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Note: I lost interest. Won't update. Sorry. Go check out my other stories. The links are in my signature.


Plains, trees, mountains and waterfalls appear before my eyes. The blue-grey void vanishes to be replaced with a sense of dread. The air is dense as if it’s trying to choke me. Then I see it. I see an upright skeleton on fire in the distance. It’s holding something thin in its hands. It’s a bow.

The air is knocked out of my lungs and I gasp for air and attempt to understand what’s happening. I watch in frozen horror as it turns its grinning skull toward me and tilts it to the side. The greeting, “Welcome” comes to mind. However, it’s been twisted into a threat and directed at me. The skeleton topples over and the bones scatter onto the ground. They quickly fade into white particles that are blown away by the wind. Common sense disappears and I run toward where the skeleton was standing. As I near, I see arrows imbedded in the side of a mountain. They hold up the body of another person.

“Come closer.”

The words are so quiet I nearly miss them. I rush over and see that the person is a woman.

“East. I left one of my shelters in the east. Go there and fix the house. Illuminate it…before nightfall. If you don’t…” Another pause and a gasp of air. “YOU WILL DIE. GO! I’VE ONLY KILLED THE FIRST FEW. THEY DRAW NEARER BY THE SECOND!”

I stumble backwards at the force in her voice, her determination, her strength. I pause and start to speak, perhaps a protest but it flees my mind as the woman glares at me.

“GO! DO YOU WANT TO DIE?! FOLLOW THE SUN!”

At that moment, I knew that she had accepted her death. Warrior. The word flashes through my mind. I glanced at the sun and started running.


Panic runs through me as I see that the sun is near setting. It abates for a second when I see it. Or rather, the ruins of it, the bare structure. The shelter. Or at least the ruins of it. It shines with an unknown source and it stands out even as the sun starts to outline it and disappear behind it. As I run toward it with renewed energy, I think about the woman. A true example of reality. I will never forget her.

I enter the ruins by the wooden door, which is facing the east and rotten on the border of falling off its hinges. The roof has holes in it, some small and some giant. The floor is made of the same stone as the walls but it’s also punctured with holes and craters. The light source is actually consisted of lanterns, although there is no fire. There are two storage chests, each two meters long and a meter high, along with two boxes near them. I approach the one opposite of the door. I open it and the hinges creak with protest. Air rushes out, fresh compared to the stench remaining in the house. A lantern above illuminates the contents. The contents are scattered everywhere, organization is at its least, grouping the same materials together. I remember the woman’s instructions. Fix the house. Illuminate it. I take planks out of the chest and start to patch up the ceiling.


Night has fallen and I’m inside the house. Windows are in the east and west walls. As the sun sets, the moon rises. The two forces battle and the light falls back. Shadows fall and I hope the fire I ignited will be enough light and warmth to pass the night. What has happened?


An arrow imbeds itself into the sand ceiling. Sand falls around me, threatening to be my last sight. I trip and plunge into darkness, falling through the air. The floor approaches and hits. I hear something crunch. The wall darkens even as I see fire approaching. The void claims me again.

Vision returns and I first see a storage chest. Then I see green column with a slightly wider box on top. The column turns around and an empty, block, frowning face stares at me. I knock over a nearby chair and attempt to scale the bed post.

“Ssstop.”

The “S” is like a hiss and I whip my head around. The frowning column…thing…hasn’t moved. I stare at it in silence and it stares back at me. Time passes.

“I am a Creeper.”

Nothing moves on this Creeper’s face or body. The words flow through my mind, surpassing sound. Curiosity materializes as a question.

I ask slowly, “What is a Creeper?”

Instead of answering, the Creeper starts pacing. It lowers it head to look at the ground. I see that there are four…stubs that act as legs. The top half is the same color as the rest of its body while the other half is black as the Creeper’s bottomless eyes. It shines dully as if it was made of a hard substance. However, even when the Creeper walks, no sound is made. Only an extremely small amount of air is disturbed. I don’t see a single sign of arms or hands. No stubs, no interruption in the body. Absolutely uniform. The Creeper stops pacing.

“We have pondered on this question among man others.”

“We? There are other Creepers beside you?

“Yes…and no. The others I referred to are not Creepers. However, there are other Creepers. I suggest you avoid
them. They are not…civilized as me. But we are getting off topic. First, that is your name?”

