Greetings to all. I am SixSouls. It was recommended to me that I try and write a FanFiction online due to how well I write on paper. So, as little time as I have for anything, I'm going to try this. I prefer writing surreal fiction, so I thought a 'fic like this would be a good start. Please note that this is my first FanFic.

Also, this story can be greatly influenced by the readers! Polls will often be up on my profile for you to affect how certain things go, or even what may happen next. Thank you for your possible future participation.

Anyhow, please enjoy.

Creeeeeee...

I wake up, albeit slowly. Judging by the darkness of my room, it must be the dead of night, likely well past the time known as the 'witching hour.' For me to have awoken like this... had I heard something? There's no other reason I could've woken up, as I feel no need to use the bathroom or get a glass of water. In my groggy state, I listen to all the noises I can hear. The majority of sounds came from outside, and when I push aside the window blinds, I find that…

…It was a dark and stormy night.

…Seriously, it is. The rain is coming down heavily enough to make a very sharp pattering against the house, and thunder could be heard in the distance, accompanying the occasional flashes of lightning. In any case, I had been woken up, and now groggily wore a deadpan expression towards the cliché weather.

Accepting the fact that I'd probably not be falling back asleep tonight, I go to climb out of bed to use my laptop. That's when I hear it.

Click-clomp, click-clomp.

Faintly hearing an unfamiliar noise, I carefully sit up so as to not make the bed creak. Upon assuming a sitting position, I stay completely still for a long moment until I hear the noise once more.

Click-clomp, click-clomp.

It's very faint, to the point that I can barely make it out. But I know for a fact that that noise is completely foreign to me. We have no machinery, devices, or pets that make that sound in the house. So naturally, this new sound has me quite intrigued, and very alert.

I carefully climb out of my loft bed, careful not to let the wooden ladder steps creak as I do so. I check the alarm clock that's on my desk, which shows in a bright lime-green light that the time is two forty-two in the morning. 'Yup,' I thought, knowing I had to be up at seven o' clock. 'Definitely going to have trouble getting back to sleep.'

Putting aside my irritation, I move my focus back to the matter at hand, cautiously walking across my room and putting my ear to my door. Soon enough, I heard the noise again.

Click-clomp, click-clomp. Click-clomp, click-clomp.

What even is that sound? I certainly don't recognize it, and with it moving at such a rhythm, I can't…

Click-clomp, click-clomp. Click-clomp, click-clomp.

Are those… footsteps?

Click-clomp, click-clomp. Click-clomp, click-clomp.

After a moment of pondering the possibilities, I conclude that that is the only possible thing the sound could be, what with the frequent rhythm they appear to move at. I know for a fact that it certainly isn't any of the roommates, because they're both home, and they both know that you're not to walk around with your shoes outside of the foyer and garage.

It seems to be that someone is —rather unstealthily— walking around on the downstairs wood floor in their shoes, and they're certainly taking their time browsing our belongings, taking very brisk, paced steps. I'm surprised no one else in the house has been woken up by this noisy intruder. Personally, I'm fully awake now.

Click-clomp, click—

Quite suddenly, the strange footsteps simply stop halfway through. After hearing a small, familiar creak, it occurs to me that whomever it was downstairs must be coming up the carpeted stairs. For a moment, I find myself quietly panicking, realizing that if I were to leave my room now, I would rather quickly find myself facing this intruder, who very possibly could be armed and dangerous. With that logic in mind, I continue to listen through my bedroom door, keeping my oncoming hyperventilation in check, reassuring myself that I'll be fine. After all, if they came into my room, I would have time to press myself against the wall, and have my door and coat rack conceal me.

