Warning!
I'm a wattpad author, and Im trying to transition into Webnovel - So you'll find this story on another platform.
...
Narrator's POV.
'... oh... right.'
A room was dimly lit by the screen of a laptop, his hands were bony and slender as they rested atop keys, he paused for a moment.
[Publish]
The countless glyphs on the sea of white and black, letters crafted onto words on a screen.
[I am the Demon-Like Judge of Fire... I'm so happy to finally meet you!]
His eyes stared at the last line of the sentence. The last line in this singular composite of paragraphs - A chapter.
But to him it wasn't a sentence, it wasn't a paragraph or a chapter.
It was a scene upon his mind.
So vivid. So real.
He could hear the voice of an Archangel on his mind, he could almost see her golden hair and he would swear that he felt the warmth coming from her true voice -
But he was merely staring at a screen, too late in the middle of the night to even notice it all wasn't real.
'... Right...'
He kept on affirming the same thing to himself over and over.
It was an awakening of something - A snap towards reality.
It came with a soft laugh in the quiet night, a deep breath followed by a heavy sigh.
He put his hand against the side of his head, diagonally tilting his head as he heaved his head to the publish button, wishing the chapter would upload itself.
He sighed, heaving his tired hand off his keyboard and onto the small white semi-circle with bright lights that flared with his touch. A mouse.
The cursor on the sea of white and black moved - A small arrow traveled to the black button, and so, he pressed it.
[You've Successfully Uploaded 'Chapter 27. Constellation Banquet. 3' Of 'That Time I fell in love with an Archangel In the Apocalypse - Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint Fanfiction.'!]
The long message was too familiar and so, he ignored it.
Her face and her voice begun to vanish from his mind, the banquet hall and the room of secrets was no longer in his tired brain - He sat there, empty and staring hollow into the screen.
His hair was dark and long, his eyes were draped by eyebags and heavy eyelids that struggled not to close.
He turned his gaze to the integrated clock of the laptop's navigation bar.
[04:39 AM]
'...'
He pursed his lips and desperately stared at the screen, he took a deep breath.
'... Its fine... I should sleep... I've written enough for today, I might release five chapters tomorrow - I'll wake up early.. If I skip first period class I can get enough sleep and - I'm fine with Miss Gray - She wont really question if I skip second period - I'll just tell my mom I had a free track and - That only leaves Math - Exponential decay is a simple topic - Then creative writing..'
He scoffed with a soft smile. Turning his hand passionately as he pressed a button.
[+ New Chapter.]
'Tomorrow is basically free. It doesn't matter if I ruin my sleep schedule a little bit..'
There was a smile on his tired face as his fingers stared at the white screen, it was being quickly filled by black lines over and over and over - Words were being crafted as fast as he could think.
It was as if the story had been placed in his mind by a god or some higher entity. He wanted to blame his passion - For there was no higher entity.
His desk shook at the speed of his typing, he was clacking the keys almost as if he wanted to break them - But he was simply being fast and careless. The old laptop's keys begun to creak and make strange noises as he was speeding up - The sound of his fingers repeatedly hitting them was like music to his tired ears as he read the words that came to life - Sentences formed into paragraphs.
And soon he could see it all again.
He could feel the embrace of the Archangel, he heard the praise of Gods, he heard the love of a foreign world for the most ideal version of himself that he had ever created - The main character of something as stupid as fanfiction.
He mouthed the words he wanted to hear as he wrote them.
He closed his eyes, he imagined the scent - He wrote it. The minty and sweet scent of the Archangel.
He loved this world more than anything else - Who could ever love a world at the verge of war, economic downfall, and despair? They used to say 'You are the future of this nation' but what nation are they giving to the young?
Abraham had an almost divine inspiration to keep his mind locked onto this story - A world where he could see things far greater. A world where helping someone could actually make a difference. A world where money doesn't define the way others will look at you.
[You are such a talented fellow - A special one! You know - I'm really glad I met you! I've always wanted to do it!]
The enthusiasm of the Archangel in this fictional world echoed in his mind and warmed his heart.
[Battery Low. Please Plug In-]
Abraham stared at the message from the system - But it was merely the laptop's system.
He was too tired, his bum hurt, and so he stood up and rushed around to find the charger.
But he was tired, his eyes were hazy and he could barely walk straight.
The image in his mind begun to vanish.
He took a deep breath and sat down - He rubbed his eyes and attempted to squint to get a look for the charging device - But he found soft tears falling down his cheeks.
He ignored his looming sadness and desperately dumped out a bucket of electronics onto his bed.
His breathing became shaky and his hands begun to tremble - his tears fell faster, his eyes blurred even further and his throat closed up.
He sat down and stared at the bright light of the screen in the dark room.
But he could only see white - his tears made it difficult to see the craft of words.
'...'
He wanted to cry, he felt miserable, he felt alone and desperate.
The original story stopped being enough at times to cure his boredom.
Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint.
The idea of reading being the source of someone's joy seemed ridiculous at first - until he was so miserable that he couldn't stop reading.
It was a soft drug to his pain. His mind wondered into another drug where he wasn't crushed by expectations for a hopeless world.
His mind wondered into a world where he was Kim Dokja.
But Kim Dokja's story begun to feel too real - it depressed him.
And so, he wanted to change the story - He wrote things for himself.
Until he shared countless stories out of hope that maybe he would save someone's life as she had done with Kim Dokja.
The idea of creating someone's Three ways of survival in a ruined world made him keep on writing - Until he realized he wasn't writing for anyone.
He was writing for himself.
He was his one reader.
Abraham had been burdened from birth with such a great name.
Abraham son of Terah, A father of nations.
Abraham Lincoln, A liberator of those who lay hopeless.
Abraham Moslow, a master of minds.
Yet he felt as if it was all impossible in this world.
And so, he created countless worlds in his own mind and wrote them - For the sake of fulfillment or perhaps entertainment, he didn't know.
All he knew was the familiar sadness whenever he stopped writing.
All he knew was how overjoyed he would be as he made characters happy - How overjoyed he would be as he saw their joy - It was as if he could feel it. It was nearly tangible to him. It was a feeling he could share.
And he did not mind the sadness either. Because there was always hope.
And so, Abraham kept on writing, for it was all he could ever do to remain happy.
'I'm tired... I should... sleep.'
There was a smile on his face as he saw his laptop shutting off forcefully and the room brought to absolute darkness.
He closed his eyes for a moment, struggling to find himself at ease.
He laid on his messy bed and brought his knees to his chest and arms around each other. It made him feel less lonely.
'I wish I would never wake up.'
for a moment, he could swear he had heard a voice as faint as a whisper - But he was too tired and delusional to even think of it as real.
His body relaxed and he quickly fell asleep.
But this wasn't simply a normal night - No.
This was the beginning of his own story.
The story of an author who turns himself into the protagonist.
...
Questions?
Suggestions?
First Fanfiction released on this platform! yay.