For a brief moment, I sat paralyzed in the chair. There were times when seeing my own creation come to life was a thought that brought me excitement and joy. When I was younger, I was always dreaming about joining the heroes in the books and comics and going on amazing adventures in worlds far wilder than my own. But now things were different. As I was sitting in a room illuminated only by the dancing flame of a single large candle on the dining table, surrounded by darkness that would kill you if it touched you, and with a person whose brain I messed up on purpose during his creation, I was more scared than ever.

I tried to stand up, but when I made the slightest movement, vines sprung out of the ground and wrapped themselves around me, digging their sharp thorns into my body.

"Don't even try Eddie. You know my plant magic can't be defeated by strength alone." Vincent was standing above me. He looked much more menacing than I ever envisioned him to be.

"Chester, listen," I called him by his last name since I knew how much he hated being called Vincent. "I know you are not like this. Why would you even want to kill me? What would get from this? You would just be alone again. Isn't it much better to have company around?"

He grinned at me and then turned towards his little kitchen desk without a word. Only after he started pulling out herbs and bottles did his mouth open again. "Do you know what my life was like? What my parents were like?"

"I... yeah, I remember. They were not the nicest."

"They were toxic. Their absence of love and abundance of hate turned me into their exact copy. I wanted someone to control. That is why I became the so-called villain. But then I lost. Defeated by a bunch of heroes and their magical sword. Which, by the way, was such a shitty plot, now that I think about it. But once it was all done, my life was spared. They let me go and wander the world, thinking about what I had done. And I did do a lot of thinking. I realized what I did wrong and tried to make amends. But then, imagine my surprise when I woke up one morning and found out that somebody wrote those lines into my life. I wasn't a villain. Someone made me that way. I have nothing to feel guilty about. Those people I killed? That was not me. That was you. You alone, Eddie."

"I didn't know any of this could be real. I just... If I knew."

"But you didn't. And that makes you what? Innocent?"

"Well... Look, you won't become a better person by killing me. Quite the opposite. You will only be that much more of a villain!"

"And you think I don't know that? But tell me, have you ever wondered how many lives you have ruined like this? Every person in this world now knows that there was a God writing our stories this whole time. Everyone who has ever suffered any greater misfortune now wields a weapon aimed right at your head."

"So, wait, what you're saying is that you are keeping me safe here?"

"Oh god no. You see, one way or another, you will die tonight. But not because of revenge. Rather, in order to save the world."

"What are you talking about? How would my death save anything?" I tried my best to wiggle out of the vines, but with no luck.

"It's quite simple, really. Do you remember the fire you started before you died?"

"Yeah?"

"That fire is much more than just some poetic image of you leaving your past behind. It is literally the end of the world. As those pages burn, all of your worlds do so too. Every second, they merge, crash into one another, and the terrible heat leaves behind nothing but scorched earth. People are dying because of you, Eddie. But there is a way to stop it."

"My death?"

"Yes. Sort of. You see, when a God or the Creator enters their own creation, several events happen. Firstly, we, the created, are granted the knowledge about our creator. And secondly, the Creator is granted power over their world. It is called Divine Creativity and you can imagine that as the pen used to write reality."

"And if I die, that power is given to the killer, am I right?"

"Ah, quite quick to catch on. I am impressed."

"Well, it's kinda like a plot of a story. Sort of predictable. So you want to kill me to rewrite the reality, correct?"

"Yes and no. There is the whole complication with your death. You see, since you came here when you were already deceased, your power fragmented itself and sort of... fell off. Now people all over your worlds are hunting fragments of it that got scattered around. But you still hold the biggest one. If I kill you, I will obtain it. And even when incomplete, the power can make someone exceptionally strong."

"So you are a villain. You wish to kill me to remake the world in your image."

"Not in my image. In a better image."

"Let me guess. Is your version of the world without suffering and pain and with you sitting on the heavenly throne?"