As I continue to listen, I can hear whoever it was carefully opening the doors to other bedrooms, then closing them back about a minute later. They seemed to be checking in every room for something. I pinned myself against the wall so that my door would hide me when my door was opened. I was still very confused as to how nobody had been awoken by them yet. I first hear the master bedroom door open, followed by the workout room door, then the roommates' door…

Wait, the roommates' door? But… that door has a code lock installed on it! Was it left unlocked? Or did the intruder somehow know the passcode? I begin wondering if the intruder was one of our previous roommates here for some reason… but why would any of them waltz in in the dead of the night? Then, the realization of that causes me to remember that the front door also has a passcode lock. I quickly find myself even more worried about this intruder. Either they're someone I'll know well enough to give a strict questioning, or they're someone who's been observing us for quite some time. I have a sinking feeling that it's the latter.

After I hear the office door close, a few seconds pass until I hear a quiet chuckle come from behind my door. I quickly press my back against the wall and control my breathing t be soundless right before it opens. I'm certain that I am completely hidden from the intruder's sight, what with the door, multiple coats and jackets, and the darkness of the night all concealing my presence. Unfortunately, this is also a disadvantage for me. With my vision blocked by the door, I find myself unable to see who the intruder is.

After a short moment of silence, the intruder finally vocalizes, "Hmmm…" The murmur gives away his gender, at least, so I know now that he's male.

I hear his feet briskly move across my room's carpet as he went through my room. From what I can hear, he's moving my closet door to the side, then lifting my couch up. After he places it down not-so-soundlessly, I figure that he's probably looking for a specific person, and that person very well could be me. I hear my desk chair move, its wheels sliding across the carpet, the sound clear in the quiet of the night. I assume that he's looking under my desk. Finally, I hear my loft bed creak slightly, giving away that he's searching for someone there.

After he's finished rifling through my room with no results, the intruder lets out a confused murmur. Then, he speaks out his confusion.

"Strange... is there really no one here…?" I hear his voice say quietly enough that it was probably meant to be just to himself. However, the voice is shockingly familiar to me, to the point that I would consider that I'm hearing things.

My eyes widen at the impossibility of the intruder's voice. I feel my heart pound as my brain tries to make sense of this inconceivable situation. I desperately try to keep myself calm, but hyperventilation momentarily gets the advantage and I end up taking in a breath a little too loudly.

My breath did not go undetected. Swiftly, my door is flung closed, not to the point of being slammed, but still doing the job. I find myself facing someone I'd never expect to be able to physically meet on any conceivable natural terms.

"H-How…" is all I can manage to stammer as I look up at him.

He intimidatingly towers above me, his eyes gleaming like a cat's in the dark. He's looking down at me, his eyes looking over my face, which I am definitely sure holds quite an astonished expression. He chuckles as he makes eye contact with me, then begins to speak. I cannot clearly see his face in the dark, but I do see his jaw move with every word.

"So you were here... you were simply hiding from me. How curious…" He says to me. I seem to have lost my voice, and he chuckles before he continues. "You have an unexpectedly good sense of hearing. I hadn't expected to be discovered in this fun little mission. That does spice this up for me, though, so you won't find me complaining." As he speaks, I can practically hear the smile in his voice.

After staring at my terrified self for a long minute that drags on in the absolute silence, his gaze moves away from me, and instead travels about my room, lingering on the walls for some time. I can see his smiling expression with my eyes completely adjusted to the dark as he returns his eyes to me. He chuckles again, this time with what sounds to be a sense of amusement instead of mischief.

"I do so believe she was right in her target selection. You'll likely do better than we initially intended…" He says cryptically.

Finding my voice again, I inquire of that, "H-Huh? What d-does that mean?" I don't like the way he's phrased that. That sounds like something a kidnapper working for an organization would say, but that's probably unlikely based on who's the one saying it.

His eyes gleam in the darkness as he turns his back on me, seemingly completely ignoring my query. He then raises an arm and brings his hand to his face, possibly examining something in it.

"Nicely, indeed…" He says with a chuckle.

"What do you mean, I'll do nicely?" I say clearly, my confusion momentarily overpowering my fear. This time, it gets his attention as he turns back towards me, and a response is received. His tone gives away his amusement towards… well, whatever could possibly have him amused.

