"Honk, Honk" said the Truck-Kun from the distance. It had left for some reason and said something very important, but I did not listen anymore. Sorry, but I had better things to do.
"Who the hell spoke from the void just now?" I could not help but speak to myself. I thought I had managed to escape the disembodied voice narrating every single stupid thing.
"Oh that was my Creator, he occasionally says stupid stuff and then leaves. He is mostly harmless"
"Wait," I said in disbelief, " You hear this dumbass as well?" A valid question since I thought I was just suffering from Schizophrenia or some strange disease that made me hear stupid voices.
" Of course, I do hear it too, Number 21. We have one and the same creator, after all", Jan Itor exclaimed nonchalantly. As if it was the most normal thing in the world.
Okay, can someone please explain to me what was going on here? Seriously, please just make sense of whatever has been happening here.
Are you telling me, that I am just some sort of creation by some dude sitting in his Mom's basement? What even is real at this point, if I am not real? The 10k prize money, the story idea of mine everything was just an idea of someone else.
Was there even a purpose to any of it? My author could simply write " and they found the traitor spy sitting behind a dark corner and the day was saved. Then they walked home and masturbated furiously because they are such sad virgins"- The End.
.
" You alright there, bud?"
That dude seriously just asked if everything was okay. He dropped a bombshell and shattered my view of reality. There is no such a thing as free will. Every single action of mine was decided by someone else. But of course, I am feeling very normal. Thanks for asking buddy.
Aside from the feeling of existential dread, I was feeling perfectly fine, thank you very much.
"Ah, you suffer from creator-itis. Don't worry ma guy, it should be over….by now"
What was he sayi…ng? Yeah, it was over. What a truly weird feeling that was.
" Ah, welcome back to the fictional living. Need me to explain a little more about the whole thing?"
Jan Itor casually offered the explanation, while swinging his mop wildly around. There was still some blood on it…
Was he really not concerned about the human remains? Just how often did he have to clean up blood? At that very moment I was more afraid of the Janitor than my creator.
Not waiting for my answer, he explained in great detail about the whole situation. I followed his quick footsteps to the next location as another child had puked again. Jan Itor called it quite the regular occurrence.
Main characters were puke machines, he added after removing the mix out of noodles and chicken, which used to be in someone's stomach.
"So lemme get this straight. Our creator is a lazy bastard, has a bad naming sense, does not finish any of his stories, hates describing clothes, is incapable of describing appearances, sucks at writing dialogue and usually skimps over important details to make crappy puns?"
Jan Itor nodded as he was happily removing the blood stains away coming from a dense Japanese Harem MC that got slapped because of a "happy" accident"
Great, where the hell should I start? Did that bastard even describe our faces? It's no wonder I could not even recall the names of my parents; this author had not given them any, to begin with.
And seriously calling an author "Author" and janitor Jan Itor was just icing on the shit cake that our lazy creator had created.
Finding a spy at a School for MC's… he really must be a creative genius. What's next Truck-Kun being a transfer student trying to learn how to be a main character?
Guess, who drove around the corner wearing a comically small pink backpack. It was everyone's favourite truck-Kun. With Steve's arrival, my last bit of expectations and respect for our creator had vanished into thin air.
Jan, while mopping yet another bloodstain away, do not ask me where this one came from, calmly talked to me again.
" Just know, that Truck-Kun here can not hear our Author. It is the main Character of another story"
WAAAAAIT a God damn minute… was he seriously telling me there were more creators out there with such stupid ideas? I mean, good for Truck-Kun, but I was seriously worried about the well-being of the author, who thought it was a good idea to make a sentient truck the main character of their novel.
"How does all of this even make sense?" I was genuinely confused how multiple people could possess such an amazing malfunctioning brain. There had to be a limit to the stupidity of breathing beings.
Jan Itor gave me a long sigh and looked at me with pity in his eyes. He even stopped mopping away the blood from yet another unnamed victim─that is how serious he was.
Look here, this world has been created by our creator, but all the other authors shape and construct their own MC's. They only visit this school to learn how to be a very unoriginal lead. Because our Big Dude made the setting like that. So yes, there is someone equally stupid out there with a sentient Truck as their MC."
"Strangely, enough we MCs are a little bit different to the rest. We…" A sudden stray fireball came from the side and ripped his head clean off.
A fountain of blood clad the room in a crimson hue.
The decapitated head sighed again and whispered. " Why do I have to be the one to clean this mess?"
The body, now without its head, simply kept on using its mob to erase the copious amount of blood that just left his body. A few seconds later another head appeared, where the old one used to be.
" As you can see, we are kinda immortal. While everyone changes, I remain the same. I am constantly in a state between life and death since our author has not written a chapter in ages."
Sorry, but you just gave me more questions and no satisfying answer… I will just nod and act as if I understood a single thing Jan just said.
Seeing me nodding, Jan realized that he had to explain the issues again and this time veeeery slowly…