27
Conne(zkfBlankfkz)cting. . . .
Error: H3R0
Logging in. . . .
Simulat(xztChaostzx)ing world for a bit. . . . .
Error: 8R1N3
Simulating world for a bit. . . . . . .
The sunlight glistened on the field. Each stalk of wheat swayed to a different rhythm. The breeze rustled the leaves in a chorus of rattles. A flock of chickens flew by. With each cluck they seemed to ascend higher into the sky. The sun had just risen. The world seemed perfect.
Forest or field? I guess I'll go field.Player walked into the pasture. Waist deep in wheat, he searched for a cave. After chopping down a tree and eating a few apples, he started a long trek through the grassy plains. It seemed as if time didn't pass as Player hiked along. The weather was nice, the clouds were few, and the sun shone not too brightly. As the sun sank a stunning orange covered the skies, and seemed to merge as one with the golden grassland. The minute the sun disappeared from view, a multitude of crickets began their song. In near unison, they chirped along as Player waded through the grain. Clouds gathered in the sky and it started raining, but just enough in order to not destroy the tranquility.
Player neared the end of the grassland, when he finally found a cave. He gathered some wood from a nearby forest and constructed a small yet cozy shack. As he ponderously stared out the window, remembering the dreamlike day, he heard something. "help", and with that thunder cracked out. Player followed the voice into the cave. Once he got not but a few paces into the dim hole, he saw a terrible sight. A man lay dying in a crater, his legs severed from his torso, and his face shredded to pieces. The poor soul would never see again. Player carefully lifted the man and brought him to his shack, where he bandaged his wounds, gave him food and water, and laid him in his bed. While the crippled man rested, Player decided to write an entry in his journal. He opened to the next blank page, dipped his quill in ink and was about to begin his description of his hike, when words materialized on the page: "The Ghost has found its host". The door slammed open and torrent of wind ripped through the windows. Blades of glass shredded nearly everything in the room. As Player tried to escape the shack he remembered the injured man on his bed. He turned around ready to fight a tempest of broken glass, only to find the wind seemed to pull him towards the man. As Player barged into the room he was greeted by a horrifying sight. The wind seemed to pour into the man's mouth. His legs slowly sprouted out of his stumps, as his eye sockets glowed behind the bandage.
Player now understood. The "Ghost in the Code" had destroyed the consciousness of the wounded man, and restored the body. The Ghosts mouth seemed to be a black hole, as everything started getting pulled into it. Chips of reality tore apart and joined with the rest of the rubble, pouring into the gaping mouth. Eventually the tempest stopped and Player found himself in a world of emptiness, staring at the Ghost. About eight feet high, even in tattered clothes, the Ghost seemed to be able to slay Player at any moment. Player accepted his fate and closed his eyes, when the Ghost spoke. "I have been saved, yet I still live in rage. The man you have found is now safe and sound, he is my home, in him I roam." Player made himself ready for his impending doom. " You cannot understand my plight, you cannot understand my fight. You have saveda me, and now I shall save you."
Sunlight sparkled through the wet dew, which covered Player's face. He found himself laying face first in the grassy plain. After a moment of gathering his bearings, the truth suddenly hit him. Player was alive. Was it a dream? He opened his journal not knowing whether to hope the previous night was a dream or not. As he slowly flipped to the page, expecting to see last nights text, something moved in the corner of his eye. When Player reached the page he looked in amazement as the text changed itself again. "Fear me you must not. Live in peace you may." Player looked up and saw, not but a few paces away, the Ghost. As a few seemingly endless seconds seemed to pass, they both stood in silence. The Ghost then turned away and walked out of reality. Player simply stared away in silence. The Ghost could have killed him twice, and no matter how horrible he seemed, Player could do nothing else but lay in the wheat and cry. Cry for the suffering of the Ghost, which he could never understand.
This story was for the Flowing Quills Herobrine story contest which you can find here. I hope this wasn't to cliche for you!
Diamond if you feel like you have to,
Favorite if you really feel like you have to,
Subscribe if you feel like putting up with more of my crap.