I ponder for a second and my mind produces an answer. “My name is Jesonomi.”

“Interesting. A name that has no bonds. My name is Crethe.”

“Bonds? How about your name? Does it have bonds?”

“It does. I’m sure you have noticed how quiet I am besides talking. As for the other part, you will find out soon. Get your items from the chest and follow me.”

I check the storage chest and find my bag along with my tools and materials. I take them out and put them into my bag. I sling it over my shoulder and it disappears. One of the few improvements of this…dimension. Crethe starts walking and enters a hallway. He rounds a corner and I hear a thump followed by the sound of wood hitting stone. I briefly wonder how I knew that but then also wonder how I didn’t know my name. It confuses me and I feel a slight headache coming so I stop thinking about it and follow Crethe. I walk into the hallway and peek around the corner. A door lies open and I see a light emanating from the room lying behind the door. I step into the room and panic seeps into my blood. Terror. Despair. Death.


In the room lies Crethe, a green-faced, bloodied person, a huge spider and…a skeleton. I jump backwards, swinging myself back into the hall with the door. I slam it as soon as I get past and lean against it, bracing myself with the floor. I expect some sort of commotion and an attempt to force the door open but nothing happens. Silence. And then a voice. I nearly mistake it for Crethe but then I notice that it is somewhat different. It borders between being in my mind and out loud. It’s hissing, yes, but it is in short bursts. Like spitting through one’s teeth.

“Do not fear us. If you must fear, first learn who or what to fear instead. Come back inside. I believe you are intelligent enough to simply talk.”

“I should hope so. He doesn’t seem like the intelligent type. Slamming doors and skipping greetings.” Yet another voice, spoken deeply out loud, and dripping with sarcasm.

I open the door cautiously and step in. Crethe is looking at the others while they stare at me. I attempt to swallow my fear at the skeleton’s proximity.

“That wasn’t so hard now was it…boy.” The deep voice belongs to the green-faced person leaning against the wall to the right of me. I begin to ponder why he has blood when I realize what he called me. Anger from an unknown source mixes with my fear.

“BOY?!?! I’VE SURVIVED WOUNDS THAT KILL EVEN THE TOUGHEST OF PEOPLE! I’VE KILLED THINGS THAT ARE ABSOLUTELY UNTHINKABLE! I’M PART OF–” The word flow out before I can even stop to even understand my own words. The tugging from earlier returns, stronger than before, turning into a throb that roars throughout my entire body. I start shaking slightly. I wince, shutting my right eye tightly and clap a hand on my forehead. My brain throbs again, thundering once, as if owning a rebellious attitude. It tries to put something into my mind’s hand. A word. I think about my name. It thunders again. Zombie.

“You…are you a...”I pause. “Are you a zombie?” I speak. My voice is miles from being steady but my gut tells me that this is important. My brain stops throbbing, slowly lessening, as if its appetite was satisfied for the period by providing me with “zombie”.

The four seem taken back. All eyes, all fourteen (I manage a slight grin), including mine fall on the green-faced person. He straightens his back. He walks up to me and I see he is the same height of me. He opens his mouth but then closes it, at a loss for words. Finally, he begins to speak.

“That is what most people call me. However, you may call me Renowl.” He seems completely different. The sarcasm vanished, replaced with a wary tenderness.

“Renowl? That name…something’s wrong. Is this a dream?!” Panic that exceeds my fear of the void spreads. Something is at the edge of my mind. It’s calling me. It’s trying to push itself in to tell me something.

I blank out and a hurricane starts in my mind. I am stuck in an abandoned town. Images start raining everywhere, blocking my sight. The “rain” increases, the hurricane drawing closer. Then it all fades away quickly. My mind shuts down, overloaded with it all. Then the images come back in full force. All I can hear is paper whipping by as the images surround me, making a column. My knees buckle and give out. I hear someone say something but it’s indistinguishable. I start to fall forward. A thought fills my mind.

Those images…only contain blood and sorrow. What were they showing?

And then my head slams into the ground.

A voice rings out of the void.
Behold! This is what thy past haft brought upon thy Earth. Pay for the sufferings caused. Burn in Hades.

