My steps were slow, it was as if the very will to walk had been taken from me, nobody really forced me to do so yet I walked behind an annoying silhouette of the same childhood friend who now is my room mate.
The rain stopped half an hour ago and I for some reason followed him to his usual basketball ground or god knows what you call it a pitch?
Lately nothing actually seem to amuse me.. most it's doom scrolling, sometimes just watching fantasy animes or reading novels.
I started to pounder again about my pattern yet oddly though.. doesn't this really feel..
My eyes widened slightly as I gasped in awe, the sun setting and the sky is full of clouds everything is orange yet a side remains grey,small puddles of watter after rain reflecting all of it making all of it surreal.
"No beauty can compare to this..", I mumbled.
"What are you on about it's time
you should touch grass look that bitch is looking at you!"
"Who?",I blinked twice as I looked at that bastrad who sniggerd,"You!!".
I waved of my friend as he entered his basketball dog cage or whatever..I somehow doesn't feel low for rather I'll force myself not to cause stress causes hairloss.
I played some music and after some laps of it, finally sat on a stone brick wall, cross legged as I looked at the sky.. wondering.
The sun disappeared and I still stared at it, I sighed and finally made a decision as my blank eyes finally looked at the screen of my phone.
It's my novel..
CHAPTER 1 : Tears Of A Demon
"Tell me… do you know?.. how it feels to be…"
Visha Sura's seven eyes showed a hint of uncertainty. His gaze fell from the starry sky to a lake of black blood, upon which he saw his own reflection alongside the three ancient moons.
Corpses of Demons and Deities littered the entirety of the Arawata Mountain, a testament to a war that had lasted millennia.
Visha Sura's chest bore a gaping hole — his bones and lungs laid bare, the very source of the bloody lake beneath him. Yet the sensation of pain was insignificant to one who had endured countless vicissitudes of life.
"Lord Sathanama! This old Fiend is about to be killed! Haha… he… he truly is about to meet his end! Right!?"
Amidst a lake of dark blood lay a hundred-foot giant, his body comparable to a small mountain from afar. His dark horns dared to brush the skies themselves, and his long hair — white as snow — rustled everywhere, covering a diameter of a hundred li.
"Neither your twelve arms nor your vicious fangs can save you, oh demon! You dared to disturb the order of the Divine, and now you shall be remembered as a precedent for all who defy righteousness."
Sathanama spoke in a resolute tone. He stood illuminated in golden light — a young man of around nine feet, his waist-length hair like threads of gold, his eyes like stars.
"…"
Visha Sura's giant head tilted in his direction and a terrifying smile appeared on his face.
"Hahaha! Hahaha!"
His laughter resounded like the roar of lightning over the entirety of the Arawata Mountain.
Visha Sura's eyes once again regained clarity as he took in his predicament with vivid awareness.
"Treacherous… truly treacherous is your whole blood line. And lad, you finally deceived me?
Good!
Good!
Even if the mortals sing your name for eternity and worship you as a saviour… you know, you know, scoundrel."
Visha Sura's eyes twitched. He moved his closed fist closer to his seven eyes — from within it, he glimpsed the broken corpse of a young mortal girl.
Sathanama sniggered at Visha Sura's remark as his entire body began to illuminate further in golden radiance, transforming into a gargantuan form.
Lightning started to pulse as the starry sky was swallowed by dark clouds, hiding the cosmos under a veil.
Visha Sura countinued to laugh as he stood up, blood continued to gush out from the hole in his chest yet his foot remained unshaken.
"Haha! You think that would be enough to kill me!?", Visha Sura countinued to laugh looking at the Lighting Giant," You! You can't!"
"HOW!? HOW? HOW?..How is this Feind Still Alive!?"
My fingers typed and typed, and my head Started to feel dizzy, I finally get clarity and something absurd happen.
I saw...I saw..
A Hole?
My chest had a hole as blood gushed out of it.
ROAR!!
My throat roared in a sound which is simply inhuman..
The roar echoed through the mountain range, vibrating in the very marrow of bones that shouldn't exist.
