Author's Note: So I have a real weakness for a well-written crossover, and I had not seen this one anywhere. The idea jumped into my head and wouldn't let go, so I decided to give a shot at writing it myself. The well-written part, is, of course, subject to opinion, but I thought someone out there might be interested in this crossover. Just a warning, but once the already written chapters run out, I don't have any set schedule for updates. This is pretty much a just for fun, whenever-I-feel-like-writing-it story.
Future Author's Note: This mostly abandoned story has been revised and extended. See note in Chapter 5.
My name is Marco. And I have no idea where I am.
This is not particularly unprecedented, but suddenly appearing in a strange place isn't really something you get used to.
As strange places go, this one wasn't that bad. There was oxygen, a definite plus. But I was wearing a really weird white jumpsuit that I knew wasn't part of my wardrobe, and I didn't like the idea that someone had changed my clothes while I was unconscious.
Unless it was a hot girl.
The biggest problem was that I had no recollection of how I had gotten here. Not only that, but I couldn't really remember what I was doing before I had gotten here. Everything was kinda hazy.
You probably know by now that I'm not going to tell you my last name or where I live. For those that don't, let's just say I have my reasons, and leave it at that for now. The weird part was, I wouldn't be able to tell you even if I wanted to. For some reason I couldn't remember any of those key details. And that was a little worrying.
I could remember the reasons not to, though, and that thought was at the forefront of my mind as I looked around the weird blue room. There was a heavy white door on one wall, but other than that the walls were seamless, and the room was bare except for a heavy metal table in the middle. It looked disconcertingly like an operating table. I didn't know where I was, but I knew one thing for sure. I was a prisoner.