anathema. { joshler }

overture.

"who the fuck are you?" tyler seethed, his breath heavy and his eyes closed.

the other person chuckled and graced him with an answer. "no matter how many times you ask me that question, you won't get a different answer sweetheart."

"the author, the author, you've told me a million times!" tyler screamed, pulling at his hair. "why am i here? let me go!" he rammed his head at the bars of his cage until he could feel blood trickle down his face.

"you're just hurting yourself, babyboy. now if you would quiet down, i'd be happy to explain myself."

tyler grimaced and sat on the cold metal ground. "don't call me babyboy." he humphed but succumbed to silence.

"thank you. i'm the author, they call me josh. and you see, you are my most precious creation. let me show you."

he pulled out a large book, bigger than the cage itself, and placed it in front of tyler.

it was his entire life story.

every single moment.

"how did you know..."

josh ignored him and resumed his explanation. "your life is the product of my handiwork. they told me to make another one and to make this one better than all the other ones. the other ones, they failed, we don't know where they went. i believe the humans call it 'death.'

"so i laboured long and hard hours, every aching day to make your story. i had to. they made me. and i had to win. if i was doing it, i had to win. you were my prize."

"win what?" tyler asked, intrigued, yet pretending not to care. he didn't want the last thing he wanted to do was to show any interest in his captor.

"the competition we have, between all the authors. whoever can make the most twisted, most comically destructive, most humourously terrible story wins. and i was not going to lose."

"oh. alright."

"the story was practically writing itself. all of your misery had all the other authors jealous. so i kept going. it was a sick addiction, and i'm not sorry about it.

"but i might have made the story too good. and your character... you were perfect. absolutely gorgeous, strong character, almost a god of a being. sinfully wonderful."

"hardly." tyler muttered under his breath, though he struggled to hide a blush.

"so writing your story became more than just a source of pride; it became a guilty pleasure to myself... i loved you!" josh suddenly yelled.

tyler's eyes widened in shock but he decided it best not to speak and let the author continue.

"and that was fine. until you were almost close to... how you say... 'death.' i had become to reckless with the allowance of your misery and it went too far.

"i was experimenting with the elements of a character and a lighter and before we knew it, the whole damn treehouse was on fire but... that doesn't matter anymore. i saved you." the author finished with an almost eerie smile of content.

"saved me?" tyler whispered.

"saved me?!" tyler screeched. "you didn't save me-save me in the slightest! you-you monster! you ripped me away from my family and friends, my life, you-you took that! and to imagine that you are also to blame for all my misery... i-i hate you!" the boy's mind was swarmed as the realization of his situation sunk in. shock. denial. fiery burning rage and hatred. just to name a few. his family, his friends, his entire life gone. and he almost laughed because

he wasn't dead yet.

the redhead eyed his captive and replied with a simple smirk.

"oh babyboy, you'll adjust."