As the last shred of light descended over the horizon, the world plunged into eternal darkness, leaving only one person standing on the earth.

A girl stood alone, dark hair that matched the empty sky cascading around her shoulders. She had only two things in her hands, a notebook and a pen.

As the ink splashed the crisp white surface of the paper, the sky tore into two and light descended upon the earth. Each word that the girl wrote filled the silence with sound, filled the emptiness with color, filled the sorrow with peace.

As she restored the broken shards of the world, the darkest form of evil rose up from a rift between creativity and determination. It reeked of doubt, of procrastination, of fear. 

"Writers Block," the girl growled, her words echoing against the walls of her imagination. 

"You knew I would come," the creature hissed. 

The girl narrowed her eyes, tightening her fingers around her weapon. She raised the pen at the beast, resolve hardening her features. "Perhaps. But I've fought you before."

Writers Block smiled. 

The girl leaped forward through the shriveling light that cowered away from the darkness, pen raised above her head. Within a second the dark force pushed her back down against the surface of the earth, knocking the air from her body. 

She struggled to her feet and raised the weapon again, and Writers Block's smile widened. "Attack me," it whispered silkily. "Go ahead."

The girl hesitated, before lowering her weapon. "No."

Writers Block's smile fell away. "What?"

"I can't fight you," the girl said. "But I can destroy you."

As her pen struck the paper, the creature let out a scream that split the sky. It began to overflow with light so bright no darkness could touch it, dancing stars and infinite suns.

Writers Block began to disintegrate, its shrieks piercing the air in hollow gasps. "WHAT ARE YOU?" It demanded.
 The girl twirled the pen in her fingers and smiled, her eyes glinting in the sunlight. "I'm a writer."