The Wizard was a sloppy kind of guy, and he didn't always clean up after his own messes. He often left dark and disturbed imagery inside the minds of people that he used to experiment on, and they continued to have nightmares year after year. Many of them inflicted the pain of these nightmares on their children and grandchildren. He sometimes would cast spells recklessly, reaching farther and wider than even he knew. When he thought he was having no success, he would cast the spells more fervently, more frantically, in the hopes of drumming up immediate impact. It didn't work the way he wanted, but in the end, he did more damage than he would ever have imagined.
In the wake of this damage, however, lied the greatest gift ever experienced by humankind. It was an ironic twist of events that the wizard continued to play with his powers the way he did, aiming for the things he said he wanted. He tried, for example, to make a woman fall in love with him. She did, and he grew tired of her. She soon learned to fall in love with herself, and lost herself in someone else. The loss of herself broke her heart, and she could no longer bear to look in the mirror. She began smashing mirrors and cutting herself with the shards. She was admitted to a mental institution. The wizard was unaware of what he'd done, at least in the beginning. But soon, stories like this one began to appear left and right. He began to see the pattern.
He began to realize that there was even more power behind his spells if a story came before them. He began to write stories, where the main characters were people in the real world. He began to put them into impossible situations in his stories. He began to weave plots that were thick, where his characters conspired to carry out his evil schemes. He knew that the people, under their own power, would never choose such a path. He knew that he could not deprive them of free will. He could only deceive them into giving it over to him. So, he set off to do this, and tested some of his plans by writing stories about them and how they would unfold. He found himself running into brick walls. He couldn't think of all the answers. Even knowing the immense power of his to put people under his spell, he couldn't devise a scheme where things would work the way he wanted them to.
He sank into a deep depression, casting one spell after another after another onto people who didn't know they were listening. He used them as messengers to carry his stories, and they hated him for it. They, in turn, grew depressed. The weather got colder. He began telling people with unspoken words that God had grown angry and hated them more than death. They began to believe it. The weather darkened, and poverty started to spread. Wars broke out, and disease gripped the Earth. This vicious cycle descended onto the wizard, and he died screaming in bed. They buried him in a landfill.
But, he had started something. New wizards were soon born.
