I just woke up, the sun was shining everything was great. I checked my hands if anything was out of place, and there wasn't. I ran through the corridor in my house and passed through a room where my sibling are, they seem to be playing minecraft. I ran downstairs, looking for my book called The Painted Man, when I suddenly heard screams and creeper sounds. I expected that someone just used a creeper to blow something up. After a couple minutes, I found my book and headed upstairs. Before stepping on the first step, I heard all of them scream and an Enderman sound. I chuckled as I passed the room, I looked at the room once again and saw their chairs just spinning, but they weren't there. I saw a blocky hand out of one of the screens, and just grabbed it. The next thing I knew it, I was in minecraft.
After being teleported in the game, I looked at myself if I was blocky in anyway, but I wasn't, I was still me. I then saw a sign with a riddle on it. Your sibling are in a biome of cold
And the one alone is the more old
For planks of oak you may see
When you find them, happy you will be
I was very confused, I didn't know what it meant (I know it sounds pretty basic...But screw it) I roamed around thinking "why would such a thing happen" I also simply knew, it takes me forever to do these kinda things. I sighed as I collected some wood, surprisingly it didn't hurt, I always wanted to collect wood like this. I smiled as I thought of the poem "Biome of cold?" I asked myself, I had a choice, was it Tundra or Taiga. I ended up walking over to the Taiga biome, and Jesus Christ it was freezing over there. I saw a couple of cows and said "Leather...Leather could keep me warm" I made a crafting table, I don't know how, but I did. I made myself a wooden sword and killed some cows and three sheep. By the time I was done murdering cows, I had full Leather armor which kept me warm and a bed as an entity in my pocket. It was getting dark, I didn't want to think what could happen to them, so I went underground and cover the entrances, I placed my bed down and fell asleep.
The next morning, a sign was there when I surfaced. It had a different riddle. As you get close, you feel slight shivers
But to get there you have to kill a creature that drops something that shimmers
For a frame of twelve you will need to find
And you will be as happy as a divine
Again, I still don't know what any of this means, but as I looked up, I saw little bits of black smoke, which seems to come from fire. I tried to run, but I was hungry, and the game wouldn't let me. I felt stupid for not cooking the meat I got from those cows. I sighed as I ate raw beef, I was almost there. I could see the wooden house that was producing smoke. I knocked on the door and screamed "Please! Who ever you are, I need help!" I was so glad that my older brother Aaron opened the door. I looked at him as I asked "Aaron?" His smile appeared and said "Matt...Is it really you" I smiled as he gestured for me to come in "In the flesh" I said as I walked in "Do you know what happened to the others?" I asked quite depressed, he then looked at me and said "I wish I knew...I was getting some food...When they just suddenly disappeared" he said, about to cry.
Me:"well I've been given so many riddles...That I couldn't understand
Aaron:"Yeah...I encountered one which said" "For blocks of black can be found with red water"
"The heat as they change can be less Intenser"
"For a drop of gravel you may need"
"and a white drop from a chicken you may heed"
"Construct the frame and kill the monster of flame"
"which can be found in a fortress that was claimed"
"When you finish, leave the realm and create the eyes"
"but hurry up, because time always flies"
Me:"Sounds difficult"
Aaron:"I got the blocks of black...which is obsidian"
Me:"We have to make a nether portal"
Aaron:"Alright...Lets split up and find the stuff"
After that he gave me Iron Armor and an Iron sword. we ran out and started collecting the items. As sunset arrives we arrived back at the house and crafted a flint and steel. We built the frame and lit the portal, we jumped in at the same time and immedietly we saw a nether fortress. We dived in and killed so many wither skeletons. We then arrived at a blaze spawner, and killed blazes. After getting 7 blaze rods each, we destroyed the spawner and headed back. When we arrived back at the house, there was a chest with a sigh over it saying "use it wisely" I opened it and there were 16 ender pearls. I then asked my brother what to do with these, he then said "I don't know...Maybe eye of enders....But I don't know how to make them" After hours of trying, we did it. We made about 21 eye of enders, we were throwing them while trying to find the end portal. After an hour we started digging down, we were almost there. Then I saw cracked stone bricks, and mined it. I fell and took some pain, but I didn't mind it. I saw another sign and read it. You have made it this far
Now all you have to do is have a small spar
The winged black death is upon you
To save your family you must be forever true
I was slowly understanding what it meant, me and Aaron jumped in the portal and saw our other siblings. My older sister Megan, my younger brother Josh, and my little sister Bella. I was heading there to untie them, but I heard a roar which frightened the living day lights out of me. Aaron started shooting the crystals, while I shoot the dragon. It barreled towards me, so I rolled to the side and dodged it's attack. It roar in anger and turned around, Aaron then screamed "I GOT THEM!" the dragon then looked at him and barreled towards him. After a few seconds he got pushed back 16 blocks, and he was hurt. He drank a potion and kept fighting. After 30 minutes of fighting, I shot an arrow and hit it on the head. It then started exploding and slowly died. Then it rained down little colored orbs and made the portal home. I cut my sibling loose as we jumped back to the portal. Once we got home, we shut off the computers and I said "We must never speak of this to mum or dad at all" they nodded and resumed back to their normal lives.
The youngest sister was brave and stood up against it. She used the power of the dragons' blessing to seal it away, but because of this, she disappeared into thin air. Since then, nobody-"
"Ashen!" called a male voice. "Are you reading that book again to yourself?"
"Dav, what's wrong with it? I'm interested in what happened back then. It's definately more interesting than staying in this... boring village all day."
******************************
Ashen, Dav and Laney were three friends. They lived in a small village far away from everybody else. They each had a small house, with a bed, chest, furnace and a few others in each one. Ashen's had a bookcase. They
rarely left the village, and Ashen had never left. They grew their own food and had a stable for the three horses. Ashen's was a light brown one she named Epona.
Later that night, Ashen heard a noise outside. She threw open her door and saw a blinding light. "Ashen, you must leave. A dangerous creature has escaped its prision. You must gather the three dragon eggs, head to the Temple
of Time in Castle Town, imprision the great creature and find out who you really are. The Great Deku Tree will tell you more. He resides in the temple far in the desert now. Go now, and be brave."
"Wait! I have-" Ashen started, but it was too late. Dav and Laney came rushing out of their houses. "I'm sorry, but I must leave. I have a journey to go on." Ashen told them as she mounted
Epona. As she was on the path to the desert, she heard two other horses.
"We're not leaving without you!" the other two Minecraftians said as they started their journey.
******************************
After what felt like forever, the three friends arrived at the temple. Ashen ran upstairs to find the Great Deku Tree. "Great Deku Tree, I was sent here to find you." Ashen said with great happiness.
"Yes, I was told you would come to me. We do not have much time. You will find the first deep in an underground safe out here in this desert. You will find the second in the Great Hall of the North. The final one is in the ruins deep
in a jungle city. Go now, Ashen. Find who you truly are. When you have the three eggs, return to me and I will send you to the Castle of the Three Sisters."
"Got it. Come on, Dav and Laney! We'll go find those eggs!" Ashen yelled. She knew she would find them.
******************************
Ashen was getting tired of walking when she saw a girl about her age. "Hey!" she called out.
"Ah don't think ah've ya 'round here before." the strange girl said.
"No. I don't get out much. Have you seen a dragon egg around here?"
The girl started shaking. "Uh, er, no. I mean yeah. Uh, not that ah have relation to it. Follow me." Ashen followed her. A few minutes later, they reached an opening. "Here ya go. Don't excpect me goin' down there. Spiders. Ah
hate them. Just follow the staircase." the girl shivered.
"Thank you!" Ashen said, running down the stairs. At the end of the path, she saw an exit to the outside. It looked like a small temple with a deep pit below it.
"Don't be scared," Ashen heard a familliar voice. "I'm tired of doing that stupid accent. My name is Fae. I'm a Dragon Sage. Please, take the egg."
"Thank you. I will protect it and save this world!" Ashen, Dav and Laney headed off for the cold north.
"Long long ago, when Minecraftia was just a barren wasteland, three dragons descended from the skies. They blessed the land with their powers and created a powerful race known as the Minecraftians. Before disappearing,
they left three eggs with three dragon sages. They also apppointed three sisters to be the queens of the land to keep order. When they left, an ancient evil known as the Wither escaped from below the surface of Minecraftia.
The youngest sister was brave and stood up against it. She used the power of the dragons' blessing to seal it away, but because of this, she disappeared into thin air. Since then, nobody-"
"Ashen!" called a male voice. "Are you reading that book again to yourself?"
"Dav, what's wrong with it? I'm interested in what happened back then. It's definately more interesting than staying in this... boring village all day."
******************************
As they reached the cold north, they saw an abandoned castle. "I wonder what it was used for." Laney wondered. They soon passed a second castle. It had started snowing, so they needed a place to stay. They heard someone
crying when they entered.
"Hello?" Ashen said.
"AHHHHHHH!" another girl said, running to the door. "Who are you?"
"I'm looking for a dragon egg."
"I know where it is. In fact, I was just headed to the Great Hall. Would you like to join me?"
"Sure. But why were you crying?"
"I'm tired of everyone calling me Queen. I'm not even the real queen, just someone chosen to rule when our kingdom fell apart."
"I'm sorry." the four walked towards the hall.
"By the way, my name's Lana." said the queen. "The Great Hall was carved from the mountain. It is also the only access to the jungle. It's really beautiful." Ashen was shocked at how magnificent it was. Colorful, intracite, she
loved being there. They followed Lana down the stairs. "Down here is the vault. Go on ahead, the dragon egg is in front of you. I am one of the Dragon Sages, so I wish for you to obtain it. Please, take care of it."
"I will" Ashen replied. They went upstairs and went down the hallway.
"Down there is the entrance to the Jungle. Be safe!" Lana called out to her new friends.
"Long long ago, when Minecraftia was just a barren wasteland, three dragons descended from the skies. They blessed the land with their powers and created a powerful race known as the Minecraftians. Before disappearing,
they left three eggs with three dragon sages. They also apppointed three sisters to be the queens of the land to keep order. When they left, an ancient evil known as the Wither escaped from below the surface of Minecraftia.
The youngest sister was brave and stood up against it. She used the power of the dragons' blessing to seal it away, but because of this, she disappeared into thin air. Since then, nobody-"
"Ashen!" called a male voice. "Are you reading that book again to yourself?"
"Dav, what's wrong with it? I'm interested in what happened back then. It's definately more interesting than staying in this... boring village all day."
******************************
"It sure is nice here" Laney said about the jungle. It was really sunny there. They took a railway to the jungle city. However, when it reached its destination, there was only one person.
"My name's Ryan. Please, hurry. I am a Dragon Sage. My egg was in the temple, but it... it attacked. I had to hide it. Please, follow me down this path." And so the four walked down a path, spreading across many islands.
"Here's the temple" It was ruined. They walked to the basement and Ryan retrieved it. "Here you go. I can return you the Great Deku Tree." Ryan brought up.
"That would be wonderful. Thank you for your help." Ashen said as Ryan said some words and the trio appeared back at the Deku Tree's temple.
******************************
"Ashen, you must do this alone. Dav, Laney, you will see her soon." The Great Deku Tree said. "Ashen, are you ready?"
"Yep." Ashen said. She closed her eyes and reopened them at the Temple of Time. She went inside and placed the three dragon eggs down. A door opened in front of her, and she drew the Sword of Time. She noticed everything
changing around her. "What's going on!?" she cried.
"Young sister, do not be afraid. You are going into the past to imprision the Wither. Let the powers of the dragons guide you..." Ashen saw the same light she saw a few nights ago that started her on this journey. She followed a dirt
path in this new barren wasteland and found a giant, death black creature with three heads. It hissed at her.
"Young Dragon Queen, have you returned to put an end to me? Return me to my prision? If so, you're foolish." it said, sending skeletons that looked like the Wither. Ashen fought them off.
"I don't know what you mean, but with this sword, I will imprision you!" she said. She stabbed it through its chest, relizing something. She had the power to imprision it.
"No... NO! My plans are foiled! You will pay one day! YOU WILL PAY!" it said, fading into mist.
"Thank you little sister. We have one more request." Two beautifully dressed girls appeared. "Will you return as the lost Dragon Queen?"
******************************
A few days later, Dev and Lana found out that their best friend was the lost Dragon Queen. Over time, they got to live in the castle of the Dragon Sisters. Many years passed, and Ashen returned the dragon eggs to their rightful
places and guardians. Ashen also found out one more thing: Even thoguh you may be important, you can never lose friendships.
"All... most... finished..." Jack said, panting loudly. He missed the terrain generation of old Minecraftia, and wished he could see the bright green grass once again.
"RUFF! RUFF! RUFF!" barked Rowdy, wanting attention. He hasn't really gotten his daily petting/color dying since Jack started making, well, whatever the heck he was making!
"****! THAT WAS THE MOST IMPORTANT PIECE! And now its broken," Jack exclaimed. The super-atomic-desembler-then-transport-and-reassemble do-hicky was broken. The super-atomic-desembler-then-transport-and-reassemble do-hicky was also extremely expensive too! Jack had to save up his money for 15 years before he could start this project, longing to see the old, bright grass of Minecraftia. "Sigh..."
Rowdy whined, realizing he caused something to go wrong. But what did he do? He wanted to help fix this mess!
After stalking and listening to his masters muttering at night, he learned what Jack wanted! To see the old generation of Minecraftia and all the bright colors. And so, Rowdy had his first go at modifying reality. Rowdy struggled to do so. He has never programmed before, so he had to completely learn Java from scratch!
He didn't even know what RME (Reality Modding Environment) to use to make his modifications work! He was confused. How did the physics of Minecraftia build its own world long ago? And even before that, he didn't even know how to type! But he did it.
Rowdy left a page open in Word saying what he has done, "Jack, I went through all this for you! I learned to type and program in Java so you could have the old terrain generation back! Sadly, you can't go back in time, but this is the best I could do."
One. The wind swept by her face, and she ran. She kept running. Away from everything. The branches clawed at her face and her legs, and she kept going, her red cheeks and tear streaked face bleak and hopeless.
Two. She looked back, and she saw black. The absence of color, looking for her. Trying to capture her. She couldn’t breathe very well, the wind slipped past her too fast, playing with her. An unfriendly game.
Three. It grabbed at her ankles and slipped into her skin and chilled her bones. She felt cold. Her teeth chattered and her vision became blurred every few moments, shifting in uneven waves that vibrated annoyingly in her throat.
Four. She was almost there, to wherever there was. It was climbing up her legs, and she couldn’t feel her knees anymore, but she kept running. How, she did not, but she knew she had to keep going. She had to.
Five. She could see it. It was crawling, wrapping itself around her waist, and she was left with her head and her upper torso, and she did not want to run anymore. She never did. She had to. An end would come either way, there is hope.
Six. The color kaleidoscope path was right ahead, if she could just reach her past, she might be able to make it. Fix her life, fix her. It was crawling up her chest and her hands. She shook and struggled, the grass grabbing her legs in which she could no longer feel. She saw herself ahead. She might make it.
Seven. She could see her windblown hair and the small features of her face and she was only a few hours away.
Eight. She could see the autumn trees in the background and the sun against her skin. She was only an hour away. She reached out her hand, but she felt none, and she only felt her head, her neck and her hair, blowing wildly against her pale skin.
Nine. She saw the shadow and the light, and she could tell the difference. She was only a minute away, she would make it. She could save herself and she could save him. Her. Him. The black wrapped itself around her neck and she couldn’t breathe. She could only feel her face and the skin around it.
Ten. A second away, this was the worst. Her face was fading away and the black was seeping into her heart and her blood. White. Against black. She was almost there. She fell and the black took over her, and she disappeared into the Nowhere.
Or perhaps the Somewhere. She had so wanted to save him. To save her. They were apart, on the other sides, opposite sides of the Nowhere and the Somewhere. They were just there.
In the past, she sat on the park bench. Surrounded by the autumn leaves and the sun, a hand over her shoulder. His windswept hair, brown and gold, and his blue eyes. Her brown hair and her green eyes. Then he came.
There was a loud BAM! and a bullet was shot. He fell on to the ground, confused and hurting. His heart, his chest, it had flew right through it. She was too late, and another BAM! was heard. Lying on the ground, that was their last minute, and they held their hands tight and they closed their eyes.
She was surrounded by the black and he was surrounded by the white. Lost in time, trying to run to the past. A second more, and she would’ve fixed it. No, it was too late.
On the front page of the newspaper that day, in the past, said: LOCAL GIRL AND BOY SHOT AT PARK. That was the end of it.
With it, did the last grain of their minute glass fall, and it was done.
“Checkmate.” The man in the silver suit lifted the minute white marble figurine depicting a queen in a flowing robe and placed it softly on an unassuming black tile three rows away. He smiled slightly, and leaned back in his armchair. Across from him, the man in the black suit’s eyes flitted across the remaining pieces on the chessboard. A white knight, six white pawns, a white bishop and the white king against four black pawns, a black rook, a black bishop, the black king and the elegant black queen. He set his fingertip on the intricate white marble crown that distinguished his king from his lowly pawns, and tried to think of a scenario where he wasn’t cornered. The black queen stopped his horizontal advance, and a black rook stopped him vertically. He could shift his white king sideways but depending on his chosen square a bishop and a pawn would be ready to meet his advance. After a long silence, he, too, leaned back in his armchair and threw up his hands.
“Well done.” he said cordially in his usual soft, purring German accent, his voice calm even as his eyes continued to flick rapidly from piece to piece, trying to determine what he might have done differently to win. The man in the silver suit chuckled softly. They were both sitting in large, comfortable-looking red velvet armchairs on opposite sides of a large dark brown oak wood table. On the table sat a large, ornate chessboard made of black and white marble and a series of elaborately sculpted marble chess pieces. They sat in a large room with walls made of the same dark brown wood and a floor carpeted with a rich crimson satin rug. A large fireplace made of dark gray stone sat next to the table and armchairs and a blazing orange fire within it cast long tendrils of shadow across the room.
The man in the armchair to the right of the table wore a suit made of silver silk and a black bowtie. His cuffs were white and studded with simple gold cufflinks, and his pants were made of a rich black wool. He appeared to be in his late fifties, and had combed black hair streaked with silver and a silver beard. His smile revealed a row of polished white teeth. His eyes were a bright brown and shone with the spark of vast wisdom. He sat upright again and began to gather the chess pieces, placing them neatly back in their initial positions with a calculated meticulousness. “Are you really that surprised, Karl?” he asked without looking up at the other man. He gave another small laugh. “I’ve played the game for some thirty years now. And even if I hadn’t I can always read you like the back of my hand. How could I not win?”
“I suppose you’re right. Chess is an old man’s game.” said the man in the armchair to the left of the table, eliciting another laugh from his companion. Karl wore a suit made of black silk, and a bright crimson bowtie. His cuffs, too, were white, though his cufflinks were silver instead of gold and had the sheen that came only with recent purchase. His pants were black and striped with silver. He appeared to be in his late twenties, and had combed black hair that he had gelled in place and a short black beard. His eyes, too, were a bright brown, but unlike his companion his contained not wisdom but a blazing, fiery ambition. He sat up and spoke again. “Well, it has been a pleasure playing with you. However the night is becoming quite late, and I would suggest we proceed to opening a bottle of wine and discussing anything you’d like to discuss, if that’s alright with you?”
“Of course.” said the man in the silver suit. Karl nodded.
“Leon!” he called into the hall beyond the doorway. “Would you bring the Bavarian Wine?” In a few minutes a sharply dressed man in a white doublet and black pants hurried through the door, holding a silver tray. He had brown hair and looked to be in his early twenties. He smiled eagerly at Karl and the man in the silver suit before setting the tray down on the table. Sitting placidly on it’s shimmering metallic surface were two thin crystal wine glasses and a bottle of wine with a large brown cork. Karl picked up a wineglass and set it on his side of the chessboard, and motioned for the man in the silver suit to do the same. With one swift flick of his hand, Leon drew a small silver corkscrew from his pocket and unscrewed the cork, allowing it to fall into his open hand. Then, he picked up the wine bottle and poured a sparkling, foamy red wine into each of their glasses.
When he was finished, he picked up the silver tray again and looked expectantly at Karl. “Can I fetch you and your guest anything else, Master Wulff?”
“No, I think that’ll be all. Thank you Leon.” said Karl. Leon continued to smile at both of them and bowed shortly before returning to the hallway outside of the room. Once he was gone, the man in the silver suit flashed Karl an amused smile. Karl shrugged. “The estate needs servants if it’s going to be properly maintained. Leon’s not a bad fellow, just a bit tight in the collar for my tastes.” Karl paused to take a sip of the wine. He set the wine glass down and seemed to silently contemplate the quality of the wine before speaking again. “Marvelous, no? I hand picked it from perhaps a dozen samples at the vineyard. I’m told it’s from the person wine cellar of a Bavarian nobleman, a duke or a count I think. Costly, but what is wealth if not a means toward luxury?” At this the man in the silver suit burst into laughter. Karl looked at him cynically, confused and slightly indignant. “What’s so funny?” he asked.
“Which memoir did you read that one in?” asked the man in the silver suit between short chuckles. “Honestly Karl, if nothing else, you make an incredibly amusing millionaire.” Karl grinned sheepishly.
“Can you blame me?” he asked. “Ever since last month it’s all been a whirlwind of nice clothes and seaside estates and . I’m drunk on wine half the time and drunk on power the other half.” He tipped back his head and smiled, as though savoring the wealth. After a few moments of silence he turned to the man in the silver suit and smiled at him slyly. “I’m sure you can relate.”
“Yes, I can. But you’ve seen nothing yet. I can tell you Karl, there is very little that a man cannot enjoy in this world with a hundred million Euros at his beck and call.” At this Karl’s eyes widened suddenly and he nearly spit out his wine.
“A hundred million?” he managed to gasp after sputtering for a few seconds. “You turned five million Euros into a hundred million?”
“You didn’t really think this was it, did you? This little estate, a few servants? This is only the beginning.” The man in the silver suit spread his arms wide in a grand gesture and smiled at Karl. “But I didn’t expect you to think that far ahead, at least not yet. You have ambition, Karl, but not drive.” He picked up a small white marble pawn from the chessboard in his left hand and focused on it, his eyes widened in contemplation. He stroked it’s chiseled helm with his finger. “What is the difference between this pawn, one of twenty on the board, completely expendable, and the white king?”
Karl looked at him, puzzled. “Well, if a pawn dies the game goes on. If the king dies the game is over.”
“Yes.” said the man in the silver suit. “But both can die, eventually. Both are men. Neither is immortal, neither fully in control of their own destiny. One wears a crown and the other a helmet, but at the end of the day there is only one real difference between the two. A pawn is nearly useless, a simple foot soldier, a life of little weight on the battlefield, endlessly able to sacrifice its own life with little cost if it will hurt the enemy. A king needs to live, a king must live. A king has the weight of the game on his shoulders. Therefore, when a player acts as a pawn, their desire to survive extends only as far as the limited usefulness of the pawn’s life. When a player acts as a king, their desire to survive extends as far as they value winning the game. A player acting as a pawn has almost no drive, while a player acting as a king has infinite drive. Infinite will to succeed. Something I, and, in another life, you, created for ourselves.”
“But you don’t have the drive I had once. You have a different drive, bred of different emotions. You don’t know what it’s like to work in a dead end job for thirty years in a gray cubicle on the fourth floor of some godforsaken office building in Bavaria. You haven’t been embittered by being passed up for a promotion for the fourth time because your boss simply can’t be bothered, come home to a dusty apartment full of half-finished notes and old furniture that you can’t afford to replace, have your heart broken by that Viola you’re always talking about because ‘you’re a really nice guy, but the relationship isn’t going anywhere’.” As he spoke the man’s voice became steadily louder, and his hand began to tremble slightly. Realizing he was losing his composure, he took a deep breath and turned to Karl with a final frosted gaze. “But thanks to you and me, you won’t need to. We’ve saved you from that Karl. Thirty years of tinkering madly in that apartment by the light of a single dim bulb has saved you from that. And now, finally, we can turn to pursuing what ultimately drives us: the hope of creating a brighter, greater future for you and me.”
“One has a lot of time to think in thirty years of near-complete isolation from the outside world.” continued the man in the silver suit. “I kept myself updated on finances, stocks, rising companies. There are ways to turn nothing into five million Euros, as you have, and then turn five million into ten or twenty, or a hundred or a thousand. I have a path for you, Karl, a path of investments and business deals that will, in the end, work very prosperously for both of us. But I am, quite literally, getting ahead of myself. These are discussions to be had another time. The night really is getting late, and I should be on my way soon. For now, I want you to enjoy yourself. You, and I, have earned it.”
“I am.” said Karl, shortly. “I had no idea what you sacrificed to make this happen. You have my thanks, of course.”
“And I accept them. But don’t feel sorry for me.” said the man in the silver suit. “Those sacrifices will soon be entirely made up for. I have only your best interests at heart, Karl. Think nothing of it. You would have done the same for me.” Suddenly, he drew an object from his pocket and brought it to his eyes. In the light of the fire, Karl saw it was a thin silver pocket watch with a long silver chain that wound down and disappeared into the man’s pocket. The man in the silver suit stared at the glass surface of the timepiece for a few moments before looking back at Karl and speaking again. “It is late, Karl. I should be going soon. It has been a pleasure meeting you. Before I go, however, there is one thing I would like to see, if you would be fine with it.”
“Anything.” said Karl.
“Could I see the ticket. One more time?”
“Of course.” said Karl, fumbling in the pocket of his black pants until he found a small, slightly torn piece of paper, about the size of cinema ticket. He held it up to the light of the fire, now reduced to a few sparks and embers, and held it out to the man in the silver suit. It was red, and bore the black, gaudy designs of a casino at it’s edges. Printed on it’s surface were five numbers in a simple black font: 8, 19, 26, 38 and 57. The other man took it slowly, as though he were afraid it was not entirely real and would shatter at his touch. When he gazed upon it his eyes began to fill with the spark of nostalgia, and a thin smile crossed his lips, as though he were seeing a long-lost friend again after years apart. Karl watched his silent reverie curiously. “I kept it with me, of course. Somehow, I don’t think I could ever get rid of it. It’s like a good luck charm, I suppose.”
“Neither do I.” said the other man. He reached into the same pocket he had pulled the pocket watch out of, and withdrew a small object. He set it on the table, and set the other ticket next to it. It was the same ticket, a bright red with black designs and writing, though much more worn and tarnished. On it were printed the same five numbers: 8, 19, 26, 38 and 57. The man in the silver suit smiled again, and laughed. “I’ve kept it with me all these years. To bring good luck, yes. But also to remind me that I am the master of my own destiny. Five numbers. Just five simple numbers made it all happen. Five numbers on a red lottery ticket.” He laughed again, and turned his gaze to the fire.
He handed the red ticket back to Karl. “It really is time for me to be going.” he said, checking his pocket watch. He looked at the silver pocket watch closely, and began to turn the small silver dials on it’s side with precise, methodical motions of his fingers. He left only a large circular piston on the side unchanged. “I should return to my own time now. We will meet again, and there will be specifics to discuss. But for now, Karl, I want you to have some fun. Go out, enjoy life. Tell Viola a mutual friend said hello. Go out, take her somewhere nice. Berlin maybe, or Paris or Geneva or anywhere you like. And know that I’m proud of you.”
“Thank you.” said Karl, with a short smile. “I eagerly await our next meeting.” He raised his wine glass. “Cheers, Mr. Wulff.”
The man in the silver suit pressed the large piston, and, almost immediately, small silver sparks began to fly out of the silver pocket watch. The flew around him, becoming quickly larger and greater in quantity. A sphere of silver light began to envelope him.
“Call me by my first name.” said the man in the silver suit with a final laugh, raising his wine glass to meet Karl’s. “Cheers, Karl.”
“Cheers, Karl.” said Karl, clinking his wine glass against that of the man in the silver suit. The sound of glass shaking resonated through the room, and Karl watched as Karl was consumed by the silver light and his body disappeared entirely from view. He saw the other wine glass being lowered slowly, and heard it drop onto the table. The light became bright enough to make him shield his eyes for a moment, and had evaporated into the air as soon as he opened them. There was no trace of Karl or the silver pocket watch left. Karl sat up, his wine glass still raised. He looked at the red ticket in his right hand for a few moments before putting it slowly back in his pocket. He looked at the empty armchair where only a few moments before had sat another Karl, a Karl from a different time. He smiled at it, and raised his wine glass again, clinking it against the air. “Cheer’s Karl.” he said to the empty room, before laughing shortly to himself and draining the last drops of red wine in the wine glass.
Bavarian Wine - Words: 2755
“Checkmate.” The man in the silver suit lifted the minute white marble figurine depicting a queen in a flowing robe and placed it softly on an unassuming black tile three rows away. He smiled slightly, and leaned back in his armchair. Across from him, the man in the black suit’s eyes flitted across the remaining pieces on the chessboard. A white knight, six white pawns, a white bishop and the white king against four black pawns, a black rook, a black bishop, the black king and the elegant black queen. He set his fingertip on the intricate white marble crown that distinguished his king from his lowly pawns, and tried to think of a scenario where he wasn’t cornered. The black queen stopped his horizontal advance, and a black rook stopped him vertically. He could shift his white king sideways but depending on his chosen square a bishop and a pawn would be ready to meet his advance. After a long silence, he, too, leaned back in his armchair and threw up his hands.
