Forum rules require me to blatantly state that HEROBRINE IS NOT REAL.
I've been playing Minecraft for a very long time. I've been playing older versions of the game again after not having picked it up for several years, and the memories are coming right back to me. One of these memories was the original rumor, mystery and ghost that was Herobrine. Tales of this entity were flung back and forth like monkey poo at a zoo during Minecraft Alpha, and I was one of the poor sods who thought that he was a real threat. I was constantly on the lookout for the beast and was grief-proofing all of my structures with piles of obsidian.
This was a very fond memory, and it also unearthed more old knowledge. During this phase of the game (Alpha), I was constantly writing fanfictions to show my love for the experience. I don't think they were very good looking back (and by that I mean they were trash).
I started writing this short piece as a tribute to that simpler time, to remind myself of how far both I and this game have come. It is also the reason why this story takes place back in Alpha 1.1.2_01, right around the time I hopped on Notch's wild ride.
^ Not a spoiler for the story, but rather some background information on why I wrote this.
---
Steve had just got done with his latest expedition. This one had been a bust in comparison to his other voyages; the mine across the lake usually yielded much better spoils. He made his way across the puke-green grass through the glade of the woods, square moon shining overhead. His home was just a little ways away.
The shelter was nothing special; it was a wood box carved into the side of a mountain that had caught his eye when he first showed up. A glass wall lined the front door, providing a neat view of the surrounding area.
Steve groggily stepped inside his abode, unlatching the lock on his door and letting himself in. He took off his armor piece by piece and laid it out by the front door. It had been a very long 10 minute day down in the caves, and all he wanted was a bit of rest. He laid down his tools and went to sleep on the few blocks of wool that were supposed to be his bed.
However, Steve did not get the 7 minutes of sleep that he had hoped for. Very faint footsteps from beyond his front door awoke him slowly. This was not the first time; aimless monsters and animals alike would wander by his home on any night and sometimes wake the poor man. This time seemed different, however. Something seemed off. He stumbled off of his bed and went to the window.
A dense fog had formed around his house, and he could barely see beyond the few trees he had planted there. Steve focused hard to find the source of the noise that had interrupted his slumber, and at last he saw it.
On the very edge of his visibility stood a man... or, at least what he assumed to be a man. The figure was just staring at him, standing as still as a statue. Steve first believed that he may have under cooked his supper, but after rubbing his eyes and a couple of slaps on his cheeks, the man was still there. Who was he? It was the first human Steve had seen ever since he had washed up on the shore only months ago, completely oblivious to his origin. Did the man need help? Was he homeless and confused as Steve had once been? After a short while, Steve decided to try and lend a helping hand. He left the safety of his home and approached the figure.
Before he could even get close, the man spun on his heels and bolted off in the other direction. Steve gave chase.
The man moved just as fast as he did, so a close approach wasn't an option. All Steve could do was keep up, following the silhouette just barely in sight. Why was he running away? Was he just shy? Was he leading him somewhere? These questions balled up in Steve's mind as he kept up the pace.
He chased the man for what felt like an eternity, far away from the place he called home, now in an unfamiliar part of the woods. Steve had left all of his equipment and gear back at his base, save for one spare slice of bacon he kept in his pocket. Unprotected from the threats of the night, he had no way to combat the zombies that began to flank him on both sides, swiping their sharp claws at Steve's tender flesh. The figure ahead of him, though, didn't even seem to bother the otherworldly beasts that now surrounded Steve.
Small screw-ups and monster attacks bogged Steve's pace too much for him to keep up, and the mysterious figure disappeared into the dense mist ahead. The surrounding woods were unrecognizable to Steve; the chase had left him utterly lost. In his favor, the sun began to rise, and the dense fog that had engulfed him all night finally lifted. The man was nowhere to be seen... none of the monsters either. Steve perched himself on a tree and was able to see the entire forest. He finally spotted his home mountain and made headway under the morning sun.
Steve was greeted with a crater where his home used to be. Everything he had worked for was gone in one visceral instant.
This wasn't any ordinary creeper explosion, it was something far more devious. It had been a controlled detonation. No dumb monster or animal could've had the wit to pull off such a feat.
It must've been that man.
He suddenly heard the pattering of very quick feet from his behind. He turned to address the threat, but he was knocked out cold in the very next second.
When he finally came around, he was very badly injured, even to the brink of death. Steve had been left lying on the floor in a very tiny room which was pitch black. Using every ounce of what strength he had left, he pushed himself off of the floor and felt the walls around him; obsidian, the hardest rock around, boxed him in on each side. He felt no door or exit; he was trapped.
On the last wall he felt, his fingers felt something rough. It was a wood plaque on fixed to the wall. Steve waited for his eyes to adjust and read the simple sign.
Forum rules require me to blatantly state that HEROBRINE IS NOT REAL.
