My eyes were wide with shock and excitement at what I had done. My staff slipped from my hands and hit the floor with a creak. I was staring at a tall muscular man holding an even larger hammer in his hand. His eyes were full of horror.

“Are you Malik?” I asked him.

“Who are you? Where am I? ” Malik cried as he lifted his hammer. “How do you know my name?”

“I know you must have a million questions,” I said. “Don’t worry. I’ll answer them all. Firstly, I am Katsu - short for Katsu106. Secondly, you are in my magic sanctum. Thirdly, I know who you are, because I created you.”

Malik was the main character of the first short story I ever wrote. I was known throughout my community for being an aspiring writer who engaged in emotional dark fantasy stories that were occasionally humorous. I was also known for being an eccentric magician, and today, I managed to accomplish something I’ve been trying for months to do - summon the characters I wrote in my stories.

Malik looked at me confusion. “How did you create me? Are you the goddess? Am I dead? But you are a guy.”

“I am not a goddess,” I said. “I am a magician. And you aren’t dead or alive, because you technically don’t exist.”

“Then what do you mean by creating me?” Malik asked.

“I wrote a story about you,” I said. “I created you, Hugo, Zharvis, and everyone else you know or see. I essentially orchestrated everything that happened in your life and the lives of those around you. I caused the people to invade the Orphanage and kill many of your friends. I caused you to become a bounty hunter. I-.”

Malik was growing angrier by the moment. “You … you made my life hell?” He swung the hammer, but I uttered a spell to make the hammer disappear.

“Cant have my head fly off,” I said.

“You are despicable,” Malik screamed. “I swear on Master Zharvis’ name, I’ll kill you.”

Maybe I messed up, I thought. I was so excited to summon my characters, that I forgot how my characters would react.

Suddenly, I heard something hit the ground with a large thud behind me. I knew I had summoned someone else. Another one of my characters.

“Who are you?” Malik shouted.

I turned around to see a short kid who was morbidly obese. I immediately recognized him.

“Hello, Theodore,” I said. “Welcome to my sanctum.”

“What on earth?” Malik cried. “How are you this wide? I never thought it was possible to be this big.”

“That's because your story was an action novel,” I said to Malik. “And it made more sense to write only characters with god tier, realistically unattainable without steroids physique in your story.”

“Wha-,” Malik was confused again.

“Where am I again?” Theodore cried. “Where is Aunt Jolie? Also, I’m hungry.”

“Don’t worry,” I said. “You’ll survive without a meal for a few seconds. Or maybe not.”

I heard another thump. My summoning spell to summon all my short story characters seemed to be working extremely well . . .

I turned my head to see a man in a light blue hospital attire. He was in a wheelchair.

“Hello, Richard Kirkson,” I said. “Are you in good health?”

“Oh so that’s my name?” Richard said with newfound wonder.

“I am not even going to ask about this man,” Malik said. A man trained to be a killer, who fought all kinds of people, giving up mentally because he saw a man with dementia in a wheelchair, was hilarious.

“Hey gramps,” Theodore said. “Have some hard candy on you?”

“Hey Richie,” Richard said to Theodore. “How are you doing?”

“Who the fuck is Richie?” he asked. “My name is Theodore.”

I saw someone get summoned in front of me. It was a man in an astronaut outfit.

“Daviron Junior,” I said. “Welcome!”

“What?” Daviron looked with shock. “You are a human in a magician outfit? Not an astronaut outfit?”

“Yes,” I said. “My name is Katsu.”

“But this cannot be,” Daviron said. “Earth was completely destroyed. Did I somehow transport myself to an alternate universe?”

“Yes,” I said.

“Even so,” Daviron said. “This is … this is.” He removed his helmet and I could see tears in his eyes. “I’m finally back on Earth, even if it isn’t mine. Let me leave this house and explore outside a little.”

He ran out of the room.

“What the fuck?” Theodore asked. “A man with a hammer? An old man? Now an astronaut? What the fuck is going on?”

“I know your Auntie Jolie isn’t here,” I told Theodore. “But you should still mind your language.”

Malik just stared absent-mindedly, as the old man started repeating his name over and over.

“I wonder who else is going to show up,” I replied. “I’d like one of my female main characters to show up. I’m all about feminism after all.”

As if on cue, a woman appeared right in front of me. She wore old Puritan clothing that told me immediately who she was.

“This must be a dream,” Loretta Winfried said nonchalantly. “A dream right before my execution as a witch.”

“Oh don’t worry,” I told her. “You aren’t actually a witch. You are just a human I wrote to be unfairly sentenced to execution in the Salem Witch Trials. If anything, I’m the witch here.”

“WHAT?” Loretta screamed as she slapped my face. “Don’t you DARE accuse yourself of that.”

“You allow a mere woman to hit you in the face,” Malik asked. “But not me? How is that fair?”

“You were going to hit me with a fucking hammer,” I gently reminded him.

“Anyways, Loretta. I am actually a witch. I literally summoned you and everyone else in this room.”

To prove my point I caused a book in my room to levitate. Loretta blinked for a moment, before screaming at the top of her lungs.