“Well done.” he said cordially in his usual soft, purring German accent, his voice calm even as his eyes continued to flick rapidly from piece to piece, trying to determine what he might have done differently to win. The man in the silver suit chuckled softly. They were both sitting in large, comfortable-looking red velvet armchairs on opposite sides of a large dark brown oak wood table. On the table sat a large, ornate chessboard made of black and white marble and a series of elaborately sculpted marble chess pieces. They sat in a large room with walls made of the same dark brown wood and a floor carpeted with a rich crimson satin rug. A large fireplace made of dark gray stone sat next to the table and armchairs and a blazing orange fire within it cast long tendrils of shadow across the room.
The man in the armchair to the right of the table wore a suit made of silver silk and a black bowtie. His cuffs were white and studded with simple gold cufflinks, and his pants were made of a rich black wool. He appeared to be in his late fifties, and had combed black hair streaked with silver and a silver beard. His smile revealed a row of polished white teeth. His eyes were a bright brown and shone with the spark of vast wisdom. He sat upright again and began to gather the chess pieces, placing them neatly back in their initial positions with a calculated meticulousness. “Are you really that surprised, Karl?” he asked without looking up at the other man. He gave another small laugh. “I’ve played the game for some thirty years now. And even if I hadn’t I can always read you like the back of my hand. How could I not win?”
“I suppose you’re right. Chess is an old man’s game.” said the man in the armchair to the left of the table, eliciting another laugh from his companion. Karl wore a suit made of black silk, and a bright crimson bowtie. His cuffs, too, were white, though his cufflinks were silver instead of gold and had the sheen that came only with recent purchase. His pants were black and striped with silver. He appeared to be in his late twenties, and had combed black hair that he had gelled in place and a short black beard. His eyes, too, were a bright brown, but unlike his companion his contained not wisdom but a blazing, fiery ambition. He sat up and spoke again. “Well, it has been a pleasure playing with you. However the night is becoming quite late, and I would suggest we proceed to opening a bottle of wine and discussing anything you’d like to discuss, if that’s alright with you?”
“Of course.” said the man in the silver suit. Karl nodded.
“Leon!” he called into the hall beyond the doorway. “Would you bring the Bavarian Wine?” In a few minutes a sharply dressed man in a white doublet and black pants hurried through the door, holding a silver tray. He had brown hair and looked to be in his early twenties. He smiled eagerly at Karl and the man in the silver suit before setting the tray down on the table. Sitting placidly on it’s shimmering metallic surface were two thin crystal wine glasses and a bottle of wine with a large brown cork. Karl picked up a wineglass and set it on his side of the chessboard, and motioned for the man in the silver suit to do the same. With one swift flick of his hand, Leon drew a small silver corkscrew from his pocket and unscrewed the cork, allowing it to fall into his open hand. Then, he picked up the wine bottle and poured a sparkling, foamy red wine into each of their glasses.
When he was finished, he picked up the silver tray again and looked expectantly at Karl. “Can I fetch you and your guest anything else, Master Wulff?”
“No, I think that’ll be all. Thank you Leon.” said Karl. Leon continued to smile at both of them and bowed shortly before returning to the hallway outside of the room. Once he was gone, the man in the silver suit flashed Karl an amused smile. Karl shrugged. “The estate needs servants if it’s going to be properly maintained. Leon’s not a bad fellow, just a bit tight in the collar for my tastes.” Karl paused to take a sip of the wine. He set the wine glass down and seemed to silently contemplate the quality of the wine before speaking again. “Marvelous, no? I hand picked it from perhaps a dozen samples at the vineyard. I’m told it’s from the person wine cellar of a Bavarian nobleman, a duke or a count I think. Costly, but what is wealth if not a means toward luxury?” At this the man in the silver suit burst into laughter. Karl looked at him cynically, confused and slightly indignant. “What’s so funny?” he asked.
“Which memoir did you read that one in?” asked the man in the silver suit between short chuckles. “Honestly Karl, if nothing else, you make an incredibly amusing millionaire.” Karl grinned sheepishly.
“Can you blame me?” he asked. “Ever since last month it’s all been a whirlwind of nice clothes and seaside estates and . I’m drunk on wine half the time and drunk on power the other half.” He tipped back his head and smiled, as though savoring the wealth. After a few moments of silence he turned to the man in the silver suit and smiled at him slyly. “I’m sure you can relate.”
“Yes, I can. But you’ve seen nothing yet. I can tell you Karl, there is very little that a man cannot enjoy in this world with a hundred million Euros at his beck and call.” At this Karl’s eyes widened suddenly and he nearly spit out his wine.
“A hundred million?” he managed to gasp after sputtering for a few seconds. “You turned five million Euros into a hundred million?”
“You didn’t really think this was it, did you? This little estate, a few servants? This is only the beginning.” The man in the silver suit spread his arms wide in a grand gesture and smiled at Karl. “But I didn’t expect you to think that far ahead, at least not yet. You have ambition, Karl, but not drive.” He picked up a small white marble pawn from the chessboard in his left hand and focused on it, his eyes widened in contemplation. He stroked it’s chiseled helm with his finger. “What is the difference between this pawn, one of twenty on the board, completely expendable, and the white king?”
Karl looked at him, puzzled. “Well, if a pawn dies the game goes on. If the king dies the game is over.”
“Yes.” said the man in the silver suit. “But both can die, eventually. Both are men. Neither is immortal, neither fully in control of their own destiny. One wears a crown and the other a helmet, but at the end of the day there is only one real difference between the two. A pawn is nearly useless, a simple foot soldier, a life of little weight on the battlefield, endlessly able to sacrifice its own life with little cost if it will hurt the enemy. A king needs to live, a king must live. A king has the weight of the game on his shoulders. Therefore, when a player acts as a pawn, their desire to survive extends only as far as the limited usefulness of the pawn’s life. When a player acts as a king, their desire to survive extends as far as they value winning the game. A player acting as a pawn has almost no drive, while a player acting as a king has infinite drive. Infinite will to succeed. Something I, and, in another life, you, created for ourselves.”
“But you don’t have the drive I had once. You have a different drive, bred of different emotions. You don’t know what it’s like to work in a dead end job for thirty years in a gray cubicle on the fourth floor of some godforsaken office building in Bavaria. You haven’t been embittered by being passed up for a promotion for the fourth time because your boss simply can’t be bothered, come home to a dusty apartment full of half-finished notes and old furniture that you can’t afford to replace, have your heart broken by that Viola you’re always talking about because ‘you’re a really nice guy, but the relationship isn’t going anywhere’.” As he spoke the man’s voice became steadily louder, and his hand began to tremble slightly. Realizing he was losing his composure, he took a deep breath and turned to Karl with a final frosted gaze. “But thanks to you and me, you won’t need to. We’ve saved you from that Karl. Thirty years of tinkering madly in that apartment by the light of a single dim bulb has saved you from that. And now, finally, we can turn to pursuing what ultimately drives us: the hope of creating a brighter, greater future for you and me.”
“One has a lot of time to think in thirty years of near-complete isolation from the outside world.” continued the man in the silver suit. “I kept myself updated on finances, stocks, rising companies. There are ways to turn nothing into five million Euros, as you have, and then turn five million into ten or twenty, or a hundred or a thousand. I have a path for you, Karl, a path of investments and business deals that will, in the end, work very prosperously for both of us. But I am, quite literally, getting ahead of myself. These are discussions to be had another time. The night really is getting late, and I should be on my way soon. For now, I want you to enjoy yourself. You, and I, have earned it.”
“I am.” said Karl, shortly. “I had no idea what you sacrificed to make this happen. You have my thanks, of course.”
“And I accept them. But don’t feel sorry for me.” said the man in the silver suit. “Those sacrifices will soon be entirely made up for. I have only your best interests at heart, Karl. Think nothing of it. You would have done the same for me.” Suddenly, he drew an object from his pocket and brought it to his eyes. In the light of the fire, Karl saw it was a thin silver pocket watch with a long silver chain that wound down and disappeared into the man’s pocket. The man in the silver suit stared at the glass surface of the timepiece for a few moments before looking back at Karl and speaking again. “It is late, Karl. I should be going soon. It has been a pleasure meeting you. Before I go, however, there is one thing I would like to see, if you would be fine with it.”
“Anything.” said Karl.
“Could I see the ticket. One more time?”
“Of course.” said Karl, fumbling in the pocket of his black pants until he found a small, slightly torn piece of paper, about the size of cinema ticket. He held it up to the light of the fire, now reduced to a few sparks and embers, and held it out to the man in the silver suit. It was red, and bore the black, gaudy designs of a casino at it’s edges. Printed on it’s surface were five numbers in a simple black font: 8, 19, 26, 38 and 57. The other man took it slowly, as though he were afraid it was not entirely real and would shatter at his touch. When he gazed upon it his eyes began to fill with the spark of nostalgia, and a thin smile crossed his lips, as though he were seeing a long-lost friend again after years apart. Karl watched his silent reverie curiously. “I kept it with me, of course. Somehow, I don’t think I could ever get rid of it. It’s like a good luck charm, I suppose.”
“Neither do I.” said the other man. He reached into the same pocket he had pulled the pocket watch out of, and withdrew a small object. He set it on the table, and set the other ticket next to it. It was the same ticket, a bright red with black designs and writing, though much more worn and tarnished. On it were printed the same five numbers: 8, 19, 26, 38 and 57. The man in the silver suit smiled again, and laughed. “I’ve kept it with me all these years. To bring good luck, yes. But also to remind me that I am the master of my own destiny. Five numbers. Just five simple numbers made it all happen. Five numbers on a red lottery ticket.” He laughed again, and turned his gaze to the fire.
He handed the red ticket back to Karl. “It really is time for me to be going.” he said, checking his pocket watch. He looked at the silver pocket watch closely, and began to turn the small silver dials on it’s side with precise, methodical motions of his fingers. He left only a large circular piston on the side unchanged. “I should return to my own time now. We will meet again, and there will be specifics to discuss. But for now, Karl, I want you to have some fun. Go out, enjoy life. Tell Viola a mutual friend said hello. Go out, take her somewhere nice. Berlin maybe, or Paris or Geneva or anywhere you like. And know that I’m proud of you.”
“Thank you.” said Karl, with a short smile. “I eagerly await our next meeting.” He raised his wine glass. “Cheers, Mr. Wulff.”
The man in the silver suit pressed the large piston, and, almost immediately, small silver sparks began to fly out of the silver pocket watch. The flew around him, becoming quickly larger and greater in quantity. A sphere of silver light began to envelope him.
“Call me by my first name.” said the man in the silver suit with a final laugh, raising his wine glass to meet Karl’s. “Cheers, Karl.”
“Cheers, Karl.” said Karl, clinking his wine glass against that of the man in the silver suit. The sound of glass shaking resonated through the room, and Karl watched as Karl was consumed by the silver light and his body disappeared entirely from view. He saw the other wine glass being lowered slowly, and heard it drop onto the table. The light became bright enough to make him shield his eyes for a moment, and had evaporated into the air as soon as he opened them. There was no trace of Karl or the silver pocket watch left. Karl sat up, his wine glass still raised. He looked at the red ticket in his right hand for a few moments before putting it slowly back in his pocket. He looked at the empty armchair where only a few moments before had sat another Karl, a Karl from a different time. He smiled at it, and raised his wine glass again, clinking it against the air. “Cheer’s Karl.” he said to the empty room, before laughing shortly to himself and draining the last drops of red wine in the wine glass.
Poem/short story...
Mandatory, 3 words to form mold of said story.
minimum word count for story is 200 words.
Poems have no minimum.
I accept your challenge. However, I am too busy playing with Arcane Dice to write just yet (fancy terms for saying "I'm writing other things" ).
There is a week.
And i am meaning this to be a hub for writing contests.
(Seeing if the first one works though.
Not sure what awards might be though...
The Night of Terrors
A Short Story by FlyingPig6789
It is sunset. I spent my first day in this strange blocky world punching down trees and mining some stone. I also built a little wooden square as a cottage to provide shelter for me. The sun has now set, and evil creatures are coming out of hiding. Rotting green people who reek of death burst out of the ground. They are clearly some kind of undead. Accompanying them are skeletons with rotting flesh hanging off some of their bones, wielding bows. Giant hairy spiders crawl out of caves and climb to the top of cliffs
But, worst of all is the thing made of dead leaves. I was a sickly green and constantly wore an expression of pain. One of them walks up to my and the house and explodes. I am shot out and into the night of terror. The zombies shuffle towards me, skeletons draw their bows. The spiders leap for me, and I think it is all over. I reluctantly daw out my sword, and begin to defend myself.
I easily decapitate the zombies and cut some of the spiders in half. The others leap on me, and I am overwhelmed. Luckily, when I fell to the ground I dodged all of the skeleton’s arrows. Another leaf thing rushes up to me and explodes. I fly away, and my sword shatters. At least the blast killed the remaining spiders. An arrow pierces my shoulder, then another. I am dying fast.
I pick up the bone of a fallen skeleton and use it as a club. I successfully use it to kill two skeletons, three zombies, four spiders, and a leaf thing. I am starting regain my strength and confidence. I charge at a skeleton and pull its head off. I throw the head at a leaf thing and knock it out.
The sun begins to rise. Once the sun is fully risen, the undead burst into flames and the spiders retreat back into their caves. All the leaf things except one all retreat. The last one sneaks behind me and tries to explode. I use the bone club one last time, and impale the leaf thing’s face. I have survived the night of terrors.
You Are Mine
by sc1020 AKA Slade
They say the night is a dangerous place. Anyone can. I don't blame them. I want to tell you a story that involves this. A disturbing story that scared me out of my wits. About one of the many terrors that come at night.
I was walking through the forest one night to confirm a rumor. They said my brother died in these very woods. They say his ghost haunts them forever. The spruce trees were close together and I placed a torch on every one, creating a trail back in case I got lost.
Then I noticed that it got darker still. I turned around to see a torch had just gone out. In fact, all of them were out.
“Who's there?” I asked, “Is it you, Hunter? Or... your ghost?”
“Jacob?” a voice called. It sounded scared and alone Through the trees I saw someone sitting, as if they were hiding. It was my brother, Hunter. He was alive all right.
“Hunter! You're alive!” I yelled, hugging him.
“Ssssh!” Hunter said, “It'll hear you.”
“What'll hear me?” I asked.
“I can't tell you,” he said, “It might attack me or even you.”
“Listen,” I said, “It's been two weeks. These creepy woods are just getting to you.”
“Here it comes!” he yelled. I turned around and saw a figure rushing towards me. Its eyes glowed purple. It made strange gurgling noises. It grabbed me and threw me across the forest into a tree, heading for Hunter.
I took out my bow and shot a single arrow straight at my head. It vanished, appearing at my side and punching me to the ground. I took out my best sword and swung at its feet, getting back up.
It vanished again and appeared, grabbing Hunter once again. I ran towards it. It turned, using only its fists to oppose me. Its mouth opened wide. It ran towards me at a frightening speed. I slashed and it blocked.
“You're not hunting my brother,” I said, “No matter what you do.”
“But you don't understand,” the figure said, “He is mine. You are mine. You two are... offering. I take you to dragon and he spares me and my family.”
“I'm sorry, but all your kind does is harm people!” I yelled, stabbing it. It vanished before the sword hit. I ducked as it punched me from behind. But it put its arm over my head and pulled me back. It just just about to make its final blow on me when someone stabbed it.
It turned around, but saw no one. Yet I saw Hunter, plain as day. He was wearing a pumpkin on his head.
“You can't see me,” Hunter said, “But I can see you. I will haunt you until you leave my brother alone. You see, I protect him and he protects me. You'll never find us. You think you scare us, but in reality, we scare you.”
“No, it's not true!” the enderman said, “My race is the one that haunts people. How are you striking me? I cannot see you!”
Hunter grabbed me and pushed me out of the way, stabbing the enderman in the chest. It fell to the ground, trickling purple blood and then vanishing. All that was left was a single pearl. I took Hunter home and we framed the pearl. We would always remember this day. It showed more than our love.
It showed that nothing could bring us apart.
A mysterious shuffling sound could be heard from behind my door. As far as I was concerned, it was just another undead creature trying to kill me. I rolled over in my soft, fluffy bed and stared at the dark wood wall. The shadows created by the multiple torches I had around the small bedroom flickered like spirits of those long since departed. It was, in all, a normal night.
So I fell asleep.
When I awoke, I found myself on the floor, as usual, with the bright morning sun rudely trying to blind me through the small window situated above my bed itself.
The torches that lined the room were still burning, no surprise there. So what made me feel nervous?
"Eh... I just need to eat something." I eventually decided to myself.
The bedroom was, as mentioned before, rather small. However, small spaces can have many things inside of them. Take the four chests piled up in the corner of the room, nearly brushing against one of the torches. Or perhaps you'd like to hear about the other six chests that I had piled up on the spacious shelves lining the top of the room? Anyways, I stalked out of there fairly carefully (my home is not completely secure from the things that go bump in the night...) after grabbing a crudely crafted sword of stone. Technically, the sword was a club, as it had no point or anything to it, but oh well.
I had engraved certain runes into the leather hilt of it in order to try and protect myself against any attacking beasts. The funny thing is that it actually worked. Or perhaps that was just wishful thinking.
I exited the bedroom and entered the dark, chestnut colored, wooden hallway. I had lined it with paintings depicting scenes from my life: a beach bordered by a large, ominous forest with twisted, blackened trees writing in it's limits, a small hovel in the boughs of a tall, sturdy light brown tree that was surrounded by many other trees that looked nearly identical to the first, and, now, a giant mansion that covered the entirety of the giant tree's trunk. There were also pictures from intermediate phases, but they were things like the first time I saw one of the undead creatures, or the first time that I made a tool.
They were like visual journals. The hallway had no rooms connecting to it; I had no use for other rooms in this house. All of my activities took place in three of the four rooms that trailed down the tree at indeterminate positions. Tarrying in the hallway no further, I reached the end of it and saw that the ladders leading down were all broken. The rungs of the separate, dark ladders were twisted at odd angles - as if something ridiculously heavy had been using them.
Suddenly, I got a feeling on the back of my neck as if something was watching me. I quickly turned around to find... nothing. The hallway was empty. And by 'empty', I mean that the torches were all gone. The painting had vanished. Even the door at the end, the one that led back into my bedroom, had vanished.
Considering that I had never seen anything like this before, what I did next was perfectly acceptable. I jumped backwards and stammered... only to find myself falling out of the tree house, branches and twigs and leaves and all other sorts of chaotic things hitting me. Luckily, there was an almost broken branch on one of the lowest trees that broke my fall gently, just a few tenths of a second before I would have hit the ground. I lost it then.
I'm not sure how far I ran, or even where I ran. All I know is that I regained composure of myself inside the bowels of some sort of abandoned complex. I sit here in this small stone room and look out There to see red eyes looking back at me through the reinforced glass windows of the enclosure. I can't find the exit, and I know it's only some time before whatever is out there, haunting me, finds me in here.
Whoever finds this, if anyone finds this...
Do not proceed further. I'm past the point of fear and I am thinking calmly and logically now. Whatever is out There is likely to stay in here after it... you know, gets rid of me.
Goodbye.
/\/\/\
There are some sketches of a nightmarish creature resembling a giant ball of clay with glowing red eyes here. You look up, the torch's feeble light is sputtering mysteriously. Frowning, you put the book into your backpack and go back the way you came in, through the many old, cracked stone rooms... and cells.
From the cells, you can hear many strange noises. And, occasionally, you can catch glimpses of strange creatures that appear to be giant undead people.
You have no doubt in your mind as to the truth of this man's words, and, as such, you begin running towards the exit. Your fine leather shoes usually make nearly no sound, but in this complex, they make huge reverberating echoes that carry down into the depths of the earth.
Suddenly, you come upon an intersection. You believe that you had turned right here when you came down first, so you turn left. A giant amorphous blob that is so hideously disgusting that it cannot be described in sitting in the pathway... luckily, it seems to be facing the other direction. How it has not heard you by now, you do not know. What you do know is that you are now trapped it here, just like that man was...
You turn and run the other way. A giant bellow - like a baby's screams - vibrates your bones as you stumble through the ever darkening passages. Suddenly, something slimy wraps itself around your stomach.
You know that it's the end.
I was out collecting wood from a forest near my home, when I realized that the sun was setting. I rushed home and slammed the door closed. As I prepared myself for bed, I realized I should probably convert my logs into wooden planks. I had 5 64 stacks of logs, so it presumably took a few minutes. When I finished, I tried to enter my bed.
“You cannot sleep now. There are monsters nearby.” said the bed.
“Oh no…” I thought. As I sat thinking about what to do next, I started hearing them. Bang, bang. Groan…I could hear the zombies trying to get in. Hiss, hiss. I could hear the creeper time bombs ticking outside my home. I could hear the warbles of an enderman, wanting to take my blocks. I could hear the rattling bones of the skeletons just waiting for me to come out.
As I was trying to think a way out of this, an enderman came and took a block out of my home. Suddenly, every monster nearby was at the opening, arrows whizzing by my head, zombies poking their arms through, creepers poking their heads through, and more endermen coming and taking more of the blocks, until there was barely any wall left.
The monsters were starting to flood my home, creepers, endermen, skeletons, and zombies. I took my bed and everything I could fit inside my inventory from my chest, and ran for the hills. After running a mile or so, I saw a small opening in a hill, a cavern. When I walked in, there were no monsters in sight. I breathed a sigh of relief.
I placed my bed down. The pillow looked like a soft cloud, and the blanket like a warm hug. I fell back into the wonderful, soft warmth of the bed, and slept a deep sleep. Though it was a deep sleep, it was not a pleasant one.
I saw in that dream all the events from the previous night. The late wood-collecting trip, the monsters surrounding my house, me running away, and finally, me ending up in this cave. The one thing different about this dream however, was I woke to a creeper standing over my bed. Boom!
I woke up, partially because of the dream, partially because of the sun glaring in my eyes. I was still half-asleep and had the sun glaring in my eyes, so I couldn’t think straight or see correctly. I heard something similar to the hiss of a snake and the hoof beats of a horse next to my bed, and for some reason I thought it was my alarm clock. I hit it with my fist, hoping to shut it off, but the only thing that happened was that the hissing grew louder. As I came to my senses, I realized it was a creeper over my bed, and I just aggravated it.
“Oh Notch” was the last thing I thought before-Boom! All that was left was a giant crater and a lot of items.
Night Terrors.
He stumbled through the dark cave into a surreal mineshaft. At the end of the mineshaft was a chest. without hesitation steve strode towards it. Suddenly the light dissapeared, with the absence of light the mineshaft underwent a grotesque transformation. Behind him fires flew from nowhere! sprouting upon stone and wood alike, it raced towards him. A roar echoed from its depths as it consumed him.
He woke covered in a cold sweat feeling the heat of the fires rage over him still. "A dream?" He thought "It felt so real!" He turned his thoughts from his daydream and resumed mining. Slowly he smashed a two by two hole through the ground. After several minutes of this he broke a hole and found himself staring into a dark cave.
He smashed another so he could see better. A hiss behind him subsequently followed by a large explosion sent him flying headfirst into the cave. His tools fell from his hands as he flew through the air, scrambling he managed to grab his iron sword before he hit the ground. He rolled upon contact and came to his feet in a battle stance. His eyes adapted slowly and he made sillouettes out of the darkness.
He launched himself straight into their midst and sliced through two before heading in the opposite direction. He discerned light ahead of him and raced towards it. "Lava!" He exclaimed breathlessly. His eyes narrowed as he approached. The light source was not lava as he had hoped but a torch, leading into a mineshaft. He hopped up and blocked off the entrance before advancing along the wooden corridor.
At the end of the mineshaft he made out a chest sitting, waiting undoubtedly with treasures within. Steve advanced on it, but before he could pull it open he heard a noise from behind. He spun around and watched in horror as flames sprouted from the wood and stone and raced towards him. The heat was unbearable and he could make out a roar from within the flames. He felt it shrivel his clothes then consume him.
He pried his eyes open fearing the flames but found himself resting in a lower portion of his mine. He shook his head, His daydreaming needed to stop. He reached down and grabbed his pick and his sword and started digging a two by two mineshaft.
inserttitlehere
The decaying light that once illuminated this crypt was finally showing few sights of weakness, presumably the remaining amount of sun rays would quickly extinguish and, before Jacob's very own eyes, darkening the stone edges of the cavern. Either way, either ending, pure blackness and a ferocious murkiness was literally pulling him in a dismal magnetism, until Jacob managed to understand the nighttime began its reign in the most bloodcurdling manner. Hisses and grumbles echoed from the entrance of the den and absolutely exiting was not an option for now, perhaps later. Perhaps after the sun was born again, perhaps after the light burnt the creatures, children of the evil. This exact while was absolutely astounding and especially grim. Downwards, deeper in the cave, the lack of light seemed to smirk towards its new toy, another human who failed miserably in surviving.
Jacob's decision was to settle in the immediate location - personally, not the most shrewd decision. However, acceptable enough, assuming the man bones were shaking and hopping, trembling in terror.
His cunning ordered him to cover both entrances, but the common sense was clearly stating this was an unwise choice. Indeed, it was, and his single choice was to rise walls and trap himself in a cubicle, amongst two hostile positions. This would be compared to building a barrage in both ways of an estuary, eventually the water would storm through it. This was an imminent fact, although walls weren't technically reachable by monsters. Whatever, Jacob though. What matters is the prompt safety.
The walls were built to the top, easily reaching the ceiling. Ornate with torches whose flamboyant flames dissolved the last bits of black on his panic room. There was a chest armed with a few apples, breads, two or so used and weakened iron pickaxes, four stone shovels in perfect condition and a single diamond sword, apparently lacking in use. Apparently perfect. Two furnaces, crafted in a hurry movement, were lit with the charcoal harvested beforehand as Jacob speculated he would have to temporarily dwell inside the cave. On the entrance? Not a choice. Something about that region was extremely frightening, extremely somber, morose. The bloodthirsty energy, then. Not a choice, not a choice. Before the day reached its highest position in the skies, Jacob would be strolling in the plains located on the surface. But in the moment, he was inside a wormhole. How pathetic.
The dead of the night was terrifyingly silent, apparently way more serene than previous nights. Perhaps because the walls hampered the spawning on monsters, but that was a mere advantage rather than a problem to solve. However, three knocks broke the silence. Three knocks on the wall, and no mob was even able to perform such act. This was, from all of the most fearsome events in the history of Jacob's pitiful and three-weeks-long Minecraft life. He had learned that mobs were dumb as doors and they wouldn't bother on trying to storm his room. But three knocks. Not a choice. He remained silent, motionless, inside his cabin - the diamond sword in hand, brandished on front of the knocked wall; and the creature on the other side did the same. Not a single noise. Jacob HAD to discover this. But he couldn't go outside. No, no way. That was, definitively, not a good idea. Not a choice.
Jacob had a great idea afterwards. He created a clock. Jacob would wait until the clock marked dawn. Then, he'd storm the front and slay - on the utmost significance of this word - this creature. Although lacking on experience, Jacob revealed himself of being a sturdy swordsman. A perfect fencer in real life, as well. How amusing.
The clock marked two minutes - or hours, in the story's plane - after the first marks of the sun were visible and the monster's grumbles of burning were audible even inside the cubicle. These noises, blatantly gross egocentric, took all of Jacob's attention to the terror-mob outside - currently forgotten. A scatterbrained Jacob made an emergency escape door and his eyes met with his eyes. Two hollow spheres, sparkling the white of the deadliest of the taigas. Without a word, the man with the double orbs possessed his sword inside Jacob's dead point. The last vision Jacob had was of these orbs.
***
Returning to real life, Jacob emitted a loud and terrified shout which startled most of his familiars. Uncle Jerry who was watching one baseball game starring the New York Yankees squeaked in both fury and astonishment for his nephew interrupt the narrator's joyful yell announcing it was the strike number two. "What is the problem, Jacob?" The old sullen human bagasse grumbled. "Nothing's wrong, uncly." Jacob grumbled, in the same accent, to his uncle. A terrifying mixture between British, Arabian and Russian. The hell mixture, Jacob nicknamed it.
Jacob decided to get some fresh milk to drink and reflect about this sudden apparition. He stood up and looked back, to see the view of his window. It wasn't the vision of his window. Instead, they were two hollow, white eyes.
Uncle Jerry stood up, buttered popcorn flying on all directions. Nonchalant with the food product clearly wasted, the olden decided to check his nephew. Entering the room, he noticed it was empty. He went to get a milk or something, Uncle thought to himself. Jerry looked downwards, staring at a small white and creased letter. Words, written with green highlighter, was stated to him: "Nothing's wrong, uncly."
epicmud7
Cockney Griefing
Bob felt scared. He felt scared quite often, usually at small creaks in the night, but this time was different. Had it something to do with the fact there was a short man in a suit at his door threatening to blow him up if he didn't hand over some "loots"? That might have had something to do with it. Anyway, Bob, generally not a violent person, so he calmed himself and got out of bed to walk over to the door. He asked the short man kindly to go away. That usually worked with most people who can to his door. But apparently not this one. He pulled out a surprisingly sharp, shiny sword and started shouting insults at him in a slightly squeaky cockney accent. "You wot mate? I swear, when I get me hands on yer, I'm gonn **** yah **** so hard that you'll **** an' **** und you won' be able teh **** painlessly fer weeks!" Sorry about the censoring, Bob doesn't like swear words, so I covered them up for him. Don't worry Bob, I've got your back.
Anyway, as Bob decided the short man was either drunk or a very vicious door-to-door salesman, he actually opened the door so he could hear what the short person was saying. The agitated dwarf ran at him, and pounced. Bob crashed to the floor and spilt his tea all over the floor. Hopefully it wouldn't stain the floors. Anyway, as Bob pushed the small man off him, he asked what the peculiar short man wanted. "I want yer loots! Give me yer loots! Or I'll blow ya tah the Nether an' back!" Bob decided this was very rude of the man, and asked him a bit more sternly this time to leave. The man did not take kindly to this, and pushed him up against the wall and put his sword to Bob's neck. Bob then started to get very scared. He wasn't quite sure what happened next, probably because the short angry man knocked him out.