Visha Sura—no, I—felt the cold air rush through the gaping cavity in my chest. It wasn't a phantom sensation. The wind whistled through ribs, and the warmth of blood pooling against my skin was sickeningly real.
The smell was the worst part: copper, ozone, and the stench of rotting divine flesh.
"Impossible..."
The voice that came from my throat was deep, resonant, and carried a weight that made the ground tremble. It wasn't my voice. It was a voice written by imagination.
"This is What is going on!!??", I screamed once again.
The words tore from my mouth, but they didn't sound like my voice. They sounded like grinding stones, like thunder caught in a throat of iron.
The golden giant above me froze. His eyes, those star-bright eyes like I had described in Chapter 1, widened with a mixture of fury and genuine confusion. He lowered his massive, glowing arms, the lightning pulsing erratically around his form.
"What is going on?" Sathanama repeated, his voice booming with divine authority that made your my teeth ache. "You dare question the judgment of the Heavens? You, a blight upon existence, stand there bleeding out and ask what is happening?"
He took a step forward. The ground beneath his feet cracked, golden energy bleeding into the fissures.
"You are dying, Visha Sura. That is what is happening."
But something was wrong. The dialogue was shifting.
How can this be possible?, I merely started to write on a wimp?..I don't know anything how will story end or what is this story that am I even writing??
My mind spiralling, a grim feeling clawing my very heart.
Me?
Vishasura?
What is going to happen now? how would I know? this story I just started it? now it's not the story anymore!!
I looked at the hole in my chest from which blood gushed like a waterfall, yet there was pain but somehow I tolerated as if I'm use to such dire wounds..come to think of it I wrote it myself..didn't I.
The blood was hot. That was the thing that hit me with the most violence—the heat of it, steaming slightly in the mountain air, soaking into the dark fabric of my armor. It wasn't a description anymore. It was a sensation.
Sathanama's golden form loomed closer, his expression hardening into something colder than I intended when I typed those words.
"Your silence is an admission of guilt," he declared, raising a hand. Golden light gathered between his fingers, condensing into a spear of pure radiance. "The era of demons ends tonight. Arawata shall be cleansed."
He lunged.
The spear moved with a speed that defied physics, a streak of blinding light aimed directly at my throat.
In that split second, something happened.My body moved before your mind could process it. One of my seven eyes—the one on the far left—blinked rapidly, and suddenly, the world slowed.
"Heavens will laugh at me and I'll laugh back at the heavens for that is the nature of the demon."I roared without any thought."You! You ! Scoundrel you think you can?"
I felt a feeling of death getting closer and closer to me I know I cannot doge, I know I'm doomed and now I'm going to die.
But..to die with such a generic line? Or is it just an illusion? Somehow did someone drugged me or is it a dream?
The spear of light pierced through my neck.
There was no pain at first—just a sudden, absolute cold that raced from the wound down to my heart. The golden radiance of Sathanama's weapon burned through my flesh, cauterizing and tearing simultaneously. My vision blurred, the seven eyes struggling to focus as the world tilted.
"Die with your arrogance intact, monster," Sathanama spat, his voice echoing like a funeral bell.
I fell.
The lake of black blood rose up to meet me, and as my body hit the surface, the impact felt like being thrown against concrete. The liquid was thick, viscous, swallowing me whole.
But as the darkness pressed in—as the cold from my wound merged with the dark warmth of the lake—something shifted.
A screen flickered in the corner of your vision. Not a phone screen. Not a computer screen.
The screen was translucent, floating in the darkness of the black lake like a ghost. It didn't belong to the world of Arawata. It didn't belong to the demons or the gods.
It was familiar. Too familiar.
[SYSTEM INITIALIZING...]
[AUTHOR DETECTED]
[Syncing Narrative Soul to Host Body...]
[Current Status: Visha Sura]
[Health: 3/100 (Critical)]
[Mana: 12/500]
[Trait: 'The Unfinished Plot' - ???]
The text pulsed in a soft blue light, casting long shadows across the surface of the blood-soaked water. Below the status bar, a small prompt appeared, blinking steadily.
[Author's Note: You haven't written the ending yet. Do you wish to rewrite?]
[YES]