Create Instruments of Torture

I picked up an old typewriter, and the words I typed came true. Money, fame, good health, anything you can think of in the world, I can write about it. At that time, I really felt that I was the creator holding a magic pen, and I was so proud. But later I found out that the "good things" I wrote were all real things snatched from countless parallel worlds. I typed "recovery", and a stranger lay on the hospital bed for me; I typed "beloved", and a soul's life was wiped out. What's worse is that I have experienced their pain and despair all over again, exactly the same. Until today, the most perfect heroine I wrote came to my door. She stared at me, her eyes as cold as ice: "Mr. Author, are you ready? I will pay with my life for every word you write." PS: I am responsible for the big imagination, and you are responsible for reading without thinking. This novel and its characters are purely fictitious. Any similarity is purely coincidental and should not be imitated.