I, personally, didn't think that was very nice, so I thought it to be my duty, as Author of this book, to put a stop to it. So I got out from under the bed where I had been hiding, writing the events down of the past five minutes and picked up the short cockney fellow and gave him a good piece of my mind. I then continued to kick him out of Bob's window, which I DID repair later, just so you know, and told him to leave me and Bob alone. I then helped Bob to get up, and made him a nice cup of tea to replace his old one. We then went and played spleef with some of our friends. Bob liked spleef. Then we went to bed, and had wonderful dreams devoid of short angry cockney people.
The end.
The bright morning sun shone high in the blue sky, bathing the wide grasslands below in the warm light of a new day. For miles and miles in all directions, flowing green hills rolled on into the distance, peaceful and undisturbed. Cows grazed in pastures and sheep trotted along trails. Trees grew from the ground, their leaves whistling in the soft wind. In short, it was another beautiful day in Minecraftia.
It was the perfect day for an adventure, thought Steve as he walked slowly up a hill and admired the landscape. He wore his signature bright blue shirt and dark blue pants, crisp and fresh for the day ahead. In his left hand he carried his trusty diamond pickaxe, the pick sharpened and polished. At his right side his pet wolf Darius trotted alongside him, tongue hanging out of his mouth, seeming just as excited as he was to tackle the day.
Steve walked for a few more minutes, until he approached the gray stone entrance to the cave he had been spelunking in for the past few months. As he stood at the entrance, a smile on his face and a spark in his blue eyes, about to head inside as he did every morning, a voice from behind startled him. “Hello, Steve.” Steve would have recognized the sneering snarl anywhere.
He whirled around, his diamond pickaxe held tightly in his hand, to see exactly the person he had been expecting. “Herobrine!” he said, his friendly expression turning to one of abrupt anger. And true to his voice, the man standing behind him was indeed Herobrine, traitorous brother of Notch and Dark Lord of the Nether. He wore a black hooded cloak and held in his hand a long iron scythe. His bright white eyes were narrowed. He smiled a fanged grin at Steve.
“What an astute observation, Steven.” Steve grimaced, hating his uncle’s habit of calling him by his proper name. “I see you’ve finally managed to craft a diamond pickaxe. I must say, it’s about time. You’ve been a miner for what, a decade now? Don’t you think it’s about time to give it up already? You know, settle down, find a girl, get a house?” Steve stamped his foot at his uncle’s audacity. How dare he come to Steve’s mine and then insult his life choices?
“I’m twenty-three, uncle.” said Steve, emphasizing the last word. “I have plenty of time to ‘settle down’. Darius is all the company I need. And for Notch’s sake, what have you put in your hair this time?” He pointed to the gel in Herobrine’s slick black hair.
“Oh, this?” said Herobrine, feigning surprise at Steve’s question even though he had been hoping he would ask. “Squid ink. I’ve found it’s delightfully rejuvenating to my scalp. I apply a new batch every morning. You ought to try it sometime. Perhaps if you actually took the time to freshen up every once in a while you might attract some actual women instead of the mangy dogs you keep company with now.” At this Darius growled, and Herobrine incinerated him with a flick of his hand, reducing him to a pile of ash.
“Hey, that was my dog! And I’ve dated plenty of women! I can’t think of their names right now but I’m sure I have!” said Steve, eliciting a snicker from Herobrine. Steve became angrier. “This from a man who spends his days and nights sitting in some Nether Fortress planning a revenge on Notch that he can never have, who has never had a relationship with anyone besides his filthy pigs?” Herobrine looked affronted.
“You take that back! Horatio is very well-groomed and me and him are just friends! And he is a pig-man. A pig-man!” Herobine growled in frustration but quickly regained his temper. His eyes had begun to fill with tears at Steve’s insult to his pig-men friend but he tried to stay strong. “Anyway, I’m not here to lecture you on your love life.” he said. “I’m here to take you to the Nether so your soul can burn there for eternity. Now are you coming or not?”
“You can’t do anything of the sort. You have no jurisdiction here. This is Minecraftia.” said Steve. Herobrine laughed, and made the eloquent hand gesture that summoned Nether Portals. Nothing happened. He tried again, and, when that didn’t work, a third time. Steve began to laugh. “It’s not going to work you idiot. This isn’t your world.”
“But . . . but . . .” Herobine stood there, repeating the hand gesture over and over again to no avail. “But that isn’t what’s supposed to happen! You’re supposed to come with me to the Nether! None of this is going as I planned it!” Steve shook his head in disapproval and walked closer to him.
“Do you require further proof, uncle? Case in point, if this were your world, I probably wouldn’t be able to do this. This one’s for my dog.” Before Herobine could ask what he was referring to, Steve raised his fist and punched him squarely in the face, and everything went black.
* * *
“NO!” Herobrine woke up in bed, screaming. He looked around him frantically for a few moments before he realized he was back in his bedroom in the Nether. He turned on the Redstone Lamp on his bedside table and looked around. He was wearing his black silk night clothes and a bottle of squid ink sat on his bedside table next to his Redstone Lamp. He gave a sigh of relief, and sat up in bed. It had all been a bad dream. “Horatio!” he called. He turned to a silver bell that hung from a rope above his bedside table and rang it furiously, causing loud chimes to echo through the halls outside his bedroom.
A few minutes later a tired-looking zombie pigman in a tuxedo resembling a butler’s uniform entered the room. He looked at the indignant Herobrine and grunted something that translated roughly to: What does the illustrious Dark Lord Herobrine desire?
“I . . . I had a nightmare. It was about Steven. I tried to bring him to the Nether but my powers didn’t work and he punched me in the face. I want you to read me a bedtime story.” said Herobrine, his arms crossed and his slick hair shining. Horatio sighed.
But this is the third time this week-
“Did I ask for your lip, Horatio? Or did I ask you to read me a bedtime story? Now when you’re ready to be nice and do your job, The Two Brothers of Minecraftia is right on top of the fireplace.” Knowing it was useless to argue with him, the pig-man sighed again and picked up the book. He sat down at the edge of the bed, opened the book, and began to read it in grunts.
Once upon the time, in the land of Minecraftia, there were two brothers. One was named Notch, and the other Herobrine . . .
The End
“Good night, George.” she whispered and planted a kiss on her son’s forehead.
“Good night.” he replied. His mother ruffled his hair and George turned around and closed his eyes, but he did not fall asleep.
He heard the door close and the soft, whispery winds of the wind on his neck and what he thought were the snores of his younger brother on the bed in the corner.
How am I going to sleep, thought George. He turned to look at the open window.
The curtains flailing and the glass cold, George could see the fog covering the window and hiding the hilltops from his eyes. George did not fall asleep.
George was only 12, he was quite average. Auburn swept hair over a pale face, he was thin and an inch taller than average, but his personality was far from interesting. Hunter was his older brother. He was popular, daring, and 15. To the girls in school, had way better good looks than any of the other boys. Blonde hair, blue eyes, a nice tan and was just so dang hot. Which annoyed George so very much. To the boys, he was just plain awesome.
No one actually remembered his brother, George. Save George’s best friend, Lynk. Who was teased for having a name no one understood and no one knew that Rick was his older brother, because he was too popular for Lynk.
“Is she awake?” George turned to see his brother sitting up from his bed.
“Mother?” George asked in wonder. “She had gone to bed a few minutes ago. Why do you ask?”
Hunter stood up and swept away the covers and went to the open window. “Is this window big enough for me to fit through?”
George cocked his head to the right, “Why are you asking? You aren’t going out again, father said no.”
Hunter shrugs. “What they don’t know won’t hurt them!” he complains. “Plus, I promised my friends I’d meet them at the entrance of the forest. I mean...” Hunter grins crazily and lowers his voice for only George to hear.
“Ashley, will be there.”
George blushes and scowls. “Fine.” he says, sweeping the covers away. “I’m coming with you, but what happens if father comes in?”
Hunter grabs a big pillow and stuffs it under his blanket and does the same for George. “Easy, father never disturbs our sleep!” Hunter snickers and opens the window wider. “The window is big enough. C’mon.”
Hunter grabbed a bag from under his pillow and put his left leg through the window and pulled himself up, he put his right leg through the window and hopped out. George packed a bag of things he might need and slung a jacket over his back along with a cap. George followed Hunter out the window, but much, much slower.
The wind grabbed at his collar as he clung onto his jacket.
“It’s awfully cold, Hunter.” George whispered. Hunter only stared at him, before jumping over the fence and running down the hill.
“Why him?” George muttered. He opened the fence gate and closed it, but did not lock it. He was already too far to notice, trying to catch up to his brother. CLANK! The gate hit the fence noisily and the wind was trying to get their attention. It hoped their father would find them, but it was already too late.
“Hunter! You made it, man!” Rick walked towards Hunter and patted him on the back after doing some kind of handshake. Rick looked behind him, at George.
“Why did you bring him?” he scowled. George hangs his hand and feels a pat on his back.
“It’s okay. I’m here too.” Lynk stands beside him as George’s smile lights up.
“I’m pretty glad to see you, Lynk.” he says, Lynk only winks his right eye. Rick comes in between George and Lynk and introduces the rest of them.
First is Tyler, Rick’s best friend. He comes with Rick everywhere and helps and supports him in everything. In which, sometimes isn’t so good for his reputation, but is popular either way,
Second is Lyra. One of Hunter’s closest friends who goes along with him, part of the popular clique in school, who’s pretty stuck up and bossy. She came anyway, to show she isn’t just pretty in pink. Which she hopes herself is true.
Last is Ashley, on whom George has a crush on. He know he has no chance with her, of course. Like Lyra, she’s too far out into a high school hierarchy. Unlike Lyra, she’s actually caring and kind, but has never talked or even seen George in her life. That she remembers.
George drools unnoticed, thankfully, towards Ashley. Lynk snaps him out though, this might be their only chance for popularity.
“We’re off. I found this hut in the center of the woods yesterday at 2:00. We should all check it out.” says Rick. “Save those two.” he points at George and Lynk. Rick, Tyler and Lyra laugh, Hunter snickers a little. Ashley just stands there and smiles.
“Well. Turn on your flashlights. Let’s go.” Tyler says. Everyone reaches into their bags and takes out a flashlight, and they work their way into the woods.
The leaves sway and the grasshoppers sing, it’s only the complaining of mud on Lyra’s new jeans that annoys anyone.
“These are brand new!” she complains and groans deeply.
“Shut up, Lyra. We’re trying to do something!” Rick shouts. George turns and sees Lyra scowling and cursing silently behind him.
“Geez.” Lynk mutters.
After a few minutes of cursing, shouting and snake-looking vines, they arrive at a dirt hut, lined with yellow dandelions and red roses. A four block tower with tiki heads around it stuck on bamboo sticks.
“Looks like a shrine.” Hunter notes. “We should, dig in this area. What if there’s treasure down there?” he looks up and imagines.
“I’m not getting any more dirt on my clothes!” Lyra complains again.
“Let’s just dig,” Tyler starts and then directs his gaze towards Lyra, “and play the quiet game! How does that sound?” he teases.
All of them take out their shovels and begin digging within the dirt mound, save George and Lynk. Who attempt to break branches and use the thickest one to dig.
“Have any of you found anything?” Ashley cries. A chorus of high and low pitched of no’s follow.
CLINK! “I found something!” George shouts. Surprised, they all start tripping over roots and hitting each other to be the first to see what George found. When they had gathered, in skin of might become bruises and a few scratches, a turcoise shaped block sits.
“Is that, what I think... It is?” Lynk says, his eyes sparkling as he reaches his hand to grab it.
“No!” Rick slaps his hand away and grabs the block. “By Notch! I’m gonna be rich!” he laughs crazily and begins to run away.
“Hey!” Tyler and Hunter shout. “That was for all of us!” Rick still runs into the forest. Leaving all of them.
“I told you he was a jerk.” Lyra said to all of them. “We made the trip for nothing.”
“AGGGGHHHHH!” All of them turn their faces to where Rick last was, and there he is now. Lying on the floor in a puddle of red.
They scream and back away, jaws open, eyes horrified.
“How did he even get back here, he was far already!” Ashley screamed. “We gotta get out of here!”
“But you were just in time.”
The group falls backward and a floating man in a turcoise robe, face hidden in shadow, hovers above them. The leaves and the stars grow quiet with his prescense and nothing moves.
“You scared the Nether out of us!” Tyler shouts and points a finger at the figure. The figure stands still. “You want this to get physical?!” Tyler shouts.
“Where we are going, we do not need the physical.”
George can feel his face. Turning into grains of sand. First, his feet. His knees, his waist, his shoulders, his neck, his face. With a last scream, George is gone. He remembers the sound of waves. The salt entering his lungs, or perhaps... It isn’t salt.
George opens his eyes and he sees all his friends in a space of black and white waters, orbs floating about with every breath they try to take. He looks at his hands, and he is alive. He has nothing to do, and he cannot breathe.
George begins to choke, and he shakes his hands in a frenzy, trying to swim up from wherever he is. He just wants to live.
He has about a ten seconds, the surface is right there. His face is beginning to turn purple and his hands and feet numb. He cannot feel them anymore. He’s almost there. Five seconds ring in his mind, and he knows he can make it. His eyes are forcing shut, and he can’t feel his arms and legs, and the growing pain in his lungs well up. Three. He reaches a hand out. Two. Another. One.
The man in the turcoise robe is now shown. He wears the clothes of the Hero Steve. He is not Steve. He looks up at George, and George knows that this is already the End, when he looks into the eyes of the man. George opens his mouth and the man only waves a heavy goodbye, and with it his life and soul. He was devoured by the sea of stars, in which none can survive.
And George woke up.
The Herobrine
I pulled out my map for directions. I was nearly 500 meters away from house. That’s not that far, I thought. I can make it before dawn! I placed my map in my inventory and started walking, being cautious about my declining food bar. As I walked, the biome changed from grassland to snow. I stepped foot in the ice and I instantly felt chills run down my spine. I searched my pack and put on some leather gauntlets to keep warm. I kept my sword handy just I case if I ever ran into some trouble. I spent countless hours in the making of my diamond sword, and now it is all about to pay off.
While I treaded through the heavy snow, I heard a noise. Footsteps coming from behind me. I shot around, surveying the area, but saw nothing. M-must have been a pig or something, I nervously assured myself. I crept along and continued my journey. No more than two steps later, the sound of faint breathing sent me up the nearest tree. I was shaking vigorously, from the cold and from fright. Trying to regain my stability, I felt a cold structure tap my right shoulder. Shaking like an earthquake, I slowly turned around and screamed in terror. Right in front of my face stood what appeared to be a person, oddly similar to me, with glowing white eyes. Herobrine!
I jumped off the tree and ran for dear life, regarding my health bar. Everywhere I turned, he stood waiting for me. After miles of running, I quickly dug a hole in the ground three blocks deep and fitted myself in it, covering up the opening in the ground. Panting like a dog, I took in a deep breath and took a bit of a pork chop I was saving. Before I could finish it, a pair of glowing eyes formed in front of me.
Then everything went black…
Fallacy
FelixoWind
1,014 Words
I sit in my window watching the sun slowly run its exhausting course. The moon makes its way over to release its friend from the extensive labor, starting the night shift. The last glimmers of light disappear;
I know the time has come.
I reach over and grab my crudely made sword and examine it. The sword is almost at the point of breaking.
I strike out at an imaginary foe and break the sword over its head. I let a sigh escape
and collect the fallen pieces of my sword. I trudge over to my workbench and set the
crumbling bits of my sword down.
All of my safety precautions strike me as useless, so I decide to splurge and make myself an
iron sword and some armor. I shuffle around in my chest and find my supplies. I lay the
items out on top of my chest and begin to craft my combat wear. I spend what seems
like forever making the last of my iron armor. I finish, glance up and see that only five minutes have past.
I gather my final products and head to my enchantment room. I wipe the sweat from my brow
and start to enchant. By the time I am done, I am physically drained. Silently,
I scold myself for not preparing the night before. I pull on my armor and grab my bow and arrows.
As I walk out the door, I am greeted with approaching ranks of soldiers.
I run forward and meet the army head on slicing through Zombie after Zombie.
I break through the first few ranks to meet the skeletons and spiders. Mercilessly killing many,
I yawn as I go. The creepers run in now but many of their explosions kill their comrades.
I pick my way through the now hectic battlefield and watch silently as a few of the
zombies turn on each other. I soon grow tired of this spectacle and cut through most of the
remaining ranks. As I near the back of the fleet I see a guarded entourage. I cut my way
through the small group and reach the center to see the face that haunts my dreams.
I stand there frozen in shock as he leers at me from on top of his black
horse. Saying nothing I slowly back away. He urges the horse forward and settles it in
front of me. After a moment of silence inside the circle his voice protrudes the noisy battle.
I strain to hear him but he is done talking.
Everyone in the circle turns and stares at me. I look from face to face wondering what they want.
He thunders "Well fine then! Unleash the beast!!!" I turn and run to the woods. Suddenly,
all noise of the battle is gone and it is replaced an unearthly quiet. That just makes me run faster.
I can hear something closing in on me as I reach the edge of the forest. I dart through the
swamp hoping to loose it but I can still here it chasing me. I reach the jungle and decide it
might be safest to take to the trees; I scale one of the small trees and jump into the next one.
Pushing away leafs I turn around in time to see the creature blurred by speed jump into the tree
behind me. I jump into the next tree. I can hear the limbs behind me breaking as I dash from tree to tree.
Jumping into the next tree I continue to survey the area looking for land marks.
I spot an oddly shaped mountain and that’s enough to tell me where I am. I jump out of
the tree and dart into the tall ferns. As I run by I use my bow to shoot a button to
the side of me. Just as planned, dispensers surface and start to fire arrows.
I weave in between the trees hoping my line of cannons would be enough to distract it.
I run into the jungle hills and climb the tallest tree. I continue to use trees to navigate.
Making my way to the top of the hill I jump and miss the branch by just an inch.
I fall but manage to catch one of the dangling vines. I reach the top of the tree
and take a moment to catch my breath.
I turn around and find that I am standing in front of my spawn house; I quickly dart
inside closing the piston door behind me. After removing my armor I make my way to the
back of my house hoping to get some carrots from my farm.
As I walk down the hall, I change my mind. Instead, I stop into my old room leaving the light out.
I walk over and fall into bed taking comfort in the warm blanket. I roll over and hug my old stuffed monster.
I start to drift off to sleep as I realize my pillow is bigger than I remember. I just hug it tighter
feeling like a child again until I feel it take a breath.
I jerk back from what I thought was my stuffed monster. Seeing its glowing eyes, I lay down and
accept my fate. The monster that looked so much like my childhood friend heaved itself
off the bed and hovered over me. It reached down and pushed my hair out of my face.
Then its hand rested on my chest.
I felt its sharp claws sink into my flesh but I did not feel fear I was happy.
My only friend was here with me and no matter what his intentions were, I was going to savor my
last moments with him before he left again. His claws sank deeper into my skin
as I watched his eyes dance and a mischievous smile cross his face.
His hand plunged into my chest. As he slipped his fingers into my rib-cage and braced himself
to pull out my heart he whispered "Goodbye old friend."
Darkness of Herobrine
I started panting. I was running away from someone who looked just like me. He kept whispering, "Embrace your fear..." I kept running away until I fell into a hole in the ground. I had no blocks and no tools to get out of it. The hole was made of obsidian and I started panicking. Herobrine looked down at me and his eyes glowed red. "Now...enter hell." He placed an obsidian block to cover up the hole. I started screaming because there was no light and I was afraid of the dark. Finally, I heard laughing that sounded deranged. My vision was disoriented and all I saw was purple. My head was hurting and I couldn't take it. I blacked out.
When I recovered, the environment was completely new. All the blocks were red and I saw a tower made of a strange, cracking red kind of stone. A severed head was attached to the tower...it was my head. Its eyes glowed white and a distorted voice began speaking. "Welcome...to the fiery depths of my home...where Notch banished me and tortured me..." I shivered in fear. "W-W-Who are you?" The voice only became more distorted. "I am the original you...Notch thought me as...imperfect...and, for that...I will make you pay in blood." I shivered a little more. "W-Well, technically, there's no blood in this game..." The voice grew angry. "SILENCE! HOW DARE YOU INTERRUPT ME WHILE I MAKE MY TERRIFYING SPEECH!" The voice cleared its throat. "I...am Herobrine...so, now that you know...you have my permission to die."
All I remember was shrill screaming when I woke up. I could have sworn I saw a figure outside the window, but it vanished...Herobrine...he was watching me.
Entries are done by order of submission!
6-22-13 winners!
1st. OnceInALongTime's Sea of Star's
“Good night, George.” she whispered and planted a kiss on her son’s forehead.
“Good night.” he replied. His mother ruffled his hair and George turned around and closed his eyes, but he did not fall asleep.
He heard the door close and the soft, whispery winds of the wind on his neck and what he thought were the snores of his younger brother on the bed in the corner.
How am I going to sleep, thought George. He turned to look at the open window.
The curtains flailing and the glass cold, George could see the fog covering the window and hiding the hilltops from his eyes. George did not fall asleep.
George was only 12, he was quite average. Auburn swept hair over a pale face, he was thin and an inch taller than average, but his personality was far from interesting. Hunter was his older brother. He was popular, daring, and 15. To the girls in school, had way better good looks than any of the other boys. Blonde hair, blue eyes, a nice tan and was just so dang hot. Which annoyed George so very much. To the boys, he was just plain awesome.
No one actually remembered his brother, George. Save George’s best friend, Lynk. Who was teased for having a name no one understood and no one knew that Rick was his older brother, because he was too popular for Lynk.
“Is she awake?” George turned to see his brother sitting up from his bed.
“Mother?” George asked in wonder. “She had gone to bed a few minutes ago. Why do you ask?”
Hunter stood up and swept away the covers and went to the open window. “Is this window big enough for me to fit through?”
George cocked his head to the right, “Why are you asking? You aren’t going out again, father said no.”
Hunter shrugs. “What they don’t know won’t hurt them!” he complains. “Plus, I promised my friends I’d meet them at the entrance of the forest. I mean...” Hunter grins crazily and lowers his voice for only George to hear.
“Ashley, will be there.”
George blushes and scowls. “Fine.” he says, sweeping the covers away. “I’m coming with you, but what happens if father comes in?”
Hunter grabs a big pillow and stuffs it under his blanket and does the same for George. “Easy, father never disturbs our sleep!” Hunter snickers and opens the window wider. “The window is big enough. C’mon.”
Hunter grabbed a bag from under his pillow and put his left leg through the window and pulled himself up, he put his right leg through the window and hopped out. George packed a bag of things he might need and slung a jacket over his back along with a cap. George followed Hunter out the window, but much, much slower.
The wind grabbed at his collar as he clung onto his jacket.
“It’s awfully cold, Hunter.” George whispered. Hunter only stared at him, before jumping over the fence and running down the hill.
“Why him?” George muttered. He opened the fence gate and closed it, but did not lock it. He was already too far to notice, trying to catch up to his brother. CLANK! The gate hit the fence noisily and the wind was trying to get their attention. It hoped their father would find them, but it was already too late.
“Hunter! You made it, man!” Rick walked towards Hunter and patted him on the back after doing some kind of handshake. Rick looked behind him, at George.
“Why did you bring him?” he scowled. George hangs his hand and feels a pat on his back.
“It’s okay. I’m here too.” Lynk stands beside him as George’s smile lights up.
“I’m pretty glad to see you, Lynk.” he says, Lynk only winks his right eye. Rick comes in between George and Lynk and introduces the rest of them.
First is Tyler, Rick’s best friend. He comes with Rick everywhere and helps and supports him in everything. In which, sometimes isn’t so good for his reputation, but is popular either way,
Second is Lyra. One of Hunter’s closest friends who goes along with him, part of the popular clique in school, who’s pretty stuck up and bossy. She came anyway, to show she isn’t just pretty in pink. Which she hopes herself is true.
Last is Ashley, on whom George has a crush on. He know he has no chance with her, of course. Like Lyra, she’s too far out into a high school hierarchy. Unlike Lyra, she’s actually caring and kind, but has never talked or even seen George in her life. That she remembers.
George drools unnoticed, thankfully, towards Ashley. Lynk snaps him out though, this might be their only chance for popularity.
“We’re off. I found this hut in the center of the woods yesterday at 2:00. We should all check it out.” says Rick. “Save those two.” he points at George and Lynk. Rick, Tyler and Lyra laugh, Hunter snickers a little. Ashley just stands there and smiles.
“Well. Turn on your flashlights. Let’s go.” Tyler says. Everyone reaches into their bags and takes out a flashlight, and they work their way into the woods.
The leaves sway and the grasshoppers sing, it’s only the complaining of mud on Lyra’s new jeans that annoys anyone.
“These are brand new!” she complains and groans deeply.
“Shut up, Lyra. We’re trying to do something!” Rick shouts. George turns and sees Lyra scowling and cursing silently behind him.
“Geez.” Lynk mutters.
After a few minutes of cursing, shouting and snake-looking vines, they arrive at a dirt hut, lined with yellow dandelions and red roses. A four block tower with tiki heads around it stuck on bamboo sticks.
“Looks like a shrine.” Hunter notes. “We should, dig in this area. What if there’s treasure down there?” he looks up and imagines.
“I’m not getting any more dirt on my clothes!” Lyra complains again.
“Let’s just dig,” Tyler starts and then directs his gaze towards Lyra, “and play the quiet game! How does that sound?” he teases.
All of them take out their shovels and begin digging within the dirt mound, save George and Lynk. Who attempt to break branches and use the thickest one to dig.
“Have any of you found anything?” Ashley cries. A chorus of high and low pitched of no’s follow.
CLINK! “I found something!” George shouts. Surprised, they all start tripping over roots and hitting each other to be the first to see what George found. When they had gathered, in skin of might become bruises and a few scratches, a turcoise shaped block sits.
“Is that, what I think... It is?” Lynk says, his eyes sparkling as he reaches his hand to grab it.
“No!” Rick slaps his hand away and grabs the block. “By Notch! I’m gonna be rich!” he laughs crazily and begins to run away.
“Hey!” Tyler and Hunter shout. “That was for all of us!” Rick still runs into the forest. Leaving all of them.
“I told you he was a jerk.” Lyra said to all of them. “We made the trip for nothing.”
“AGGGGHHHHH!” All of them turn their faces to where Rick last was, and there he is now. Lying on the floor in a puddle of red.
They scream and back away, jaws open, eyes horrified.
“How did he even get back here, he was far already!” Ashley screamed. “We gotta get out of here!”
“But you were just in time.”
The group falls backward and a floating man in a turcoise robe, face hidden in shadow, hovers above them. The leaves and the stars grow quiet with his prescense and nothing moves.
“You scared the Nether out of us!” Tyler shouts and points a finger at the figure. The figure stands still. “You want this to get physical?!” Tyler shouts.
“Where we are going, we do not need the physical.”
George can feel his face. Turning into grains of sand. First, his feet. His knees, his waist, his shoulders, his neck, his face. With a last scream, George is gone. He remembers the sound of waves. The salt entering his lungs, or perhaps... It isn’t salt.
George opens his eyes and he sees all his friends in a space of black and white waters, orbs floating about with every breath they try to take. He looks at his hands, and he is alive. He has nothing to do, and he cannot breathe.
George begins to choke, and he shakes his hands in a frenzy, trying to swim up from wherever he is. He just wants to live.
He has about a ten seconds, the surface is right there. His face is beginning to turn purple and his hands and feet numb. He cannot feel them anymore. He’s almost there. Five seconds ring in his mind, and he knows he can make it. His eyes are forcing shut, and he can’t feel his arms and legs, and the growing pain in his lungs well up. Three. He reaches a hand out. Two. Another. One.
The man in the turcoise robe is now shown. He wears the clothes of the Hero Steve. He is not Steve. He looks up at George, and George knows that this is already the End, when he looks into the eyes of the man. George opens his mouth and the man only waves a heavy goodbye, and with it his life and soul. He was devoured by the sea of stars, in which none can survive.
And George woke up.
2nd. Kasparal's Nightmare.
The bright morning sun shone high in the blue sky, bathing the wide grasslands below in the warm light of a new day. For miles and miles in all directions, flowing green hills rolled on into the distance, peaceful and undisturbed. Cows grazed in pastures and sheep trotted along trails. Trees grew from the ground, their leaves whistling in the soft wind. In short, it was another beautiful day in Minecraftia.
It was the perfect day for an adventure, thought Steve as he walked slowly up a hill and admired the landscape. He wore his signature bright blue shirt and dark blue pants, crisp and fresh for the day ahead. In his left hand he carried his trusty diamond pickaxe, the pick sharpened and polished. At his right side his pet wolf Darius trotted alongside him, tongue hanging out of his mouth, seeming just as excited as he was to tackle the day.
Steve walked for a few more minutes, until he approached the gray stone entrance to the cave he had been spelunking in for the past few months. As he stood at the entrance, a smile on his face and a spark in his blue eyes, about to head inside as he did every morning, a voice from behind startled him. “Hello, Steve.” Steve would have recognized the sneering snarl anywhere.
He whirled around, his diamond pickaxe held tightly in his hand, to see exactly the person he had been expecting. “Herobrine!” he said, his friendly expression turning to one of abrupt anger. And true to his voice, the man standing behind him was indeed Herobrine, traitorous brother of Notch and Dark Lord of the Nether. He wore a black hooded cloak and held in his hand a long iron scythe. His bright white eyes were narrowed. He smiled a fanged grin at Steve.