"Ah, well, as much as I'd love to tell you, I'm not allowed to spoil the fun. You know how women are and all, yes? Lady's orders prevent me from just doing whatever I want here," He responds unhelpfully, just leaving me even more confused. "Sorry, kid. But hey, I hear you've got something real important to get to tomorrow, and seeing as it's… what… three eighteen in the morning? You ought to be sleeping, right?"

Looking at the clock and pulling myself away from my disbelief that this dialogue could even be happening right now, I find that he is correct in his time telling. I am momentarily brought back to a logical train of thought as I realize with a panic that I must be up in less than four hours.

"Need help getting to sleep?" He suddenly asks. "Allow me!"

Without any warning, he flicks me on the forehead rather painfully.

With a start, I wake up.

I jolt out of my bed, hitting my forehead painfully upon the ceiling as I do so. Cursing my younger self for wanting such a tall bed under my breath, I climb out of the loft bed and glance at my clock.

6:56 a.m., it reads in that lime-green light.

I glower at the clock that is minutes away from going off, and take a seat in my desk chair. That dream still somewhat fresh in my mind, I look around at what he may have been looking at. But all that was on my walls were random posters of characters from games and anime, and other drawings I've made up in my free time.

I suddenly realize that I'm putting a little too much concern into what was simply a dream. 'Why am I even dwelling on this?' It was a just a dream, and it couldn't mean anything in reality.

Yet, as I scan over my room's walls myself, I found my eyes glued to the poster made by Kiriska placed next to my door.

Why was it him?

The alarm clock then went off, and I press the stop button.

Princesses' Big Brother!?
Chapter One – Abnormal Day

I proceeded to dress myself, replacing my sci-fi-themed sleepwear with cargo shorts, a plain black tee-shirt, and a cargo button-down tee. I head down the stairs to find that no one else is home. I have the house to myself. I love having the house to myself.

After checking my phone for messages, I confirmed that I have no work today, and entered the kitchen, looking around at what I might make for breakfast. I settle for bacon, eggs, corn, and ramen all in one bowl, with some grapes, carrots, and nori on the side.

During and after my meal, I watch the most recent episodes of the multiple anime that I'm currently following, as I figure that I have nothing better to do to pass the time. In the middle of Episode Eleven of To LOVE Ru Darkness 2nd, it suddenly hits me that there's still a few chores that need to be done before I head out today. I get those chores done as quickly as possible, without sacrificing the quality of the cleaning, leaving behind the television that has my show paused on a perfect freezeframe at the scene where Yukki Rito has tripped while walking across a beanstalk-like plant. I am understandably anxious to return to this after my chores.

As I'm sweeping, however, I notice that there're a few scuff marks on the wood floors that weren't there yesterday. I sighed, figuring that my one of the roommates, or possibly my stepfather, must have forgotten to take off their shoes at the door again this morning, probably dragging their feet across the floor. I later scrubbed the scuff marks off the floor, and left a note on the common area whiteboard for the household regarding what had happened, deliberately not calling out any singular person in order for this to be a message to all, instead of the berating of one.

As I am finishing up turning off the television and gathering my belongings that I'll be needing today, I look over at the stove clock, which currently reads eleven-seventeen in the morning. I get up, making sure I have everything that I'll need, and walk to the door, slipping on my black leather shoes and wrapping a black long-sleeved button-down and a blue hoodie around my waist, just in case.

I leave the house, having placed a separate note on the counter telling anyone who cares where I went off to so they don't think that I'd been kidnapped or some shit. Now, if you couldn't tell before, I love cargo clothes, because I have many things I carry with me, and bags really weigh a person down. Allow me to explain.

