Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint Kindle Novels & Stories

The Reader stumbled backward. Their faceless hood twisted violently, body bending in impossible angles. “You’re not supposed to hesitate!” they gasped. Liora clutched the book to her chest. “Then maybe this isn’t the final chapter.” “You can’t stop what’s been written,” the Reader hissed. “You can’t outrun the ending!” The floor cracked beneath them, Not ground, But text, Pages of her life peeling apart like skin, And rising from between them, Was a figure made entirely of titles. No face, No features.

“Do you believe me when I say this is what we’ve been searching for?” He sighed. There was much conviction in his countenance, but he wasn’t fully convinced. “We can’t put all our trust in this. For all we know, the writer had a very vivid imagination.” “Yes, sure. He or she can also choose who their readers will be.” I pointed it out in a sarcastic tone. “You’re right, and we will have to examine the book and speak to the wise one.” He rose from the desk he’d been leaning on since I began reading the first book.

Third Person POV "Ladies and gentlemen! It saddens me in a joyful way that four people have now made it to the winner level, but we are still unable to choose. My goodness! It was as if their brains contained this world as a whole, and there was nothing that they didn't know, It was clearly impossible, yet it was happening here before our eyes. Our questions are running out, but goodness may have it, we are inquiring more and more questions, and how we will continue from now on is to ask, ask and ask till three drops out finally!"

"STOP. THE CHAPTER IS OVER-LENGTH. THE READERS ARE VOTING." The white beam froze. The Final Draft froze. A massive, transparent Voting UI appeared in the sky over London, visible to every soul in the Slums and every soldier in the Apex. [READER CHOICE: RE-WRITE OR REVOLUTION?] Elian looked at the screen, then at the frozen, perfect man who claimed to be his father. The "Billionaire Romance" had reached its ultimate meta-moment. The fate of the "Unwanted" was no longer in the hands of the characters, but in the hands of the Audience.

"And when the author writes specifically for a certain reader?" He set down his pen. He was weary of this game of euphemisms and metaphors. Or perhaps he was on the brink of capitulation. "The author gambles," he finally conceded. "Especially when the reader comprehends too much." She leaned in slightly. Her neckline now more exposed. The perfume — sweet and overpowering — filled the space between them. "Sometimes, comprehension is inevitable," she whispered. "Even when it's forbidden." Silence. Time seemed to stretch out, pressing against the two figures.

 ~AUTHOR'S POV~

Now that I knew of the author, it was time to see the content. I pulled over off the road and stopped the car. The visibility of the storm had increased, making it impossible for me to continue driving safely. So, instead, I opened the journal and started reading. My eyes skimmed the words, keeping in mind that I was potentially reading from the perspective of an unreliable narrator. And soon enough, I found myself enraptured by the scenes they were depicting. Human on human wars, pacts between humans and supernatural beings, werewolves, Kindred…Human Hunters.

My voice did not shake. The man tilted his head. He didn't have a face, just a shifting darkness where his features should be. "You can call me the Reader," he said. His voice sounded like paper rubbing together. "I am the one who pays for the ink. I am the one who decides if your story ends here or keeps going." Bryan stepped in front of me, his hand on his pistol. "He’s another code, Hazel. Don’t listen to him." The Reader laughed. It was a dry, thin sound. "A copy thinks he has a choice. How cute."

Please let me know in the comments do you want me to keep up with first person POV or I should use a third person pov Also if you’ve been enjoying this master piece do well to support my book thank you 🤭

Death looked toward the darkness. “For how long?” Noah answered: “Since the first thought.” Then a giant eye opened above them. Not like the Father’s. Not like the First Life’s. This eye was calm. Human. Almost familiar. Sophia stared at it. A voice spoke. “You have finally reached the end of the story.” Sophia raised her weapon. “Who are you?” The eye blinked. “The one reading it.” Everyone froze. The Observer continued: “And Sophia…” Its gaze fell upon her.