I Should Have Left Him.

I died.

Well, It feels weird to say that. To me it feels more like I just blacked out, but just sitting here in this monochrome white room is already enough to give me an idea of what happened. This place just filled me with a sense of understanding. I just instantly knew that I was dead and this was the after life. I tried to think about who I was and how I might have gotten here, but I was drawing a blank. All I knew for certain is that I was dead.

I took a look at my surroundings. Everything was just white to the point where it hurt my eyes. The only pieces of furniture were the table in front of me and the lone chairs on each side. One of which I was sitting in, all of which where white. I was beginning to think that whoever designed this room might be insane.

Suddenly, a woman appeared in the chair across from me, instantaneously. She was just there. She had blond hair, pale white skin and wore a dark grey suit which gave my eyes a break from the stinging white.

She introduced herself.

"My name is Rachel and if you haven't already figured it out, you're dead."

I knew it.

"Alright then, there's no time to waste. Let's get started."

Even though she just suddenly appeared I didn't feel startled or disturbed at all, as a matter a fact I felt calmer than before. Is this what dying was like? If so this might be the best thing to ever happen to me.

She grabbed a folder out of thin air and took some papers out of it.

"Okay, an overall summary of your life."

Was my entire life really reduced to a few sheets of paper? Then again, It's not like people live lives that are that exciting. I guess my life was just bland like everyone else's. Nevertheless, I was kind of excited to find out what kind of life I lived since I couldn't remember anything. However, as Rachel skimmed through my summary her face grew more and more disgusted.

Was it really that bad? It couldn't be that I was a murder right? Rachel looked up and stared at me with a scowl.

"You're a pitifully disgusting human being."

That hurt. I was being judged for something I don't even remember doing. How is this fair?! Besides what could I have done to warrant such verbal abuse. Even if i'm dead with no memories of my life I have feelings too!

"Take a look for yourself." Rachel placed the folder on the table and slid it over to me. I hesitantly picked it up and read the contents.

Life Summary #4568972822

Name- Ben Royal

D.O.B- Oct 20, 1996

D.O.D- Aug 15, 2022

Age of death-26

Cause of death- Broken neck from slipping on a banana peel.

Occupation- Author

Traits- Coward, Selfish, Greedy, Two-faced, Chronic masturbator, Nerd, Hasn't touched grass since conception.

I slammed the folder shut in a cold sweat. This wasn't me. No way this is me. No matter how scummy a person is, how is it that everything in this is negative. No matter what happens I won't accept this! What do you mean I "haven't touched grass since conception"? Don't just state that so matter-o-factly!

That's when they hit me. The memories of my life.

I used to be a fantasy author and wether you believe me or not I was a pretty good one. My first novel, "My System Wants Me Dead?", was a huge success and my name quickly became well known. I even got my own fan-club! Something that I thought would never happen. However, as time went on my novels became worse and worse. Actually they probably just became more average, but my first novel had already set the bar so high. People would consistently comment things like, "I feel like his writing has recently been degrading", or, "What happened to the guy who wrote the first novel lol."

And my editor, Turner. He was the worst. At first he was all polite and nice but after my decline he showed his sadistic and cynical nature. He constantly berated and talked down to me. I couldn't even fire him since he was the only person who would edit the novel of an otherwise failing author. Under the constant pressure from the audience and verbal abuse from my editor I made a last ditch effort.

I wrote a fantasy novel littered with tragedies. "Overcomer." I gave it a simple name and the entire premise was that the main character would go through horrible unimaginable things and then somehow come out alive and stronger. I didn't have a lot of faith in it and my editor didn't hesitate to tell me how much of a horrible idea it was. However, to our surprise, it was actually kind of successful.

I guess it makes sense in a way. Let's say you have a favorite character. Even though you may love them, you still draw a strange sense of enjoyment when you see them struggle or even break apart. That's not because we're sadistic but because we want to see how they overcome the impossible challenge.

After I realized that I started to exploit it. If one closely dissected the structure of Overcomer they would find that it's just the same thing over and over again. The Mc loses something or someone precious to him, He's beaten to near death. Then the Mc gains a power and defeats his enemy. Now that I think about it the Mc was just someone who got beat up and defeated his enemy with his plot armor. It was just that the things happening to the Mc where just incredibly outlandish and devious.

Eventually, people got tired of my gimmick and realized that I was just dragging the novel on. My editor once again became more cynical and I was a failing author once more. Then I got pissed off. The readers were asking me to stop stretching the story out? My editor was telling me to give up on writing since I clearly had no talent? Fine, I'll write an ending!