In my cargo tee, I have my GameBoy Color in the left chest pocket, and the games for it in the right. Similarly, my Game Boy Advance is in the right lower pocket, and the games for it as well as spare 'AA' batteries in the left. My cargo shorts hold my 3DS in the upper left pocket, and the case for its games and its charger in the lower left. The upper right pocket contains my PSP, and the lower right is deep enough to hold my Nextbook laptop-tablet alongside its charger. Cargo clothing, as you can see, is extremely useful, and negates the need for a heavy bag, especially when the pockets are button-up or come with a zipper.

I leave my home cul-de-sac filled to the brim with determination, as I am quite excited for the event I'm heading to today.

I was attending my third tournament.

It had been a long while since I actually had the time to go to the tournament with all the things on my plate, such as both high- and vocational school, as well as my part-time job, so I find myself really pumped for this. Honestly, I don't expect to do well, even though this isn't exactly an official 'best of the best' kind of tournament. It's not likely that anyone famous in this field of gaming would attend. Even with those thoughts, I head to the Park and Ride that's close to home and wait for the city transit to arrive.

It was when I got on the bus a few moments later that my day started becoming a slight bit off. I head to the furthest back of the bus and sit down in the very middle seat, dubbed 'The Throne' by my friends and I, where the seats are mostly unoccupied. In fact, the only one that is occupied back here is just near me, in one of those seats that faces towards the aisle. In the one further away from me of those two seats was a young woman who looks to be likely in her late twenties.

Her hair is a dark black with a red streak that goes all the way down the middle, and is long enough to go halfway down her back. She wore a plain tan sundress. She holds a dark purple purse with a bright blue cover, and I can see from her hand placed on the bag that her nails are painted a vibrant yellow. She wears green socks that go halfway up her calf for some reason, and her sneakers are completely brown, outer sole and laces included. To say the least, she seems to have a strangely unique fashion sense.

She looks up as I walk into the back of the bus, now wearing what looks like a knowing smile. Her expression gives off a sense as if she had been expecting to see me. Her piercing green eyes follow me as I sit down. I suspect that she'll probably say something.

"Hello," She greets me.

"Hello," I greet back, albeit reflexively. Looks like I was right.

"Where are you headed?" She asks me. I'm used to dealing with conversational passengers on the transit, and often just give them subtle hints that I don't want to engage in any dialogue. However, I'm in a bit of a better mood today, so I decide it won't hurt anything to answer this lady.

"I'm going to a gaming tournament," I tell her.

"Oh, that's sounds entertaining. Where at?"

"It's at the convention center near the mall."

"Oh. I'm headed to the mall, myself. I'm going shopping," she tells me. "I'll likely be getting off before you, then."

"Possibly," I answer her speculation. "It would depend on if you get off before or after the bus passes Sears." She tells me that she does, in fact, get off before Sears, in which I respond that I'd be on the bus a few stops longer than she.

She smiles kindly after that interaction and introduces herself, "My name's Erica."

I reciprocate the smile and introduce myself. I find that, for once, there's a worthwhile conversation to be had with a stranger on the bus.

We continue to chat during the ride, various topics being discussed, with only one really worthy of noting.

"Would you mind if I ask you a question that could be considered random and possibly strange?" Erica asks after we conclude a discussion about pufferfish.

"Uh, sure," I allow. "Shoot."

She leans forwards towards me, and with a raised finger, she asks in a hushed tone, "Do you believe that someone who holds an absolute power, one that can be considered far beyond others, should use it for their personal advantage, or for others'?"

I kind of just blank for a moment after processing the inquiry. It was a question that really made my mind to work. Certainly, a strange question, this was one of those tests that can determine the type of person you truly are in your soul.

"Well, it depends on what kind of 'absolute power' this is," I question her question, intending to dig further for more details. I was curious as to exactly what she meant.

She looks slightly shocked that I hadn't given an instant answer for her question, but instead pried further into it. She smiled at that, and explained further, "Let's say, for example, being able to do what is sometimes referred to as 'godmoding.'"

"Alright then." She's talking about godmoding? That's one hell of a power to make such a decision over.

I think about the given scenario for a few minutes, before finally coming to a conclusion.