I’m back at the town the hurricane of images devastated. The buildings have broken down even further. The buildings have been ripped apart, doors completely torn off of their hinges, holes blasted into the walls and craters littering the ground. Scorch marks strew some buildings while other buildings have only the bare frame left, consumed by the inferno blaze. As I begin to ponder the importance of this place to appear to me twice, the ruins of a building start to rise. Slowly, with the utmost tension, the jumble of wood, brick, glass and concrete start to fall away from the rising center. A white blob appears, still moving upward, as the last of the mound falls away. A simple egg shaped thing. It has grey lines surrounding it, some wrinkles on the side facing me and is relatively covered with dark red splatters. The rubble chipped off some of it but there is still enough for me to identify it. Dried blood. The wrinkles disappear at an alarming rate and a face takes their place. No pupils, no teeth, no tongue. Just pure red. The thing shrieks a horrifying noise, children giggling mixed with a mass amount of people screaming in pure horror. It proceeds to fire an enormous flaming ball at me.


The ball flies by me, singing the very ends of my hair. It starts to slowly glide toward me. White cracks in the ground start to seal and white ropes snake out of the ground. I put my hands in front of me in fists for defense but the ropes simply snake onto buildings, climbing them by simply being in contact. As each one reaches the top of the building they were climbing, they propel themselves of into the direction of the demon egg. A brief period of hope arises to be squashed when the ropes simply land on the beast. As each one starts to attach itself to the bottom of the demon, I realize that the ropes are tentacles. The tentacles bend slightly as the monsters fires again. The projectiles are smaller yet numerous and fired in a wide spread. My instincts take over and I run the hell away from this monster, this demon, this ghost from hell. My course changes slightly as I run around a crater.

Vehicle-borne I.E.D.

The words flow into my head and the tugging on my mind resumes. And then stops as another flaming rock smashes into the ground right behind me. The impact causes a wave that makes me stumble and trip over debris. I start to get up when a tentacle grabs me by the ankle and starts pulling me back. Fear, not instinct, not anger, not anything else, powers my attack. I twist around and stomp on the tentacle with my other leg. It shrinks back slightly but then comes back at nearly full force. I start getting mad. I grab a piece of the rubble in my right hand and SMASH IT DOWN ONTO THE TENTACLE. It shrivels up slightly and just goes limp. The monster shrieks again, even louder than the other times, to the point of ear-splitting noise. It spits out three slabs molten rock. I yank my leg one last time and the tentacle simply slides off. I nearly get up when one of the rocks crashes into my right arm.

I howl in pain and turn around to face this entity that has been forsaken by all. My face knots into an embodiment of fury. I’m about to run toward the monster when I realize that my left arm is practically of no use when trying to do anything strength related. DAMN.

I turn around and attempt to flee as the fiend fires a final blazing rock. I know what to do. I’m going to use its attack to help me. I jump right before the blast hits. The force propels me forward into a building. And right down a hole. I decide to start yelling.

“ARGH!!! I HATE THIS PLACE, I HATE THAT THING AND I HATE MY LIFE!!!”

The daylight fades to be replaced with blue and green glows. The colors alternate, making a stupid, cheap light show. Then a thought hits me. Where’s the ground? I try to turn myself around, and I manage it after a few tries. As I turn around, I think about what I’m going to do about the floor. And then I smash into it.


I bolt upright, throwing the covers off. My face is burning and sweat pours down my face. I wipe it off of on my shirt but it just keeps swarming out of my pores. Adrenaline has practically filled my body, still caught up in the fight. I try to slow down my heart rate and asses my situation. I’m back in the bed. I remember my visions. The fall. The…dream? I no longer know. I only know that something want me to know of its existence. I know that much. I want to know WHAT it is.

“So…Jesonomi, is it? Are you okay? You took quite the fall.”

The voice is in my mind yet I can feel a location. Left. I turn my head at a normal speed, still trying to calm myself down. The skeleton. I jump a bit, widen my eyes, beat my heart, all while scooting back. So much for relaxing. Of course, he notices my reaction.

“Oh? You didn’t seem scared of the others…Perhaps you have had a bad experience with another of my kind? I can assure you that I am much more civilized that the one you met.” For some strange reason, his voice calms me out of all things. I realize that I need to respond.

