A story about a frustrated writer who keeps on deleting her stories on Wattpad. One day, those deleted stories started hunting her under the name of Null.

With the help of her friends, will she be able to escape this dark brink?

What? (SB19 X OC Story)

Author's Note

6/100%

7/100%

Stell

Nami

Pablo

Josh

Justin

Null

Author

Shevi

Nami's Mom

Christy

Five minutes have passed but Null still hasn't replied.

Just three minutes and the deadline for the task will end.

I know I won't be able to finish the task, but I don't want Stell to suffer.

My phone vibrated and I saw on the notification that Null had replied. I plucked up the courage to read it.

Null approved Third's request. Third must do three tasks to switch the punishment before the deadline.

First task: Run to the nearest pedestrian lane.

I just shook my head and followed. But before I could even leave the computer shop, I ran into Josh.

"Oh, Nami. Where are you going? Are you done?"

I just nodded at him and ran outside. I didn't have time. Only two minutes.

I ran to the convenience store because there was a pedestrian lane there. There were many cars passing by but I just ignored them...

Second task: Throw away anything that gives your identity like IDs.

Tsk. So many arts. I don't have an ID with me.

Ah, I'm wearing my org shirt. It has my name on the back. Good thing I have a double shirt.

I took off my t-shirt and threw it into the dump truck that stopped in front of me because it was running a red light.

I threw my phone into the dump truck as it drove away because the light was green.

"I hate you Null! I hate you! I hate you! I hate---" I couldn't continue shouting.

My attention turned to the child on the other side of the pedestrian lane.

My eyes widened when the child ran across the pedestrian lane because he was chasing the pencil he dropped.

I didn't know it, but I suddenly realized I was running towards the child. I immediately pushed the child back to the side.

I could only hear the screeches of the tires and the sound of broken glasses.

All I heard was screaming but I couldn't understand anything. I tried to move but I couldn't.

I just kept staring at the pencil that the boy had been chasing, now bathed in my blood.

I raised my eyes and saw the stance of a man wearing a face mask and cap.

He walked away as my vision gradually darkened.

Third task: Save the child from the accident.

You are now entering the dark brink of Wattpad 2.0. Escape is futile. Reviving is the key.