"Personally, I'd say it should be used in a form of a three-way balance," I start. Erica appears to be confused by my answer, so I go on to explain in more detail.

"I don't believe it should just be used for one's personal benefits, nor should it just be used to benefit others. I don't mean you shouldn't use the power; If one has such a power, one certainly shouldn't neglect it. Instead, I believe that the one who has that power should balance it out to all three of those ways; Use it for yourself, as well as for others, but also issue restraint. In other words, sometimes, just don't use it. If you allow yourself to go overboard and rely on such power for everything, eventually, ...well..." I carry on to take on the tone of an infomercial advertiser, "Side effects may include loss of care for the world and those around you, eventually going mad with power, getting grand delusions that you could actually foolishly carry out, and betraying the hearts of everyone you know and love."

About halfway through my explanation, Erica had started staring at me with wide eyes. At the end of it, I feel as if I had spoken like a philosopher, but that just may be my seventeen-year-old mindset's ego trying to swell. After about a half-minute of awkward silence, Erica gives a small chuckle. Her tittering confuses me, but she soon responds to my detailed answer.

"Wow. Just... wow!" Erica exclaims. "You really thought about that question, and came up with such a beautiful conclusion! That's the best answer I've heard from anyone ever! Thank you for that. I now know that I wa—" she said with a smile, her eyes positively sparkling. Suddenly, the intercom on the bus interrupts, and Erica looks up disappointingly. "Ahh, looks like this is my stop. Thank you for the pleasant chat."

"It was enjoyable," I tell her, giving her a smile and a small wave goodbye as she stepped off the bus. I realize that the woman is quite tall, more so than most tall people I know.

I didn't think anything abnormal of the conversation at all, nor did I stop to wonder what she was going to say before she was cut off. It was just small talk, anyways.

I got off the bus, glad that I had had someone to talk to on the way here so that I hadn't drained my handheld's batteries beforehand. I walked toward the building that was hosting the tournament with hopes that there'll be as much of a challenge this time as I remember from last time.

As I get closer to the front doors of the convention center, I hear someone call out my name. I turn around, and see the two friends of mine who had invited me to join them in this tournament some weeks ago. Both of them male, the Asian-American guy is very physically fit, with healthy brown hair and a lean muscle mass, while the white guy may as well have been a look-alike of Shaggy from the live-action Scooby-Doo, except younger. Taking on some overexaggerated confidence, I smirk at them as something considerably witty comes to mind.

"So!" I called back to them. "You guys actually showed up! I was afraid that I might not've see you!"

"And why's that?" the Asian-American, Kaylub, asked back with a raised brow, likely unsure of what I mean. The lanky one, Terry, wears an inquisitive expression at my statement.

"Obviously because I'm here, participating," I tell them, acting like I've got top-notch skill. "I feared that that fact might've scared you two off."

Kaylub takes a gasp of fake hurt and wore an accompanying expression. Terry scoffs in response as he says, "Do you mean to say... that we'd fear you?"

"Nooo, I mean to say that you'd have no problem eliminating me," I respond in kind, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

"You mean that wasn't already true?" Kaylub asks, false shock present in his tone.

We share a laugh as we enter the building.

The convention center was full of people, but we make a beeline for the registration line before we start socializing with anyone else. Today is going to be awesome. I hope that I can at least make it to just before the quarterfinals.

Hours later, I'm currently steeling myself for my next opponent. From what Kaylub has told me, this guy has a 'wicked nasty' strategy that no one had been able to work their way around or even properly counter yet. I had come far, and was going to be facing this 'Drake' person in the semi-finals of the tournament. I have found that the majority of my opponents were just as challenging as I had initially hoped, and I was glad to have made it further than my original goal. I'm quite determined to continue pushing forwards to enter the final round. However, from what I'd heard in my consultations with all his previous opponents in this tournament, his strategy was nigh unreadable, seemingly came out of nowhere, and he'd wipe the floor with them without missing a beat. And the its execution was almost always slightly different, as if it were built to handle and counter any possible opposing strategy. So, I found myself extraordinarily interested in how my next opponent played.

