Nia’s legs felt rooted to the floor as the woman’s cold green eyes bore into her. The temperature in the room had plummeted, her breath coming out in faint, misty puffs. Her trembling fingers clutched the manuscript tightly like it was her life saver , its once innocent pages now a volatile, living thing. She glanced down again, hoping for answers or this time for different outcome hoping and prying that is it was just a nightmare, but the ink writhed chaotically, the words shifting like serpents under her gaze told her that the nightmare was real and it is here to stay.

“What do you want?” she finally managed to whisper, her voice cracked with fear.

The woman didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she tilted her head, studying Nia like she was a strange, unfamiliar specimen. When she spoke, her voice was low, chilling, and laced with something ancient something dark and threatening.

“Do you even understand what you’ve done?”

“I I didn’t do anything,” Nia stammered, stepping back. Her eyes darted to Jax, whose smirk never wavered.

You didn't “Oh, but you did,” the woman continued, taking a deliberate step forward. “Every word you’ve written has weight. Every character, every decision they all carry a piece of you. And when you abandoned them, you gave them a hunger. A need to break free.”

Nia’s head shook instinctively, her mind spinning. “This can’t be happening. It’s just a story! You’re just... just characters!”

Jax chuckled, the sound deep and mocking. “Characters? Is that all we are to you, little mouse? Puppets to dance at your whim?” His voice dropped, his smirk fading into something darker. “What about the pain? The sacrifices? You gave me a broken heart, a shattered past. Did you think I wouldn’t notice? Did you think it wouldn’t matter?”

The manuscript quivered in her hand, the energy within it almost unbearable. “I didn’t mean to hurt anyone,” Nia said, her voice cracking.

“But you did,” the woman hissed. Her shadow seemed to expand, curling around the room like smoke. “And now the cracks you’ve created are spreading like a virus. Your world, our world they’re colliding. Soon, there won’t be any difference between them.”

Before Nia could respond, a deafening crash came from the street below. The floor beneath her feet shook violently, knocking her backward. She scrambled to her knees, her heart pounding as she crawled toward the window. Peering out, her breath hitched.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

The dark, massive shape she had glimpsed earlier was now fully visible. A hulking monstrosity of twisting shadows and flickering light, it towered over the city street. Its form was indistinct, as if it couldn’t decide what it wanted to be horned and clawed one moment, slithering and serpentine the next.

Nia’s stomach turned as recognition hit her. She knew this creature. It was one of hers a villain she’d created and discarded because it had felt too cruel, too violent to belong in the story.

“Gronach,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

“It’s not just Gronach,” Jax said, now standing beside her. His eyes gleamed with a mix of malice and satisfaction. “You opened the door, little mouse. Everything you’ve ever written, everything you left unfinished—it’s all coming through .”

The woman stepped closer, her shadow wrapping around Nia like a cold embrace. “And you’re the only one who can stop it.”

Nia turned to her, clutching the manuscript like a lifeline. “How? Tell me how!”

“You can’t,” Jax interrupted. His voice was laced with mockery, but there was a flicker of something else doubt, perhaps? “The words don’t belong to you anymore. You gave them life, and now they’re alive. You can’t just snuff them out.”

Nia’s gaze darted between the two of them, desperation clawing at her chest. “But there has to be a way. I this isn’t how it’s supposed to end!” I can do something anything to change it right?

The woman tilted her head again, her green eyes narrowing. “Endings are tricky things, writer. You should know that better than anyone. They never come easily.”

Another crash shook the building, the sound of splintering wood and shattering glass echoing through the apartment. The air grew heavier, darker, and Nia felt her chest constricting.

“Then I’ll rewrite it,” she said suddenly, her voice trembling but resolute. She turned to the desk, grabbing a pen with shaking hands. “I’ll write a new ending. One where—”

The pen snapped in half leaving the trail of blue ink onto her hands.

Jax was standing over her now, his smirk returning, sharper than ever. He leaned in close, his voice a low, dangerous whisper. “You still don’t get it, do you? You’re not the writer anymore, Nia. You’re a player. Just like us. And you have to play”

The room seemed to tilt, and Nia stumbled back, her pulse racing. The manuscript burned in her hands, the pages flipping wildly as though caught in a violent storm. She tried to hold on to it, but the energy was too much. With a final, blinding flash of light, the book exploded into a shower of sparks, leaving her hands empty and her hopes of solving the problems also burt along with the script.

When the light faded, Jax and the woman were gone leaving the trail of dread behind.

But the monster outside roared, its shadow falling over her apartment as it tore through the city like a storm.

Nia dropped to her knees, staring at the empty space where the manuscript had been. Her breath came in ragged gasps as the realization hit her like a tidal wave.

The story wasn’t hers anymore to control ,she cannot rewrite it anymore she just have to play along like other characters

And now, she was at its mercy.