“What an astute observation, Steven.” Steve grimaced, hating his uncle’s habit of calling him by his proper name. “I see you’ve finally managed to craft a diamond pickaxe. I must say, it’s about time. You’ve been a miner for what, a decade now? Don’t you think it’s about time to give it up already? You know, settle down, find a girl, get a house?” Steve stamped his foot at his uncle’s audacity. How dare he come to Steve’s mine and then insult his life choices?
“I’m twenty-three, uncle.” said Steve, emphasizing the last word. “I have plenty of time to ‘settle down’. Darius is all the company I need. And for Notch’s sake, what have you put in your hair this time?” He pointed to the gel in Herobrine’s slick black hair.
“Oh, this?” said Herobrine, feigning surprise at Steve’s question even though he had been hoping he would ask. “Squid ink. I’ve found it’s delightfully rejuvenating to my scalp. I apply a new batch every morning. You ought to try it sometime. Perhaps if you actually took the time to freshen up every once in a while you might attract some actual women instead of the mangy dogs you keep company with now.” At this Darius growled, and Herobrine incinerated him with a flick of his hand, reducing him to a pile of ash.
“Hey, that was my dog! And I’ve dated plenty of women! I can’t think of their names right now but I’m sure I have!” said Steve, eliciting a snicker from Herobrine. Steve became angrier. “This from a man who spends his days and nights sitting in some Nether Fortress planning a revenge on Notch that he can never have, who has never had a relationship with anyone besides his filthy pigs?” Herobrine looked affronted.
“You take that back! Horatio is very well-groomed and me and him are just friends! And he is a pig-man. A pig-man!” Herobine growled in frustration but quickly regained his temper. His eyes had begun to fill with tears at Steve’s insult to his pig-men friend but he tried to stay strong. “Anyway, I’m not here to lecture you on your love life.” he said. “I’m here to take you to the Nether so your soul can burn there for eternity. Now are you coming or not?”
“You can’t do anything of the sort. You have no jurisdiction here. This is Minecraftia.” said Steve. Herobrine laughed, and made the eloquent hand gesture that summoned Nether Portals. Nothing happened. He tried again, and, when that didn’t work, a third time. Steve began to laugh. “It’s not going to work you idiot. This isn’t your world.”
“But . . . but . . .” Herobine stood there, repeating the hand gesture over and over again to no avail. “But that isn’t what’s supposed to happen! You’re supposed to come with me to the Nether! None of this is going as I planned it!” Steve shook his head in disapproval and walked closer to him.
“Do you require further proof, uncle? Case in point, if this were your world, I probably wouldn’t be able to do this. This one’s for my dog.” Before Herobine could ask what he was referring to, Steve raised his fist and punched him squarely in the face, and everything went black.
* * *
“NO!” Herobrine woke up in bed, screaming. He looked around him frantically for a few moments before he realized he was back in his bedroom in the Nether. He turned on the Redstone Lamp on his bedside table and looked around. He was wearing his black silk night clothes and a bottle of squid ink sat on his bedside table next to his Redstone Lamp. He gave a sigh of relief, and sat up in bed. It had all been a bad dream. “Horatio!” he called. He turned to a silver bell that hung from a rope above his bedside table and rang it furiously, causing loud chimes to echo through the halls outside his bedroom.
A few minutes later a tired-looking zombie pigman in a tuxedo resembling a butler’s uniform entered the room. He looked at the indignant Herobrine and grunted something that translated roughly to: What does the illustrious Dark Lord Herobrine desire?
“I . . . I had a nightmare. It was about Steven. I tried to bring him to the Nether but my powers didn’t work and he punched me in the face. I want you to read me a bedtime story.” said Herobrine, his arms crossed and his slick hair shining. Horatio sighed.
But this is the third time this week-
“Did I ask for your lip, Horatio? Or did I ask you to read me a bedtime story? Now when you’re ready to be nice and do your job, The Two Brothers of Minecraftia is right on top of the fireplace.” Knowing it was useless to argue with him, the pig-man sighed again and picked up the book. He sat down at the edge of the bed, opened the book, and began to read it in grunts.
Once upon the time, in the land of Minecraftia, there were two brothers. One was named Notch, and the other Herobrine . . .
The End
3rd. Mage_Of_Cats Story.
A mysterious shuffling sound could be heard from behind my door. As far as I was concerned, it was just another undead creature trying to kill me. I rolled over in my soft, fluffy bed and stared at the dark wood wall. The shadows created by the multiple torches I had around the small bedroom flickered like spirits of those long since departed. It was, in all, a normal night.
So I fell asleep.
When I awoke, I found myself on the floor, as usual, with the bright morning sun rudely trying to blind me through the small window situated above my bed itself.
The torches that lined the room were still burning, no surprise there. So what made me feel nervous?
"Eh... I just need to eat something." I eventually decided to myself.
The bedroom was, as mentioned before, rather small. However, small spaces can have many things inside of them. Take the four chests piled up in the corner of the room, nearly brushing against one of the torches. Or perhaps you'd like to hear about the other six chests that I had piled up on the spacious shelves lining the top of the room? Anyways, I stalked out of there fairly carefully (my home is not completely secure from the things that go bump in the night...) after grabbing a crudely crafted sword of stone. Technically, the sword was a club, as it had no point or anything to it, but oh well.
I had engraved certain runes into the leather hilt of it in order to try and protect myself against any attacking beasts. The funny thing is that it actually worked. Or perhaps that was just wishful thinking.
I exited the bedroom and entered the dark, chestnut colored, wooden hallway. I had lined it with paintings depicting scenes from my life: a beach bordered by a large, ominous forest with twisted, blackened trees writing in it's limits, a small hovel in the boughs of a tall, sturdy light brown tree that was surrounded by many other trees that looked nearly identical to the first, and, now, a giant mansion that covered the entirety of the giant tree's trunk. There were also pictures from intermediate phases, but they were things like the first time I saw one of the undead creatures, or the first time that I made a tool.
They were like visual journals. The hallway had no rooms connecting to it; I had no use for other rooms in this house. All of my activities took place in three of the four rooms that trailed down the tree at indeterminate positions. Tarrying in the hallway no further, I reached the end of it and saw that the ladders leading down were all broken. The rungs of the separate, dark ladders were twisted at odd angles - as if something ridiculously heavy had been using them.
Suddenly, I got a feeling on the back of my neck as if something was watching me. I quickly turned around to find... nothing. The hallway was empty. And by 'empty', I mean that the torches were all gone. The painting had vanished. Even the door at the end, the one that led back into my bedroom, had vanished.
Considering that I had never seen anything like this before, what I did next was perfectly acceptable. I jumped backwards and stammered... only to find myself falling out of the tree house, branches and twigs and leaves and all other sorts of chaotic things hitting me. Luckily, there was an almost broken branch on one of the lowest trees that broke my fall gently, just a few tenths of a second before I would have hit the ground. I lost it then.
I'm not sure how far I ran, or even where I ran. All I know is that I regained composure of myself inside the bowels of some sort of abandoned complex. I sit here in this small stone room and look out There to see red eyes looking back at me through the reinforced glass windows of the enclosure. I can't find the exit, and I know it's only some time before whatever is out there, haunting me, finds me in here.
Whoever finds this, if anyone finds this...
Do not proceed further. I'm past the point of fear and I am thinking calmly and logically now. Whatever is out There is likely to stay in here after it... you know, gets rid of me.
Goodbye.
/\/\/\
There are some sketches of a nightmarish creature resembling a giant ball of clay with glowing red eyes here. You look up, the torch's feeble light is sputtering mysteriously. Frowning, you put the book into your backpack and go back the way you came in, through the many old, cracked stone rooms... and cells.
From the cells, you can hear many strange noises. And, occasionally, you can catch glimpses of strange creatures that appear to be giant undead people.
You have no doubt in your mind as to the truth of this man's words, and, as such, you begin running towards the exit. Your fine leather shoes usually make nearly no sound, but in this complex, they make huge reverberating echoes that carry down into the depths of the earth.
Suddenly, you come upon an intersection. You believe that you had turned right here when you came down first, so you turn left. A giant amorphous blob that is so hideously disgusting that it cannot be described in sitting in the pathway... luckily, it seems to be facing the other direction. How it has not heard you by now, you do not know. What you do know is that you are now trapped it here, just like that man was...
You turn and run the other way. A giant bellow - like a baby's screams - vibrates your bones as you stumble through the ever darkening passages. Suddenly, something slimy wraps itself around your stomach.
The Meaning of Life, the Universe, and Everything.
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Here's my entry. It is 370 words not counting the title or the by FlyingPig6789 part:
The Night of Terrors
A Short Story by FlyingPig6789
It is sunset. I spent my first day in this strange blocky world punching down trees and mining some stone. I also built a little wooden square as a cottage to provide shelter for me. The sun has now set, and evil creatures are coming out of hiding. Rotting green people who reek of death burst out of the ground. They are clearly some kind of undead. Accompanying them are skeletons with rotting flesh hanging off some of their bones, wielding bows. Giant hairy spiders crawl out of caves and climb to the top of cliffs
But, worst of all is the thing made of dead leaves. I was a sickly green and constantly wore an expression of pain. One of them walks up to my and the house and explodes. I am shot out and into the night of terror. The zombies shuffle towards me, skeletons draw their bows. The spiders leap for me, and I think it is all over. I reluctantly daw out my sword, and begin to defend myself.
I easily decapitate the zombies and cut some of the spiders in half. The others leap on me, and I am overwhelmed. Luckily, when I fell to the ground I dodged all of the skeleton’s arrows. Another leaf thing rushes up to me and explodes. I fly away, and my sword shatters. At least the blast killed the remaining spiders. An arrow pierces my shoulder, then another. I am dying fast.
I pick up the bone of a fallen skeleton and use it as a club. I successfully use it to kill two skeletons, three zombies, four spiders, and a leaf thing. I am starting regain my strength and confidence. I charge at a skeleton and pull its head off. I throw the head at a leaf thing and knock it out.
The sun begins to rise. Once the sun is fully risen, the undead burst into flames and the spiders retreat back into their caves. All the leaf things except one all retreat. The last one sneaks behind me and tries to explode. I use the bone club one last time, and impale the leaf thing’s face. I have survived the night of terrors.
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Lost interest in Minecraft, only here for Off Topic. EUA YAXK NGBK G RUZ UL ZOSK UT EUAX NGTJY.
Quote from Zhorom »
Very long ago. One scientist. Take pig and bird. Boom boom science explosions. FlyingPig6789 happened.
They say the night is a dangerous place. Anyone can. I don't blame them. I want to tell you a story that involves this. A disturbing story that scared me out of my wits. About one of the many terrors that come at night.
I was walking through the forest one night to confirm a rumor. They said my brother died in these very woods. They say his ghost haunts them forever. The spruce trees were close together and I placed a torch on every one, creating a trail back in case I got lost.
Then I noticed that it got darker still. I turned around to see a torch had just gone out. In fact, all of them were out.
“Who's there?” I asked, “Is it you, Hunter? Or... your ghost?”
“Jacob?” a voice called. It sounded scared and alone Through the trees I saw someone sitting, as if they were hiding. It was my brother, Hunter. He was alive all right.
“Hunter! You're alive!” I yelled, hugging him.
“Ssssh!” Hunter said, “It'll hear you.”
“What'll hear me?” I asked.
“I can't tell you,” he said, “It might attack me or even you.”
“Listen,” I said, “It's been two weeks. These creepy woods are just getting to you.”
“Here it comes!” he yelled. I turned around and saw a figure rushing towards me. Its eyes glowed purple. It made strange gurgling noises. It grabbed me and threw me across the forest into a tree, heading for Hunter.
I took out my bow and shot a single arrow straight at my head. It vanished, appearing at my side and punching me to the ground. I took out my best sword and swung at its feet, getting back up.
It vanished again and appeared, grabbing Hunter once again. I ran towards it. It turned, using only its fists to oppose me. Its mouth opened wide. It ran towards me at a frightening speed. I slashed and it blocked.
“You're not hunting my brother,” I said, “No matter what you do.”
“But you don't understand,” the figure said, “He is mine. You are mine. You two are... offering. I take you to dragon and he spares me and my family.”
“I'm sorry, but all your kind does is harm people!” I yelled, stabbing it. It vanished before the sword hit. I ducked as it punched me from behind. But it put its arm over my head and pulled me back. It just just about to make its final blow on me when someone stabbed it.
It turned around, but saw no one. Yet I saw Hunter, plain as day. He was wearing a pumpkin on his head.
“You can't see me,” Hunter said, “But I can see you. I will haunt you until you leave my brother alone. You see, I protect him and he protects me. You'll never find us. You think you scare us, but in reality, we scare you.”
“No, it's not true!” the enderman said, “My race is the one that haunts people. How are you striking me? I cannot see you!”
Hunter grabbed me and pushed me out of the way, stabbing the enderman in the chest. It fell to the ground, trickling purple blood and then vanishing. All that was left was a single pearl. I took Hunter home and we framed the pearl. We would always remember this day. It showed more than our love.
It showed that nothing could bring us apart.
I have no idea about the exact length but it is barely less than 2000 words, methinks.
They say the night is a dangerous place. Anyone can. I don't blame them. I want to tell you a story that involves this. A disturbing story that scared me out of my wits. About one of the many terrors that come at night.
I was walking through the forest one night to confirm a rumor. They said my brother died in these very woods. They say his ghost haunts them forever. The spruce trees were close together and I placed a torch on every one, creating a trail back in case I got lost.
Then I noticed that it got darker still. I turned around to see a torch had just gone out. In fact, all of them were out.
“Who's there?” I asked, “Is it you, Hunter? Or... your ghost?”
“Jacob?” a voice called. It sounded scared and alone Through the trees I saw someone sitting, as if they were hiding. It was my brother, Hunter. He was alive all right.
“Hunter! You're alive!” I yelled, hugging him.
“Ssssh!” Hunter said, “It'll hear you.”
“What'll hear me?” I asked.
“I can't tell you,” he said, “It might attack me or even you.”
“Listen,” I said, “It's been two weeks. These creepy woods are just getting to you.”
“Here it comes!” he yelled. I turned around and saw a figure rushing towards me. Its eyes glowed purple. It made strange gurgling noises. It grabbed me and threw me across the forest into a tree, heading for Hunter.
I took out my bow and shot a single arrow straight at my head. It vanished, appearing at my side and punching me to the ground. I took out my best sword and swung at its feet, getting back up.
It vanished again and appeared, grabbing Hunter once again. I ran towards it. It turned, using only its fists to oppose me. Its mouth opened wide. It ran towards me at a frightening speed. I slashed and it blocked.
“You're not hunting my brother,” I said, “No matter what you do.”
“But you don't understand,” the figure said, “He is mine. You are mine. You two are... offering. I take you to dragon and he spares me and my family.”
“I'm sorry, but all your kind does is harm people!” I yelled, stabbing it. It vanished before the sword hit. I ducked as it punched me from behind. But it put its arm over my head and pulled me back. It just just about to make its final blow on me when someone stabbed it.
It turned around, but saw no one. Yet I saw Hunter, plain as day. He was wearing a pumpkin on his head.
“You can't see me,” Hunter said, “But I can see you. I will haunt you until you leave my brother alone. You see, I protect him and he protects me. You'll never find us. You think you scare us, but in reality, we scare you.”
“No, it's not true!” the enderman said, “My race is the one that haunts people. How are you striking me? I cannot see you!”
Hunter grabbed me and pushed me out of the way, stabbing the enderman in the chest. It fell to the ground, trickling purple blood and then vanishing. All that was left was a single pearl. I took Hunter home and we framed the pearl. We would always remember this day. It showed more than our love.
It showed that nothing could bring us apart.
I have no idea about the exact length but it is barely less than 2000 words, methinks.
578 words 3078 characters
I use wordcounter.net to count words because docs doesn't have one.
The Meaning of Life, the Universe, and Everything.
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Member Details
(Sorry for double posting it it does)
I want to make a short story thread. It wouldn't be a contest, just a place to put short stories. I need something to write in-between HNSTS chapters.
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Lost interest in Minecraft, only here for Off Topic. EUA YAXK NGBK G RUZ UL ZOSK UT EUAX NGTJY.
Quote from Zhorom »
Very long ago. One scientist. Take pig and bird. Boom boom science explosions. FlyingPig6789 happened.
Blahg. This is what I came up with in thirty minutes.
Don't tell me how bad it is... XD
I promise that the next one will be better and less... whatever this is. XD
The Really Bad Story That I Came Up With In About Two Minutes Then Wrote Without Proper Description.
A mysterious shuffling sound could be heard from behind my door. As far as I was concerned, it was just another undead creature trying to kill me.
I rolled over in my soft, fluffy bed and stared at the dark wood wall. The shadows created by the multiple torches I had around the small bedroom flickered like spirits of those long since departed. It was, in all, a normal night.
So I fell asleep.
When I awoke, I found myself on the floor, as usual, with the bright morning sun rudely trying to blind me through the small window situated above my bed itself.
The torches that lined the room were still burning, no surprise there. So what made me feel nervous?
"Eh... I just need to eat something." I eventually decided to myself.
The bedroom was, as mentioned before, rather small. However, small spaces can have many things inside of them. Take the four chests piled up in the corner of the room, nearly brushing against one of the torches. Or perhaps you'd like to hear about the other six chests that I had piled up on the spacious shelves lining the top of the room? Anyways, I stalked out of there fairly carefully (my home is not completely secure from the things that go bump in the night...) after grabbing a crudely crafted sword of stone. Technically, the sword was a club, as it had no point or anything to it, but oh well.
I had engraved certain runes into the leather hilt of it in order to try and protect myself against any attacking beasts. The funny thing is that it actually worked. Or perhaps that was just wishful thinking.
I exited the bedroom and entered the dark, chestnut colored, wooden hallway. I had lined it with paintings depicting scenes from my life: a beach bordered by a large, ominous forest with twisted, blackened trees writing in it's limits, a small hovel in the boughs of a tall, sturdy light brown tree that was surrounded by many other trees that looked nearly identical to the first, and, now, a giant mansion that covered the entirety of the giant tree's trunk. There were also pictures from intermediate phases, but they were things like the first time I saw one of the undead creatures, or the first time that I made a tool.
They were like visual journals. The hallway had no rooms connecting to it; I had no use for other rooms in this house. All of my activities took place in three of the four rooms that trailed down the tree at indeterminate positions. Tarrying in the hallway no further, I reached the end of it and saw that the ladders leading down were all broken. The rungs of the separate, dark ladders were twisted at odd angles - as if something ridiculously heavy had been using them.
Suddenly, I got a feeling on the back of my neck as if something was watching me. I quickly turned around to find... nothing. The hallway was empty. And by 'empty', I mean that the torches were all gone. The painting had vanished. Even the door at the end, the one that led back into my bedroom, had vanished.
Considering that I had never seen anything like this before, what I did next was perfectly acceptable. I jumped backwards and stammered... only to find myself falling out of the tree house, branches and twigs and leaves and all other sorts of chaotic things hitting me. Luckily, there was an almost broken branch on one of the lowest trees that broke my fall gently, just a few tenths of a second before I would have hit the ground. I lost it then.
I'm not sure how far I ran, or even where I ran. All I know is that I regained composure of myself inside the bowels of some sort of abandoned complex. I sit here in this small stone room and look out There to see red eyes looking back at me through the reinforced glass windows of the enclosure. I can't find the exit, and I know it's only some time before whatever is out there, haunting me, finds me in here.
Whoever finds this, if anyone finds this... Do not proceed further. I'm past the point of fear and I am thinking calmly and logically now. Whatever is out There is likely to stay in here after it... you know, gets rid of me.
Goodbye.
/\/\/\
There are some sketches of a nightmarish creature resembling a giant ball of clay with glowing red eyes here. You look up, the torch's feeble light is sputtering mysteriously. Frowning, you put the book into your backpack and go back the way you came in, through the many old, cracked stone rooms... and cells.
From the cells, you can hear many strange noises. And, occasionally, you can catch glimpses of strange creatures that appear to be giant undead people.
You have no doubt in your mind as to the truth of this man's words, and, as such, you begin running towards the exit. Your fine leather shoes usually make nearly no sound, but in this complex, they make huge reverberating echoes that carry down into the depths of the earth.
Suddenly, you come upon an intersection. You believe that you had turned right here when you came down first, so you turn left. A giant amorphous blob that is so hideously disgusting that it cannot be described in sitting in the pathway... luckily, it seems to be facing the other direction. How it has not heard you by now, you do not know. What you do know is that you are now trapped it here, just like that man was...
You turn and run the other way. A giant bellow - like a baby's screams - vibrates your bones as you stumble through the ever darkening passages. Suddenly, something slimy wraps itself around your stomach.
They say the night is a dangerous place. Anyone can. I don't blame them. I want to tell you a story that involves this. A disturbing story that scared me out of my wits. About one of the many terrors that come at night.
I was walking through the forest one night to confirm a rumor. They said my brother died in these very woods. They say his ghost haunts them forever. The spruce trees were close together and I placed a torch on every one, creating a trail back in case I got lost.
Then I noticed that it got darker still. I turned around to see a torch had just gone out. In fact, all of them were out.
“Who's there?” I asked, “Is it you, Hunter? Or... your ghost?”
“Jacob?” a voice called. It sounded scared and alone Through the trees I saw someone sitting, as if they were hiding. It was my brother, Hunter. He was alive all right.
“Hunter! You're alive!” I yelled, hugging him.
“Ssssh!” Hunter said, “It'll hear you.”
“What'll hear me?” I asked.
“I can't tell you,” he said, “It might attack me or even you.”
“Listen,” I said, “It's been two weeks. These creepy woods are just getting to you.”
“Here it comes!” he yelled. I turned around and saw a figure rushing towards me. Its eyes glowed purple. It made strange gurgling noises. It grabbed me and threw me across the forest into a tree, heading for Hunter.
I took out my bow and shot a single arrow straight at my head. It vanished, appearing at my side and punching me to the ground. I took out my best sword and swung at its feet, getting back up.
It vanished again and appeared, grabbing Hunter once again. I ran towards it. It turned, using only its fists to oppose me. Its mouth opened wide. It ran towards me at a frightening speed. I slashed and it blocked.
“You're not hunting my brother,” I said, “No matter what you do.”
“But you don't understand,” the figure said, “He is mine. You are mine. You two are... offering. I take you to dragon and he spares me and my family.”
“I'm sorry, but all your kind does is harm people!” I yelled, stabbing it. It vanished before the sword hit. I ducked as it punched me from behind. But it put its arm over my head and pulled me back. It just just about to make its final blow on me when someone stabbed it.
It turned around, but saw no one. Yet I saw Hunter, plain as day. He was wearing a pumpkin on his head.
“You can't see me,” Hunter said, “But I can see you. I will haunt you until you leave my brother alone. You see, I protect him and he protects me. You'll never find us. You think you scare us, but in reality, we scare you.”
“No, it's not true!” the enderman said, “My race is the one that haunts people. How are you striking me? I cannot see you!”
Hunter grabbed me and pushed me out of the way, stabbing the enderman in the chest. It fell to the ground, trickling purple blood and then vanishing. All that was left was a single pearl. I took Hunter home and we framed the pearl. We would always remember this day. It showed more than our love.
It showed that nothing could bring us apart.
I have no idea about the exact length but it is barely less than 2000 words, methinks.
... What? No... impossible.
That looks like, oh, a Word Doc page long. That makes it about... five hundred - six hundred words long?
I'll get to doing this in a while, because:
1. I need to finish a few more words for that short story I am submitting to the publishers in a contest.
2. My friend is having issues and I am trying to help her out.
3. It's lunch time.
I was out collecting wood from a forest near my home, when I realized that the sun was setting. I rushed home and slammed the door closed. As I prepared myself for bed, I realized I should probably convert my logs into wooden planks. I had 5 64 stacks of logs, so it presumably took a few minutes. When I finished, I tried to enter my bed.
“You cannot sleep now. There are monsters nearby.” said the bed.
“Oh no…” I thought. As I sat thinking about what to do next, I started hearing them. Bang, bang. Groan…I could hear the zombies trying to get in. Hiss, hiss. I could hear the creeper time bombs ticking outside my home. I could hear the warbles of an enderman, wanting to take my blocks. I could hear the rattling bones of the skeletons just waiting for me to come out.
As I was trying to think a way out of this, an enderman came and took a block out of my home. Suddenly, every monster nearby was at the opening, arrows whizzing by my head, zombies poking their arms through, creepers poking their heads through, and more endermen coming and taking more of the blocks, until there was barely any wall left.
The monsters were starting to flood my home, creepers, endermen, skeletons, and zombies. I took my bed and everything I could fit inside my inventory from my chest, and ran for the hills. After running a mile or so, I saw a small opening in a hill, a cavern. When I walked in, there were no monsters in sight. I breathed a sigh of relief.
I placed my bed down. The pillow looked like a soft cloud, and the blanket like a warm hug. I fell back into the wonderful, soft warmth of the bed, and slept a deep sleep. Though it was a deep sleep, it was not a pleasant one.
I saw in that dream all the events from the previous night. The late wood-collecting trip, the monsters surrounding my house, me running away, and finally, me ending up in this cave. The one thing different about this dream however, was I woke to a creeper standing over my bed. Boom!
I woke up, partially because of the dream, partially because of the sun glaring in my eyes. I was still half-asleep and had the sun glaring in my eyes, so I couldn’t think straight or see correctly. I heard something similar to the hiss of a snake and the hoof beats of a horse next to my bed, and for some reason I thought it was my alarm clock. I hit it with my fist, hoping to shut it off, but the only thing that happened was that the hissing grew louder. As I came to my senses, I realized it was a creeper over my bed, and I just aggravated it.
“Oh Notch” was the last thing I thought before-Boom! All that was left was a giant crater and a lot of items.
I was out collecting wood from a forest near my home, when I realized that the sun was setting. I rushed home and slammed the door closed. As I prepared myself for bed, I realized I should probably convert my logs into wooden planks. I had 5 64 stacks of logs, so it presumably took a few minutes. When I finished, I tried to enter my bed.
“You cannot sleep now. There are monsters nearby.” said the bed.
“Oh no…” I thought. As I sat thinking about what to do next, I started hearing them. Bang, bang. Groan…I could hear the zombies trying to get in. Hiss, hiss. I could hear the creeper time bombs ticking outside my home. I could hear the warbles of an enderman, wanting to take my blocks. I could hear the rattling bones of the skeletons just waiting for me to come out.
As I was trying to think a way out of this, an enderman came and took a block out of my home. Suddenly, every monster nearby was at the opening, arrows whizzing by my head, zombies poking their arms through, creepers poking their heads through, and more endermen coming and taking more of the blocks, until there was barely any wall left.
The monsters were starting to flood my home, creepers, endermen, skeletons, and zombies. I took my bed and everything I could fit inside my inventory from my chest, and ran for the hills. After running a mile or so, I saw a small opening in a hill, a cavern. When I walked in, there were no monsters in sight. I breathed a sigh of relief.
I placed my bed down. The pillow looked like a soft cloud, and the blanket like a warm hug. I fell back into the wonderful, soft warmth of the bed, and slept a deep sleep. Though it was a deep sleep, it was not a pleasant one.
I saw in that dream all the events from the previous night. The late wood-collecting trip, the monsters surrounding my house, me running away, and finally, me ending up in this cave. The one thing different about this dream however, was I woke to a creeper standing over my bed. Boom!
I woke up, partially because of the dream, partially because of the sun glaring in my eyes. I was still half-asleep and had the sun glaring in my eyes, so I couldn’t think straight or see correctly. I heard something similar to the hiss of a snake and the hoof beats of a horse next to my bed, and for some reason I thought it was my alarm clock. I hit it with my fist, hoping to shut it off, but the only thing that happened was that the hissing grew louder. As I came to my senses, I realized it was a creeper over my bed, and I just aggravated it.
“Oh Notch” was the last thing I thought before-Boom! All that was left was a giant crater and a lot of items.
**511 words
509, actually.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Lost interest in Minecraft, only here for Off Topic. EUA YAXK NGBK G RUZ UL ZOSK UT EUAX NGTJY.
Quote from Zhorom »
Very long ago. One scientist. Take pig and bird. Boom boom science explosions. FlyingPig6789 happened.
Here's my entry. It is 370 words not counting the title or the by FlyingPig6789 part:
The Night of Terrors
A Short Story by FlyingPig6789
It is sunset. I spent my first day in this strange blocky world punching down trees and mining some stone. I also built a little wooden square as a cottage to provide shelter for me. The sun has now set, and evil creatures are coming out of hiding. Rotting green people who reek of death burst out of the ground. They are clearly some kind of undead. Accompanying them are skeletons with rotting flesh hanging off some of their bones, wielding bows. Giant hairy spiders crawl out of caves and climb to the top of cliffs
But, worst of all is the thing made of dead leaves. I was a sickly green and constantly wore an expression of pain. One of them walks up to my and the house and explodes. I am shot out and into the night of terror. The zombies shuffle towards me, skeletons draw their bows. The spiders leap for me, and I think it is all over. I reluctantly daw out my sword, and begin to defend myself.
I easily decapitate the zombies and cut some of the spiders in half. The others leap on me, and I am overwhelmed. Luckily, when I fell to the ground I dodged all of the skeleton’s arrows. Another leaf thing rushes up to me and explodes. I fly away, and my sword shatters. At least the blast killed the remaining spiders. An arrow pierces my shoulder, then another. I am dying fast.