Quite suddenly, Kaylub pulls me aside from the girl I was gaining advice from and points the man out of the crowd. I then thank and excuse myself from the girl to take a faraway gander at him. From what I could see, Drake is a Caucasian man who wears red jeans and a brown sleeved-vest. His jet-black hair goes far down his back, and his brown shoes, squinting let me see that they were Converses, had neon green laces. That was all I could see from afar.

It was later when we both approached the table and shook hands that my day then became even stranger. I take this chance to get a closer look at Drake. His face was showing a trace of wrinkle, and he had a small bit of a scruff down the middle of his chin that extended to his upper neck. From looks alone, I speculated that he may be in his forties. As for attire, he has wrapped his hands in yellow bandages. He wears scarlet red contacts, which undoubtedly gave him an edge in intimidation. He has a striped shirt in the colors of blue and purple. He smiles at me, revealing a missing canine, and bowed his head in a respectful manner. This close, I can see that there are streaks in his hair of blue and white. I wondered if streaks in hair was suddenly becoming a really popular thing now even with older adults. I don't really keep up with trends, so I wouldn't know.

However, his most striking feature was the sclera of his eyes, which I couldn't help but to question him about.

"Before we begin…" I trail off in my opening question.

"Hmm?"

"Do you have thalassemia?" I ask.

Drake smiles and politely replies, "No, actually, I have G6PD deficiency. Good guess, though."

"Ah," I say, and sit down. He does the same. We exchange names. We prepare ourselves for the match.

It was then that he proceeded to royally kick my ass.

My friends and I leave the building with varying expressions. Terry was disappointed in himself, having lost in the second round. Kaylub, who had lost to me in the quarterfinals, was concerned towards my current state. He must have noticed that I'd donned an expression of deep thought and careful consideration.

"What's up?" He asks me.

"Hmm? ...I'm thinking about Drake," I reply with a troubled tone. His demeanor in our match had really quite irked me, and I can't help but think back to it.

"Who, me?" a voice asks.

The three of us start as we turn around to see Drake, who appears to have just left the building and overheard me. I look up at him, noticing how tall he is, and reply, "You never spoke once during our match."

"I didn't see the need to," he responds, shrugging. "I felt that words were not needed in our match."

"And why's that?" I ask of him. I've unexpectedly realized that his voice is somewhat familiar, as if I've heard it somewhere before. However, it sounds much too deep to be recognizable, as if it is being masked, so I can't exactly place my finger on it. Perhaps, if I keep him talking, I'll have a better chance at identifying it.

"You were different. A challenge," Drake answers, his complete seriousness evident in his tone.

I look up at the man, honestly surprised by his words. Me? A challenge? After my long absence from the entire tournament scene? Flattering, I think to myself. But I smell bullshit.

Before I can respond at all, Drake reaches into the inside of his sleeved vest and pulls a sparkling item out of it.

Hooked onto a blue chain, encased in what very well could be gold, is a decently-sized amethyst about the size of half my palm that's in the perfect shape of a five-pointed star. My eyes widen at the sight of it, and I'm sure my friends' did, too. It is certainly a very impressive necklace.

Drake smiled at our expressions. "Beautiful, eh? I wanted you to have it."

My friends look at me in awe after he says this, but I begin to feel suspicions as to this sudden gift.

"Seriously?" I ask him, hardening my gaze. I'm scanning for any signs of falsities or bullshitting.

"Yes," he affirms simply. I can detect no negative intent from him.

"And exactly what reason would you have to give me such a valuable necklace? If I'm not mistaken, that looks very much like a real jewel," I openly question Drake's intent. Kaylub and Terry were apparently very shocked as to the fact that I wasn't simply taking the gem right of the bat. But I feel that I need to be certain this wasn't somehow some sort of a trap.