“Okay. That’s…good.” My voice is miniscule. I barely manage to squeak out the answer.


“Still shy? It’s okay, you’ll trust me soon enough. I would try to converse with you a bit more but I don’t know anything about you. Crethe, for once, is at a lack of information. Will you tell us the events that brought you here?” His manner is almost like an acquainted, yet unknown, person trying to make friends. I nod.

“Great. I’ll get the others then. I won’t be long.” He starts to walk out when he stops, making me think for a split second that he tripped. He straightens up and turn back toward me.

“Oh my, my manners really have died. I don’t believe you need to introduce yourself. I am Shrate.” His voice continues to calm me with its demeanor. I can almost grab onto his voice. Its rigid, yet smooth. Amazingly calming.

“Shrate? Hm. A strange name.” For once, there is no tugging.

“No stranger than Jesonomi.” He chuckles. His voice swirls around in my mind and makes me feel closest to home than ever. He walks with slight “click, clack” noises as his feet touch the ground.

And then what I agreed to in the heat of the moment sinks in. I have to retell the story, the horror. I begin to fidget in nervousness. Will I remember it, will I stutter, will I break down, will I, will I, will I? Then I stop myself. Of course I can remember it. I can RELIVE it. And that is what I will do. Forget the present and travel into the past to tell my story. Shrate comes back, leading the other three. Renowl and Crethe walk right behind him while the spider is in the back. To compensate for space I suppose. Crethe wears his same old frown but there is a slight change. His left eye is slightly higher than his right. An expression of curiosity? He speaks in my mind and I start to wonder whether Renowl is the only one who speaks out loud.

“I hope you are well Jesonomi. Let me bring attention to the final being who you have not met yet. I believe he wants to introduce himself.” I am confused for a second before I remember that I know the spider, but not his name. I feel something pass in the air from the spider out to the entire room.

“Thank you Crethe. Now then, welcome Jesonomi. I am known as Eighpin.” More tugging. I refuse it, banishing it into the back of my mind. This is my time. The light is on me. I can’t screw up now. I begin. The events are intense with detail. My consciousness in the void. This world. The woman. The skeleton. The shelter. Word by word, I slowly fall back into the events, reliving them. By the time I tell them about the shelter, my surroundings have already been taken over by the events. I’m back on the surface. Fighting for my life.



Night has fallen and I’m inside the house. Windows are in the east and west walls. As the sun sets, the moon rises. The two forces battle and the light falls back. Shadows fall and I hope the fire I ignited will be enough light and warmth to pass the night. What has happened?

I stare at the fire, sure it will burn out. It never does. My body unwinds itself, begging for rest. I refuse. My mind keeps going back. The woman. The skeleton. The woman. The skeleton. Woman. Skeleton. The wall is cold on my back and there is absolutely no way that I can fall asleep in this situation. Absolutely no way. I try to keep awake by thinking. Amid my thoughts, people weave in and out, their faces shrouded by mist. I fall asleep trying to grasp their identities.



Sunlight falls on my face, flooding my eyes through their covers. I uncurl from the ball I shifted into when I slept. I get to my feet so I can look out the window. Instead, I see that the fire is still burning. I ponder what to do. Yesterday’s actions were pretty much directly from the woman. I won’t get any other instructions from her. I decide to sort out the storage chests. I open the chest with the planks. There are the planks, dirt, wool, coal, a torch, some glass, and a bit of sand. I begin to arrange them when I see a bit of paper stuck on the bottom. I scrape it off and look at it. It’s a sketch. Of something. I squint a bit more. It’s…a hole. A hole? A hole in the ground…A mine!
I take some tools from the second chest. I glance at the paper. East. As I exit, I feel an urge to look back. I do. The house stands alone on its hill, patched with wood. I make a sign to it. A flat hand 45 degrees compared to my forehead. I don’t understand what it is. I just do it. It feels right and the urge leaves. I turn my back and start my journey. After a few minutes, I see it. An entrance made of broken stone…no. It’s made of cobblestone. The same as the shelter. I’ve never seen cobblestone in nature. It lies at the intersection of a beach and a mountain. Strange how the two mix. I run over to the entrance.