I pick up the bone of a fallen skeleton and use it as a club. I successfully use it to kill two skeletons, three zombies, four spiders, and a leaf thing. I am starting regain my strength and confidence. I charge at a skeleton and pull its head off. I throw the head at a leaf thing and knock it out.
The sun begins to rise. Once the sun is fully risen, the undead burst into flames and the spiders retreat back into their caves. All the leaf things except one all retreat. The last one sneaks behind me and tries to explode. I use the bone club one last time, and impale the leaf thing’s face. I have survived the night of terrors.
interesting, I like the first night combo you set up with it.
They say the night is a dangerous place. Anyone can. I don't blame them. I want to tell you a story that involves this. A disturbing story that scared me out of my wits. About one of the many terrors that come at night.
I was walking through the forest one night to confirm a rumor. They said my brother died in these very woods. They say his ghost haunts them forever. The spruce trees were close together and I placed a torch on every one, creating a trail back in case I got lost.
Then I noticed that it got darker still. I turned around to see a torch had just gone out. In fact, all of them were out.
“Who's there?” I asked, “Is it you, Hunter? Or... your ghost?”
“Jacob?” a voice called. It sounded scared and alone Through the trees I saw someone sitting, as if they were hiding. It was my brother, Hunter. He was alive all right.
“Hunter! You're alive!” I yelled, hugging him.
“Ssssh!” Hunter said, “It'll hear you.”
“What'll hear me?” I asked.
“I can't tell you,” he said, “It might attack me or even you.”
“Listen,” I said, “It's been two weeks. These creepy woods are just getting to you.”
“Here it comes!” he yelled. I turned around and saw a figure rushing towards me. Its eyes glowed purple. It made strange gurgling noises. It grabbed me and threw me across the forest into a tree, heading for Hunter.
I took out my bow and shot a single arrow straight at my head. It vanished, appearing at my side and punching me to the ground. I took out my best sword and swung at its feet, getting back up.
It vanished again and appeared, grabbing Hunter once again. I ran towards it. It turned, using only its fists to oppose me. Its mouth opened wide. It ran towards me at a frightening speed. I slashed and it blocked.
“You're not hunting my brother,” I said, “No matter what you do.”
“But you don't understand,” the figure said, “He is mine. You are mine. You two are... offering. I take you to dragon and he spares me and my family.”
“I'm sorry, but all your kind does is harm people!” I yelled, stabbing it. It vanished before the sword hit. I ducked as it punched me from behind. But it put its arm over my head and pulled me back. It just just about to make its final blow on me when someone stabbed it.
It turned around, but saw no one. Yet I saw Hunter, plain as day. He was wearing a pumpkin on his head.
“You can't see me,” Hunter said, “But I can see you. I will haunt you until you leave my brother alone. You see, I protect him and he protects me. You'll never find us. You think you scare us, but in reality, we scare you.”
“No, it's not true!” the enderman said, “My race is the one that haunts people. How are you striking me? I cannot see you!”
Hunter grabbed me and pushed me out of the way, stabbing the enderman in the chest. It fell to the ground, trickling purple blood and then vanishing. All that was left was a single pearl. I took Hunter home and we framed the pearl. We would always remember this day. It showed more than our love.
It showed that nothing could bring us apart.
I have no idea about the exact length but it is barely less than 2000 words, methinks.
Blahg. This is what I came up with in thirty minutes.
Don't tell me how bad it is... XD
I promise that the next one will be better and less... whatever this is. XD
The Really Bad Story That I Came Up With In About Two Minutes Then Wrote Without Proper Description.
A mysterious shuffling sound could be heard from behind my door. As far as I was concerned, it was just another undead creature trying to kill me.
I rolled over in my soft, fluffy bed and stared at the dark wood wall. The shadows created by the multiple torches I had around the small bedroom flickered like spirits of those long since departed. It was, in all, a normal night.
So I fell asleep.
When I awoke, I found myself on the floor, as usual, with the bright morning sun rudely trying to blind me through the small window situated above my bed itself.
The torches that lined the room were still burning, no surprise there. So what made me feel nervous?
"Eh... I just need to eat something." I eventually decided to myself.
The bedroom was, as mentioned before, rather small. However, small spaces can have many things inside of them. Take the four chests piled up in the corner of the room, nearly brushing against one of the torches. Or perhaps you'd like to hear about the other six chests that I had piled up on the spacious shelves lining the top of the room? Anyways, I stalked out of there fairly carefully (my home is not completely secure from the things that go bump in the night...) after grabbing a crudely crafted sword of stone. Technically, the sword was a club, as it had no point or anything to it, but oh well.
I had engraved certain runes into the leather hilt of it in order to try and protect myself against any attacking beasts. The funny thing is that it actually worked. Or perhaps that was just wishful thinking.
I exited the bedroom and entered the dark, chestnut colored, wooden hallway. I had lined it with paintings depicting scenes from my life: a beach bordered by a large, ominous forest with twisted, blackened trees writing in it's limits, a small hovel in the boughs of a tall, sturdy light brown tree that was surrounded by many other trees that looked nearly identical to the first, and, now, a giant mansion that covered the entirety of the giant tree's trunk. There were also pictures from intermediate phases, but they were things like the first time I saw one of the undead creatures, or the first time that I made a tool.
They were like visual journals. The hallway had no rooms connecting to it; I had no use for other rooms in this house. All of my activities took place in three of the four rooms that trailed down the tree at indeterminate positions. Tarrying in the hallway no further, I reached the end of it and saw that the ladders leading down were all broken. The rungs of the separate, dark ladders were twisted at odd angles - as if something ridiculously heavy had been using them.
Suddenly, I got a feeling on the back of my neck as if something was watching me. I quickly turned around to find... nothing. The hallway was empty. And by 'empty', I mean that the torches were all gone. The painting had vanished. Even the door at the end, the one that led back into my bedroom, had vanished.
Considering that I had never seen anything like this before, what I did next was perfectly acceptable. I jumped backwards and stammered... only to find myself falling out of the tree house, branches and twigs and leaves and all other sorts of chaotic things hitting me. Luckily, there was an almost broken branch on one of the lowest trees that broke my fall gently, just a few tenths of a second before I would have hit the ground. I lost it then.
I'm not sure how far I ran, or even where I ran. All I know is that I regained composure of myself inside the bowels of some sort of abandoned complex. I sit here in this small stone room and look out There to see red eyes looking back at me through the reinforced glass windows of the enclosure. I can't find the exit, and I know it's only some time before whatever is out there, haunting me, finds me in here.
Whoever finds this, if anyone finds this... Do not proceed further. I'm past the point of fear and I am thinking calmly and logically now. Whatever is out There is likely to stay in here after it... you know, gets rid of me.
Goodbye.
/\/\/\
There are some sketches of a nightmarish creature resembling a giant ball of clay with glowing red eyes here. You look up, the torch's feeble light is sputtering mysteriously. Frowning, you put the book into your backpack and go back the way you came in, through the many old, cracked stone rooms... and cells.
From the cells, you can hear many strange noises. And, occasionally, you can catch glimpses of strange creatures that appear to be giant undead people.
You have no doubt in your mind as to the truth of this man's words, and, as such, you begin running towards the exit. Your fine leather shoes usually make nearly no sound, but in this complex, they make huge reverberating echoes that carry down into the depths of the earth.
Suddenly, you come upon an intersection. You believe that you had turned right here when you came down first, so you turn left. A giant amorphous blob that is so hideously disgusting that it cannot be described in sitting in the pathway... luckily, it seems to be facing the other direction. How it has not heard you by now, you do not know. What you do know is that you are now trapped it here, just like that man was...
You turn and run the other way. A giant bellow - like a baby's screams - vibrates your bones as you stumble through the ever darkening passages. Suddenly, something slimy wraps itself around your stomach.
I was out collecting wood from a forest near my home, when I realized that the sun was setting. I rushed home and slammed the door closed. As I prepared myself for bed, I realized I should probably convert my logs into wooden planks. I had 5 64 stacks of logs, so it presumably took a few minutes. When I finished, I tried to enter my bed.
“You cannot sleep now. There are monsters nearby.” said the bed.
“Oh no…” I thought. As I sat thinking about what to do next, I started hearing them. Bang, bang. Groan…I could hear the zombies trying to get in. Hiss, hiss. I could hear the creeper time bombs ticking outside my home. I could hear the warbles of an enderman, wanting to take my blocks. I could hear the rattling bones of the skeletons just waiting for me to come out.
As I was trying to think a way out of this, an enderman came and took a block out of my home. Suddenly, every monster nearby was at the opening, arrows whizzing by my head, zombies poking their arms through, creepers poking their heads through, and more endermen coming and taking more of the blocks, until there was barely any wall left.
The monsters were starting to flood my home, creepers, endermen, skeletons, and zombies. I took my bed and everything I could fit inside my inventory from my chest, and ran for the hills. After running a mile or so, I saw a small opening in a hill, a cavern. When I walked in, there were no monsters in sight. I breathed a sigh of relief.
I placed my bed down. The pillow looked like a soft cloud, and the blanket like a warm hug. I fell back into the wonderful, soft warmth of the bed, and slept a deep sleep. Though it was a deep sleep, it was not a pleasant one.
I saw in that dream all the events from the previous night. The late wood-collecting trip, the monsters surrounding my house, me running away, and finally, me ending up in this cave. The one thing different about this dream however, was I woke to a creeper standing over my bed. Boom!
I woke up, partially because of the dream, partially because of the sun glaring in my eyes. I was still half-asleep and had the sun glaring in my eyes, so I couldn’t think straight or see correctly. I heard something similar to the hiss of a snake and the hoof beats of a horse next to my bed, and for some reason I thought it was my alarm clock. I hit it with my fist, hoping to shut it off, but the only thing that happened was that the hissing grew louder. As I came to my senses, I realized it was a creeper over my bed, and I just aggravated it.
“Oh Notch” was the last thing I thought before-Boom! All that was left was a giant crater and a lot of items.
He stumbled through the dark cave into a surreal mineshaft. At the end of the mineshaft was a chest. without hesitation steve strode towards it. Suddenly the light dissapeared, with the absence of light the mineshaft underwent a grotesque transformation. Behind him fires flew from nowhere! sprouting upon stone and wood alike, it raced towards him. A roar echoed from its depths as it consumed him.
He woke covered in a cold sweat feeling the heat of the fires rage over him still. "A dream?" He thought "It felt so real!" He turned his thoughts from his daydream and resumed mining. Slowly he smashed a two by two hole through the ground. After several minutes of this he broke a hole and found himself staring into a dark cave.
He smashed another so he could see better. A hiss behind him subsequently followed by a large explosion sent him flying headfirst into the cave. His tools fell from his hands as he flew through the air, scrambling he managed to grab his iron sword before he hit the ground. He rolled upon contact and came to his feet in a battle stance. His eyes adapted slowly and he made sillouettes out of the darkness.
He launched himself straight into their midst and sliced through two before heading in the opposite direction. He discerned light ahead of him and raced towards it. "Lava!" He exclaimed breathlessly. His eyes narrowed as he approached. The light source was not lava as he had hoped but a torch, leading into a mineshaft. He hopped up and blocked off the entrance before advancing along the wooden corridor.
At the end of the mineshaft he made out a chest sitting, waiting undoubtedly with treasures within. Steve advanced on it, but before he could pull it open he heard a noise from behind. He spun around and watched in horror as flames sprouted from the wood and stone and raced towards him. The heat was unbearable and he could make out a roar from within the flames. He felt it shrivel his clothes then consume him.
He pried his eyes open fearing the flames but found himself resting in a lower portion of his mine. He shook his head, His daydreaming needed to stop. He reached down and grabbed his pick and his sword and started digging a two by two mineshaft.
At the end of the week all stories will be set up on a poll that is how the winner will be decided.
Dejers Garth
(Made by Reignbear)
I will use this as a base for a monthly contest.
All short stories must be over 200 words and under 3000.
Short stories will be based on theme of the week.
Stories only need to have a working link with Minecraft, (Mobs, Physics, etc)
Short stories should be posted here. P.M's Are welcomed.
There is a one week time limit for stories to be posted, You have two days after that just in case you are late. (P.M's Are needed if you are late)
Current weeks theme; Detective story(from detectives viewpoint.)
If you support this and want to see it grow put this in your sig.
Happy Writing.
First;
By: Farehaven @ 1,217 words
I just woke up, the sun was shining everything was great. I checked my hands if anything was out of place, and there wasn't. I ran through the corridor in my house and passed through a room where my sibling are, they seem to be playing minecraft. I ran downstairs, looking for my book called The Painted Man, when I suddenly heard screams and creeper sounds. I expected that someone just used a creeper to blow something up. After a couple minutes, I found my book and headed upstairs. Before stepping on the first step, I heard all of them scream and an Enderman sound. I chuckled as I passed the room, I looked at the room once again and saw their chairs just spinning, but they weren't there. I saw a blocky hand out of one of the screens, and just grabbed it. The next thing I knew it, I was in minecraft.
After being teleported in the game, I looked at myself if I was blocky in anyway, but I wasn't, I was still me. I then saw a sign with a riddle on it.
Your sibling are in a biome of cold
And the one alone is the more old
For planks of oak you may see
When you find them, happy you will be
I was very confused, I didn't know what it meant (I know it sounds pretty basic...But screw it) I roamed around thinking "why would such a thing happen" I also simply knew, it takes me forever to do these kinda things. I sighed as I collected some wood, surprisingly it didn't hurt, I always wanted to collect wood like this. I smiled as I thought of the poem "Biome of cold?" I asked myself, I had a choice, was it Tundra or Taiga. I ended up walking over to the Taiga biome, and Jesus Christ it was freezing over there. I saw a couple of cows and said "Leather...Leather could keep me warm" I made a crafting table, I don't know how, but I did. I made myself a wooden sword and killed some cows and three sheep. By the time I was done murdering cows, I had full Leather armor which kept me warm and a bed as an entity in my pocket. It was getting dark, I didn't want to think what could happen to them, so I went underground and cover the entrances, I placed my bed down and fell asleep.
The next morning, a sign was there when I surfaced. It had a different riddle.
As you get close, you feel slight shivers
But to get there you have to kill a creature that drops something that shimmers
For a frame of twelve you will need to find
And you will be as happy as a divine
Again, I still don't know what any of this means, but as I looked up, I saw little bits of black smoke, which seems to come from fire. I tried to run, but I was hungry, and the game wouldn't let me. I felt stupid for not cooking the meat I got from those cows. I sighed as I ate raw beef, I was almost there. I could see the wooden house that was producing smoke. I knocked on the door and screamed "Please! Who ever you are, I need help!" I was so glad that my older brother Aaron opened the door. I looked at him as I asked "Aaron?" His smile appeared and said "Matt...Is it really you" I smiled as he gestured for me to come in "In the flesh" I said as I walked in "Do you know what happened to the others?" I asked quite depressed, he then looked at me and said "I wish I knew...I was getting some food...When they just suddenly disappeared" he said, about to cry.
Me:"well I've been given so many riddles...That I couldn't understand
Aaron:"Yeah...I encountered one which said"
"For blocks of black can be found with red water"
"The heat as they change can be less Intenser"
"For a drop of gravel you may need"
"and a white drop from a chicken you may heed"
"Construct the frame and kill the monster of flame"
"which can be found in a fortress that was claimed"
"When you finish, leave the realm and create the eyes"
"but hurry up, because time always flies"
Me:"Sounds difficult"
Aaron:"I got the blocks of black...which is obsidian"
Me:"We have to make a nether portal"
Aaron:"Alright...Lets split up and find the stuff"
After that he gave me Iron Armor and an Iron sword. we ran out and started collecting the items. As sunset arrives we arrived back at the house and crafted a flint and steel. We built the frame and lit the portal, we jumped in at the same time and immedietly we saw a nether fortress. We dived in and killed so many wither skeletons. We then arrived at a blaze spawner, and killed blazes. After getting 7 blaze rods each, we destroyed the spawner and headed back. When we arrived back at the house, there was a chest with a sigh over it saying "use it wisely" I opened it and there were 16 ender pearls. I then asked my brother what to do with these, he then said "I don't know...Maybe eye of enders....But I don't know how to make them" After hours of trying, we did it. We made about 21 eye of enders, we were throwing them while trying to find the end portal. After an hour we started digging down, we were almost there. Then I saw cracked stone bricks, and mined it. I fell and took some pain, but I didn't mind it. I saw another sign and read it.
You have made it this far
Now all you have to do is have a small spar
The winged black death is upon you
To save your family you must be forever true
I was slowly understanding what it meant, me and Aaron jumped in the portal and saw our other siblings. My older sister Megan, my younger brother Josh, and my little sister Bella. I was heading there to untie them, but I heard a roar which frightened the living day lights out of me. Aaron started shooting the crystals, while I shoot the dragon. It barreled towards me, so I rolled to the side and dodged it's attack. It roar in anger and turned around, Aaron then screamed "I GOT THEM!" the dragon then looked at him and barreled towards him. After a few seconds he got pushed back 16 blocks, and he was hurt. He drank a potion and kept fighting. After 30 minutes of fighting, I shot an arrow and hit it on the head. It then started exploding and slowly died. Then it rained down little colored orbs and made the portal home. I cut my sibling loose as we jumped back to the portal. Once we got home, we shut off the computers and I said "We must never speak of this to mum or dad at all" they nodded and resumed back to their normal lives.
"Ashen!" called a male voice. "Are you reading that book again to yourself?"
"Dav, what's wrong with it? I'm interested in what happened back then. It's definately more interesting than staying in this... boring village all day."
******************************
Ashen, Dav and Laney were three friends. They lived in a small village far away from everybody else. They each had a small house, with a bed, chest, furnace and a few others in each one. Ashen's had a bookcase. They
rarely left the village, and Ashen had never left. They grew their own food and had a stable for the three horses. Ashen's was a light brown one she named Epona.
Later that night, Ashen heard a noise outside. She threw open her door and saw a blinding light. "Ashen, you must leave. A dangerous creature has escaped its prision. You must gather the three dragon eggs, head to the Temple
of Time in Castle Town, imprision the great creature and find out who you really are. The Great Deku Tree will tell you more. He resides in the temple far in the desert now. Go now, and be brave."
"Wait! I have-" Ashen started, but it was too late. Dav and Laney came rushing out of their houses. "I'm sorry, but I must leave. I have a journey to go on." Ashen told them as she mounted
Epona. As she was on the path to the desert, she heard two other horses.
"We're not leaving without you!" the other two Minecraftians said as they started their journey.
******************************
After what felt like forever, the three friends arrived at the temple. Ashen ran upstairs to find the Great Deku Tree. "Great Deku Tree, I was sent here to find you." Ashen said with great happiness.
"Yes, I was told you would come to me. We do not have much time. You will find the first deep in an underground safe out here in this desert. You will find the second in the Great Hall of the North. The final one is in the ruins deep
in a jungle city. Go now, Ashen. Find who you truly are. When you have the three eggs, return to me and I will send you to the Castle of the Three Sisters."
"Got it. Come on, Dav and Laney! We'll go find those eggs!" Ashen yelled. She knew she would find them.
******************************
Ashen was getting tired of walking when she saw a girl about her age. "Hey!" she called out.
"Ah don't think ah've ya 'round here before." the strange girl said.
"No. I don't get out much. Have you seen a dragon egg around here?"
The girl started shaking. "Uh, er, no. I mean yeah. Uh, not that ah have relation to it. Follow me." Ashen followed her. A few minutes later, they reached an opening. "Here ya go. Don't excpect me goin' down there. Spiders. Ah
hate them. Just follow the staircase." the girl shivered.
"Thank you!" Ashen said, running down the stairs. At the end of the path, she saw an exit to the outside. It looked like a small temple with a deep pit below it.
"Don't be scared," Ashen heard a familliar voice. "I'm tired of doing that stupid accent. My name is Fae. I'm a Dragon Sage. Please, take the egg."
"Thank you. I will protect it and save this world!" Ashen, Dav and Laney headed off for the cold north.
"Long long ago, when Minecraftia was just a barren wasteland, three dragons descended from the skies. They blessed the land with their powers and created a powerful race known as the Minecraftians. Before disappearing,
they left three eggs with three dragon sages. They also apppointed three sisters to be the queens of the land to keep order. When they left, an ancient evil known as the Wither escaped from below the surface of Minecraftia.
The youngest sister was brave and stood up against it. She used the power of the dragons' blessing to seal it away, but because of this, she disappeared into thin air. Since then, nobody-"
"Ashen!" called a male voice. "Are you reading that book again to yourself?"
"Dav, what's wrong with it? I'm interested in what happened back then. It's definately more interesting than staying in this... boring village all day."
******************************
As they reached the cold north, they saw an abandoned castle. "I wonder what it was used for." Laney wondered. They soon passed a second castle. It had started snowing, so they needed a place to stay. They heard someone
crying when they entered.
"Hello?" Ashen said.
"AHHHHHHH!" another girl said, running to the door. "Who are you?"
"I'm looking for a dragon egg."
"I know where it is. In fact, I was just headed to the Great Hall. Would you like to join me?"
"Sure. But why were you crying?"
"I'm tired of everyone calling me Queen. I'm not even the real queen, just someone chosen to rule when our kingdom fell apart."
"I'm sorry." the four walked towards the hall.
"By the way, my name's Lana." said the queen. "The Great Hall was carved from the mountain. It is also the only access to the jungle. It's really beautiful." Ashen was shocked at how magnificent it was. Colorful, intracite, she
loved being there. They followed Lana down the stairs. "Down here is the vault. Go on ahead, the dragon egg is in front of you. I am one of the Dragon Sages, so I wish for you to obtain it. Please, take care of it."
"I will" Ashen replied. They went upstairs and went down the hallway.
"Down there is the entrance to the Jungle. Be safe!" Lana called out to her new friends.
"Long long ago, when Minecraftia was just a barren wasteland, three dragons descended from the skies. They blessed the land with their powers and created a powerful race known as the Minecraftians. Before disappearing,
they left three eggs with three dragon sages. They also apppointed three sisters to be the queens of the land to keep order. When they left, an ancient evil known as the Wither escaped from below the surface of Minecraftia.
The youngest sister was brave and stood up against it. She used the power of the dragons' blessing to seal it away, but because of this, she disappeared into thin air. Since then, nobody-"
"Ashen!" called a male voice. "Are you reading that book again to yourself?"
"Dav, what's wrong with it? I'm interested in what happened back then. It's definately more interesting than staying in this... boring village all day."
******************************
"It sure is nice here" Laney said about the jungle. It was really sunny there. They took a railway to the jungle city. However, when it reached its destination, there was only one person.
"My name's Ryan. Please, hurry. I am a Dragon Sage. My egg was in the temple, but it... it attacked. I had to hide it. Please, follow me down this path." And so the four walked down a path, spreading across many islands.
"Here's the temple" It was ruined. They walked to the basement and Ryan retrieved it. "Here you go. I can return you the Great Deku Tree." Ryan brought up.
"That would be wonderful. Thank you for your help." Ashen said as Ryan said some words and the trio appeared back at the Deku Tree's temple.
******************************
"Ashen, you must do this alone. Dav, Laney, you will see her soon." The Great Deku Tree said. "Ashen, are you ready?"
"Yep." Ashen said. She closed her eyes and reopened them at the Temple of Time. She went inside and placed the three dragon eggs down. A door opened in front of her, and she drew the Sword of Time. She noticed everything
changing around her. "What's going on!?" she cried.
"Young sister, do not be afraid. You are going into the past to imprision the Wither. Let the powers of the dragons guide you..." Ashen saw the same light she saw a few nights ago that started her on this journey. She followed a dirt
path in this new barren wasteland and found a giant, death black creature with three heads. It hissed at her.
"Young Dragon Queen, have you returned to put an end to me? Return me to my prision? If so, you're foolish." it said, sending skeletons that looked like the Wither. Ashen fought them off.
"I don't know what you mean, but with this sword, I will imprision you!" she said. She stabbed it through its chest, relizing something. She had the power to imprision it.
"No... NO! My plans are foiled! You will pay one day! YOU WILL PAY!" it said, fading into mist.
"Thank you little sister. We have one more request." Two beautifully dressed girls appeared. "Will you return as the lost Dragon Queen?"
******************************
A few days later, Dev and Lana found out that their best friend was the lost Dragon Queen. Over time, they got to live in the castle of the Dragon Sisters. Many years passed, and Ashen returned the dragon eggs to their rightful
places and guardians. Ashen also found out one more thing: Even thoguh you may be important, you can never lose friendships.
"RUFF! RUFF! RUFF!" barked Rowdy, wanting attention. He hasn't really gotten his daily petting/color dying since Jack started making, well, whatever the heck he was making!
"****! THAT WAS THE MOST IMPORTANT PIECE! And now its broken," Jack exclaimed. The super-atomic-desembler-then-transport-and-reassemble do-hicky was broken. The super-atomic-desembler-then-transport-and-reassemble do-hicky was also extremely expensive too! Jack had to save up his money for 15 years before he could start this project, longing to see the old, bright grass of Minecraftia. "Sigh..."
Rowdy whined, realizing he caused something to go wrong. But what did he do? He wanted to help fix this mess!
After stalking and listening to his masters muttering at night, he learned what Jack wanted! To see the old generation of Minecraftia and all the bright colors. And so, Rowdy had his first go at modifying reality. Rowdy struggled to do so. He has never programmed before, so he had to completely learn Java from scratch!
He didn't even know what RME (Reality Modding Environment) to use to make his modifications work! He was confused. How did the physics of Minecraftia build its own world long ago? And even before that, he didn't even know how to type! But he did it.
Rowdy left a page open in Word saying what he has done, "Jack, I went through all this for you! I learned to type and program in Java so you could have the old terrain generation back! Sadly, you can't go back in time, but this is the best I could do."
Two. She looked back, and she saw black. The absence of color, looking for her. Trying to capture her. She couldn’t breathe very well, the wind slipped past her too fast, playing with her. An unfriendly game.
Three. It grabbed at her ankles and slipped into her skin and chilled her bones. She felt cold. Her teeth chattered and her vision became blurred every few moments, shifting in uneven waves that vibrated annoyingly in her throat.
Four. She was almost there, to wherever there was. It was climbing up her legs, and she couldn’t feel her knees anymore, but she kept running. How, she did not, but she knew she had to keep going. She had to.
Five. She could see it. It was crawling, wrapping itself around her waist, and she was left with her head and her upper torso, and she did not want to run anymore. She never did. She had to. An end would come either way, there is hope.
Six. The color kaleidoscope path was right ahead, if she could just reach her past, she might be able to make it. Fix her life, fix her. It was crawling up her chest and her hands. She shook and struggled, the grass grabbing her legs in which she could no longer feel. She saw herself ahead. She might make it.
Seven. She could see her windblown hair and the small features of her face and she was only a few hours away.
Eight. She could see the autumn trees in the background and the sun against her skin. She was only an hour away. She reached out her hand, but she felt none, and she only felt her head, her neck and her hair, blowing wildly against her pale skin.
Nine. She saw the shadow and the light, and she could tell the difference. She was only a minute away, she would make it. She could save herself and she could save him. Her. Him. The black wrapped itself around her neck and she couldn’t breathe. She could only feel her face and the skin around it.
Ten. A second away, this was the worst. Her face was fading away and the black was seeping into her heart and her blood. White. Against black. She was almost there. She fell and the black took over her, and she disappeared into the Nowhere.
Or perhaps the Somewhere. She had so wanted to save him. To save her. They were apart, on the other sides, opposite sides of the Nowhere and the Somewhere. They were just there.
In the past, she sat on the park bench. Surrounded by the autumn leaves and the sun, a hand over her shoulder. His windswept hair, brown and gold, and his blue eyes. Her brown hair and her green eyes. Then he came.
There was a loud BAM! and a bullet was shot. He fell on to the ground, confused and hurting. His heart, his chest, it had flew right through it. She was too late, and another BAM! was heard. Lying on the ground, that was their last minute, and they held their hands tight and they closed their eyes.
She was surrounded by the black and he was surrounded by the white. Lost in time, trying to run to the past. A second more, and she would’ve fixed it. No, it was too late.
On the front page of the newspaper that day, in the past, said: LOCAL GIRL AND BOY SHOT AT PARK. That was the end of it.
With it, did the last grain of their minute glass fall, and it was done.
“Well done.” he said cordially in his usual soft, purring German accent, his voice calm even as his eyes continued to flick rapidly from piece to piece, trying to determine what he might have done differently to win. The man in the silver suit chuckled softly. They were both sitting in large, comfortable-looking red velvet armchairs on opposite sides of a large dark brown oak wood table. On the table sat a large, ornate chessboard made of black and white marble and a series of elaborately sculpted marble chess pieces. They sat in a large room with walls made of the same dark brown wood and a floor carpeted with a rich crimson satin rug. A large fireplace made of dark gray stone sat next to the table and armchairs and a blazing orange fire within it cast long tendrils of shadow across the room.
The man in the armchair to the right of the table wore a suit made of silver silk and a black bowtie. His cuffs were white and studded with simple gold cufflinks, and his pants were made of a rich black wool. He appeared to be in his late fifties, and had combed black hair streaked with silver and a silver beard. His smile revealed a row of polished white teeth. His eyes were a bright brown and shone with the spark of vast wisdom. He sat upright again and began to gather the chess pieces, placing them neatly back in their initial positions with a calculated meticulousness. “Are you really that surprised, Karl?” he asked without looking up at the other man. He gave another small laugh. “I’ve played the game for some thirty years now. And even if I hadn’t I can always read you like the back of my hand. How could I not win?”