"Oh, not at all. I am not that stupid. I know that suffering is an essential part of life, but in its raw form, it is simply not fair. I will create a world where one day, people are lucky, and on the other, they are surrounded by misfortune. But, they will be in full control. Need a full week of luck? Well, you can just choose to suffer seven bad days and save it up. Also, no surprising deaths. People will be given exactly one hundred years to live and will be able to tell how much each of their actions shortens their lifespan. Much easier to control addiction to alcohol and smoking when you actually see your life dripping away. It is the most perfect version of the world that can exist."

Chester finished mixing whatever potion he was making. He poured a small portion of it into a wooden mug and then brought it to the table. The moment it slid over to my side, the vines around me let go.

"I am granting you mercy, Eddie. You can't take care of this world and almost everyone wants your head. And there are many people out there who wish to create much more terrible worlds. For example this Ifrit guy? He has like a whole cult that wants to turn everything into one big glorious empire under his rule. Compared to that, my idea is way better. Plus, I am offering you an easy way out," he nodded towards the mug.

"What is that?"

"A poison. Mixed perfectly for you. Drink it, fall asleep, and never wake up again. No pain, no suffering, just peaceful death. You will not get a better deal than that. You can either struggle and fight against me, or you can accept my mercy. It will not end any other way."

I finally knew why I came here. It was meant to be hell. Not heaven or reincarnation, but my own personal hell. I had to summon all of my strength to push back the urge to cry. Everything I wrote was real. All those murders and tragic deaths were on my hands. There was no noble sacrifice because nobody had ever done it out of their own free will. If I was to be honest, I had to admit that my death would've been at least some form of atonement.

"That is... really a reasonable offer." I reached over for the mug of poison. "Your version of the world makes a certain sense and frankly, your thinking is very sympathetic."

"Thank you. Well, do you wish to have any last words?"

"No. Because I don't want to give the power to you. Looking back at all the suffering in my books, I would even say that I deserve to die. But I also know you. There is no guarantee that the power wouldn't corrupt you. That is something I can't risk. If somebody deserves to kill me, it's the heroes, not you."

"Oh yeah? And how do you propose you wish to reach those heroes?" he leaned over the table and smirked.

"I don't know. But I guess I'll take it one step at a time."

I gave him a smile worthy of an anti-hero and blew out the candle sitting on the table. Darkness enveloped us almost immediately.

"NO!" I heard him shout.

I knew what he'd do. He panicked, let go of the magic that was binding me to the chair, and quickly conjured some light. Once that happened and we could both see once again, I didn't give him any time to think. By jumping on the table, I avoided getting caught easily by his thorn magic. He was obviously still in a shock and so to daze him even more, I gave him a direct kick in the face. Can't blame him for being so dazed. If he was a second too late with the light spell, we'd both be torn to pieces.

Before he had time to regain his senses, I rushed downstairs into the cellar. If there was one place where I had even some remote chance of survival, it was down there. Outside would spell certain death and the attic was too packed with all sorts of boxes and sacks.

I knew it wouldn't take him too long to get back up and go after me. The basement had some movement-detecting runes, which operated the lighting in there. It was strange. Even though I'd never been down there, it was as if I knew I'd be safe there. Like this really strong hunch telling me where to go.

I looked around for anything that would help me. The entire room felt so much different than the house on the surface. It was bigger, the walls were made of stone bricks, and tiny blue flames were protecting it from the claws hiding in the dark. There was a large rune circle in the middle of the room, surrounded by several pedestals. Apparently, he was preparing some kind of ritual before I came. What caught my attention a lot more, however, were the bookshelves, which instead of books, were holding many magical artifacts. Nothing impressive, only the most common objects of everyday practical usefulness that would make life just a little more comfortable. But I was looking even for a simple tool. Fire would've helped greatly against the plant magic, or even something sharp to cut with. Anything better than that would just be a welcome bonus.

Bingo! A magical crystal ball was sitting on one of the shelves. It was something like a monitor. One could use it to access the view of Watcher Eyes, which were a basic monster that was easy to summon. I didn't want it for that purpose though. There was another, different use to this piece of magical equipment.