It’s lit up but not closed off. Alerts go off in my mind. I walk hunched over, trying to be stealthy. Nothing happens. I peek over the edge and see a ladder. Still attempting to be quiet, I slowly climb down. When I see what’s at the bottom, I forget about being silent.

“Ohmygosh.”

The mine is giant, the beginning a rectangle shaped room, the rest, a crazy mass of giant caves and tunnels. Some are lit up with lanterns but others are pitch black. I walk a few steps forward and instantly come across some stone with black things dotting it. I scrape a bit of the black stuff with my pick. It’s coal. I pick up my pickaxe and swing it, smashing it into the coal. Some cracks appear. I try hitting it with a bit less force, but at a faster speed. After a bit, I develop a technique. Just the right force, trajectory, and speed. The rock breaks and disappears. Instead, a piece of coal pops out. It’s not small but not big. I could probably fit three or so in my hand with a slight bit of trouble. I feel accomplished when I see what I changed. There’s more coal behind the one I mined, yes, but…the hole I made to collect this piece…is perfect. A cube of air. I’m puzzled. I don’t understand. But then I do. Cubes. This world runs on cubes. This world is based on cubes. Perhaps even this universe makes its laws according to cubes. I start off with replenished will. With this law in mind, perhaps I can figure out everything. I will be someone who stands above all. The one with all the knowledge. Then I stop to ponder how to get down this ledge to explore the rest of the mine.

TWANG!

An arrow flies by me, piercing into the stone wall. My head whips up, and I see it. Another skeleton. The lanterns’ light falls onto its bones, making an eerie glow. It stands in front of several lanterns, casting shadows across the walls. They dance, flickering around like leaves in a storm. It moves its hand to the quiver on its back and withdraws an arrow in one smooth motion. The last I see of the skeleton before running off is the string being pulled back. Attempting to retreat, I trip on some sand. I get up and trip again.

TWANG!

Another arrow flies over my head and sticks itself in the ground. I grab it and throw it like a javelin. It misses by meters but makes the skeleton take a step back. It recovers and fires again as I run.

Twang!

The sound is muffled and I stop to see what happened. Then I see it falling from the impact point. Along with the rest of the ceiling. The falling sand starts to move in my direction like the start of a rainstorm. Torches are knocked from their posts and extinguished. Another arrow is shot to be knocked down by a chunk of sand. I’m slipping in my desperate attempt to escape. I get up, covered in sand, and run with all I have. The sand refuses the force I exert and I slide right into a hole. I hit the floor with my arm and then…



I am jerked back to the present, shaken by the events. What? Where? When? ...Right. Back with Crethe and the others. Possibly safe. It’s okay. I look at them to see their reactions. They moved while I was telling the story, leaning against walls, sitting on the floor, and I wonder about my actions in this room while I was in the past. Eighpin breaks the silence.

“Amazing. However, I do not think that this story should be limited to the five of us.”

“Yes, I agree. It should be written down.” Shrate answers.

“What do you guys mean?” I’m puzzled over their response. Crethe tells me.

“We want you to write your story. To leave your life for others in the future to find out and to learn from. Renowl, if you would get a Blank and something for Jesonomi to write with, that would be great.”

“Sure.” Renowl walks off.

“Wait, what? Write my life down? What’s a Blank? When am I going to find time to write down things that happen to me?” I simply cannot comprehend what Crethe means.

“Write a journal. Nobody can retell these events with more detail than you. Oh, and a Blank, that is especially for writing down lives.”Renowl returns with a thin folder that has two pieces of paper inside. Once again, I am confused how these things work. He hands me the Blank and then takes something from his pocket. He hands it to me as well. It’s…a pointed stick with an iron…no, some sort of metal, tip.

“This is a pencil. You can write with this and undo mistakes with the eraser at the end. We do not think that it runs out. I believe you will put it to good use.” He speaks like a teacher, which I suppose he is, for now.

Throb. Tug. Throb Tug. ThrobTug.

“You press it against the paper and move it. It works like that doesn’t it?” Words crawl out from my mouth without a thought. Habit? My mind gives answers to questions I never asked. It never answers the ones I do have.
Renowl’s forehead scrunches up. Crethe’s left eye is elevated. Eighpin’s head is tilted to the right. Shrate has his hand over his mouth. I surprise these four very often. I also seem to be creating much silence. This time, I break it.