“I suppose you’re right. Chess is an old man’s game.” said the man in the armchair to the left of the table, eliciting another laugh from his companion. Karl wore a suit made of black silk, and a bright crimson bowtie. His cuffs, too, were white, though his cufflinks were silver instead of gold and had the sheen that came only with recent purchase. His pants were black and striped with silver. He appeared to be in his late twenties, and had combed black hair that he had gelled in place and a short black beard. His eyes, too, were a bright brown, but unlike his companion his contained not wisdom but a blazing, fiery ambition. He sat up and spoke again. “Well, it has been a pleasure playing with you. However the night is becoming quite late, and I would suggest we proceed to opening a bottle of wine and discussing anything you’d like to discuss, if that’s alright with you?”
“Of course.” said the man in the silver suit. Karl nodded.
“Leon!” he called into the hall beyond the doorway. “Would you bring the Bavarian Wine?” In a few minutes a sharply dressed man in a white doublet and black pants hurried through the door, holding a silver tray. He had brown hair and looked to be in his early twenties. He smiled eagerly at Karl and the man in the silver suit before setting the tray down on the table. Sitting placidly on it’s shimmering metallic surface were two thin crystal wine glasses and a bottle of wine with a large brown cork. Karl picked up a wineglass and set it on his side of the chessboard, and motioned for the man in the silver suit to do the same. With one swift flick of his hand, Leon drew a small silver corkscrew from his pocket and unscrewed the cork, allowing it to fall into his open hand. Then, he picked up the wine bottle and poured a sparkling, foamy red wine into each of their glasses.
When he was finished, he picked up the silver tray again and looked expectantly at Karl. “Can I fetch you and your guest anything else, Master Wulff?”
“No, I think that’ll be all. Thank you Leon.” said Karl. Leon continued to smile at both of them and bowed shortly before returning to the hallway outside of the room. Once he was gone, the man in the silver suit flashed Karl an amused smile. Karl shrugged. “The estate needs servants if it’s going to be properly maintained. Leon’s not a bad fellow, just a bit tight in the collar for my tastes.” Karl paused to take a sip of the wine. He set the wine glass down and seemed to silently contemplate the quality of the wine before speaking again. “Marvelous, no? I hand picked it from perhaps a dozen samples at the vineyard. I’m told it’s from the person wine cellar of a Bavarian nobleman, a duke or a count I think. Costly, but what is wealth if not a means toward luxury?” At this the man in the silver suit burst into laughter. Karl looked at him cynically, confused and slightly indignant. “What’s so funny?” he asked.
“Which memoir did you read that one in?” asked the man in the silver suit between short chuckles. “Honestly Karl, if nothing else, you make an incredibly amusing millionaire.” Karl grinned sheepishly.
“Can you blame me?” he asked. “Ever since last month it’s all been a whirlwind of nice clothes and seaside estates and . I’m drunk on wine half the time and drunk on power the other half.” He tipped back his head and smiled, as though savoring the wealth. After a few moments of silence he turned to the man in the silver suit and smiled at him slyly. “I’m sure you can relate.”
“Yes, I can. But you’ve seen nothing yet. I can tell you Karl, there is very little that a man cannot enjoy in this world with a hundred million Euros at his beck and call.” At this Karl’s eyes widened suddenly and he nearly spit out his wine.
“A hundred million?” he managed to gasp after sputtering for a few seconds. “You turned five million Euros into a hundred million?”
“You didn’t really think this was it, did you? This little estate, a few servants? This is only the beginning.” The man in the silver suit spread his arms wide in a grand gesture and smiled at Karl. “But I didn’t expect you to think that far ahead, at least not yet. You have ambition, Karl, but not drive.” He picked up a small white marble pawn from the chessboard in his left hand and focused on it, his eyes widened in contemplation. He stroked it’s chiseled helm with his finger. “What is the difference between this pawn, one of twenty on the board, completely expendable, and the white king?”
Karl looked at him, puzzled. “Well, if a pawn dies the game goes on. If the king dies the game is over.”
“Yes.” said the man in the silver suit. “But both can die, eventually. Both are men. Neither is immortal, neither fully in control of their own destiny. One wears a crown and the other a helmet, but at the end of the day there is only one real difference between the two. A pawn is nearly useless, a simple foot soldier, a life of little weight on the battlefield, endlessly able to sacrifice its own life with little cost if it will hurt the enemy. A king needs to live, a king must live. A king has the weight of the game on his shoulders. Therefore, when a player acts as a pawn, their desire to survive extends only as far as the limited usefulness of the pawn’s life. When a player acts as a king, their desire to survive extends as far as they value winning the game. A player acting as a pawn has almost no drive, while a player acting as a king has infinite drive. Infinite will to succeed. Something I, and, in another life, you, created for ourselves.”
“But you don’t have the drive I had once. You have a different drive, bred of different emotions. You don’t know what it’s like to work in a dead end job for thirty years in a gray cubicle on the fourth floor of some godforsaken office building in Bavaria. You haven’t been embittered by being passed up for a promotion for the fourth time because your boss simply can’t be bothered, come home to a dusty apartment full of half-finished notes and old furniture that you can’t afford to replace, have your heart broken by that Viola you’re always talking about because ‘you’re a really nice guy, but the relationship isn’t going anywhere’.” As he spoke the man’s voice became steadily louder, and his hand began to tremble slightly. Realizing he was losing his composure, he took a deep breath and turned to Karl with a final frosted gaze. “But thanks to you and me, you won’t need to. We’ve saved you from that Karl. Thirty years of tinkering madly in that apartment by the light of a single dim bulb has saved you from that. And now, finally, we can turn to pursuing what ultimately drives us: the hope of creating a brighter, greater future for you and me.”
“One has a lot of time to think in thirty years of near-complete isolation from the outside world.” continued the man in the silver suit. “I kept myself updated on finances, stocks, rising companies. There are ways to turn nothing into five million Euros, as you have, and then turn five million into ten or twenty, or a hundred or a thousand. I have a path for you, Karl, a path of investments and business deals that will, in the end, work very prosperously for both of us. But I am, quite literally, getting ahead of myself. These are discussions to be had another time. The night really is getting late, and I should be on my way soon. For now, I want you to enjoy yourself. You, and I, have earned it.”
“I am.” said Karl, shortly. “I had no idea what you sacrificed to make this happen. You have my thanks, of course.”
“And I accept them. But don’t feel sorry for me.” said the man in the silver suit. “Those sacrifices will soon be entirely made up for. I have only your best interests at heart, Karl. Think nothing of it. You would have done the same for me.” Suddenly, he drew an object from his pocket and brought it to his eyes. In the light of the fire, Karl saw it was a thin silver pocket watch with a long silver chain that wound down and disappeared into the man’s pocket. The man in the silver suit stared at the glass surface of the timepiece for a few moments before looking back at Karl and speaking again. “It is late, Karl. I should be going soon. It has been a pleasure meeting you. Before I go, however, there is one thing I would like to see, if you would be fine with it.”
“Anything.” said Karl.
“Could I see the ticket. One more time?”
“Of course.” said Karl, fumbling in the pocket of his black pants until he found a small, slightly torn piece of paper, about the size of cinema ticket. He held it up to the light of the fire, now reduced to a few sparks and embers, and held it out to the man in the silver suit. It was red, and bore the black, gaudy designs of a casino at it’s edges. Printed on it’s surface were five numbers in a simple black font: 8, 19, 26, 38 and 57. The other man took it slowly, as though he were afraid it was not entirely real and would shatter at his touch. When he gazed upon it his eyes began to fill with the spark of nostalgia, and a thin smile crossed his lips, as though he were seeing a long-lost friend again after years apart. Karl watched his silent reverie curiously. “I kept it with me, of course. Somehow, I don’t think I could ever get rid of it. It’s like a good luck charm, I suppose.”
“Neither do I.” said the other man. He reached into the same pocket he had pulled the pocket watch out of, and withdrew a small object. He set it on the table, and set the other ticket next to it. It was the same ticket, a bright red with black designs and writing, though much more worn and tarnished. On it were printed the same five numbers: 8, 19, 26, 38 and 57. The man in the silver suit smiled again, and laughed. “I’ve kept it with me all these years. To bring good luck, yes. But also to remind me that I am the master of my own destiny. Five numbers. Just five simple numbers made it all happen. Five numbers on a red lottery ticket.” He laughed again, and turned his gaze to the fire.
He handed the red ticket back to Karl. “It really is time for me to be going.” he said, checking his pocket watch. He looked at the silver pocket watch closely, and began to turn the small silver dials on it’s side with precise, methodical motions of his fingers. He left only a large circular piston on the side unchanged. “I should return to my own time now. We will meet again, and there will be specifics to discuss. But for now, Karl, I want you to have some fun. Go out, enjoy life. Tell Viola a mutual friend said hello. Go out, take her somewhere nice. Berlin maybe, or Paris or Geneva or anywhere you like. And know that I’m proud of you.”
“Thank you.” said Karl, with a short smile. “I eagerly await our next meeting.” He raised his wine glass. “Cheers, Mr. Wulff.”
The man in the silver suit pressed the large piston, and, almost immediately, small silver sparks began to fly out of the silver pocket watch. The flew around him, becoming quickly larger and greater in quantity. A sphere of silver light began to envelope him.
“Call me by my first name.” said the man in the silver suit with a final laugh, raising his wine glass to meet Karl’s. “Cheers, Karl.”
“Cheers, Karl.” said Karl, clinking his wine glass against that of the man in the silver suit. The sound of glass shaking resonated through the room, and Karl watched as Karl was consumed by the silver light and his body disappeared entirely from view. He saw the other wine glass being lowered slowly, and heard it drop onto the table. The light became bright enough to make him shield his eyes for a moment, and had evaporated into the air as soon as he opened them. There was no trace of Karl or the silver pocket watch left. Karl sat up, his wine glass still raised. He looked at the red ticket in his right hand for a few moments before putting it slowly back in his pocket. He looked at the empty armchair where only a few moments before had sat another Karl, a Karl from a different time. He smiled at it, and raised his wine glass again, clinking it against the air. “Cheer’s Karl.” he said to the empty room, before laughing shortly to himself and draining the last drops of red wine in the wine glass.
Bavarian Wine - Words: 2755
“Well done.” he said cordially in his usual soft, purring German accent, his voice calm even as his eyes continued to flick rapidly from piece to piece, trying to determine what he might have done differently to win. The man in the silver suit chuckled softly. They were both sitting in large, comfortable-looking red velvet armchairs on opposite sides of a large dark brown oak wood table. On the table sat a large, ornate chessboard made of black and white marble and a series of elaborately sculpted marble chess pieces. They sat in a large room with walls made of the same dark brown wood and a floor carpeted with a rich crimson satin rug. A large fireplace made of dark gray stone sat next to the table and armchairs and a blazing orange fire within it cast long tendrils of shadow across the room.
The man in the armchair to the right of the table wore a suit made of silver silk and a black bowtie. His cuffs were white and studded with simple gold cufflinks, and his pants were made of a rich black wool. He appeared to be in his late fifties, and had combed black hair streaked with silver and a silver beard. His smile revealed a row of polished white teeth. His eyes were a bright brown and shone with the spark of vast wisdom. He sat upright again and began to gather the chess pieces, placing them neatly back in their initial positions with a calculated meticulousness. “Are you really that surprised, Karl?” he asked without looking up at the other man. He gave another small laugh. “I’ve played the game for some thirty years now. And even if I hadn’t I can always read you like the back of my hand. How could I not win?”
“I suppose you’re right. Chess is an old man’s game.” said the man in the armchair to the left of the table, eliciting another laugh from his companion. Karl wore a suit made of black silk, and a bright crimson bowtie. His cuffs, too, were white, though his cufflinks were silver instead of gold and had the sheen that came only with recent purchase. His pants were black and striped with silver. He appeared to be in his late twenties, and had combed black hair that he had gelled in place and a short black beard. His eyes, too, were a bright brown, but unlike his companion his contained not wisdom but a blazing, fiery ambition. He sat up and spoke again. “Well, it has been a pleasure playing with you. However the night is becoming quite late, and I would suggest we proceed to opening a bottle of wine and discussing anything you’d like to discuss, if that’s alright with you?”
“Of course.” said the man in the silver suit. Karl nodded.
“Leon!” he called into the hall beyond the doorway. “Would you bring the Bavarian Wine?” In a few minutes a sharply dressed man in a white doublet and black pants hurried through the door, holding a silver tray. He had brown hair and looked to be in his early twenties. He smiled eagerly at Karl and the man in the silver suit before setting the tray down on the table. Sitting placidly on it’s shimmering metallic surface were two thin crystal wine glasses and a bottle of wine with a large brown cork. Karl picked up a wineglass and set it on his side of the chessboard, and motioned for the man in the silver suit to do the same. With one swift flick of his hand, Leon drew a small silver corkscrew from his pocket and unscrewed the cork, allowing it to fall into his open hand. Then, he picked up the wine bottle and poured a sparkling, foamy red wine into each of their glasses.
When he was finished, he picked up the silver tray again and looked expectantly at Karl. “Can I fetch you and your guest anything else, Master Wulff?”
“No, I think that’ll be all. Thank you Leon.” said Karl. Leon continued to smile at both of them and bowed shortly before returning to the hallway outside of the room. Once he was gone, the man in the silver suit flashed Karl an amused smile. Karl shrugged. “The estate needs servants if it’s going to be properly maintained. Leon’s not a bad fellow, just a bit tight in the collar for my tastes.” Karl paused to take a sip of the wine. He set the wine glass down and seemed to silently contemplate the quality of the wine before speaking again. “Marvelous, no? I hand picked it from perhaps a dozen samples at the vineyard. I’m told it’s from the person wine cellar of a Bavarian nobleman, a duke or a count I think. Costly, but what is wealth if not a means toward luxury?” At this the man in the silver suit burst into laughter. Karl looked at him cynically, confused and slightly indignant. “What’s so funny?” he asked.
“Which memoir did you read that one in?” asked the man in the silver suit between short chuckles. “Honestly Karl, if nothing else, you make an incredibly amusing millionaire.” Karl grinned sheepishly.
“Can you blame me?” he asked. “Ever since last month it’s all been a whirlwind of nice clothes and seaside estates and . I’m drunk on wine half the time and drunk on power the other half.” He tipped back his head and smiled, as though savoring the wealth. After a few moments of silence he turned to the man in the silver suit and smiled at him slyly. “I’m sure you can relate.”
“Yes, I can. But you’ve seen nothing yet. I can tell you Karl, there is very little that a man cannot enjoy in this world with a hundred million Euros at his beck and call.” At this Karl’s eyes widened suddenly and he nearly spit out his wine.
“A hundred million?” he managed to gasp after sputtering for a few seconds. “You turned five million Euros into a hundred million?”
“You didn’t really think this was it, did you? This little estate, a few servants? This is only the beginning.” The man in the silver suit spread his arms wide in a grand gesture and smiled at Karl. “But I didn’t expect you to think that far ahead, at least not yet. You have ambition, Karl, but not drive.” He picked up a small white marble pawn from the chessboard in his left hand and focused on it, his eyes widened in contemplation. He stroked it’s chiseled helm with his finger. “What is the difference between this pawn, one of twenty on the board, completely expendable, and the white king?”
Karl looked at him, puzzled. “Well, if a pawn dies the game goes on. If the king dies the game is over.”
“Yes.” said the man in the silver suit. “But both can die, eventually. Both are men. Neither is immortal, neither fully in control of their own destiny. One wears a crown and the other a helmet, but at the end of the day there is only one real difference between the two. A pawn is nearly useless, a simple foot soldier, a life of little weight on the battlefield, endlessly able to sacrifice its own life with little cost if it will hurt the enemy. A king needs to live, a king must live. A king has the weight of the game on his shoulders. Therefore, when a player acts as a pawn, their desire to survive extends only as far as the limited usefulness of the pawn’s life. When a player acts as a king, their desire to survive extends as far as they value winning the game. A player acting as a pawn has almost no drive, while a player acting as a king has infinite drive. Infinite will to succeed. Something I, and, in another life, you, created for ourselves.”
“But you don’t have the drive I had once. You have a different drive, bred of different emotions. You don’t know what it’s like to work in a dead end job for thirty years in a gray cubicle on the fourth floor of some godforsaken office building in Bavaria. You haven’t been embittered by being passed up for a promotion for the fourth time because your boss simply can’t be bothered, come home to a dusty apartment full of half-finished notes and old furniture that you can’t afford to replace, have your heart broken by that Viola you’re always talking about because ‘you’re a really nice guy, but the relationship isn’t going anywhere’.” As he spoke the man’s voice became steadily louder, and his hand began to tremble slightly. Realizing he was losing his composure, he took a deep breath and turned to Karl with a final frosted gaze. “But thanks to you and me, you won’t need to. We’ve saved you from that Karl. Thirty years of tinkering madly in that apartment by the light of a single dim bulb has saved you from that. And now, finally, we can turn to pursuing what ultimately drives us: the hope of creating a brighter, greater future for you and me.”
“One has a lot of time to think in thirty years of near-complete isolation from the outside world.” continued the man in the silver suit. “I kept myself updated on finances, stocks, rising companies. There are ways to turn nothing into five million Euros, as you have, and then turn five million into ten or twenty, or a hundred or a thousand. I have a path for you, Karl, a path of investments and business deals that will, in the end, work very prosperously for both of us. But I am, quite literally, getting ahead of myself. These are discussions to be had another time. The night really is getting late, and I should be on my way soon. For now, I want you to enjoy yourself. You, and I, have earned it.”
“I am.” said Karl, shortly. “I had no idea what you sacrificed to make this happen. You have my thanks, of course.”
“And I accept them. But don’t feel sorry for me.” said the man in the silver suit. “Those sacrifices will soon be entirely made up for. I have only your best interests at heart, Karl. Think nothing of it. You would have done the same for me.” Suddenly, he drew an object from his pocket and brought it to his eyes. In the light of the fire, Karl saw it was a thin silver pocket watch with a long silver chain that wound down and disappeared into the man’s pocket. The man in the silver suit stared at the glass surface of the timepiece for a few moments before looking back at Karl and speaking again. “It is late, Karl. I should be going soon. It has been a pleasure meeting you. Before I go, however, there is one thing I would like to see, if you would be fine with it.”
“Anything.” said Karl.
“Could I see the ticket. One more time?”
“Of course.” said Karl, fumbling in the pocket of his black pants until he found a small, slightly torn piece of paper, about the size of cinema ticket. He held it up to the light of the fire, now reduced to a few sparks and embers, and held it out to the man in the silver suit. It was red, and bore the black, gaudy designs of a casino at it’s edges. Printed on it’s surface were five numbers in a simple black font: 8, 19, 26, 38 and 57. The other man took it slowly, as though he were afraid it was not entirely real and would shatter at his touch. When he gazed upon it his eyes began to fill with the spark of nostalgia, and a thin smile crossed his lips, as though he were seeing a long-lost friend again after years apart. Karl watched his silent reverie curiously. “I kept it with me, of course. Somehow, I don’t think I could ever get rid of it. It’s like a good luck charm, I suppose.”
“Neither do I.” said the other man. He reached into the same pocket he had pulled the pocket watch out of, and withdrew a small object. He set it on the table, and set the other ticket next to it. It was the same ticket, a bright red with black designs and writing, though much more worn and tarnished. On it were printed the same five numbers: 8, 19, 26, 38 and 57. The man in the silver suit smiled again, and laughed. “I’ve kept it with me all these years. To bring good luck, yes. But also to remind me that I am the master of my own destiny. Five numbers. Just five simple numbers made it all happen. Five numbers on a red lottery ticket.” He laughed again, and turned his gaze to the fire.
He handed the red ticket back to Karl. “It really is time for me to be going.” he said, checking his pocket watch. He looked at the silver pocket watch closely, and began to turn the small silver dials on it’s side with precise, methodical motions of his fingers. He left only a large circular piston on the side unchanged. “I should return to my own time now. We will meet again, and there will be specifics to discuss. But for now, Karl, I want you to have some fun. Go out, enjoy life. Tell Viola a mutual friend said hello. Go out, take her somewhere nice. Berlin maybe, or Paris or Geneva or anywhere you like. And know that I’m proud of you.”
“Thank you.” said Karl, with a short smile. “I eagerly await our next meeting.” He raised his wine glass. “Cheers, Mr. Wulff.”
The man in the silver suit pressed the large piston, and, almost immediately, small silver sparks began to fly out of the silver pocket watch. The flew around him, becoming quickly larger and greater in quantity. A sphere of silver light began to envelope him.
“Call me by my first name.” said the man in the silver suit with a final laugh, raising his wine glass to meet Karl’s. “Cheers, Karl.”
“Cheers, Karl.” said Karl, clinking his wine glass against that of the man in the silver suit. The sound of glass shaking resonated through the room, and Karl watched as Karl was consumed by the silver light and his body disappeared entirely from view. He saw the other wine glass being lowered slowly, and heard it drop onto the table. The light became bright enough to make him shield his eyes for a moment, and had evaporated into the air as soon as he opened them. There was no trace of Karl or the silver pocket watch left. Karl sat up, his wine glass still raised. He looked at the red ticket in his right hand for a few moments before putting it slowly back in his pocket. He looked at the empty armchair where only a few moments before had sat another Karl, a Karl from a different time. He smiled at it, and raised his wine glass again, clinking it against the air. “Cheer’s Karl.” he said to the empty room, before laughing shortly to himself and draining the last drops of red wine in the wine glass.
Mandatory, 3 words to form mold of said story.
minimum word count for story is 200 words.
Poems have no minimum.
This Theme...
There is a week.
And i am meaning this to be a hub for writing contests.
(Seeing if the first one works though.
Not sure what awards might be though...
A Short Story by FlyingPig6789
It is sunset. I spent my first day in this strange blocky world punching down trees and mining some stone. I also built a little wooden square as a cottage to provide shelter for me. The sun has now set, and evil creatures are coming out of hiding. Rotting green people who reek of death burst out of the ground. They are clearly some kind of undead. Accompanying them are skeletons with rotting flesh hanging off some of their bones, wielding bows. Giant hairy spiders crawl out of caves and climb to the top of cliffs
But, worst of all is the thing made of dead leaves. I was a sickly green and constantly wore an expression of pain. One of them walks up to my and the house and explodes. I am shot out and into the night of terror. The zombies shuffle towards me, skeletons draw their bows. The spiders leap for me, and I think it is all over. I reluctantly daw out my sword, and begin to defend myself.
I easily decapitate the zombies and cut some of the spiders in half. The others leap on me, and I am overwhelmed. Luckily, when I fell to the ground I dodged all of the skeleton’s arrows. Another leaf thing rushes up to me and explodes. I fly away, and my sword shatters. At least the blast killed the remaining spiders. An arrow pierces my shoulder, then another. I am dying fast.
I pick up the bone of a fallen skeleton and use it as a club. I successfully use it to kill two skeletons, three zombies, four spiders, and a leaf thing. I am starting regain my strength and confidence. I charge at a skeleton and pull its head off. I throw the head at a leaf thing and knock it out.
The sun begins to rise. Once the sun is fully risen, the undead burst into flames and the spiders retreat back into their caves. All the leaf things except one all retreat. The last one sneaks behind me and tries to explode. I use the bone club one last time, and impale the leaf thing’s face. I have survived the night of terrors.
by sc1020 AKA Slade
They say the night is a dangerous place. Anyone can. I don't blame them. I want to tell you a story that involves this. A disturbing story that scared me out of my wits. About one of the many terrors that come at night.
I was walking through the forest one night to confirm a rumor. They said my brother died in these very woods. They say his ghost haunts them forever. The spruce trees were close together and I placed a torch on every one, creating a trail back in case I got lost.
Then I noticed that it got darker still. I turned around to see a torch had just gone out. In fact, all of them were out.
“Who's there?” I asked, “Is it you, Hunter? Or... your ghost?”
“Jacob?” a voice called. It sounded scared and alone Through the trees I saw someone sitting, as if they were hiding. It was my brother, Hunter. He was alive all right.
“Hunter! You're alive!” I yelled, hugging him.
“Ssssh!” Hunter said, “It'll hear you.”
“What'll hear me?” I asked.
“I can't tell you,” he said, “It might attack me or even you.”
“Listen,” I said, “It's been two weeks. These creepy woods are just getting to you.”
“Here it comes!” he yelled. I turned around and saw a figure rushing towards me. Its eyes glowed purple. It made strange gurgling noises. It grabbed me and threw me across the forest into a tree, heading for Hunter.
I took out my bow and shot a single arrow straight at my head. It vanished, appearing at my side and punching me to the ground. I took out my best sword and swung at its feet, getting back up.
It vanished again and appeared, grabbing Hunter once again. I ran towards it. It turned, using only its fists to oppose me. Its mouth opened wide. It ran towards me at a frightening speed. I slashed and it blocked.
“You're not hunting my brother,” I said, “No matter what you do.”
“But you don't understand,” the figure said, “He is mine. You are mine. You two are... offering. I take you to dragon and he spares me and my family.”
“I'm sorry, but all your kind does is harm people!” I yelled, stabbing it. It vanished before the sword hit. I ducked as it punched me from behind. But it put its arm over my head and pulled me back. It just just about to make its final blow on me when someone stabbed it.
It turned around, but saw no one. Yet I saw Hunter, plain as day. He was wearing a pumpkin on his head.
“You can't see me,” Hunter said, “But I can see you. I will haunt you until you leave my brother alone. You see, I protect him and he protects me. You'll never find us. You think you scare us, but in reality, we scare you.”
“No, it's not true!” the enderman said, “My race is the one that haunts people. How are you striking me? I cannot see you!”
Hunter grabbed me and pushed me out of the way, stabbing the enderman in the chest. It fell to the ground, trickling purple blood and then vanishing. All that was left was a single pearl. I took Hunter home and we framed the pearl. We would always remember this day. It showed more than our love.
It showed that nothing could bring us apart.
So I fell asleep.
When I awoke, I found myself on the floor, as usual, with the bright morning sun rudely trying to blind me through the small window situated above my bed itself.
The torches that lined the room were still burning, no surprise there. So what made me feel nervous?
"Eh... I just need to eat something." I eventually decided to myself.
The bedroom was, as mentioned before, rather small. However, small spaces can have many things inside of them. Take the four chests piled up in the corner of the room, nearly brushing against one of the torches. Or perhaps you'd like to hear about the other six chests that I had piled up on the spacious shelves lining the top of the room? Anyways, I stalked out of there fairly carefully (my home is not completely secure from the things that go bump in the night...) after grabbing a crudely crafted sword of stone. Technically, the sword was a club, as it had no point or anything to it, but oh well.
I had engraved certain runes into the leather hilt of it in order to try and protect myself against any attacking beasts. The funny thing is that it actually worked. Or perhaps that was just wishful thinking.
I exited the bedroom and entered the dark, chestnut colored, wooden hallway. I had lined it with paintings depicting scenes from my life: a beach bordered by a large, ominous forest with twisted, blackened trees writing in it's limits, a small hovel in the boughs of a tall, sturdy light brown tree that was surrounded by many other trees that looked nearly identical to the first, and, now, a giant mansion that covered the entirety of the giant tree's trunk. There were also pictures from intermediate phases, but they were things like the first time I saw one of the undead creatures, or the first time that I made a tool.
They were like visual journals. The hallway had no rooms connecting to it; I had no use for other rooms in this house. All of my activities took place in three of the four rooms that trailed down the tree at indeterminate positions. Tarrying in the hallway no further, I reached the end of it and saw that the ladders leading down were all broken. The rungs of the separate, dark ladders were twisted at odd angles - as if something ridiculously heavy had been using them.
Suddenly, I got a feeling on the back of my neck as if something was watching me. I quickly turned around to find... nothing. The hallway was empty. And by 'empty', I mean that the torches were all gone. The painting had vanished. Even the door at the end, the one that led back into my bedroom, had vanished.
Considering that I had never seen anything like this before, what I did next was perfectly acceptable. I jumped backwards and stammered... only to find myself falling out of the tree house, branches and twigs and leaves and all other sorts of chaotic things hitting me. Luckily, there was an almost broken branch on one of the lowest trees that broke my fall gently, just a few tenths of a second before I would have hit the ground. I lost it then.
I'm not sure how far I ran, or even where I ran. All I know is that I regained composure of myself inside the bowels of some sort of abandoned complex. I sit here in this small stone room and look out There to see red eyes looking back at me through the reinforced glass windows of the enclosure. I can't find the exit, and I know it's only some time before whatever is out there, haunting me, finds me in here.
Whoever finds this, if anyone finds this...
Do not proceed further. I'm past the point of fear and I am thinking calmly and logically now. Whatever is out There is likely to stay in here after it... you know, gets rid of me.
Goodbye.
/\/\/\
There are some sketches of a nightmarish creature resembling a giant ball of clay with glowing red eyes here. You look up, the torch's feeble light is sputtering mysteriously. Frowning, you put the book into your backpack and go back the way you came in, through the many old, cracked stone rooms... and cells.
From the cells, you can hear many strange noises. And, occasionally, you can catch glimpses of strange creatures that appear to be giant undead people.
You have no doubt in your mind as to the truth of this man's words, and, as such, you begin running towards the exit. Your fine leather shoes usually make nearly no sound, but in this complex, they make huge reverberating echoes that carry down into the depths of the earth.
Suddenly, you come upon an intersection. You believe that you had turned right here when you came down first, so you turn left. A giant amorphous blob that is so hideously disgusting that it cannot be described in sitting in the pathway... luckily, it seems to be facing the other direction. How it has not heard you by now, you do not know. What you do know is that you are now trapped it here, just like that man was...
You turn and run the other way. A giant bellow - like a baby's screams - vibrates your bones as you stumble through the ever darkening passages. Suddenly, something slimy wraps itself around your stomach.
