I was a reader…
So I read.
Page after page, word after word—
But the more I read,
the more it dawned on me, a question,
A question so tangled, that the more I tried to solve it, the more I lost myself.
I searched for answers, pored over countless books, only to find more questions waiting for me.
'I tried, I truly did, but no answer came.'
So I ask you—
Can you answer the question? The question that permanently resided in my head.
'If an author created the world with words, but it came alive only in the reader's mind, who truly owned the story– the one who wrote it, or the one who believed in it?'
...I rambled a lot, didn't I?
But what else was there to do in this endless, pitch-black abyss? There was no signal, no food, and I'm 90% sure existential monologues were the only currency here.
'Where was I?'
I had no clue.
I'd been floating aimlessly in this murky place, where the flow of time seemed to have stopped. I felt no sensation. It was as if I existed... but didn't exist at the same time.
The last thing I remember before getting here was...
'I don't, I don't remember a thing.'
I tried my best to recollect my memory, but it just made it hazier. I remembered the life I lived, but it all felt so distant.
The harder I tried to grasp my past, the further it slipped, like a life lived in someone else's dream.
'How weird.'
A thought popped up in my head uninvited.
ZAP!
Before I could think further, blinding light engulfed the darkness, making me squint and cover my eyes.
When the lights faded, a new scene unfolded before my eyes.
A boundless white stretched in every direction. It looked pristine, perfect, and unreal. There was no sky above, no earth below, only endless light without source, wherever I looked.
Silence reigned, not peaceful, but absolute— louder than any scream.
SKREECH!
But soon, the silence broke. A screeching sound, like glass grinding against steel, tore through the silence. I turned my head around, searching for the source, but I could find none.
I tried to look further, and a small crack was finally visible to my eyes.
'What is that?'
I wondered. The very fabric of the world seemed to be tearing apart, making wriggling noises. With each passing second, the tear seemed to get bigger.
It looked like the world was trying to resist it, but wasn't able to. Soon, the tear split open, and someone entered the white-world. Not one, but two.
A man and a woman.
The man stood tall and walked forward with eyes brimming with determination. His all-black outfit reminded me of the dark night, while his flowing white overcoat shimmered like the moonlight cutting through a starless sky.
The woman, on the other hand, was his complete opposite. She wore white beneath a jet-black overcoat that fluttered with every step. The fluttering of her small black hairs seemed to symbolize the flow of time itself.
Tap! Tap!
Every step that they took resonated with the world, rippling through the white-world like waves through water. The world seemed to bend beneath their resolve.
And me?
Still stuck.
'They felt familiar... especially the man,'
That was the only thought that came into my mind. I felt a connection I never felt before.
Who was he, and where was I?
'Maybe I could ask him, maybe he had answers,'
I stretched my legs, trying to reach towards him, but I couldn't.
They walked past me, like I wasn't even there. Which was fair.
Lately, I, myself, was beginning to doubt whether I was here or not.
Then, the woman stopped. Her voice cut through the silence, sharp and venomous.
"We are here, stop hiding and come out, you damn bastard,"
'What?'
'Was she talking to me?'
No. Definitely, not. I hadn't done anything bastard-worthy. At least not today.
Looks like my guess was correct. Something in the white-world seemed to be changing. The light started to condense rapidly, pulling itself together like storm clouds gathering into a singular point.
SHWAAA!
Something was forming— something wrong. The dense energy started to take the shape of a humanoid. Just watching it take form sent a shiver down my spine.
Whatever it was, it didn't feel humane.
Legs formed. Then the torso. Then arms and finally, a head.
It stood at the center of the world, blank and pale like a mannequin. Seeing the two individuals, his expression twisted into a grin, yet there was nothing behind it— no features, no soul. Just a white canvas pretending to be human.
"Khukhu, I see, You have arrived,"
He spoke, forming a mouth out of thin air. The sound of his voice twisted something in my gut. My heart pounded, and every hair on the back of my hand stood on edge.
'Bzzz,'
My head started to ring with a sharp buzzing sound, making me feel dizzy.
While I was busy figuring out my condition, the white figure slowly turned his head towards me. His lips curled up, and a sinister smile appeared on his face.
"You have arrived as well?"
Even though he had no eyes, I felt his gaze piercing through me, stripping me bare. I felt seen in a way I never wanted to be. It all felt so unreal.
"Hmm,"
He seemed to be wondering about something. But the two at the back didn't seem to humor his thoughts.
They lunged at him without any hesitation, only to be stopped by a swift movement of his hand. He stopped them mid-air, effortlessly, with a look of disinterest. To him, they weren't even a threat. Just insects crawling around his feet.
Then he spoke again.
"It's not your time yet."
But this time, the words weren't meant for them.
They were for me.
I could feel his oppressive pressure on me as he spoke those words. His presence wrapped around me like chains.
Tap! Tap!
Then he moved forward, step by step, closing the distance between me and him, until he was at an arm's distance from me.
Slowly, almost gently, he lifted his hand…
…and flicked my forehead.
Flick!
What?
I was caught off-guard and yanked backward, like a thread pulled through a needle. My surroundings blurred, and my consciousness began to fade slowly but surely.
I tried to hold on, but I couldn't.
Everything went dark.
Then, in the void, I heard it.
A voice— not male or female. Not loud or soft. It felt like everything at once. Divine and demonic. Distant and intimate. As if the universe itself was whispering directly into my ears.
It spoke:
"It started with a simple line, a whisper on the page,
But stories live, and once awake, they burn beyond the cage.
She wrote the world, she named the stars, she painted gods in flame,
Yet now she runs from all she made, from death that bears her name.
He read in silence, knowing more than any tale should show,
Until the world he loved so much refused to let him go.
Now side by side they break the verse, rewrite what once was fate,
A Reader wielding memory, an Author bound too late.
So let them fail or let them rise— what matters is the scar,
For every tale that dares to breathe must know who its gods are."
And then... nothing.
Darkness took me whole.