Agony Christened

The main character of this story sits at his desk to read these words that I write about him. He feels a chill at the nape of his neck, because in the previous chapters up to this point—unread by you, the reader, because they remain unwritten—every other character in this story was found in a garage, behind a bush, in a dumpster, or along an alleyway, either stabbed, shot, or choked to death. So many dead characters in this story, that now the main character of this story wonders whether he is next.

The protagonist of this story feels a surge in his fear as he reads this first sentence of this second paragraph. The plot will get thicker here; it has to. This story ends at the 371st word, so something has to happen now to avoid losing the interest of the reader, you who has no more time than to read this from your cell phone, or from your computer at work just before lunch. And so, with only one character left alive in this story, the main character of this story looks toward the thin curtain flapping limply near an open window. He hears the old house creak as it settles toward the last three paragraphs of this story.

The main character of this story knows he is the only character left as he reads these words being written about him, and in just nine words past the previous comma, he knows without doubt that he will die next.

“Don’t do it!” he yells. “Please don’t do it! If you kill me, too, there will be no one left to walk the dark and unsettled landscapes you have imagined to carry along the story. You will have only locations and settings, with no one to carry the plot or to execute the story. You will reach the ending with no conclusion. You will have nothing left to write about.”

A flash. The main character of this story drops the pages of this story, runs to the open window mentioned in the second paragraph, and he watches in agony as mushroom clouds begin to appear one after another. So many that, even before this story can reach its final period…