she realize that it couldn't support her weight. Even as it began to fall forward, she had no idea that her death was rushing to meet her.
Aaaaaaaaaand, done.
