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.
Honestly, I don't see what this has to do with "Night Terrors".
Honestly i meant it more along the lines of this.
A night terror, sleep terror or pavor nocturnus is a parasomnia disorder, causing feelings of terror or dread, and typically occurring in the first few hours of sleep during stage 3 or 4 non-rapid eye movement (NREM) sleep. Night terrors tend to happen during periods of arousal from delta sleep, also known as slow wave sleep. During the first half of a sleep cycle, delta sleep occurs most often which indicates that people with more delta sleep activity are more prone to night terrors.[3] However, they can also occur during daytime naps.
Instead of having it as literal night battles and such... I will be more specific next time.
A night terror, sleep terror or pavor nocturnus is a parasomnia disorder, causing feelings of terror or dread, and typically occurring in the first few hours of sleep during stage 3 or 4 non-rapid eye movement (NREM) sleep. Night terrors tend to happen during periods of arousal from delta sleep, also known as slow wave sleep. During the first half of a sleep cycle, delta sleep occurs most often which indicates that people with more delta sleep activity are more prone to night terrors.[3] However, they can also occur during daytime naps.
Instead of having it as literal night battles and such... I will be more specific next time.
Oh.
You thought we knew you meant that?
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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.
A night terror, sleep terror or pavor nocturnus is a parasomnia disorder, causing feelings of terror or dread, and typically occurring in the first few hours of sleep during stage 3 or 4 non-rapid eye movement (NREM) sleep. Night terrors tend to happen during periods of arousal from delta sleep, also known as slow wave sleep. During the first half of a sleep cycle, delta sleep occurs most often which indicates that people with more delta sleep activity are more prone to night terrors.[3] However, they can also occur during daytime naps.
Instead of having it as literal night battles and such... I will be more specific next time.
Do monsters still count? Cause I had NO IDEA that's what you meant.
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."
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."
Feel free to leave your comments. Or criticisms, I suppose, if they're constructive. Almost anything really, unless it's an outright threat. In that case I'd prefer you put it in a private message.
Feel free to leave your comments. Or criticisms, I suppose, if they're constructive. Almost anything really, unless it's an outright threat. In that case I'd prefer you put it in a private message.
100 - 200 words over is fine,
I am thinking about doing it a half week,
Sunday - Tuesday (or Wednesday) Is voting for winner.
Wednesday(Or Thursday) Is voting for new theme.
Feel free to leave your comments. Or criticisms, I suppose, if they're constructive. Almost anything really, unless it's an outright threat. In that case I'd prefer you put it in a private message.
Feel free to leave your comments. Or criticisms, I suppose, if they're constructive. Almost anything really, unless it's an outright threat. In that case I'd prefer you put it in a private message.
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
This made me laugh... XD
Funny.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
OnceInALongTime: "You confuse me, Mage. Amazability should be a word so I could describe your words."
Honestly, I don't see what this has to do with "Night Terrors".
Oh.
You thought we knew you meant that?
Was going to fix it today but i found stories...
What now?
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."
World count: 917.
Yes, i will be more specific with the next theme.
How long do you guys think the voting should go for?
I think you should give at least a day, maybe the same day as the next one comes out so you can save time.
I am thinking about doing it a half week,
Sunday - Tuesday (or Wednesday) Is voting for winner.
Wednesday(Or Thursday) Is voting for new theme.
Yeah that's even better.
OT: If you want to enter your story but don't think you can get it before Sunday P.M me.
Okay.
yet it has only been up for 2 and a half days...
This made me laugh... XD
Funny.
OnceInALongTime: "You confuse me, Mage. Amazability should be a word so I could describe your words."