"It is," Drake confirms, his smile growing. "I figured I'd give it to you, seeing as you were clearly the most impressive opponent I faced. You put up quite an intense fight. You even nearly cornered me. No one else in there could manage that."

"Everyone fought hard, since it was a tournament," I tell him, not about to fall fore mere flattery. "Forgive me, but I don't quite believe that would be your only reason for giving me this. Honestly, it seems like a pretty cheap explanation to me."

I can feel my friends shooting daggers at me with their glares, but I pay them no attention. Their opinions don't matter right now. This is something I'm going to be very cautious and intently curious about. I can tell that Drake is quickly becoming irritated with my questioning. Using a clearly strained tone, he tells me, "Look, I've been trying to find someone worthy enough to give this to for a long time now. And I really can't bring myself to sell it. So, I've decided to give it to you."

"Why?" I pressed him more. I wasn't sure that that reasoning was legitimate, but I could tell that he certainly wanted to give this treasure away.

I can feel his irritated emotion like an aura in the air at this point. Impressively, he keeps his attitude mostly under control as he explains to me, "You are extremely intelligent, you have proven that to me by finding multiple holes and shortcuts in my routine. No one else has ever managed to stump me that many times in so many ways in a single match. You're still young, as well, so you'll certainly be able to hold onto it for a while."

"…Okay. I feel that I can accept that," I tell him, convinced of his legitimacy. "Much thanks to you, Drake. I'll be sure to keep it safe for years to come."

He heaves a relieved sigh and hands the necklace to me. I fumble with it a bit before I put it on as he mutters something about kids being difficult under his breath.

Drake shakes his head and puts on a smile as he looks back at me and says, "Well, I shall say farewell now. Hopefully, we shall meet again sometime."

"Perhaps," I respond in turn. "Goodbye, Drake. Have a good evening."

Kaylub, Terry and I proceed to turn around and begin heading for our bus stop, with them questioning me on why I hadn't taken the necklace straightaway. As I begin explaining my reasoning throughout the matter, I heard something impossibly familiar.

Very faintly, as if a couple dozens of feet away, I hear that all-too-familiar chuckle.

I quickly whip around, and looking practically frantically, but I could only see the people leaving the building.

"What's up?" Terry asks me, likely concerned as to my sudden action.

"…Just… thought I heard… something," I half-said, half-muttered.

"Well, we'll be going now. I see your bus coming, too," Kaylub says, bringing me back to reality. "See ya."

"Yeah…" I mumble in response. The two of them walk away as the bus pulls up beside me.

As I boarded the bus moments later, something struck me.

Drake was nowhere in sight when I had turned around.

However, I shake off the feeling and rationalize my thoughts. He could've just gotten in his car. Or went back in the building.

On the bus ride back, I did not play any of my games. I just closed my eyes and relaxed, trying not to dwell on the whole matter. I just needed to clear my mind.

"...History needs some changing."

"Agreed. Shall we get started?"

After disembarking from the bus, I set my path towards home, which is about a mile's walk. An easy trek for me. As I walked this mile, however, I eventually find my thoughts trailing back to the necklace that Drake had gifted me. I honestly still find it absolutely astounding and unbelievable that some random stranger I'd only just met and faced at a tournament, and even lost to, had given me such a priceless item.

Taking hold of it in my left hand, I look down at the necklace, taking in its minute intricate details. The gem itself is indeed a beautiful amethyst of dark purple gleaming up at me. With how its casing felt, I determined that it was almost certainly real gold. I assume that the blue chain was just dyed metal, but with a second, closer glance, as well as another run-over with my finger, these chain links could very well be finely-carved sapphire! That's… how?!