“Well? Is that how it works?” I demand an answer, frustrated at how my mind knows things that my conscious doesn’t.

“That is how it works. Now then, how do you work?” Shrate gives me the answer I want but also throws a question at me.

“I don’t know. My mind isn’t…well, letting my conscious know anything. It just throws tidbits of information at me every once in a while. After throbbing painfully.” Frustration leaves. Fear strides it. Why don’t I know anything? BLASPHEMOUS.

“Interesting. Perhaps some time in the library will help? Take a break from your writing to visit it. I’m sure you will find at least the answer of one question. Perhaps it will be a question you didn’t think of. I think we will leave now. Let you write.” Now I’m sure that Shrate is curious. I also find out that he thinks about things deeply. Questions I never thought about? Interesting. Looks like I need to find out more about myself, and them. So far, they seem friendly. But what if it’s just an act? I’ll need to find out then, won’t I?




SPOILER ALERT: THIS IS THE ENDING TO THIS STORY.

I settle down in my bed for night, exhausted by the day’s events. My conscious slowly fades as I lull into sleep. And then it’s jolted back. I open my eyes wearily, wondering why I feel so awake. Then my eyes open wide, seeing the thing in front of me. It’s green and I reach out to touch it. The texture is smooth but now made for comfort. Where is this? I hear yelling in the distance and seconds later, an explosion. Creepers? That can’t be possible. I thought that peace was established. I look around. There are identical beds everywhere but nobody occupies them. A man strides in and his eyes fall on me.

“Have you gotten better Ten-Thirteen? Either way, you’d better get up. We’re under attack.” As if to agree with him, another explosion rocks the ground. He leaves. 1013? I slide out of the sheets and look around hurriedly. A black piece of metal lies on a nearby tray. My mind tells me to pick it up. I’ve learnt to trust my mind by now and so I listen to it. I lay a finger on it and memories flood back. I drop to my knee and grab at the back of my head. The pain is excruciating. It passes quickly and I remember everything. When this is. Where I am. Who I exist as. What I’m doing here.

It’s Year Whoknowswhat. People stopped caring about time and more about their lives when the war started. And continued. Some people refer to it as World War III. Other people, terrorist attacks. Either way, they weren’t in the army. We refer to it as The War. When the mood is a bit better, Old Warr-ie. Because we can never rid ourselves of the worry for our lives.

I’m somewhere in the outskirts of Amerates. I hear that it used to be an extremely populated, busy area. Now it’s just a desolate plain. As for where I am, exactly, I’m in the sick bay. I wandered out to take a whiz when a sniper shot at me. Thankfully, the bullet only grazed my head. They still put me here even though I only needed a bandage. Really, they sprout so much nonsense about “being professional” while they can’t even give effort to be efficient.

Who I am? Not a Persson. A human. Raised for this war. Sex is no longer a fun act. It’s for creating new soldiers. Nobody wants to bear children to have them snatched away at birth to be sent off to death. My mother? I have this incredibly faint recollection of tears streaming from green eyes. None of us know our mothers. There are no care packages. Everything goes toward this war. We have no names. Just numbers. 1013. I’m the one-thousand thirteenth soldier of the seventh generation. Jesonomi? My mind gave me that because it recognized a new start. It also gave me it because I am a Jesonomi. A scouting group. I have no identity. I walk out, wondering how I ended back here. Was it all a dream? Soldiers run around everywhere, scrambling for their weapons. I’m rushed into battle.

Checkpoint W/E

Gunfire is everywhere. Thought is not possible on the battlefield. A shell explodes somewhere on my right. It could be either the enemies or out own. One man for his own, literally. I fall down into a trench and my leg refuses to get back up. I watch as people jump over me, coming from both sides. Bodies roll down to give me company, their blood slowly wetting the dirt. Then I hear the impact. People start screaming and messages are blasted through our radios. A car flies over the trench, bumper over bumper. Then the shockwave follows. They used the warheads. That’s my last thought before everything fades to black.

Updates

Dec 26: Ending posted
Dec 19: Got internet back up. Checkpoint 3 - Day 3: End
Dec 3 : 2nd Update. Day 2: End - Checkpoint 3
Dec 1 : Story updated. Checkpoint 1 - Day 2: End
Nov 28 : Story first posted. Beginning - Checkpoint 1

I give thanks to the following people:

jonnopon3000, for writing DOAC and introducing me into the world of MC fan fiction.