I then stayed up for three day straight of red bull and proceeded to write a 45,000 word long chapter detailing the horrific and vile end of the Mc. The things happening in this chapter would make any genocide look like an act of mercy. Anyone reading it would have felt their stomach twist. Even I had a hard time writing it, but I struggled through and published it. Sadly, I didn't even get to see the reviews because after I published the chapter I stood up from my chair to stretch and slipped on a lone banana peel, breaking my neck. I don't even have any words for that kind of death.

"Have you finished reminiscing?" Rachel then called out to me. I now knew why she hurled such insults at me.

"Iv'e seen everything I need to see. I'll make a special punishment just for you."

Wait what? That's just not fair no matter how you look at it.

"Hold on! Why am I being punished for just writing novels?! Is that so wrong!?" I pleaded with her to take it back.

Rachel furrowed her brows, leaned forward, and grabbed me by the shirt collar. "Listen up because I'm only going to say this once." I gulped.

"You're a piece of crap author who did the one thing a writer should never do! You gave your novel a purposefully abrupt and nonsensical ending! That's worse than just stoping in the middle of the story. You deserve the worst kind of punishment because you're the worst kind of human being. "

Rachel seemed to have very strong emotions about authors. Was she reading my novel or something? I was taken aback by her sudden conviction. She smiled sinisterly.

"That's why i've decided to give you a taste of your own medicine." She then snapped her fingers and I felt my heart drop.

No, this can't really be happening.

"You're an author so you should already recognize this set-up, have fun suffering in your own novel!"

My body began to slowly dispute starting from my legs.

"Wait! If this is really the way I think it is then shouldn't I be getting a system at-least?" I started to grasp for straws

"Hmm. I suppose that it would be more enjoyable to give you some kind of hope to grasp onto."

She held her chin and contemplated as my body slowly dissipated, eventually reaching a conclusion.

"Very well then. I'll supply you with something to help you out." She finally spoke those words as nearly my entire body was almost gone.

"Make sure to suffer a lot for me. Ben Royal."

With that I was gone.

************************

When I opened my eyes again I was in a dark room. The only form of light was the moonlight coming through the window next to me. I sat up and looked around as my eyes adjusted to the darkness. The room had wooden walls and the roof was made of hay. There was a bow and a quiver full of arrows in the corner. Just from these facts alone I could tell, this was indeed the world within my book. Since this room was incredibly rustic and I lived in the middle of a city.

Even though I should be distressed I didn't panic. That was of course because of my glorious cheat system!

'System interface!' I called out for the system in my head...nothing happened. Maybe I should say it out loud?

"System interface?" Nothing still. Although I did notice that my voice sounded different from before. Maybe I need to do a certain movement. I waved my hand and called for the system to show itself.

"Oh glorious and handsome system please show yourself to me!" ...I began to get desperate. I did a plethora of movements and various chants mostly coming from certain cartoons, yet not a single one of them warranted a reaction. It couldn't be what I think, right? I have to have a system. That Rachel lady said so. Angels can't lie, right?

I decided to put a hold on unlocking my system and figure out my situation first. When I tried to get out of bed I noticed that I was much shorter than before. I walked over to a mirror in the room and looked at myself.

As I thought.

I was no longer in my body. I look to have entered the body of a child. I had black hair and burgundy eyes. My limbs were as frail as sticks and if it weren't for my short hair, I could probably be mistaken for a girl. Although my memory wasn't photographic, I did remember that the main cast had no one like this among them. Which probably meant that I became a run of the mill fodder character. This wasn't necessarily a bad thing either. I was better to be farther away from the Mc. After all, wherever he goes suffering follows. Now that I know what kind of character I am the next step is finding out where I am. Depending on where that book enthusiast dropped me, I might be able to just relax until the end of the story.

I turned towards the wooden door and slowly opened it. I could see a single light source coming from down the hallway. Cautiously, I inched towards it. I peered around the corner and saw a man sitting in a chair and reading a book. He had a stern face and looks that resembled mine. Thinking I might be able to ask him something I steeped out from around the corner and revealed myself.

The man looked up from his book and stared at me. "Why are you still up? It's well past your bedtime you know."

I had to quickly come up with some kind of excuse.

"Ah, well...Dad? Can you tell me how to spell the name of this place?"

"What?"

This was the only way to make it sound natural. Asking him straight up where we were currently would just sound suspicious. This way I can get him to tell me where we are without asking outright. Please just bear with it for now daddy!

"Can you please just tell me it's for something important. Then I promise I'll go to bed!"

"Agh fine, but listen carefully because I'll only say this once." My "father" rubbed his temples and placed down his book.

"A-i-m-a-t-i-r-í G-e-n-i-á. Aimatirí Geniá. Got it?"