As I look closer at the amethyst, I run my thumb over it, and notice something I hadn't before. Peering closer at the amethyst, I realized two things. For one, something has been engraved on the jewel. As I felt it over, I determined that it was not a word nor a letter. After studying it longer with my finger, I determined that it couldn't be hiragana, hanzi, katakana, or kanji, either. The grooves didn't have the right feel for any of them. So, through that, I eliminated the chance of it being hanja, romaja, hangul, or chữ nom. I carefully went through other types of scripture, eliminating all the ones it couldn't be. I went along to determine that it couldn't be any character from the Thai, Arabian, Greek, Hebrew, Georgian, Persian, Ge'ez, Bengali, Gujarati, Telugu, Devanagari, Gallifreyan, Kannarese, Cambodian, Laotian, Burmese Myanmar, Gurmukhi, Sinhalese, Tamil, or Malayalam written languages, all of which I knew very well due to years of nerdy studying of foreign written languages.

The best conclusion that I can come up with was that it must be some kind of 'rune'. That was the only possibility I can logically come up with, because I doubt that I was given something with a family crest or character engraved onto it.

The second thing I've noticed is that there appears to be something inside of the amethyst, just beyond the 'rune'. As I squint to look at it, I begin to get a headache, likely from trying to see something so small inside such a dark encasement. Eventually, I make it out to be a little ball-like object that apparently glows dimly, its light dulled further by the dark jewel.

I find myself analyzing every bit of the jewelry as I walk, my pace greatly slowed now. When I return to looking at the ball, I trace my thumb over the strange rune with my finger, trying to make out its shape in my head.

That was when my day reached its peak of abnormalities.

I watched as the little ball inside the jewel suddenly began to lose its shape and glow a bit brighter, squirming around and flowing like a liquid in place. At first, I'd thought I had been seeing things, so I let go of the necklace, letting it fall against my chest, and rubbed my eyes. From where it lay on my chest, I look down at the amethyst.

It was not glowing.

That… was pretty damn weird… I think to myself, unnerved by that trick of my eyes. Blinking a few times, I continue walking as I think about what it was that I just 'saw.'

It was when I was approximately a quarter-mile away from home when it happened.

After a long time spent pondering the previous events, I pick the jewel up again to look at it again, only to be blinded. Regaining my vision a moment later, I stare in awe as I see that the entire jewel has brightly lit up, glowing a brilliant yellow that brightens the purple color of the jewel, and even escapes out of some of its facets. I stare at this glowing amethyst, dumbfounded for a few seconds, and suddenly drop it again, very confused and somewhat panicked by the inexplicable event.

As soon as the necklace hits my chest, I feel this strange wave of numbness wash over my entire body. Suddenly, I find that I can't feel my arms, or most of my upper body for that matter. Horrifyingly, I can feel my loss of feeling slowly spreading.

Terrified by this sudden effect, I begin running as fast as I can to reach home. I'm not completely sure why, I just feel like I'll be safe there. As I start running, the necklace bumps against my chest again, as I hadn't thought to take it off after all this happening. But when it hits my chest this time, a whole new wave goes over me, and I quickly lose the feeling of everything. My legs, my feet, my head, even my tongue; I can no longer feel any damn thing. And this time, the numb feeling is accompanied by a very persuasive drowsiness. Expectedly, I trip.

There's the faint sensation of falling for a moment, by my eyelids are so heavy I can barely see out from under their half-closed state. I can barely register the pain caused by my left temple colliding with the pavement, the collision likely aiding my descent into unconsciousness.

Just before I fell into complete darkness, however, I could feel hot, immense pain that took place all over my body. Just before I blacked out from the pain, however, I was able to just barely catch a flash of green and brown coming towards me.

So, here it is. Chapter One of my first story. I accept any and all criticism, as I consider myself to be an aspiring writer. I hope you've enjoyed this beginning, even if it might have seemed a bit cliché. See you next chapter, perhaps?

}EDIT: Rewrote most of the chapter.

}}EDIT2: New editor The Max Revive here, and I looked back throughout this chapter alongside SixSouls. In this second rewrite, we took the story's body word count (this excludes the author's notes) from 4,168 to 6,666. Holy hell, eh?