Blood drips onto tattered pages of a diary. The author holds tightly onto his pen. When he finished, he wrote

"

This is a new novel I'm working on to join a contest. The early works are like a neck of a bottle and is different from what it'll become. The first chapter especially is the weakest chapter. I hope you'll add this fellow writer's novel to the library and watch it advance.

If you're sick of goody heroes then a dose of dark hero or anti-hero sauce is for you.

"

The author then realised... that he wasn't the author. He was the parasite that thought he was author.