"Finally!" A voice shouted behind the man.
The man looked back and saw something. Yes, you read correctly. Something, not someone. Well, this thing was someone, but not in simple terms. Just looking at this thing alone made the man's head throb, but not in pain.
More so like how someone would stare at a math problem for minutes on end, going down every path and every equation. Erasing and going down a different path. Yet the answer you would get would not be the right one.
You followed the right equation you were either taught or even read about, yet no matter what you did. The answer always came out wrong and it would always be frustrating. Then you would just settle on the answer you have and say it is correct. Then you would move on, and several of them would come out correctly. But there would be a few that would just be like that previous question. The ones that you would spend so much time on and yet would always come out wrong. You knew it was wrong, yet you were still given the same answer.
The answer you were taught would always have a letter or even a symbol in it. Yet somehow in some way, your answer didn't have anything like that. Yet it was your only choice and you just had to accept it as right before moving on.
Then, once you were done, you were given a sheet back that told you what you got but never what was wrong. You wouldn't know if the questions you made were the right ones or not. Nor would you even know if the ones you thought were wrong were actually right. Putting you in a spiral of sorts. Making you feel so...
Frustrated.
That was how the man felt right now. He could see the figure wearing some kind of robe that covered everything but his face and six arms. Yes, six arms. He could see that the robes were brown, but at the same time, that didn't feel right. It had the appearance of brown, yet it felt so wrong calling it that.
Its eyes were numerous, yet felt solid. If that was the right word to call it. Its blue eyes blinked at different intervals, yet in a pattern that made it seem "normal." Then that single smile on its face with its white teeth. Its place and shape were correct, yet it just felt so off. As if it wasn't meant to be there.
Then there was its skin. You can see that it's old and wrinkly, as if it belonged to an old person. But the way they moved and the way the thing stood made it appear so young. In one of its hands was a book of sorts, and in the remaining five were quills of different shapes and sizes. Some were too big for human hands, yet being held as though they were normal. Some are normal, but are being held as though they were too small. Then some were so small that they were hard to see, yet they were held as though they were too big.
It was so frustrating to look at.
It was a headache-inducing thing to stare at.
Yet, the man couldn't look away. How could he when something so frustrating was right in front of him. Like how there is a puzzle one piece away, and you just have to find the missing piece.
He just had to figure out why it looked so wrong.
He had to figure out what this thing actually looked like.
He had to know!
"I am so happy you finally put on those glasses," the being said, their smile widening. One of their hands dropped the quilt it was holding, and it flew up. Like that of a string to a balloon being released from the hand of a child.
"I really was afraid you would die before you could enjoy your second life," the being said as the free hand clasped the shoulder of the man. Suddenly, the man felt light, as though every burden had been lifted from his body. The headache and frustration melted away in an instant.
"There we go, that should help your mind against my existence. Now try not to become one of my believers, or do. I don't mind which you choose," the being said as it chuckled at its own joke.
The man just stared at the being for a bit and opened his mouth.
"Now, before you ask any questions, first off, let me introduce myself," the being said as it lifted one of its fingers to shush him. It then bowed as a performer would bow to an audience.
"My name is the Storyteller. A name given to me by my comrades and followers. I am a God, and no, I don't mean "what you would call a God." I am an actual God although I am not the God of this world. In fact, I don't think this world has any Gods and if it does then they are hiding very well" the being said as it straightened itself back up and rubbed its chin, babbiling on for a few moments before coming to.
"What am I the God of? Well, I am the God of many things, but the primary worship from my followers is Stories. More so in the fact that I am a God who loves to read stories from the different worlds that exist and no longer exist," the being said as it snapped its fingers. The floating quill came back down, and a seventh hand formed as it gripped the quill in its fingers and began to write into the book.
"Though, if I am honest, that title doesn't really suit me. I prefer writing stories that I see with my very own eyes and sharing them with everyone. I love writing and seeing the reactions of my followers, seeing if they would be happy or even angry at my creations," the being said as it finished writing whatever it was writing into its books. With a loud thud, the being closed the book.
"Now that I have introduced myself, shall we begin with you? I am sure you have many questions to ask me, from why you are here and how you got here to even the most important question of all. Who are you?" The Storyteller said, bringing the book up to its mouth to hide its smile.
The man stood still for a few moments before speaking, "what do you mean by 'who are you?'"
The Storyteller just chuckled at that, "well that and the other two questions can be answered if we went back in time a bit."
The Storyteller smacked its lips from behind the book, "to start us off in the tale of three answers. We must first go back to one point and that would be how we met."
The man's eyes went wide as he felt his own heart stop for a moment.
"Yes, we have met before. Though I would say our point of meeting was... unorthodox," the Storyteller said as it lowered the book back down, "usually how two people meet is by bumping into each other at a store, going to the same school, or even just talking online. But how we met was quite strange."
The being moved closer to the man. Its face inches away from his own, "you see, we met when you had just died."