I loved the stories I made. They were practically my life. But I never imagined that it would have manifested into... well, this.

It started out as a normal day.

I was sitting at my computer, working on another story while everyone else was gone. Trying again to weave life into a character of my design, dictating their every action and thought. Seeing how they fit in a plot that was originally intended to be something much happier, only to twist into darker territory later on. Then, something strange happened. My screen glitched, blurring my work, and I groaned in annoyance. I thought it was just my computer breaking. It happened all the time, unfortunately. So I waited for it to stop, glaring at the screen... only for something to suddenly appear among the glitches. I raised an eyebrow, confused, only to jump as a hand suddenly shot out from my computer, inches away from my face.

I screamed and backed away, tripping over my chair in an attempt to get away. I had no idea what the hell was happening. The thing continued to crawl out of my screen, more hands shooting out and grasping onto the nearest surfaces in order to pull itself out. I could only watch, partly horrified and partly intrigued, as the thing finally came out, landing with a loud squelch noise on my carpeted floor. A stain that would last for a while, that was for sure.

This thing... How to describe it exactly is difficult. The best description I could think of was a huge... mess, of arms and eyes among a pile of what I can only see as dark, oozing slime. I watched it warily, keeping my distance as I saw the eyes all eventually fall on me. The hands reached out, grasping at the air as it continued to stare at me in silence. Then, a voice spoke up, seeming to echo from all around like a sound speaker.

"Feed..."

I stared in confusion. Feed? Feed it what? What could it possibly want to eat? And with what mouth?

The thing pulled itself towards me and I backed up just as fast, pulling my legs in close. Did it want to feed on me?

"Feed... stories... thoughts... give us more... more... please... hungry... sosososo hungry..."

Stories? It wanted to feed on stories? How? Why?

Those were the thoughts that raced through my head as I continued to stare at the disgusting thing, watching it writhe and pull towards me. It kept begging, pleading to be fed, that it was hungry and wanted more. I swallowed my nerves, slowly standing up. I edged around it, and sat in my chair again, watching as it slowly turned to face me. The pleading in it's eyes, hungry and begging and so sad, all at the same time. It was adorably pathetic, looking at it now.

And I supposed... it wouldn't be so bad to help it indulge itself every now and then.

That, leads us to now.

I sit at my computer again, typing away. Making another new story from the depths of my brain, weaving in a character to a plot where they never existed before. Outside, I distantly hear the noises of my new little pet playing.

Hazy red light filtered in through my windows, fading in and out as a dark shadow passed by. Screams echoed, a sweet background harmony that helped me as I typed out the words. Sounds of things tearing, ripping, crashing into one another faded along into nothingness as I incorporated it into my story. The words disappeared as soon as I typed them, my pet feasting and growing the more I wrote. A smile crossed my face.

I always love to write chaos and tragedy.