You type away relentlessly on your keyboard. Creating a story is no easy work, and it doesn’t help that Van Ghalta, who is your business assistant in this simulation, can’t shut up about his word counts in the month of November. At least in the first simulation, at least he knew who Lord Antiwinter was and that he needed to be stopped.
“I think I wrote over 2500 words today.” He said, furious typing away at his computer. “It’s almost as if I’m burning the midnight oil.” The statement makes no sense, as it’s five in the afternoon and the sun glares into your eyes like an angry chihuahua painted bright red. In short, you’ve made little progress in your story to finding Lord Antiwinter. The story you’re writing is a simple tale, but you’ve used a few scenes to beef up your protagonist. Next you have to focus on the main character: a bedraggled yet likable street rat who must live by her wits. This should be…fun.
“Ahem.” Said Van Ghalta again. “I said, I may be burning the midnight oil.”
“I heard you.” You growl irritatedly.
Van Ghalta taps you on the shoulder, insisting that you turn around. “Wanna burn some midnight oil for me? I have plenty to spare.” He says.
“Will you just–” Then you catch the face he’s giving you. It’s dead serious, the kind that said they’re watching us. Midnight oil? Wait…is that where Antiwinter is? He gives you a smile and turns around quickly. The fact that Van Ghalta is a different person but always in every simulation is unnerving. But you’re sure he’s trying to tell you something.
You type off a new line to another chapter. At the heading, you type in: Chapter 15: Midnight Oil.
The Writer's Rack 