Just as I heard the thorn mage opening the door to the basement, I threw the ball at him. It hit the stone bricks above the doorway and the dust that was inside flew out into the open. It startled Vincent quite a bit.

"You..." *Achoo!* "Stop breaking my stuff!" Before I could do anything else, the vines grabbed me once again. Thanks to the adrenaline in my veins, I didn't even feel any of the thorns this time. As I fell to the ground and got dragged closer, I desperately tried to hold on to the ritual pedestals.

"Chester, wait! Please!"

"What? You think I'm just going to let you live? After everything you've done?" I felt the vines getting tighter and tighter.

"When I first saw you in that forest, I had to push back all my anger and resentment. I forced myself to offer a helping hand to you! A quick and painless way out. But you spat on it. You made me go through shit. My life was ruined by your writing. Imagine was it feels like when you find out that you had everything taken from you, just so that some god could use you as the bad guy! So now, I am no longer going to be merciful. I will enjoy this."

"I'm sorry. If I knew... you were real... I would've..." I tried my best to push words out of my throat, by under the crushing grip of the vines, it was getting hard to breathe, let alone speak.

"Yeah, right. Well, guess what, right now, it's... hrm... it's too late! At least you can see this as... blrgr... as your... hrmph... punishment... argh..." Chester fell to the ground coughing out blood. The vines around me disappeared back into the ground and I was finally able to take a proper deep breath again.

"What... hrrrmp... have you done... mrrp... to me?!" The sounds coming out of him were truly scary. As if there was something else inside him that was just about to crawl out. I kneeled down beside him and put my hand on his shoulder.

"You're allergic to the crystal dust. It's a common condition, never mentioned in the books, but I designed you with it. I didn't throw the crystal ball at you, I threw it at the wall to make you breathe in the dust that was inside it. To be honest, I didn't know if it would work, but it's great to see that even things written down in my original notes are true in this world.

"You're gonna... ughhh..." At that point, Chester lost consciousness. I knew that the allergy is lethal. Leaving him to die would've been easy and convenient, but he was still my creation. I couldn't watch him just die like that. And luckily for him, I knew exactly how to create an antidote. Being the "god" sure paid off in situations like these.

When it came to medicine, this world had a simple rule, born mostly because of my laziness to create anything more complex. To treat any form of poisoning or allergic reaction, one had to collect the blood of a victim, the substance that caused the reaction, and the blood of someone immune to it. I had everything except for the final ingredient. Although I could've tried to use my own blood, there was a chance that I'd also be allergic, which would most definitely seal Chester's fate. Testing out my own reaction to the substance was dangerous with these limited resources, and I wasn't simply going to risk it.

But there was a creature nearby that was surely immune to the crystal dust. In fact, there were dozens of them swarming around the house-

the Darkness. Capturing such a being and taking its blood, however, was a terrifying thought. Weapons didn't work because they were too fast. By the time anyone could swing at them or light a torch, they were already gone or done with the kill. Not to mention that their supernatural abilities allowed them to pass through any solid matter that had darkness on the other side. But fortunately, I never created a creature without a weakness.

I limped my way upstairs and grabbed a bowl and a knife from the kitchen. Getting some blood from Vincent was easy. Even if he was still slightly conscious, he couldn't resist in any way. I scooped up as much as was necessary into the bowl and then turned my attention to the next ingredient - the dust. Using a shirt pulled over my mouth and nose as protection, I carefully collected some of it and mixed it with the blood. Then came the time for the most difficult part.

One mistake and I'd be dead. The only thing giving me confidence was the fact that Darkness kills instantly and almost painlessly, as long as you don't try to fight them. I grabbed two candles and lit them with the matches I got from Chester. I placed one on the table in the dining room and took the other one with me. The main door leading outside the house creacked as I opened it, making it all far scarier. Looking into the black void outside was terrifying. Like walking towards death accompanied by a gentle cold breeze.

