AN: I have no damn clue how bored I must've been to make this but damn...... I was bored as shit It was a warzone. Blood, smoke, and bodies. The rubble of buildings permeated the ground. Amidst it all was a single 5 man squad. They tightly clenched their weapons but fear was visible in their eyes. The fear only became more prominent when a shake of the ground appeared. The leader clenched his teeth and looked towards his fellow comrades. They all had families. He himself was a husband and had children of his own. How had things gone so wrong? The plan should have proceeded smoothly. Another rumble resounded and he looked towards his weapon. He supposed it was time for him to meet his maker. “Men, we came here as the final defense against them. We have failed, and humanity is coming to an end. Our families will die, but right now, none of that matters. We have nothing left to lose,, so let’s give them sonsabitches a fight!” He raised his hands up in the air and the other soldiers followed his actions. It was a horrible speech and they all knew that, but it was filled with truth and they followed. Their fear was replaced with passion and fighting spirit. It was as if the group underwent some kind of qualitative change at that moment. With a warcry, the leader stood and started charging the enemies. Sounds of gunfire and explosions filled the area with dread as the entire squad worked to take out the entity. But alas, nothing they did worked. There was no damage. There was no hope. After another minute or so, the sounds of fighting had long since ceased. The only remaining squad member was paralysed with fear as a claw wrapped around his form. He shivered and tears threatened to spill out of his eyes. He reached up to his chest and grasped the pin of his grenade. Just before the claw crushed him, he pulled the pin off his grenade and the final explosion calmed the field. Unfortunately, the claw took no damage. In fact, it was as if it hasn’t even noticed it. It chucked the piece of mangled flesh into it’s mouth and continued clattering along. There truly was very limited ways to kill them. Thankfully, the war this time had garnered enough time for the rest of the populace to escape from their stronghold. Leaving behind giant, indestructible crabs with a penchant for flesh. How could they have known though, that there weren’t any strongholds left. All that was left were hordes of humanity’s bane. They were attacked, and they were killed. The extinction of the human race had happened. There were no survivors. ___________________ Somewhere “That was interesting.” He spoke the words of an outsider. An observer, one that saw the conflict but did nothing to stop it. “You shouldn’t do that Helst, you know it’s inhumane.” A tinge of laughter was incorporated within the voice as it spoke out. Yes, they had created this world. They had nurtured it from it’s birth until now. They were gods. Once humanity had gotten past a point, they stopped their assistance. Once they got bored, they incited a calamity. Humanity was their favorite plaything. Humanity was nothing more than a form of entertainment in their eyes. They were sated this time, but in the future they may be bored once more. They will create a world from imagination and do horrible things to it. In one, they personified death as a jester. In another, they had created an incredible genius who went to unite an entire continent, but died full of regrets. That particular one was extremely interesting. The subject had surprised them in many ways. In a different one, they had created a world where a father was abusive and the daughter was loyal. They found solace in art, and eventually repaired their relationship through it. It was quite a sad story that the god didn’t finish. In this one, they had conjured indestructible man eating crabs that destroyed humanity. Yes, you have guessed it. There weren’t any actual gods here. Only writers seeking an outlet for their imaginations. However, when they put word to paper, they create worlds. They create people. Then they dictate what happens to everyone in the story. They were the gods and maybe, the world we live in just servers the purpose as an outlet for some writers imagination. @Miyuu @mrawesome69 @JustaReader @The great metalunicorn
Its the product of a wildly creative and expressive imagination. Writing is good for you. Its fun and it allows a bit of your own emotions to be expressed. Kinda like painting or playing an instrument.
So this is what authors experience when writing. I could imagine authors seeing this post be like "Yeah that´s right we are gods! The pen is truly mightier than the bullshit MC all riaju go explode!" XD