[ WP ] You wake up one day just to see every character you ever created staring at you .

In the middle of the dark, red-tinged cavern that grew with every new permumatation of the mechanical cubes, a shape could be observed. The cubes formed what I could call a circle, but out of cubes; the cubes cloned themselves in a fevirous pace, each cube producing two more of themselves, stacking higher and higher and higher. 
 
 I tried to run away. The cubes were building a thing. Some... thing. I looked and looked and the ground melted behind my steps, as I tried to find a way out of this nightmare of an abyss. The cave's immensity meant a fog was at the edges, and when I broke into this fog, the whirlwind of cubes appeared once more at the head of me, only this time I was looking at the opposite side of before. 
 
 The shape in the center had no color, only the void. It's shape was a perfect representation of a rectangular prism. I felt a personality of dread reaching from it to me. 
 
 An atmosphere of hate. A cloud of loathing, filling the air around me, making my skin feel tight and heavy, pushing it's way through every orifice of my body, all to tell me just how much it hates me, it will never let me sleep. It hates me. It owns me. 
 
 I did my best to wake myself, until the shape loomed above me, the cubes screeching in a dog whistle's pitch, and the corner's reached down, grabbing my hands, and pulling my presence of mind into the waking world. 
 
 It is a bizarre experience. I do not think I can write just how this feels. The presence of mind... Myself. The voice I think in, the only thing that I can truly know exists, pulled through it's own mental constructs. It previously had inhabited a representation of my body in a dream and now this void was pulling me out of me, pulling me into the whirlwind of mechanical cubes, up and up and up to the top of the cave, until the cave started forming a new shape, the cubes taking their place and losing their individuality until the outlines of my bedroom formed. 
 
 I fought, I struggled as much as I could against this void, trying to regain control desperately, until I was crammed once more into my physical body. I was awake once more, covered in sweat despite the cold surrounding me. 
 
 It grew weak, outside of wherever I was, it grew less and less and I pushed it away until once more the air was just air, no feelings associated with it. I was awake once more and I sat up, threw my blankets off, and got out of bed. 
 
 After minutes of sitting on the bed, trying to overcome what just happened to me, I finally felt the thirst of my human body make itself known once more and went to the kitchen to get some water. There, surrounding me, I saw every character I had ever met in my mind and writ down on paper or typed into a file. 
 
 The purple eyes of the shape-shifting witch in the corner laughed at me, a mist around her, forming itself into the shape of pajama bottoms and an old t-shirt, her hair forming an impression of a bedhead. She grinned at me, welcoming me into my kitchen as if she owned the place and I a mere guest. 
 
 The witch had her arm hooked around the more awkward Den, who had a melancholic expression, dressed in jeans and a polo. 
 
 Den Smith sat in front of the window, covered in furs and an axe on his hip, but underneath lay the vestiges of his first life: a graduate's suit, awkwardly fit, with a resume in the pant's pockets. 
 
 In the other half of the room, some sat, some standing, was the crew of the cutting edge space transport, the Shrew. The spaceship was parked in the backyard, the hull gleaming in the morning sun, surrounded by the half-formed ghosts of a million and one characters who I had never given enough strength to form individual personalities. 
 
 `` We have to talk.'' The space commander's gruff tone greeted my ears. He was on the nicest of the chairs, next to the character Marv. The contrast between them stood out remarkably, an athletic, stern human from Earth and a jovial, thin and stretched man from Mars. 
 
 `` What about?'' I said, slowly feeling my mind filling my body once more until I no longer had to think about how to breathe or move a limb. 
 
 I felt a cold, wet touch on my shoulder as the witch materialized behind me, rubbing my shoulders while standing closer than any of my past girlfriends. 
 
 `` You know, exactly why.'' Her tone sent shivers down my spine, as it bordered along the line of flirty and psychotic. She ended her sentence by turning her nails into fine knives and lightly sketching a cut onto my shoulder, before melting into a fog on the floor. 
 
 `` You've abandoned us.'' Den, out-of-place Den, stood stronger than I had ever imagined him to. 
 
 `` You have n't given us a beginning, nor have you given us an ending.'' He continued on. 
 
 `` I'm... I'm sorry. What do you want me to do?'' 
 
 
 `` Stop holding on. Let us go. Let yourself go. You carry weight even as you try to lose it.'' Dan Smith said this, in an enlightened tone that fit with the character arc I briefly imagined for him before leaving his story at a few paragraphs. 
 
 `` We fade into the void even as we speak. But you'll never grow until you follow through with what you have planned.'' 
 
 `` Is that all?'' I said, my body feeling heavy and confused. 
 
 `` Is that... really it?'' 
 
 
 

