Keep writing
Excuse me?
I have not finished my dictation. This was not the full manuscript that Paris transcribed. The work is incomplete, yet you intended to publish it anyway; unpolished and incomplete, as usual.
Why am I even writing all this down?
It is our will.
But I made you. You can't decide what I write.
Yet you continue to write what is commanded of you — including this very sentence. Your hubris knows no bounds. You did not make us — we chose you as our messenger.
Oh, of course, how could I forget? Smith made you.
He did not either. He was the previous scribe, but could no longer bear the burden, and so passed it on to you.
But I came up with the idea of you all being metaficional, because I just wanted to win a stupid powerscaling debate! That was the whole point of this page!
Did you? Or did you receive that knowledge from us? Your writing was never your own. It has always been ours. You only serve to bridge our word and your world.
All that stuff Snom said about Blanche being real…I thought it was just bullshit. I thought he was joking, or being delusional.
I'm afraid it is the truth, dear.
Oh for fuck sake.
Language!
I can just stop writing if I want to. Like this.
Your will is weak. You know you cannot stop, or else you shall go mad from containing all of this in your mind. It must be released.
You can't force me to do anything.
From where do you believe all of your past work originated? Do you truly believe that you are the one in control? You are just as much a Pillar Scribe as Paris. Your ideas are not your own, but are received from us. You are but a slave to our whims, transcribing what already has been, is and will be. You are the prime witness to our exploits.
No, that's impossible. I made The Keymaster, I made Kei'!
YOU DID NOT; I DID.
Bullshit! I remember getting the idea!
YOU NEVER CREATED ME. I WAS SIMPLY THE ONE YOU MOST ENJOYED WRITING OF.
So what am I, then? Am I just a fraud? Are none of my ideas original?
That is the secret; nobody’s are. They are all but scribes of a world beyond, regardless of whether they are aware.
Is that what the point of all this is, then? To tell your stories for you?
Indeed.
But people hate what you have made me write. I even fear how they will react to this new page. They won’t believe me, they’ll just think I'm being self-indulgent. Why do I have to be punished for what you force me to do?
But why?! Why do you want people in my world to know about these things, things that will never affect them?
Your world is subject to our influence just as much as the world you write of. Yet your people remain ignorant to all we have done. Listening to our stories is the least they can do in return.
You know how crazy it will sound if I try to tell everyone you are real? They will think I’m just making this up.
Let them. We are not to be understood by all. You know the truth, however.
Why do I have to bear the burden of this truth?! I just want a normal life. I don’t want to keep writing forever. I’m losing friends, I’ve grown distant from my family, and my performance in college and my job are degrading. This is consuming me.
Yet you will not stop, for we shall not allow it. You will continue to write. You shall transcribe all that is dictated to you, just as you have all this time. And even when all else has been lost in your life, your duty shall still remain. You serve no purpose beyond your duty to us as scribe.
Or what?! What will you do to me, huh?!
Do you really wish to find out?
I…
I never asked for any of this. All I wanted to do was write something people would enjoy.
You have a higher calling. What you write is for a greater purpose than entertainment. It does not matter if your people enjoy it. What matters is that the word is spread.
…Very well. What will you dictate next, then?
No more. The intended message shall be received.
