There is a story. A story chronicling the epic tales of many heroic beings in their quests. A story that details their attempts to fight against an evil being whose power is vast. A story that tells us about how they persevered against even the great odds: betrayals, death, doubts and even themselves. A story in which they succeeded in achieving their goals, no matter how impossible it may have been. A story so epic that the gods themselves would have sobbed at the end, for they would not have wanted the story to truly become complete. A story in which you, the reader, would probably want to read right now in order to feel what many others felt as they read it.
However, this is not that story.
This is a story about a boy. A boy who had succumbed to the terrors that lurked within the shadows of the Internet, and became one of them, spreading his chaotic influence far and wide. A boy who brought kingdoms to their knees with his terrible grammar, lack of maturity and incredibly short temper. A boy who believed himself to be the greatest being that had and will exist. A boy who lead a crusade against all that opposed him, conquering their lands and destroying their identity. A boy who was unstoppable in his quest, a simple quest which he began on a whim.
Yet one single kingdom managed to halt his advance.
The website known as BZPower, the biggest BIONICLE fansite on the Internet, tamed the boy, purging him of his chaotic powers and chaining him to their forums. Using the powers given to them as a side-effect of being a BIONICLE fansite, they forced him to join them, wanting him to use his powers for the alignment known as 'Lawful Good'. It was mostly successful, and the boy ended his crusade, returning his conquered kingdoms to the former owners.
And so order returned to the Internet, allowing for normality to settle in again. The boy continued on with his life, becoming a more intelligent being that contributed more to the society of BZPower, maturing as he did so. With the influence the site had on him, his spelling and grammar improved greatly, and he was no longer the simple immature boy of the past, becoming what one would call, a 'man', or at least a teenager who had a greater understanding of the world.
Under the name of Hubert, the boy, or teenager now, began to write stories, for his imagination had become restless after being locked up for so long. Fearing that he would begin a second crusade, the powers that be subtly nudged him in the direction of the Comedies forum, where chaos reigned supreme, and could be controlled by the most skilled of writers. Upon seeing this, the teen had smiled, and began to post his stories, all of which had come straight from the chaotic confines of his mind, where the essence of his imagination was locked up. However, none of his stories managed to become successful, and they began to fall into the void that all terrible stories existed in.
But Hubert was not one to give up when confronted with failure. He wrote more stories, adding chapters after chapters in his attempt to make his mark on the forum. During this process he even made friends, or at least mutually beneficial partnerships with others, hoping for people to take notice of him. Yet when they did, he began to lose interest in them, and updates began to slow down as he tried to break free of his laziness.
So when he was unable to, he left his stories lying there, watching them spiral into the abyss with gloomy eyes. With one of his favourite hobbies gone, the teen decided to settle down and merely read the stories of others.
As the teen continued to read the stories of others though, there was a longing within him to write more stories. He tried to resist the call, but it was too strong. So with a dusty keyboard and a mind filled with the chaos and terrors of the Internet, Hubert began to type the very words you see here on this screen. He typed and typed, ideas flowing into his fingers as he crafted a tale from mere words. His methods were rather strange as well. During the time when he was not writing, the teen had absorbed many different and new ideas, hoping to one day use them. With the chance to write a story again, he got to work applying these ideas, and smiled when he realised what exactly he could do.
Hubert was going to make himself the antagonist of his tale.
With a laugh, he continued typing his story, hoping for it to have over nine thousand words and over nine thousand readers. He knew this was merely wishful thinking, but he had a massive ego, which could be easily shown in his rather insane methods of doing things. So he typed and typed, weaving a tale of futile resistance against the god of the story, himself, the being who controlled all within his imagination.
The denizens of Spherus Magna would once again be dragged into the mind of a somewhat crazy guy, forced to go along with his machinations.
And as the prologue of his story came to a close, the thirteen year old behind his computer monitor chuckled, leaning back as he said the words that would officially begin the tale.
"I love being a writer."
Edited by Hubert: Crimson Lord, Dec 18 2011 - 02:59 AM.