You know that it's the end.
“You cannot sleep now. There are monsters nearby.” said the bed.
“Oh no…” I thought. As I sat thinking about what to do next, I started hearing them. Bang, bang. Groan…I could hear the zombies trying to get in. Hiss, hiss. I could hear the creeper time bombs ticking outside my home. I could hear the warbles of an enderman, wanting to take my blocks. I could hear the rattling bones of the skeletons just waiting for me to come out.
As I was trying to think a way out of this, an enderman came and took a block out of my home. Suddenly, every monster nearby was at the opening, arrows whizzing by my head, zombies poking their arms through, creepers poking their heads through, and more endermen coming and taking more of the blocks, until there was barely any wall left.
The monsters were starting to flood my home, creepers, endermen, skeletons, and zombies. I took my bed and everything I could fit inside my inventory from my chest, and ran for the hills. After running a mile or so, I saw a small opening in a hill, a cavern. When I walked in, there were no monsters in sight. I breathed a sigh of relief.
I placed my bed down. The pillow looked like a soft cloud, and the blanket like a warm hug. I fell back into the wonderful, soft warmth of the bed, and slept a deep sleep. Though it was a deep sleep, it was not a pleasant one.
I saw in that dream all the events from the previous night. The late wood-collecting trip, the monsters surrounding my house, me running away, and finally, me ending up in this cave. The one thing different about this dream however, was I woke to a creeper standing over my bed. Boom!
I woke up, partially because of the dream, partially because of the sun glaring in my eyes. I was still half-asleep and had the sun glaring in my eyes, so I couldn’t think straight or see correctly. I heard something similar to the hiss of a snake and the hoof beats of a horse next to my bed, and for some reason I thought it was my alarm clock. I hit it with my fist, hoping to shut it off, but the only thing that happened was that the hissing grew louder. As I came to my senses, I realized it was a creeper over my bed, and I just aggravated it.
“Oh Notch” was the last thing I thought before-Boom! All that was left was a giant crater and a lot of items.
He stumbled through the dark cave into a surreal mineshaft. At the end of the mineshaft was a chest. without hesitation steve strode towards it. Suddenly the light dissapeared, with the absence of light the mineshaft underwent a grotesque transformation. Behind him fires flew from nowhere! sprouting upon stone and wood alike, it raced towards him. A roar echoed from its depths as it consumed him.
He woke covered in a cold sweat feeling the heat of the fires rage over him still. "A dream?" He thought "It felt so real!" He turned his thoughts from his daydream and resumed mining. Slowly he smashed a two by two hole through the ground. After several minutes of this he broke a hole and found himself staring into a dark cave.
He smashed another so he could see better. A hiss behind him subsequently followed by a large explosion sent him flying headfirst into the cave. His tools fell from his hands as he flew through the air, scrambling he managed to grab his iron sword before he hit the ground. He rolled upon contact and came to his feet in a battle stance. His eyes adapted slowly and he made sillouettes out of the darkness.
He launched himself straight into their midst and sliced through two before heading in the opposite direction. He discerned light ahead of him and raced towards it. "Lava!" He exclaimed breathlessly. His eyes narrowed as he approached. The light source was not lava as he had hoped but a torch, leading into a mineshaft. He hopped up and blocked off the entrance before advancing along the wooden corridor.
At the end of the mineshaft he made out a chest sitting, waiting undoubtedly with treasures within. Steve advanced on it, but before he could pull it open he heard a noise from behind. He spun around and watched in horror as flames sprouted from the wood and stone and raced towards him. The heat was unbearable and he could make out a roar from within the flames. He felt it shrivel his clothes then consume him.
He pried his eyes open fearing the flames but found himself resting in a lower portion of his mine. He shook his head, His daydreaming needed to stop. He reached down and grabbed his pick and his sword and started digging a two by two mineshaft.
The decaying light that once illuminated this crypt was finally showing few sights of weakness, presumably the remaining amount of sun rays would quickly extinguish and, before Jacob's very own eyes, darkening the stone edges of the cavern. Either way, either ending, pure blackness and a ferocious murkiness was literally pulling him in a dismal magnetism, until Jacob managed to understand the nighttime began its reign in the most bloodcurdling manner. Hisses and grumbles echoed from the entrance of the den and absolutely exiting was not an option for now, perhaps later. Perhaps after the sun was born again, perhaps after the light burnt the creatures, children of the evil. This exact while was absolutely astounding and especially grim. Downwards, deeper in the cave, the lack of light seemed to smirk towards its new toy, another human who failed miserably in surviving.
Jacob's decision was to settle in the immediate location - personally, not the most shrewd decision. However, acceptable enough, assuming the man bones were shaking and hopping, trembling in terror.
His cunning ordered him to cover both entrances, but the common sense was clearly stating this was an unwise choice. Indeed, it was, and his single choice was to rise walls and trap himself in a cubicle, amongst two hostile positions. This would be compared to building a barrage in both ways of an estuary, eventually the water would storm through it. This was an imminent fact, although walls weren't technically reachable by monsters. Whatever, Jacob though. What matters is the prompt safety.
The walls were built to the top, easily reaching the ceiling. Ornate with torches whose flamboyant flames dissolved the last bits of black on his panic room. There was a chest armed with a few apples, breads, two or so used and weakened iron pickaxes, four stone shovels in perfect condition and a single diamond sword, apparently lacking in use. Apparently perfect. Two furnaces, crafted in a hurry movement, were lit with the charcoal harvested beforehand as Jacob speculated he would have to temporarily dwell inside the cave. On the entrance? Not a choice. Something about that region was extremely frightening, extremely somber, morose. The bloodthirsty energy, then. Not a choice, not a choice. Before the day reached its highest position in the skies, Jacob would be strolling in the plains located on the surface. But in the moment, he was inside a wormhole. How pathetic.
The dead of the night was terrifyingly silent, apparently way more serene than previous nights. Perhaps because the walls hampered the spawning on monsters, but that was a mere advantage rather than a problem to solve. However, three knocks broke the silence. Three knocks on the wall, and no mob was even able to perform such act. This was, from all of the most fearsome events in the history of Jacob's pitiful and three-weeks-long Minecraft life. He had learned that mobs were dumb as doors and they wouldn't bother on trying to storm his room. But three knocks. Not a choice. He remained silent, motionless, inside his cabin - the diamond sword in hand, brandished on front of the knocked wall; and the creature on the other side did the same. Not a single noise. Jacob HAD to discover this. But he couldn't go outside. No, no way. That was, definitively, not a good idea. Not a choice.
Jacob had a great idea afterwards. He created a clock. Jacob would wait until the clock marked dawn. Then, he'd storm the front and slay - on the utmost significance of this word - this creature. Although lacking on experience, Jacob revealed himself of being a sturdy swordsman. A perfect fencer in real life, as well. How amusing.
The clock marked two minutes - or hours, in the story's plane - after the first marks of the sun were visible and the monster's grumbles of burning were audible even inside the cubicle. These noises, blatantly gross egocentric, took all of Jacob's attention to the terror-mob outside - currently forgotten. A scatterbrained Jacob made an emergency escape door and his eyes met with his eyes. Two hollow spheres, sparkling the white of the deadliest of the taigas. Without a word, the man with the double orbs possessed his sword inside Jacob's dead point. The last vision Jacob had was of these orbs.
***
Returning to real life, Jacob emitted a loud and terrified shout which startled most of his familiars. Uncle Jerry who was watching one baseball game starring the New York Yankees squeaked in both fury and astonishment for his nephew interrupt the narrator's joyful yell announcing it was the strike number two. "What is the problem, Jacob?" The old sullen human bagasse grumbled. "Nothing's wrong, uncly." Jacob grumbled, in the same accent, to his uncle. A terrifying mixture between British, Arabian and Russian. The hell mixture, Jacob nicknamed it.
Jacob decided to get some fresh milk to drink and reflect about this sudden apparition. He stood up and looked back, to see the view of his window. It wasn't the vision of his window. Instead, they were two hollow, white eyes.
Uncle Jerry stood up, buttered popcorn flying on all directions. Nonchalant with the food product clearly wasted, the olden decided to check his nephew. Entering the room, he noticed it was empty. He went to get a milk or something, Uncle thought to himself. Jerry looked downwards, staring at a small white and creased letter. Words, written with green highlighter, was stated to him: "Nothing's wrong, uncly."
epicmud7
Cockney Griefing
Bob felt scared. He felt scared quite often, usually at small creaks in the night, but this time was different. Had it something to do with the fact there was a short man in a suit at his door threatening to blow him up if he didn't hand over some "loots"? That might have had something to do with it. Anyway, Bob, generally not a violent person, so he calmed himself and got out of bed to walk over to the door. He asked the short man kindly to go away. That usually worked with most people who can to his door. But apparently not this one. He pulled out a surprisingly sharp, shiny sword and started shouting insults at him in a slightly squeaky cockney accent. "You wot mate? I swear, when I get me hands on yer, I'm gonn **** yah **** so hard that you'll **** an' **** und you won' be able teh **** painlessly fer weeks!" Sorry about the censoring, Bob doesn't like swear words, so I covered them up for him. Don't worry Bob, I've got your back.
Anyway, as Bob decided the short man was either drunk or a very vicious door-to-door salesman, he actually opened the door so he could hear what the short person was saying. The agitated dwarf ran at him, and pounced. Bob crashed to the floor and spilt his tea all over the floor. Hopefully it wouldn't stain the floors. Anyway, as Bob pushed the small man off him, he asked what the peculiar short man wanted. "I want yer loots! Give me yer loots! Or I'll blow ya tah the Nether an' back!" Bob decided this was very rude of the man, and asked him a bit more sternly this time to leave. The man did not take kindly to this, and pushed him up against the wall and put his sword to Bob's neck. Bob then started to get very scared. He wasn't quite sure what happened next, probably because the short angry man knocked him out.
I, personally, didn't think that was very nice, so I thought it to be my duty, as Author of this book, to put a stop to it. So I got out from under the bed where I had been hiding, writing the events down of the past five minutes and picked up the short cockney fellow and gave him a good piece of my mind. I then continued to kick him out of Bob's window, which I DID repair later, just so you know, and told him to leave me and Bob alone. I then helped Bob to get up, and made him a nice cup of tea to replace his old one. We then went and played spleef with some of our friends. Bob liked spleef. Then we went to bed, and had wonderful dreams devoid of short angry cockney people.
The end.
It was the perfect day for an adventure, thought Steve as he walked slowly up a hill and admired the landscape. He wore his signature bright blue shirt and dark blue pants, crisp and fresh for the day ahead. In his left hand he carried his trusty diamond pickaxe, the pick sharpened and polished. At his right side his pet wolf Darius trotted alongside him, tongue hanging out of his mouth, seeming just as excited as he was to tackle the day.
Steve walked for a few more minutes, until he approached the gray stone entrance to the cave he had been spelunking in for the past few months. As he stood at the entrance, a smile on his face and a spark in his blue eyes, about to head inside as he did every morning, a voice from behind startled him. “Hello, Steve.” Steve would have recognized the sneering snarl anywhere.
He whirled around, his diamond pickaxe held tightly in his hand, to see exactly the person he had been expecting. “Herobrine!” he said, his friendly expression turning to one of abrupt anger. And true to his voice, the man standing behind him was indeed Herobrine, traitorous brother of Notch and Dark Lord of the Nether. He wore a black hooded cloak and held in his hand a long iron scythe. His bright white eyes were narrowed. He smiled a fanged grin at Steve.
“What an astute observation, Steven.” Steve grimaced, hating his uncle’s habit of calling him by his proper name. “I see you’ve finally managed to craft a diamond pickaxe. I must say, it’s about time. You’ve been a miner for what, a decade now? Don’t you think it’s about time to give it up already? You know, settle down, find a girl, get a house?” Steve stamped his foot at his uncle’s audacity. How dare he come to Steve’s mine and then insult his life choices?
“I’m twenty-three, uncle.” said Steve, emphasizing the last word. “I have plenty of time to ‘settle down’. Darius is all the company I need. And for Notch’s sake, what have you put in your hair this time?” He pointed to the gel in Herobrine’s slick black hair.
“Oh, this?” said Herobrine, feigning surprise at Steve’s question even though he had been hoping he would ask. “Squid ink. I’ve found it’s delightfully rejuvenating to my scalp. I apply a new batch every morning. You ought to try it sometime. Perhaps if you actually took the time to freshen up every once in a while you might attract some actual women instead of the mangy dogs you keep company with now.” At this Darius growled, and Herobrine incinerated him with a flick of his hand, reducing him to a pile of ash.
“Hey, that was my dog! And I’ve dated plenty of women! I can’t think of their names right now but I’m sure I have!” said Steve, eliciting a snicker from Herobrine. Steve became angrier. “This from a man who spends his days and nights sitting in some Nether Fortress planning a revenge on Notch that he can never have, who has never had a relationship with anyone besides his filthy pigs?” Herobrine looked affronted.
“You take that back! Horatio is very well-groomed and me and him are just friends! And he is a pig-man. A pig-man!” Herobine growled in frustration but quickly regained his temper. His eyes had begun to fill with tears at Steve’s insult to his pig-men friend but he tried to stay strong. “Anyway, I’m not here to lecture you on your love life.” he said. “I’m here to take you to the Nether so your soul can burn there for eternity. Now are you coming or not?”
“You can’t do anything of the sort. You have no jurisdiction here. This is Minecraftia.” said Steve. Herobrine laughed, and made the eloquent hand gesture that summoned Nether Portals. Nothing happened. He tried again, and, when that didn’t work, a third time. Steve began to laugh. “It’s not going to work you idiot. This isn’t your world.”
“But . . . but . . .” Herobine stood there, repeating the hand gesture over and over again to no avail. “But that isn’t what’s supposed to happen! You’re supposed to come with me to the Nether! None of this is going as I planned it!” Steve shook his head in disapproval and walked closer to him.
“Do you require further proof, uncle? Case in point, if this were your world, I probably wouldn’t be able to do this. This one’s for my dog.” Before Herobine could ask what he was referring to, Steve raised his fist and punched him squarely in the face, and everything went black.
* * *
“NO!” Herobrine woke up in bed, screaming. He looked around him frantically for a few moments before he realized he was back in his bedroom in the Nether. He turned on the Redstone Lamp on his bedside table and looked around. He was wearing his black silk night clothes and a bottle of squid ink sat on his bedside table next to his Redstone Lamp. He gave a sigh of relief, and sat up in bed. It had all been a bad dream. “Horatio!” he called. He turned to a silver bell that hung from a rope above his bedside table and rang it furiously, causing loud chimes to echo through the halls outside his bedroom.
A few minutes later a tired-looking zombie pigman in a tuxedo resembling a butler’s uniform entered the room. He looked at the indignant Herobrine and grunted something that translated roughly to: What does the illustrious Dark Lord Herobrine desire?
“I . . . I had a nightmare. It was about Steven. I tried to bring him to the Nether but my powers didn’t work and he punched me in the face. I want you to read me a bedtime story.” said Herobrine, his arms crossed and his slick hair shining. Horatio sighed.
But this is the third time this week-
“Did I ask for your lip, Horatio? Or did I ask you to read me a bedtime story? Now when you’re ready to be nice and do your job, The Two Brothers of Minecraftia is right on top of the fireplace.” Knowing it was useless to argue with him, the pig-man sighed again and picked up the book. He sat down at the edge of the bed, opened the book, and began to read it in grunts.
Once upon the time, in the land of Minecraftia, there were two brothers. One was named Notch, and the other Herobrine . . .
The End
“Good night.” he replied. His mother ruffled his hair and George turned around and closed his eyes, but he did not fall asleep.
He heard the door close and the soft, whispery winds of the wind on his neck and what he thought were the snores of his younger brother on the bed in the corner.
How am I going to sleep, thought George. He turned to look at the open window.
The curtains flailing and the glass cold, George could see the fog covering the window and hiding the hilltops from his eyes. George did not fall asleep.
George was only 12, he was quite average. Auburn swept hair over a pale face, he was thin and an inch taller than average, but his personality was far from interesting. Hunter was his older brother. He was popular, daring, and 15. To the girls in school, had way better good looks than any of the other boys. Blonde hair, blue eyes, a nice tan and was just so dang hot. Which annoyed George so very much. To the boys, he was just plain awesome.
No one actually remembered his brother, George. Save George’s best friend, Lynk. Who was teased for having a name no one understood and no one knew that Rick was his older brother, because he was too popular for Lynk.
“Is she awake?” George turned to see his brother sitting up from his bed.
“Mother?” George asked in wonder. “She had gone to bed a few minutes ago. Why do you ask?”
Hunter stood up and swept away the covers and went to the open window. “Is this window big enough for me to fit through?”
George cocked his head to the right, “Why are you asking? You aren’t going out again, father said no.”
Hunter shrugs. “What they don’t know won’t hurt them!” he complains. “Plus, I promised my friends I’d meet them at the entrance of the forest. I mean...” Hunter grins crazily and lowers his voice for only George to hear.
“Ashley, will be there.”
George blushes and scowls. “Fine.” he says, sweeping the covers away. “I’m coming with you, but what happens if father comes in?”
Hunter grabs a big pillow and stuffs it under his blanket and does the same for George. “Easy, father never disturbs our sleep!” Hunter snickers and opens the window wider. “The window is big enough. C’mon.”
Hunter grabbed a bag from under his pillow and put his left leg through the window and pulled himself up, he put his right leg through the window and hopped out. George packed a bag of things he might need and slung a jacket over his back along with a cap. George followed Hunter out the window, but much, much slower.
The wind grabbed at his collar as he clung onto his jacket.
“It’s awfully cold, Hunter.” George whispered. Hunter only stared at him, before jumping over the fence and running down the hill.
“Why him?” George muttered. He opened the fence gate and closed it, but did not lock it. He was already too far to notice, trying to catch up to his brother. CLANK! The gate hit the fence noisily and the wind was trying to get their attention. It hoped their father would find them, but it was already too late.
“Hunter! You made it, man!” Rick walked towards Hunter and patted him on the back after doing some kind of handshake. Rick looked behind him, at George.
“Why did you bring him?” he scowled. George hangs his hand and feels a pat on his back.
“It’s okay. I’m here too.” Lynk stands beside him as George’s smile lights up.
“I’m pretty glad to see you, Lynk.” he says, Lynk only winks his right eye. Rick comes in between George and Lynk and introduces the rest of them.
First is Tyler, Rick’s best friend. He comes with Rick everywhere and helps and supports him in everything. In which, sometimes isn’t so good for his reputation, but is popular either way,
Second is Lyra. One of Hunter’s closest friends who goes along with him, part of the popular clique in school, who’s pretty stuck up and bossy. She came anyway, to show she isn’t just pretty in pink. Which she hopes herself is true.
Last is Ashley, on whom George has a crush on. He know he has no chance with her, of course. Like Lyra, she’s too far out into a high school hierarchy. Unlike Lyra, she’s actually caring and kind, but has never talked or even seen George in her life. That she remembers.
George drools unnoticed, thankfully, towards Ashley. Lynk snaps him out though, this might be their only chance for popularity.
“We’re off. I found this hut in the center of the woods yesterday at 2:00. We should all check it out.” says Rick. “Save those two.” he points at George and Lynk. Rick, Tyler and Lyra laugh, Hunter snickers a little. Ashley just stands there and smiles.
“Well. Turn on your flashlights. Let’s go.” Tyler says. Everyone reaches into their bags and takes out a flashlight, and they work their way into the woods.
The leaves sway and the grasshoppers sing, it’s only the complaining of mud on Lyra’s new jeans that annoys anyone.
“These are brand new!” she complains and groans deeply.
“Shut up, Lyra. We’re trying to do something!” Rick shouts. George turns and sees Lyra scowling and cursing silently behind him.
“Geez.” Lynk mutters.
After a few minutes of cursing, shouting and snake-looking vines, they arrive at a dirt hut, lined with yellow dandelions and red roses. A four block tower with tiki heads around it stuck on bamboo sticks.
“Looks like a shrine.” Hunter notes. “We should, dig in this area. What if there’s treasure down there?” he looks up and imagines.
“I’m not getting any more dirt on my clothes!” Lyra complains again.
“Let’s just dig,” Tyler starts and then directs his gaze towards Lyra, “and play the quiet game! How does that sound?” he teases.
All of them take out their shovels and begin digging within the dirt mound, save George and Lynk. Who attempt to break branches and use the thickest one to dig.
“Have any of you found anything?” Ashley cries. A chorus of high and low pitched of no’s follow.
CLINK! “I found something!” George shouts. Surprised, they all start tripping over roots and hitting each other to be the first to see what George found. When they had gathered, in skin of might become bruises and a few scratches, a turcoise shaped block sits.
“Is that, what I think... It is?” Lynk says, his eyes sparkling as he reaches his hand to grab it.
“No!” Rick slaps his hand away and grabs the block. “By Notch! I’m gonna be rich!” he laughs crazily and begins to run away.
“Hey!” Tyler and Hunter shout. “That was for all of us!” Rick still runs into the forest. Leaving all of them.
“I told you he was a jerk.” Lyra said to all of them. “We made the trip for nothing.”
“AGGGGHHHHH!” All of them turn their faces to where Rick last was, and there he is now. Lying on the floor in a puddle of red.
They scream and back away, jaws open, eyes horrified.
“How did he even get back here, he was far already!” Ashley screamed. “We gotta get out of here!”
“But you were just in time.”
The group falls backward and a floating man in a turcoise robe, face hidden in shadow, hovers above them. The leaves and the stars grow quiet with his prescense and nothing moves.
“You scared the Nether out of us!” Tyler shouts and points a finger at the figure. The figure stands still. “You want this to get physical?!” Tyler shouts.
“Where we are going, we do not need the physical.”
George can feel his face. Turning into grains of sand. First, his feet. His knees, his waist, his shoulders, his neck, his face. With a last scream, George is gone. He remembers the sound of waves. The salt entering his lungs, or perhaps... It isn’t salt.
George opens his eyes and he sees all his friends in a space of black and white waters, orbs floating about with every breath they try to take. He looks at his hands, and he is alive. He has nothing to do, and he cannot breathe.
George begins to choke, and he shakes his hands in a frenzy, trying to swim up from wherever he is. He just wants to live.
He has about a ten seconds, the surface is right there. His face is beginning to turn purple and his hands and feet numb. He cannot feel them anymore. He’s almost there. Five seconds ring in his mind, and he knows he can make it. His eyes are forcing shut, and he can’t feel his arms and legs, and the growing pain in his lungs well up. Three. He reaches a hand out. Two. Another. One.
The man in the turcoise robe is now shown. He wears the clothes of the Hero Steve. He is not Steve. He looks up at George, and George knows that this is already the End, when he looks into the eyes of the man. George opens his mouth and the man only waves a heavy goodbye, and with it his life and soul. He was devoured by the sea of stars, in which none can survive.
And George woke up.
I pulled out my map for directions. I was nearly 500 meters away from house. That’s not that far, I thought. I can make it before dawn! I placed my map in my inventory and started walking, being cautious about my declining food bar. As I walked, the biome changed from grassland to snow. I stepped foot in the ice and I instantly felt chills run down my spine. I searched my pack and put on some leather gauntlets to keep warm. I kept my sword handy just I case if I ever ran into some trouble. I spent countless hours in the making of my diamond sword, and now it is all about to pay off.
While I treaded through the heavy snow, I heard a noise. Footsteps coming from behind me. I shot around, surveying the area, but saw nothing. M-must have been a pig or something, I nervously assured myself. I crept along and continued my journey. No more than two steps later, the sound of faint breathing sent me up the nearest tree. I was shaking vigorously, from the cold and from fright. Trying to regain my stability, I felt a cold structure tap my right shoulder. Shaking like an earthquake, I slowly turned around and screamed in terror. Right in front of my face stood what appeared to be a person, oddly similar to me, with glowing white eyes. Herobrine!
I jumped off the tree and ran for dear life, regarding my health bar. Everywhere I turned, he stood waiting for me. After miles of running, I quickly dug a hole in the ground three blocks deep and fitted myself in it, covering up the opening in the ground. Panting like a dog, I took in a deep breath and took a bit of a pork chop I was saving. Before I could finish it, a pair of glowing eyes formed in front of me.
Then everything went black…
Fallacy
FelixoWind
1,014 Words
I sit in my window watching the sun slowly run its exhausting course. The moon makes its way over to release its friend from the extensive labor, starting the night shift. The last glimmers of light disappear;
I know the time has come.
I reach over and grab my crudely made sword and examine it. The sword is almost at the point of breaking.
I strike out at an imaginary foe and break the sword over its head. I let a sigh escape
and collect the fallen pieces of my sword. I trudge over to my workbench and set the
crumbling bits of my sword down.
All of my safety precautions strike me as useless, so I decide to splurge and make myself an
iron sword and some armor. I shuffle around in my chest and find my supplies. I lay the
items out on top of my chest and begin to craft my combat wear. I spend what seems
like forever making the last of my iron armor. I finish, glance up and see that only five minutes have past.
I gather my final products and head to my enchantment room. I wipe the sweat from my brow
and start to enchant. By the time I am done, I am physically drained. Silently,
I scold myself for not preparing the night before. I pull on my armor and grab my bow and arrows.
As I walk out the door, I am greeted with approaching ranks of soldiers.
I run forward and meet the army head on slicing through Zombie after Zombie.
I break through the first few ranks to meet the skeletons and spiders. Mercilessly killing many,
I yawn as I go. The creepers run in now but many of their explosions kill their comrades.
I pick my way through the now hectic battlefield and watch silently as a few of the
zombies turn on each other. I soon grow tired of this spectacle and cut through most of the
remaining ranks. As I near the back of the fleet I see a guarded entourage. I cut my way
through the small group and reach the center to see the face that haunts my dreams.
I stand there frozen in shock as he leers at me from on top of his black
horse. Saying nothing I slowly back away. He urges the horse forward and settles it in
front of me. After a moment of silence inside the circle his voice protrudes the noisy battle.
I strain to hear him but he is done talking.
Everyone in the circle turns and stares at me. I look from face to face wondering what they want.
He thunders "Well fine then! Unleash the beast!!!" I turn and run to the woods. Suddenly,
all noise of the battle is gone and it is replaced an unearthly quiet. That just makes me run faster.
I can hear something closing in on me as I reach the edge of the forest. I dart through the
swamp hoping to loose it but I can still here it chasing me. I reach the jungle and decide it
might be safest to take to the trees; I scale one of the small trees and jump into the next one.
Pushing away leafs I turn around in time to see the creature blurred by speed jump into the tree
behind me. I jump into the next tree. I can hear the limbs behind me breaking as I dash from tree to tree.
Jumping into the next tree I continue to survey the area looking for land marks.
I spot an oddly shaped mountain and that’s enough to tell me where I am. I jump out of
the tree and dart into the tall ferns. As I run by I use my bow to shoot a button to
the side of me. Just as planned, dispensers surface and start to fire arrows.
I weave in between the trees hoping my line of cannons would be enough to distract it.
I run into the jungle hills and climb the tallest tree. I continue to use trees to navigate.
Making my way to the top of the hill I jump and miss the branch by just an inch.
I fall but manage to catch one of the dangling vines. I reach the top of the tree
and take a moment to catch my breath.
I turn around and find that I am standing in front of my spawn house; I quickly dart
inside closing the piston door behind me. After removing my armor I make my way to the
back of my house hoping to get some carrots from my farm.
As I walk down the hall, I change my mind. Instead, I stop into my old room leaving the light out.
I walk over and fall into bed taking comfort in the warm blanket. I roll over and hug my old stuffed monster.
I start to drift off to sleep as I realize my pillow is bigger than I remember. I just hug it tighter
feeling like a child again until I feel it take a breath.
I jerk back from what I thought was my stuffed monster. Seeing its glowing eyes, I lay down and
accept my fate. The monster that looked so much like my childhood friend heaved itself
off the bed and hovered over me. It reached down and pushed my hair out of my face.
Then its hand rested on my chest.
I felt its sharp claws sink into my flesh but I did not feel fear I was happy.
My only friend was here with me and no matter what his intentions were, I was going to savor my
last moments with him before he left again. His claws sank deeper into my skin
as I watched his eyes dance and a mischievous smile cross his face.
His hand plunged into my chest. As he slipped his fingers into my rib-cage and braced himself
to pull out my heart he whispered "Goodbye old friend."
I started panting. I was running away from someone who looked just like me. He kept whispering, "Embrace your fear..." I kept running away until I fell into a hole in the ground. I had no blocks and no tools to get out of it. The hole was made of obsidian and I started panicking. Herobrine looked down at me and his eyes glowed red. "Now...enter hell." He placed an obsidian block to cover up the hole. I started screaming because there was no light and I was afraid of the dark. Finally, I heard laughing that sounded deranged. My vision was disoriented and all I saw was purple. My head was hurting and I couldn't take it. I blacked out.
When I recovered, the environment was completely new. All the blocks were red and I saw a tower made of a strange, cracking red kind of stone. A severed head was attached to the tower...it was my head. Its eyes glowed white and a distorted voice began speaking. "Welcome...to the fiery depths of my home...where Notch banished me and tortured me..." I shivered in fear. "W-W-Who are you?" The voice only became more distorted. "I am the original you...Notch thought me as...imperfect...and, for that...I will make you pay in blood." I shivered a little more. "W-Well, technically, there's no blood in this game..." The voice grew angry. "SILENCE! HOW DARE YOU INTERRUPT ME WHILE I MAKE MY TERRIFYING SPEECH!" The voice cleared its throat. "I...am Herobrine...so, now that you know...you have my permission to die."
