Ever Seen a Short Haired Villainess?

Chap 0

Disclaimer: I made this as I vented my anger towards OrV (can't move on from the ending) so some references are similar to orv, I swear this felt like a plagiarism 

-I think I understand Nirvana a little bit

Do you know that feeling? The feeling when you're knocking on death's door? Or did you feel familiar with the feeling or any vehicle that approaches you at a speed faster than a cheetah, then you feel all tense and just froze in the middle of wherever you're standing?  Great, mine's a train. Yeah, those locomotive trains that people still use in the Meiji era? I can't believe people still operate those, it's the Reiwa era people! Well, it's not like they can hear me now since I'm dead. It would be lucky if I possess the attribute <King of no killing> or <eight lives>.

I swear in the name of the buddhas, where in the world am I? Here's a short monologue:
darker than black, it feels like a place with no limits. I have been wandering for a few hours now, yet it feels like I have been heading the same place like a maze. In short, wandering somewhere yet nowhere. That's all, I don't want to make the length longer than this, you might get bored. Also, this feels wall-breaking. 

I have tried something after being here for a few hours. I once imagine a book with a fantasy theme, then the next thing, it was in my hands. It seems that whatever is in my head will be portrayed here. Then I imagine a person, it didn't work. then a whale, it still didn't work.  Then a daffodil, it didn't work again. It seems like this void doesn't accept any living things. So I imagine 2 things, a paper, and a house. The only thing that popped up is the paper. And then, I've experimented on this place. It was still boring.

Until now, I still don't quite get this place. There's this one time when I was busy reading, and there's this all high and mighty like voice sounding like an old man.
"Respect your elders, dear child! I have lived in this place far longer than you. You don't know anything about this place, you are far too early"
Now normally, normal people would be freaked out and scream something like "WHO-ARE YOU!?" honestly, that's too cowardly don't you think so? Even Kim Dokja would do better. So I asked the mysterious voice

"Ha?"

"Oh, you're rather a fearless one aren't you? I like humans your type. Ehem, anyways, I have been summoned here to give you a job"

Job? What kind of job?

"The job is simple" then he snaps his finger and there was a chair, table, paper, quill and ink.

"What am I suppose to do with this?" I asked the voice?

"Ohohoho, no one who meets me has ever said anything... They would just cower in fear and write anything in their minds. That is...to maintain their sanity. Very well, I shall tell you"

Wow, this guy is really a big mouth

"You can write anything, the void sees what the humans have been doing the first time they're here anyway. Looks like it knows that you're rather bored. Whatever you write there, it will record the words and then pops up a screen of your imagination."

Yea... I don't get what this guy is saying. But, sounds cool I guess.

"But why a quill?"

"Do you not know why? The void has been looking at you for a while now."

... The void?

"It can hear every beings thoughts and record it on the wall of samsara, deciding of which next life and existence you should take. And 'it' heard that you want to try writing with a quill"

I have heard of samsara, It generally means the repeating cycle of life and death. Something like reincarnation. Wish I didn't slack off when the teacher's talking

"Old man-like voice?"

"What do you want, child?"

"May I know your name?"

Suddenly, I can feel him grinning at me.

"Oh, you naive child, you shan't ask a deity their names, because all deities are existence with no name. Humans do call us with various names, humans do call me 'the sender of the void' "

"So...you're some kind of god?"

"I am an existence lower than a god, yet higher than any demon king"

Yep, I don't know what this old man is saying

"Fine, i'll call you gramps"

"A human surname!? I feel dissatisfied from your attitude. You shall never compare a mere human with the gods"

"Well, you don't have a name, what should I call you? The 'sender'? That sounds totally weird. Besides, you sound like my gramps anyway"

I don't know my connection with him, but I know he's furrowing his eyebrows. Then I can hear him sigh.

"Very well then, you've been granted a permission. I had enough, I'll be leaving. Farewell, dear child"

And then, I can't feel his presence anymore, that means I'm alone again, or if that's what I hoped for.

"Do you not know? The void has been looking at you for a while now"

Imagine someone saw you doing something and you're unaware of it. It feels like there's no more privacy here anymore. I pick up the quill, it's rather write something than just be a statue or a damsel in distress.

I dip the edge of the quill in the glass container filled with ink and start writing

[Prologue... ]

Usually, ideas would fall im my mind like a waterfall, but currently I have no idea today. I lean my back against the chair, my legs spread out. I could write my days inside this shell like void, but I absolutely did not do anything but a long monologue of darkness.

I realized that this place has no corners, grounds, nor ceilings. I don't walk, I float like a wandering spirit looking for its body. I don't get hungry, nor I get tired. It feels empty and it's a perfect paradise for loners like me.

I look at the scattered novels beside the chair and began picking them up. It's like a trail of food people use in the films to lead the victim into a trap set by the predator. It's silly.

As I pick it up, I also took it a rest and open each book. Page by page, I read them carefully. speaking of it, I have appear them, but never even took a glimpse of the content. When reading it, I feel absorbed into it. It feels like I'm in a different dimension and went inside the book.

After reading 1 book, I took another one.
Then 2...3...5...10...

I guess this place has no time limit. No hours, seconds, or even minutes. It's like no matter how you count the time, it doesn't even affect you or this place. I close the book I've read and went into the writing place.

I gently pick up the quill once again and start writing a sentence

[She was a nobody]

And another one

[But when she proves herself worthy]

And then another one

[She took advantage of the kingdoms downfall]

And I dropped my quill.