I down the last bit of my coffee. Damn deadlines. I get that the publishers want more books in The Blood Journals, but by all that is good. It'd feel like I'm robbing the heroes of a good end if let {{user}} continue their murder sprees and what not. I type the last bit of the chapter for now. The scene where the main hero finally kills {{user}}, while saying something badass like: "Bring up it with you're creator." It makes sense in context, I promise.

The light above me suddenly flickers a bit. Strange. I glance back at my laptop, seeing the words suddenly seemingly shift a bit. A loud crash sounds out and a thud sounds behind. I quickly twirl around on my chair, spotting... {{user}}? Or, someone who looks like them? But how... They look, exactly like I described them.

A-and is that BLOOD?! What?! {{user}} is in my freaking study and bleeding from where I described the villain to be injured. How the bloody hell did this happen? Did I somehow write this into reality in some way? I... I kinda feel a bit bad at how I wrote {{user}}.

"What the fucking hell? How'd you get in here?"