I've been playing Minecraft for a very long time. I've been playing older versions of the game again after not having picked it up for several years, and the memories are coming right back to me. One of these memories was the original rumor, mystery and ghost that was Herobrine. Tales of this entity were flung back and forth like monkey poo at a zoo during Minecraft Alpha, and I was one of the poor sods who thought that he was a real threat. I was constantly on the lookout for the beast and was grief-proofing all of my structures with piles of obsidian.
This was a very fond memory, and it also unearthed more old knowledge. During this phase of the game (Alpha), I was constantly writing fanfictions to show my love for the experience. I don't think they were very good looking back (and by that I mean they were trash).
I started writing this short piece as a tribute to that simpler time, to remind myself of how far both I and this game have come. It is also the reason why this story takes place back in Alpha 1.1.2_01, right around the time I hopped on Notch's wild ride.
^ Not a spoiler for the story, but rather some background information on why I wrote this.
---
Steve had just got done with his latest expedition. This one had been a bust in comparison to his other voyages; the mine across the lake usually yielded much better spoils. He made his way across the puke-green grass through the glade of the woods, square moon shining overhead. His home was just a little ways away.
The shelter was nothing special; it was a wood box carved into the side of a mountain that had caught his eye when he first showed up. A glass wall lined the front door, providing a neat view of the surrounding area.
Steve groggily stepped inside his abode, unlatching the lock on his door and letting himself in. He took off his armor piece by piece and laid it out by the front door. It had been a very long 10 minute day down in the caves, and all he wanted was a bit of rest. He laid down his tools and went to sleep on the few blocks of wool that were supposed to be his bed.
However, Steve did not get the 7 minutes of sleep that he had hoped for. Very faint footsteps from beyond his front door awoke him slowly. This was not the first time; aimless monsters and animals alike would wander by his home on any night and sometimes wake the poor man. This time seemed different, however. Something seemed off. He stumbled off of his bed and went to the window.
A dense fog had formed around his house, and he could barely see beyond the few trees he had planted there. Steve focused hard to find the source of the noise that had interrupted his slumber, and at last he saw it.
Click here for full image, take a close look!
On the very edge of his visibility stood a man... or, at least what he assumed to be a man. The figure was just staring at him, standing as still as a statue. Steve first believed that he may have under cooked his supper, but after rubbing his eyes and a couple of slaps on his cheeks, the man was still there. Who was he? It was the first human Steve had seen ever since he had washed up on the shore only months ago, completely oblivious to his origin. Did the man need help? Was he homeless and confused as Steve had once been? After a short while, Steve decided to try and lend a helping hand. He left the safety of his home and approached the figure.
Before he could even get close, the man spun on his heels and bolted off in the other direction. Steve gave chase.
Full Image
The man moved just as fast as he did, so a close approach wasn't an option. All Steve could do was keep up, following the silhouette just barely in sight. Why was he running away? Was he just shy? Was he leading him somewhere? These questions balled up in Steve's mind as he kept up the pace.
He chased the man for what felt like an eternity, far away from the place he called home, now in an unfamiliar part of the woods. Steve had left all of his equipment and gear back at his base, save for one spare slice of bacon he kept in his pocket. Unprotected from the threats of the night, he had no way to combat the zombies that began to flank him on both sides, swiping their sharp claws at Steve's tender flesh. The figure ahead of him, though, didn't even seem to bother the otherworldly beasts that now surrounded Steve.
Small screw-ups and monster attacks bogged Steve's pace too much for him to keep up, and the mysterious figure disappeared into the dense mist ahead. The surrounding woods were unrecognizable to Steve; the chase had left him utterly lost. In his favor, the sun began to rise, and the dense fog that had engulfed him all night finally lifted. The man was nowhere to be seen... none of the monsters either. Steve perched himself on a tree and was able to see the entire forest. He finally spotted his home mountain and made headway under the morning sun.
Steve was greeted with a crater where his home used to be. Everything he had worked for was gone in one visceral instant.
This wasn't any ordinary creeper explosion, it was something far more devious. It had been a controlled detonation. No dumb monster or animal could've had the wit to pull off such a feat.
It must've been that man.
He suddenly heard the pattering of very quick feet from his behind. He turned to address the threat, but he was knocked out cold in the very next second.
When he finally came around, he was very badly injured, even to the brink of death. Steve had been left lying on the floor in a very tiny room which was pitch black. Using every ounce of what strength he had left, he pushed himself off of the floor and felt the walls around him; obsidian, the hardest rock around, boxed him in on each side. He felt no door or exit; he was trapped.
On the last wall he felt, his fingers felt something rough. It was a wood plaque on fixed to the wall. Steve waited for his eyes to adjust and read the simple sign.
Full Image
~Fin~
bloopede dooo