I slowly stepped outside, heading into the darkness. I went far enough to almost lose sight of the house. The only thing protecting me was the little candle in my hand. I could hear something moving around me. They were everywhere, waiting for the light to go out so that they could feast on me.

"Alright... here we go." I sat down on the grass and took a deep breath.

"Twinkle, twinkle, little star

How I wonder what you are.

Up above the world so high

Like a diamond in the sky

Twinkle, twinkle, little star

How I wonder what you are."

After the last word of the lullaby, I blew on the candle. My shoulders instinctively went up as I cringed, awaiting my demise. Darkness was everywhere, and yet, I was pretty much sure I was still alive. Not willing to waste any minute, I grabbed the matchbox from my pocket and lit the candle again. The light illuminated a small circle around me, and there they were. Everywhere, sleeping like babies. Their shapes varied from one to the other, but they all resembled some kind of a wild creature. Whether it was a cat, bear, or a deer, that didn't matter. All I needed was a little bit of their blood.

Hesitant, I pulled out the knife I grabbed in the kitchen and very gently poked one of the creatures with it. Its black blood slowly started to flow out like a tiny string of liquid. It wasn't painful enough to wake it up, fortunately for me.

The Darkness was formidable, but in reality, they were just lost creatures who couldn't find food anywhere else. They could only eat human meat, but humans were constantly protecting themselves with light. The Darkness were starving, dying, and being reborn. And to top it all off, they never slept, always traveling with the night all over the globe. Those creatures weren't killers or monsters. They were the tortured ones. That's why they couldn't resist a lullaby. Any lullaby. "Sing them to sleep, and even the dark will become your ally." That was how it stood in my book.

Once I had enough, I headed straight back into the house, carefully shuffling my feet to make sure I wouldn't trip over anything or anyone. The pain in my leg was once again taking its toll on me. I could feel that whatever Chester managed to heal with his magic, I undid by running around and trying to save him. But my pain compared to someone else's life? I'd say the choice was obvious.

Once back inside, safe and sound, I finished mixing the antidote. My heart was still beating like a roaring engine, but I had no time to rest. The moment the remedy seemed properly mixed, I poured it down Vincent's throat. There was, however, one big unknown variable waiting to be resolved. Can the blood of the Darkness be used as a valid ingredient? Even though I didn't know the answer, it was the best option I had. After all, it wasn't meant to be evil or toxic in any way, only different. The characters in my story used a snake's blood for a similar potion before, so I simply hoped that the Darkness wouldn't be too different from any other animal.

It would take some time before Vincent would wake up, should the potion work. That gave me enough time to work things out. With clenched teeth and throbbing pain in my leg, I dragged him upstairs, lifted him up onto the chair in the dining room, and tied him up with a rope I found upstairs in the attic. Along with that, I noticed some old leather gloves sitting in the corner on top of a bag with preserved food. Those immediately reminded me of another weakness that mages like Vincent shared. Since his magic was connected to plants and the earth, to cast spells, his feet had to be touching the ground, and every wizard had to keep their hands bare to control the magical power produced by incantations. Because of that, the gloves worked perfectly as a restraint, and just for good measure, I tied Vincent's legs to the other chair, further restraining his magical abilities.

Once everything was done, I turned my attention to the herbs in his kitchen. One thing was clear - there was no way I'd make it to the nearest city in my current condition. I had to do something about my injured leg, or I wouldn't get far.

"Leaves of Rispea, Bloodtouched roots... what were the other ingredients?" I mumbled to myself as I spent a solid half an hour trying to remember how to create at least a weak healing potion. I was almost done when a creaking of the floorboards and quiet groaning forced me to turn my attention elsewhere.

"Good morning, Vincent," I spoke to him to see if he'd be aware of his surroundings. Judging by the veins popping out on his forehead the moment he saw me, I assumed he was conscious enough. "I know you are really pissed, but you better listen to me before you try something stupid," I told him and turned my attention back toward the potion. "I am not done with you yet. There is still more I will need from you. And you are going to help me."