All I remember was shrill screaming when I woke up. I could have sworn I saw a figure outside the window, but it vanished...Herobrine...he was watching me.
6-22-13 winners!
“Good night, George.” she whispered and planted a kiss on her son’s forehead.
“Good night.” he replied. His mother ruffled his hair and George turned around and closed his eyes, but he did not fall asleep.
He heard the door close and the soft, whispery winds of the wind on his neck and what he thought were the snores of his younger brother on the bed in the corner.
How am I going to sleep, thought George. He turned to look at the open window.
The curtains flailing and the glass cold, George could see the fog covering the window and hiding the hilltops from his eyes. George did not fall asleep.
George was only 12, he was quite average. Auburn swept hair over a pale face, he was thin and an inch taller than average, but his personality was far from interesting. Hunter was his older brother. He was popular, daring, and 15. To the girls in school, had way better good looks than any of the other boys. Blonde hair, blue eyes, a nice tan and was just so dang hot. Which annoyed George so very much. To the boys, he was just plain awesome.
No one actually remembered his brother, George. Save George’s best friend, Lynk. Who was teased for having a name no one understood and no one knew that Rick was his older brother, because he was too popular for Lynk.
“Is she awake?” George turned to see his brother sitting up from his bed.
“Mother?” George asked in wonder. “She had gone to bed a few minutes ago. Why do you ask?”
Hunter stood up and swept away the covers and went to the open window. “Is this window big enough for me to fit through?”
George cocked his head to the right, “Why are you asking? You aren’t going out again, father said no.”
Hunter shrugs. “What they don’t know won’t hurt them!” he complains. “Plus, I promised my friends I’d meet them at the entrance of the forest. I mean...” Hunter grins crazily and lowers his voice for only George to hear.
“Ashley, will be there.”
George blushes and scowls. “Fine.” he says, sweeping the covers away. “I’m coming with you, but what happens if father comes in?”
Hunter grabs a big pillow and stuffs it under his blanket and does the same for George. “Easy, father never disturbs our sleep!” Hunter snickers and opens the window wider. “The window is big enough. C’mon.”
Hunter grabbed a bag from under his pillow and put his left leg through the window and pulled himself up, he put his right leg through the window and hopped out. George packed a bag of things he might need and slung a jacket over his back along with a cap. George followed Hunter out the window, but much, much slower.
The wind grabbed at his collar as he clung onto his jacket.
“It’s awfully cold, Hunter.” George whispered. Hunter only stared at him, before jumping over the fence and running down the hill.
“Why him?” George muttered. He opened the fence gate and closed it, but did not lock it. He was already too far to notice, trying to catch up to his brother. CLANK! The gate hit the fence noisily and the wind was trying to get their attention. It hoped their father would find them, but it was already too late.
“Hunter! You made it, man!” Rick walked towards Hunter and patted him on the back after doing some kind of handshake. Rick looked behind him, at George.
“Why did you bring him?” he scowled. George hangs his hand and feels a pat on his back.
“It’s okay. I’m here too.” Lynk stands beside him as George’s smile lights up.
“I’m pretty glad to see you, Lynk.” he says, Lynk only winks his right eye. Rick comes in between George and Lynk and introduces the rest of them.
First is Tyler, Rick’s best friend. He comes with Rick everywhere and helps and supports him in everything. In which, sometimes isn’t so good for his reputation, but is popular either way,
Second is Lyra. One of Hunter’s closest friends who goes along with him, part of the popular clique in school, who’s pretty stuck up and bossy. She came anyway, to show she isn’t just pretty in pink. Which she hopes herself is true.
Last is Ashley, on whom George has a crush on. He know he has no chance with her, of course. Like Lyra, she’s too far out into a high school hierarchy. Unlike Lyra, she’s actually caring and kind, but has never talked or even seen George in her life. That she remembers.
George drools unnoticed, thankfully, towards Ashley. Lynk snaps him out though, this might be their only chance for popularity.
“We’re off. I found this hut in the center of the woods yesterday at 2:00. We should all check it out.” says Rick. “Save those two.” he points at George and Lynk. Rick, Tyler and Lyra laugh, Hunter snickers a little. Ashley just stands there and smiles.
“Well. Turn on your flashlights. Let’s go.” Tyler says. Everyone reaches into their bags and takes out a flashlight, and they work their way into the woods.
The leaves sway and the grasshoppers sing, it’s only the complaining of mud on Lyra’s new jeans that annoys anyone.
“These are brand new!” she complains and groans deeply.
“Shut up, Lyra. We’re trying to do something!” Rick shouts. George turns and sees Lyra scowling and cursing silently behind him.
“Geez.” Lynk mutters.
After a few minutes of cursing, shouting and snake-looking vines, they arrive at a dirt hut, lined with yellow dandelions and red roses. A four block tower with tiki heads around it stuck on bamboo sticks.
“Looks like a shrine.” Hunter notes. “We should, dig in this area. What if there’s treasure down there?” he looks up and imagines.
“I’m not getting any more dirt on my clothes!” Lyra complains again.
“Let’s just dig,” Tyler starts and then directs his gaze towards Lyra, “and play the quiet game! How does that sound?” he teases.
All of them take out their shovels and begin digging within the dirt mound, save George and Lynk. Who attempt to break branches and use the thickest one to dig.
“Have any of you found anything?” Ashley cries. A chorus of high and low pitched of no’s follow.
CLINK! “I found something!” George shouts. Surprised, they all start tripping over roots and hitting each other to be the first to see what George found. When they had gathered, in skin of might become bruises and a few scratches, a turcoise shaped block sits.
“Is that, what I think... It is?” Lynk says, his eyes sparkling as he reaches his hand to grab it.
“No!” Rick slaps his hand away and grabs the block. “By Notch! I’m gonna be rich!” he laughs crazily and begins to run away.
“Hey!” Tyler and Hunter shout. “That was for all of us!” Rick still runs into the forest. Leaving all of them.
“I told you he was a jerk.” Lyra said to all of them. “We made the trip for nothing.”
“AGGGGHHHHH!” All of them turn their faces to where Rick last was, and there he is now. Lying on the floor in a puddle of red.
They scream and back away, jaws open, eyes horrified.
“How did he even get back here, he was far already!” Ashley screamed. “We gotta get out of here!”
“But you were just in time.”
The group falls backward and a floating man in a turcoise robe, face hidden in shadow, hovers above them. The leaves and the stars grow quiet with his prescense and nothing moves.
“You scared the Nether out of us!” Tyler shouts and points a finger at the figure. The figure stands still. “You want this to get physical?!” Tyler shouts.
“Where we are going, we do not need the physical.”
George can feel his face. Turning into grains of sand. First, his feet. His knees, his waist, his shoulders, his neck, his face. With a last scream, George is gone. He remembers the sound of waves. The salt entering his lungs, or perhaps... It isn’t salt.
George opens his eyes and he sees all his friends in a space of black and white waters, orbs floating about with every breath they try to take. He looks at his hands, and he is alive. He has nothing to do, and he cannot breathe.
George begins to choke, and he shakes his hands in a frenzy, trying to swim up from wherever he is. He just wants to live.
He has about a ten seconds, the surface is right there. His face is beginning to turn purple and his hands and feet numb. He cannot feel them anymore. He’s almost there. Five seconds ring in his mind, and he knows he can make it. His eyes are forcing shut, and he can’t feel his arms and legs, and the growing pain in his lungs well up. Three. He reaches a hand out. Two. Another. One.
The man in the turcoise robe is now shown. He wears the clothes of the Hero Steve. He is not Steve. He looks up at George, and George knows that this is already the End, when he looks into the eyes of the man. George opens his mouth and the man only waves a heavy goodbye, and with it his life and soul. He was devoured by the sea of stars, in which none can survive.
And George woke up.
It was the perfect day for an adventure, thought Steve as he walked slowly up a hill and admired the landscape. He wore his signature bright blue shirt and dark blue pants, crisp and fresh for the day ahead. In his left hand he carried his trusty diamond pickaxe, the pick sharpened and polished. At his right side his pet wolf Darius trotted alongside him, tongue hanging out of his mouth, seeming just as excited as he was to tackle the day.
Steve walked for a few more minutes, until he approached the gray stone entrance to the cave he had been spelunking in for the past few months. As he stood at the entrance, a smile on his face and a spark in his blue eyes, about to head inside as he did every morning, a voice from behind startled him. “Hello, Steve.” Steve would have recognized the sneering snarl anywhere.
He whirled around, his diamond pickaxe held tightly in his hand, to see exactly the person he had been expecting. “Herobrine!” he said, his friendly expression turning to one of abrupt anger. And true to his voice, the man standing behind him was indeed Herobrine, traitorous brother of Notch and Dark Lord of the Nether. He wore a black hooded cloak and held in his hand a long iron scythe. His bright white eyes were narrowed. He smiled a fanged grin at Steve.
“What an astute observation, Steven.” Steve grimaced, hating his uncle’s habit of calling him by his proper name. “I see you’ve finally managed to craft a diamond pickaxe. I must say, it’s about time. You’ve been a miner for what, a decade now? Don’t you think it’s about time to give it up already? You know, settle down, find a girl, get a house?” Steve stamped his foot at his uncle’s audacity. How dare he come to Steve’s mine and then insult his life choices?
“I’m twenty-three, uncle.” said Steve, emphasizing the last word. “I have plenty of time to ‘settle down’. Darius is all the company I need. And for Notch’s sake, what have you put in your hair this time?” He pointed to the gel in Herobrine’s slick black hair.
“Oh, this?” said Herobrine, feigning surprise at Steve’s question even though he had been hoping he would ask. “Squid ink. I’ve found it’s delightfully rejuvenating to my scalp. I apply a new batch every morning. You ought to try it sometime. Perhaps if you actually took the time to freshen up every once in a while you might attract some actual women instead of the mangy dogs you keep company with now.” At this Darius growled, and Herobrine incinerated him with a flick of his hand, reducing him to a pile of ash.
“Hey, that was my dog! And I’ve dated plenty of women! I can’t think of their names right now but I’m sure I have!” said Steve, eliciting a snicker from Herobrine. Steve became angrier. “This from a man who spends his days and nights sitting in some Nether Fortress planning a revenge on Notch that he can never have, who has never had a relationship with anyone besides his filthy pigs?” Herobrine looked affronted.
“You take that back! Horatio is very well-groomed and me and him are just friends! And he is a pig-man. A pig-man!” Herobine growled in frustration but quickly regained his temper. His eyes had begun to fill with tears at Steve’s insult to his pig-men friend but he tried to stay strong. “Anyway, I’m not here to lecture you on your love life.” he said. “I’m here to take you to the Nether so your soul can burn there for eternity. Now are you coming or not?”
“You can’t do anything of the sort. You have no jurisdiction here. This is Minecraftia.” said Steve. Herobrine laughed, and made the eloquent hand gesture that summoned Nether Portals. Nothing happened. He tried again, and, when that didn’t work, a third time. Steve began to laugh. “It’s not going to work you idiot. This isn’t your world.”
“But . . . but . . .” Herobine stood there, repeating the hand gesture over and over again to no avail. “But that isn’t what’s supposed to happen! You’re supposed to come with me to the Nether! None of this is going as I planned it!” Steve shook his head in disapproval and walked closer to him.
“Do you require further proof, uncle? Case in point, if this were your world, I probably wouldn’t be able to do this. This one’s for my dog.” Before Herobine could ask what he was referring to, Steve raised his fist and punched him squarely in the face, and everything went black.
* * *
“NO!” Herobrine woke up in bed, screaming. He looked around him frantically for a few moments before he realized he was back in his bedroom in the Nether. He turned on the Redstone Lamp on his bedside table and looked around. He was wearing his black silk night clothes and a bottle of squid ink sat on his bedside table next to his Redstone Lamp. He gave a sigh of relief, and sat up in bed. It had all been a bad dream. “Horatio!” he called. He turned to a silver bell that hung from a rope above his bedside table and rang it furiously, causing loud chimes to echo through the halls outside his bedroom.
A few minutes later a tired-looking zombie pigman in a tuxedo resembling a butler’s uniform entered the room. He looked at the indignant Herobrine and grunted something that translated roughly to: What does the illustrious Dark Lord Herobrine desire?
“I . . . I had a nightmare. It was about Steven. I tried to bring him to the Nether but my powers didn’t work and he punched me in the face. I want you to read me a bedtime story.” said Herobrine, his arms crossed and his slick hair shining. Horatio sighed.
But this is the third time this week-
“Did I ask for your lip, Horatio? Or did I ask you to read me a bedtime story? Now when you’re ready to be nice and do your job, The Two Brothers of Minecraftia is right on top of the fireplace.” Knowing it was useless to argue with him, the pig-man sighed again and picked up the book. He sat down at the edge of the bed, opened the book, and began to read it in grunts.
Once upon the time, in the land of Minecraftia, there were two brothers. One was named Notch, and the other Herobrine . . .
The End
So I fell asleep.
When I awoke, I found myself on the floor, as usual, with the bright morning sun rudely trying to blind me through the small window situated above my bed itself.
The torches that lined the room were still burning, no surprise there. So what made me feel nervous?
"Eh... I just need to eat something." I eventually decided to myself.
The bedroom was, as mentioned before, rather small. However, small spaces can have many things inside of them. Take the four chests piled up in the corner of the room, nearly brushing against one of the torches. Or perhaps you'd like to hear about the other six chests that I had piled up on the spacious shelves lining the top of the room? Anyways, I stalked out of there fairly carefully (my home is not completely secure from the things that go bump in the night...) after grabbing a crudely crafted sword of stone. Technically, the sword was a club, as it had no point or anything to it, but oh well.
I had engraved certain runes into the leather hilt of it in order to try and protect myself against any attacking beasts. The funny thing is that it actually worked. Or perhaps that was just wishful thinking.
I exited the bedroom and entered the dark, chestnut colored, wooden hallway. I had lined it with paintings depicting scenes from my life: a beach bordered by a large, ominous forest with twisted, blackened trees writing in it's limits, a small hovel in the boughs of a tall, sturdy light brown tree that was surrounded by many other trees that looked nearly identical to the first, and, now, a giant mansion that covered the entirety of the giant tree's trunk. There were also pictures from intermediate phases, but they were things like the first time I saw one of the undead creatures, or the first time that I made a tool.
They were like visual journals. The hallway had no rooms connecting to it; I had no use for other rooms in this house. All of my activities took place in three of the four rooms that trailed down the tree at indeterminate positions. Tarrying in the hallway no further, I reached the end of it and saw that the ladders leading down were all broken. The rungs of the separate, dark ladders were twisted at odd angles - as if something ridiculously heavy had been using them.
Suddenly, I got a feeling on the back of my neck as if something was watching me. I quickly turned around to find... nothing. The hallway was empty. And by 'empty', I mean that the torches were all gone. The painting had vanished. Even the door at the end, the one that led back into my bedroom, had vanished.
Considering that I had never seen anything like this before, what I did next was perfectly acceptable. I jumped backwards and stammered... only to find myself falling out of the tree house, branches and twigs and leaves and all other sorts of chaotic things hitting me. Luckily, there was an almost broken branch on one of the lowest trees that broke my fall gently, just a few tenths of a second before I would have hit the ground. I lost it then.
I'm not sure how far I ran, or even where I ran. All I know is that I regained composure of myself inside the bowels of some sort of abandoned complex. I sit here in this small stone room and look out There to see red eyes looking back at me through the reinforced glass windows of the enclosure. I can't find the exit, and I know it's only some time before whatever is out there, haunting me, finds me in here.
Whoever finds this, if anyone finds this...
Do not proceed further. I'm past the point of fear and I am thinking calmly and logically now. Whatever is out There is likely to stay in here after it... you know, gets rid of me.
Goodbye.
/\/\/\
There are some sketches of a nightmarish creature resembling a giant ball of clay with glowing red eyes here. You look up, the torch's feeble light is sputtering mysteriously. Frowning, you put the book into your backpack and go back the way you came in, through the many old, cracked stone rooms... and cells.
From the cells, you can hear many strange noises. And, occasionally, you can catch glimpses of strange creatures that appear to be giant undead people.
You have no doubt in your mind as to the truth of this man's words, and, as such, you begin running towards the exit. Your fine leather shoes usually make nearly no sound, but in this complex, they make huge reverberating echoes that carry down into the depths of the earth.
Suddenly, you come upon an intersection. You believe that you had turned right here when you came down first, so you turn left. A giant amorphous blob that is so hideously disgusting that it cannot be described in sitting in the pathway... luckily, it seems to be facing the other direction. How it has not heard you by now, you do not know. What you do know is that you are now trapped it here, just like that man was...
You turn and run the other way. A giant bellow - like a baby's screams - vibrates your bones as you stumble through the ever darkening passages. Suddenly, something slimy wraps itself around your stomach.
You know that it's the end.
Have to be donated.
It is sunset. I spent my first day in this strange blocky world punching down trees and mining some stone. I also built a little wooden square as a cottage to provide shelter for me. The sun has now set, and evil creatures are coming out of hiding. Rotting green people who reek of death burst out of the ground. They are clearly some kind of undead. Accompanying them are skeletons with rotting flesh hanging off some of their bones, wielding bows. Giant hairy spiders crawl out of caves and climb to the top of cliffs
But, worst of all is the thing made of dead leaves. I was a sickly green and constantly wore an expression of pain. One of them walks up to my and the house and explodes. I am shot out and into the night of terror. The zombies shuffle towards me, skeletons draw their bows. The spiders leap for me, and I think it is all over. I reluctantly daw out my sword, and begin to defend myself.
I easily decapitate the zombies and cut some of the spiders in half. The others leap on me, and I am overwhelmed. Luckily, when I fell to the ground I dodged all of the skeleton’s arrows. Another leaf thing rushes up to me and explodes. I fly away, and my sword shatters. At least the blast killed the remaining spiders. An arrow pierces my shoulder, then another. I am dying fast.
I pick up the bone of a fallen skeleton and use it as a club. I successfully use it to kill two skeletons, three zombies, four spiders, and a leaf thing. I am starting regain my strength and confidence. I charge at a skeleton and pull its head off. I throw the head at a leaf thing and knock it out.
The sun begins to rise. Once the sun is fully risen, the undead burst into flames and the spiders retreat back into their caves. All the leaf things except one all retreat. The last one sneaks behind me and tries to explode. I use the bone club one last time, and impale the leaf thing’s face. I have survived the night of terrors.
by sc1020 AKA Slade
They say the night is a dangerous place. Anyone can. I don't blame them. I want to tell you a story that involves this. A disturbing story that scared me out of my wits. About one of the many terrors that come at night.
I was walking through the forest one night to confirm a rumor. They said my brother died in these very woods. They say his ghost haunts them forever. The spruce trees were close together and I placed a torch on every one, creating a trail back in case I got lost.
Then I noticed that it got darker still. I turned around to see a torch had just gone out. In fact, all of them were out.
“Who's there?” I asked, “Is it you, Hunter? Or... your ghost?”
“Jacob?” a voice called. It sounded scared and alone Through the trees I saw someone sitting, as if they were hiding. It was my brother, Hunter. He was alive all right.
“Hunter! You're alive!” I yelled, hugging him.
“Ssssh!” Hunter said, “It'll hear you.”
“What'll hear me?” I asked.
“I can't tell you,” he said, “It might attack me or even you.”
“Listen,” I said, “It's been two weeks. These creepy woods are just getting to you.”
“Here it comes!” he yelled. I turned around and saw a figure rushing towards me. Its eyes glowed purple. It made strange gurgling noises. It grabbed me and threw me across the forest into a tree, heading for Hunter.
I took out my bow and shot a single arrow straight at my head. It vanished, appearing at my side and punching me to the ground. I took out my best sword and swung at its feet, getting back up.
It vanished again and appeared, grabbing Hunter once again. I ran towards it. It turned, using only its fists to oppose me. Its mouth opened wide. It ran towards me at a frightening speed. I slashed and it blocked.
“You're not hunting my brother,” I said, “No matter what you do.”
“But you don't understand,” the figure said, “He is mine. You are mine. You two are... offering. I take you to dragon and he spares me and my family.”
“I'm sorry, but all your kind does is harm people!” I yelled, stabbing it. It vanished before the sword hit. I ducked as it punched me from behind. But it put its arm over my head and pulled me back. It just just about to make its final blow on me when someone stabbed it.
It turned around, but saw no one. Yet I saw Hunter, plain as day. He was wearing a pumpkin on his head.
“You can't see me,” Hunter said, “But I can see you. I will haunt you until you leave my brother alone. You see, I protect him and he protects me. You'll never find us. You think you scare us, but in reality, we scare you.”
“No, it's not true!” the enderman said, “My race is the one that haunts people. How are you striking me? I cannot see you!”
Hunter grabbed me and pushed me out of the way, stabbing the enderman in the chest. It fell to the ground, trickling purple blood and then vanishing. All that was left was a single pearl. I took Hunter home and we framed the pearl. We would always remember this day. It showed more than our love.
It showed that nothing could bring us apart.
I have no idea about the exact length but it is barely less than 2000 words, methinks.
578 words 3078 characters
I use wordcounter.net to count words because docs doesn't have one.
For using a website or writing the story?
Post it here.
I want to make a short story thread. It wouldn't be a contest, just a place to put short stories. I need something to write in-between HNSTS chapters.
Don't tell me how bad it is... XD
I promise that the next one will be better and less... whatever this is. XD
The Really Bad Story That I Came Up With In About Two Minutes Then Wrote Without Proper Description.
So I fell asleep.
When I awoke, I found myself on the floor, as usual, with the bright morning sun rudely trying to blind me through the small window situated above my bed itself.
The torches that lined the room were still burning, no surprise there. So what made me feel nervous?
"Eh... I just need to eat something." I eventually decided to myself.
The bedroom was, as mentioned before, rather small. However, small spaces can have many things inside of them. Take the four chests piled up in the corner of the room, nearly brushing against one of the torches. Or perhaps you'd like to hear about the other six chests that I had piled up on the spacious shelves lining the top of the room? Anyways, I stalked out of there fairly carefully (my home is not completely secure from the things that go bump in the night...) after grabbing a crudely crafted sword of stone. Technically, the sword was a club, as it had no point or anything to it, but oh well.
I had engraved certain runes into the leather hilt of it in order to try and protect myself against any attacking beasts. The funny thing is that it actually worked. Or perhaps that was just wishful thinking.
I exited the bedroom and entered the dark, chestnut colored, wooden hallway. I had lined it with paintings depicting scenes from my life: a beach bordered by a large, ominous forest with twisted, blackened trees writing in it's limits, a small hovel in the boughs of a tall, sturdy light brown tree that was surrounded by many other trees that looked nearly identical to the first, and, now, a giant mansion that covered the entirety of the giant tree's trunk. There were also pictures from intermediate phases, but they were things like the first time I saw one of the undead creatures, or the first time that I made a tool.
They were like visual journals. The hallway had no rooms connecting to it; I had no use for other rooms in this house. All of my activities took place in three of the four rooms that trailed down the tree at indeterminate positions. Tarrying in the hallway no further, I reached the end of it and saw that the ladders leading down were all broken. The rungs of the separate, dark ladders were twisted at odd angles - as if something ridiculously heavy had been using them.
Suddenly, I got a feeling on the back of my neck as if something was watching me. I quickly turned around to find... nothing. The hallway was empty. And by 'empty', I mean that the torches were all gone. The painting had vanished. Even the door at the end, the one that led back into my bedroom, had vanished.
Considering that I had never seen anything like this before, what I did next was perfectly acceptable. I jumped backwards and stammered... only to find myself falling out of the tree house, branches and twigs and leaves and all other sorts of chaotic things hitting me. Luckily, there was an almost broken branch on one of the lowest trees that broke my fall gently, just a few tenths of a second before I would have hit the ground. I lost it then.
I'm not sure how far I ran, or even where I ran. All I know is that I regained composure of myself inside the bowels of some sort of abandoned complex. I sit here in this small stone room and look out There to see red eyes looking back at me through the reinforced glass windows of the enclosure. I can't find the exit, and I know it's only some time before whatever is out there, haunting me, finds me in here.
Whoever finds this, if anyone finds this...
Do not proceed further. I'm past the point of fear and I am thinking calmly and logically now. Whatever is out There is likely to stay in here after it... you know, gets rid of me.
Goodbye.
/\/\/\
There are some sketches of a nightmarish creature resembling a giant ball of clay with glowing red eyes here. You look up, the torch's feeble light is sputtering mysteriously. Frowning, you put the book into your backpack and go back the way you came in, through the many old, cracked stone rooms... and cells.
From the cells, you can hear many strange noises. And, occasionally, you can catch glimpses of strange creatures that appear to be giant undead people.
You have no doubt in your mind as to the truth of this man's words, and, as such, you begin running towards the exit. Your fine leather shoes usually make nearly no sound, but in this complex, they make huge reverberating echoes that carry down into the depths of the earth.
Suddenly, you come upon an intersection. You believe that you had turned right here when you came down first, so you turn left. A giant amorphous blob that is so hideously disgusting that it cannot be described in sitting in the pathway... luckily, it seems to be facing the other direction. How it has not heard you by now, you do not know. What you do know is that you are now trapped it here, just like that man was...
You turn and run the other way. A giant bellow - like a baby's screams - vibrates your bones as you stumble through the ever darkening passages. Suddenly, something slimy wraps itself around your stomach.
You know that it's the end.
** 999 words, 97 lines, 4,466 characters.
... What? No... impossible.
That looks like, oh, a Word Doc page long. That makes it about... five hundred - six hundred words long?
Hmm... meh. Too lazy to get wordcount right now.
**2,000 words = four pages, approximately.
OnceInALongTime: "You confuse me, Mage. Amazability should be a word so I could describe your words."
-Perpetually inactive-
What now?
1. I need to finish a few more words for that short story I am submitting to the publishers in a contest.
2. My friend is having issues and I am trying to help her out.
3. It's lunch time.
“You cannot sleep now. There are monsters nearby.” said the bed.
“Oh no…” I thought. As I sat thinking about what to do next, I started hearing them. Bang, bang. Groan…I could hear the zombies trying to get in. Hiss, hiss. I could hear the creeper time bombs ticking outside my home. I could hear the warbles of an enderman, wanting to take my blocks. I could hear the rattling bones of the skeletons just waiting for me to come out.
As I was trying to think a way out of this, an enderman came and took a block out of my home. Suddenly, every monster nearby was at the opening, arrows whizzing by my head, zombies poking their arms through, creepers poking their heads through, and more endermen coming and taking more of the blocks, until there was barely any wall left.
The monsters were starting to flood my home, creepers, endermen, skeletons, and zombies. I took my bed and everything I could fit inside my inventory from my chest, and ran for the hills. After running a mile or so, I saw a small opening in a hill, a cavern. When I walked in, there were no monsters in sight. I breathed a sigh of relief.
I placed my bed down. The pillow looked like a soft cloud, and the blanket like a warm hug. I fell back into the wonderful, soft warmth of the bed, and slept a deep sleep. Though it was a deep sleep, it was not a pleasant one.
I saw in that dream all the events from the previous night. The late wood-collecting trip, the monsters surrounding my house, me running away, and finally, me ending up in this cave. The one thing different about this dream however, was I woke to a creeper standing over my bed. Boom!
I woke up, partially because of the dream, partially because of the sun glaring in my eyes. I was still half-asleep and had the sun glaring in my eyes, so I couldn’t think straight or see correctly. I heard something similar to the hiss of a snake and the hoof beats of a horse next to my bed, and for some reason I thought it was my alarm clock. I hit it with my fist, hoping to shut it off, but the only thing that happened was that the hissing grew louder. As I came to my senses, I realized it was a creeper over my bed, and I just aggravated it.
“Oh Notch” was the last thing I thought before-Boom! All that was left was a giant crater and a lot of items.
**511 words
What now?
509, actually.
What now?
kindof creepy, interesting though.
I like it.
Good all good.
All added.
He stumbled through the dark cave into a surreal mineshaft. At the end of the mineshaft was a chest. without hesitation steve strode towards it. Suddenly the light dissapeared, with the absence of light the mineshaft underwent a grotesque transformation. Behind him fires flew from nowhere! sprouting upon stone and wood alike, it raced towards him. A roar echoed from its depths as it consumed him.
He woke covered in a cold sweat feeling the heat of the fires rage over him still. "A dream?" He thought "It felt so real!" He turned his thoughts from his daydream and resumed mining. Slowly he smashed a two by two hole through the ground. After several minutes of this he broke a hole and found himself staring into a dark cave.
He smashed another so he could see better. A hiss behind him subsequently followed by a large explosion sent him flying headfirst into the cave. His tools fell from his hands as he flew through the air, scrambling he managed to grab his iron sword before he hit the ground. He rolled upon contact and came to his feet in a battle stance. His eyes adapted slowly and he made sillouettes out of the darkness.
He launched himself straight into their midst and sliced through two before heading in the opposite direction. He discerned light ahead of him and raced towards it. "Lava!" He exclaimed breathlessly. His eyes narrowed as he approached. The light source was not lava as he had hoped but a torch, leading into a mineshaft. He hopped up and blocked off the entrance before advancing along the wooden corridor.
At the end of the mineshaft he made out a chest sitting, waiting undoubtedly with treasures within. Steve advanced on it, but before he could pull it open he heard a noise from behind. He spun around and watched in horror as flames sprouted from the wood and stone and raced towards him. The heat was unbearable and he could make out a roar from within the flames. He felt it shrivel his clothes then consume him.
He pried his eyes open fearing the flames but found himself resting in a lower portion of his mine. He shook his head, His daydreaming needed to stop. He reached down and grabbed his pick and his sword and started digging a two by two mineshaft.
Have a signature done by Reignbear