I suddenly felt my heart sink. No, anywhere but this place. I suddenly turned and dashed to the window in my bedroom yanking open the curtains. I nearly feel to my knees in shock. Up in the sky, shining brightly where three full moons.

I suddenly remembered the exact wording I used on the first page of this accursed novel.

"The tyrannical lords spared no souls that night. Whether they be farmer, warrior, or noble. They where all slain by his men. It's not exactly known what drove the lord to decide to do this. Perhaps it was a political move or maybe a whim. All that's know for sure is that on the knight of the three full moons the island, Aimatirí Geniá, was no more."

I wrote those words so nonchalantly and now I was being forced to face the reality of them. Of all the places I could have ended up Aimatirí Geniá was the worst of them. It was just a place I wrote to be destroyed, thus setting the tone of the novel but now it was threatening to kill me! If I wanted to have any chance of surviving I needed to escape immediately.

I sprang up and grabbed my bow and quiver. After hanging them on my back I skimmed the room for anything else that looked useful. Seeing a small spell book I snatched it and dashed down the hallway.

"Wha- You! I thought I already told you to!"

"Sorry! Listen we have to leave or else-!"

I was cut off by the sound of glass shattering. I put my arm up to shield me eyes and when I put it back down, I saw something horrific. My father's skull had been run through with a flaming arrow. I watched as he slowly slid down in his chair, maintaining eye contact with me. I was frozen solid. He was just about to scold me a second ago and now he was dead. I held my stomach. I felt sick. I had described much worse things but that didn't mean I was used to actually looking at such gore.

No! If I don't want to end up like him I need to move quickly

I turned away and stumbled to the cupboards where things like bread and apples where being stored I gathered as much as I could possibly carry and put them in a leather bag that was laying next to my father. I had to smush the bread quite a bit but food was food. I looked up at my fathers corpse.

I can't believe I'm was about to loot my own dad's dead body.

I grit my teeth and flipped him over. He didn't have much of anything on him but he did have the book he was reading. Just in case I picked it up and looked at the title. "Cold :A Man's Fight against the elements."

"Useless" I thought. Even still I found it hard to just discard it so I stuck it In the bag and kept moving. More flaming arrows began to pierce the walls and shatter the glass. I remembered that this place's roof was made of hay so it was only a matter of time before this house went up in flames. The house was relatively small with only three rooms so it shouldn't take too long for me to go through the rest of the house. I pushed open the door across from my room. It seemed to be a lot bigger than mine so I could guess that it was his. I began to ransack the place but nothing of value popped up. There was a long sword next to his bed but a kid like me couldn't even hold that.

I rushed to the last room and busted into it. I was hopping that it would lead to a cellar or something but I just found something troublesome. Right there on the bed in front of me was a snoring child.

The kid had blond hair and a body smaller than mine. Was this my brother? No that hardly mattered at this point. I was now faced with a dilemma. If I take this kid with me then I would probably be slowed down but if I didn't then...he would surely die.

I could hear the sound of horns and screaming in the distance. I bit my lip and ran to the kid. I threw him over my shoulder and ran out of the house. I exited from the back and quickly surveyed the surroundings. I saw a dense forrest in front of me and took off. I ran towards it like a madman and didn't look back. Not even when I heard the crackling of fire or the screams for help getting louder. I didn't stop even though my lungs felt like they where inside-out. I ran past the trees and deeper and deeper into the forrest until I couldn't take it anymore and collapsed.

The kid fell and rolled a bit before groaning. How could he sleep though all that? He sure was a deep sleeper. I sat against a tree and caught my breath. At this distance we should be safe for a bit. I thought about how suddenly things had been moving and how just a second ago this body belonged to a kid who was sleeping blissfully unaware of his fate. It didn't seem possible but it felt incredibly real. If I wanted to survive in this barbaric place then I of course needed to use my knowledge of the future. That much I knew, but what good would my knowledge do me if I was in a place that was currently being destroyed.

I sighed and held my head. Unaware that the worst was yet to come.

"Auggh~" The kid sat up and stretched his arms. Looking around he eventually noticed me. Ah! I get it. The poor kid must be disoriented and confused. I should probably explain-

"Who the hell are you?"

"Hah?" Is this how a kid should speak!?

"Do you have mud in your ears? Im asking who you are and where the heck am I you idiot?"

Wait. this way of speech, the way he's talking to me is too familiar. It couldn't be.

"T- Turner?"

"How the hell do you know my name?!"

'NO.NO.NO.NO.NO.NO.NO' I held my head. Not only am I trapped in a novel that's about death, on an island that's being destroyed, but this cynical trash is here with me?!

"I asked you a question idiot!"

I should have just left him to die.