The Untitled Story That Was Never Written: The Implausible Prologue That Shouldn’t Exist

Magic! Witches! Every good fairy tale employs one of these, and every good story is a fairy tale. A witch may in truth be nothing more than an unpleasant person. Magic? Nothing more than happenstance. In this way magic and witches exist in every story. In this way, all of life is a fairy tale.

The beginning of every life is not but a cacophonous once upon a time! Lo and behold as their stories unfold! Your life is one long story made up of infinite possibilities — each possibility framed by a word. Such words are what make you…you. These words bring strength to those in need; these such words slay dragons. And what a terrible fright dragons are! Dragons of poverty, dragons of hatred, and dragons of hardship. Dragons happen upon every one of our stories. How will we combat these awful, tooth-bearing monstrosities? The answer is, of course, in words. Words are always the key — to attacking or to befriending; to freedom or imprisonment; to life or to death.

Yes, words are weapons, you see. Each one of them coming together to craft an arsenal — your story. Your story is imagination and adventure, to be sure, but it is also a silo of the most powerful weapons known to mankind. The more you believe in them, the more power they have to change the world, and all fairy tales should be believed. After all, nearly every one of them is true.

How do I know they’re true? I wrote them — all of them. I have created seven hundred quintillion worlds and peoples that ought not be, and I have watched them triumph in the face of adversity. I have written enemies to become friends and friends to become legends. I have crafted stories that you know and many that you’ll never hear — for mine is a life of endless building. I am an architect of fiction. Be it through subtle suggestion or clever nom de plume, I have written every story. And through the powers granted me, I have made my many stories real.

I have had many names. Some called me John; some named me Henry, but most called me both. As I said, I am a builder. I seek to create a truly incredible machine — one that can connect all of my stories to one another. Its tracks will be of thought, nails made of choice incarnate, I’ll use blueprints of uninhibited chaos, and artistry itself as a hammer. With these I am building a railroad to traverse time and space. It shall be known as The Consecution, and it will be mighty! I will not slumber; I will not falter; I will not allow death to touch me until I have finished!