Dragonchampion, for writing Miner's Eternity and starting the beginning of my motivation.

vgxmaster, for writing Memorium and further pushing me along.

Zeninko, my friend, for motivating me to continue in the early stages.

And to all of the other writers such as Jamsponge,10204307, featherblade and GhostG45. For simply being there. Silently making peer pressure. :biggrin.gif:

Random Crap

Before posting the story, I was working on making this on Minecraft. It's in its very basics, although it is up to date on locations up to Dec 1st. After (finishing?) the story, I may continue to work on it. By the way: Caverns? FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU.
Word is actually horrible at detecting past spelling. I ignore grammar because I'm going for a story, not an essay. But seriously, it didn't see anything wrong with "mu" when I wanted my. >_>

And again, reserved.

Bump! I would really appreciate it if people commented! I'm just going in a random direction now...toward the plot. I'll try to be back soon! No internet at my house. >_>

Quote from Sk8rGameFreak »

Honestly, I didn't really like it. A little bit more cursing than needed, missed punctuations and grammar. The story was okay, but I wasn't interested. I also like your writing style.

Sad to hear that. D: On the cursing part, I suppose I could tone that down. I mean, 4 "****"s? Yeah. I could probably remove that. Missed punctuation and grammar?
The punctuation: Really? I type this out in Word before posting it.
The grammar: Yea. I kinda want to go for a more...dramatic(?) view.
The story: Sorry. I don't really want to just shove the plot into the story. I kinda want to slowly drip it in. But I guess I also need a hooking line, huh?
Well. Even though you didn't like the story, thanks for the advice.
Edit: I forgot about this but another one of my problems is that my character keeps slamming into the ground. >_> I'll change that soon enough. "****s" are no longer given (As in, I changed them). I hope damn isn't too bad.

Quote from Valdrec »

I enjoyed it. You clearly thought deeply about narrative in Minecraft, and you share my fear of Ghasts XD. There were some good descriptive moments in the story that I'd love to see more of. I personally think that it wouldn't take too long to get to where you want to get.
The magic of the written word is that it can take as long as it likes. It's not going anywhere :tongue.gif:
I mean, Harry potter took 7 books, and I dread to think how many pages overall.

Ah, but you don't know what I had in mind for our character here. If you want, I can write a bit more, skipping everything and getting right to the climax. PM, or post it here?
...BTW, does anyone know how to make spoilers? I'm pretty sure I've seen them on this forum. Or I am confusing it with something else?
Edit:

Quote from Valdrec »

Yeah you should totally write it! It may help you to work out the middle bits.

Alright, I suppose I'll HAVE to write it then at your insistence. -Sigh...wink-...But you can't blame me for taking forever. I'm writing a sequel to Timid Affection right now and romance takes a lot of planning....-COUGHCOUGHwhatromanceCOUGH?- But yea...you will be extremely surprised by the ending. On second thought though...I'll put it in a code box until I get up to that point. So people can skip it.

Ending is up. Don't expect much. I didn't write it out first like I usually do. Would have messed with my notebook. >_<

Quote from coalpup »

i couldnt read it all cos m eyes stared hurting o.0 i red up to checkpoint one its really good :biggrin.gif: but the friendy creeper is kinda creepy >.>

WTF. I'm pretty sure I replied to this a few days ago. What the heck. Anyway, like I remember saying, it's a bit awkward because I'm trying to introduce the character to the world of Minecraft. And a friendly creeper strays from there and so I had to put some thought into it.

Quote from JamieMin0r »

Really good story. At the start I thought "Oh look, another story where the human somehow is the only one to make friends with the mobs," but it turned out to be much better. I enjoyed the beginning the most, the woman who gave her life to save the stranger (At least I think that was it. Too late here for too much thought).

Yeah, as my first story, it was probably influenced by DOAC. As for the woman, more like she was fighting, got pinned down, saved by the sun...why the fck didn't she get saved?...Lets just go with creepers were gonna finish the rest but were late for some random reason. I didn't plan out this story like the others so it tends to be a bit stupid at times. And I might every once in a while update it.