Error: H3R0
Logging in. . . .
Simulat(xztChaostzx)ing world for a bit. . . . .
Error: 8R1N3
Simulating world for a bit. . . . . . .
The sunlight glistened on the field. Each stalk of wheat swayed to a different rhythm. The breeze rustled the leaves in a chorus of rattles. A flock of chickens flew by. With each cluck they seemed to ascend higher into the sky. The sun had just risen. The world seemed perfect.
Forest or field? I guess I'll go field.Player walked into the pasture. Waist deep in wheat, he searched for a cave. After chopping down a tree and eating a few apples, he started a long trek through the grassy plains. It seemed as if time didn't pass as Player hiked along. The weather was nice, the clouds were few, and the sun shone not too brightly. As the sun sank a stunning orange covered the skies, and seemed to merge as one with the golden grassland. The minute the sun disappeared from view, a multitude of crickets began their song. In near unison, they chirped along as Player waded through the grain. Clouds gathered in the sky and it started raining, but just enough in order to not destroy the tranquility.
Player neared the end of the grassland, when he finally found a cave. He gathered some wood from a nearby forest and constructed a small yet cozy shack. As he ponderously stared out the window, remembering the dreamlike day, he heard something. "help", and with that thunder cracked out. Player followed the voice into the cave. Once he got not but a few paces into the dim hole, he saw a terrible sight. A man lay dying in a crater, his legs severed from his torso, and his face shredded to pieces. The poor soul would never see again. Player carefully lifted the man and brought him to his shack, where he bandaged his wounds, gave him food and water, and laid him in his bed. While the crippled man rested, Player decided to write an entry in his journal. He opened to the next blank page, dipped his quill in ink and was about to begin his description of his hike, when words materialized on the page: "The Ghost has found its host". The door slammed open and torrent of wind ripped through the windows. Blades of glass shredded nearly everything in the room. As Player tried to escape the shack he remembered the injured man on his bed. He turned around ready to fight a tempest of broken glass, only to find the wind seemed to pull him towards the man. As Player barged into the room he was greeted by a horrifying sight. The wind seemed to pour into the man's mouth. His legs slowly sprouted out of his stumps, as his eye sockets glowed behind the bandage.
Player now understood. The "Ghost in the Code" had destroyed the consciousness of the wounded man, and restored the body. The Ghosts mouth seemed to be a black hole, as everything started getting pulled into it. Chips of reality tore apart and joined with the rest of the rubble, pouring into the gaping mouth. Eventually the tempest stopped and Player found himself in a world of emptiness, staring at the Ghost. About eight feet high, even in tattered clothes, the Ghost seemed to be able to slay Player at any moment. Player accepted his fate and closed his eyes, when the Ghost spoke. "I have been saved, yet I still live in rage. The man you have found is now safe and sound, he is my home, in him I roam." Player made himself ready for his impending doom. " You cannot understand my plight, you cannot understand my fight. You have saveda me, and now I shall save you."
Sunlight sparkled through the wet dew, which covered Player's face. He found himself laying face first in the grassy plain. After a moment of gathering his bearings, the truth suddenly hit him. Player was alive. Was it a dream? He opened his journal not knowing whether to hope the previous night was a dream or not. As he slowly flipped to the page, expecting to see last nights text, something moved in the corner of his eye. When Player reached the page he looked in amazement as the text changed itself again. "Fear me you must not. Live in peace you may." Player looked up and saw, not but a few paces away, the Ghost. As a few seemingly endless seconds seemed to pass, they both stood in silence. The Ghost then turned away and walked out of reality. Player simply stared away in silence. The Ghost could have killed him twice, and no matter how horrible he seemed, Player could do nothing else but lay in the wheat and cry. Cry for the suffering of the Ghost, which he could never understand.
This story was for the Flowing Quills Herobrine story contest which you can find here. I hope this wasn't to cliche for you!
Diamond if you feel like you have to,
Favorite if you really feel like you have to,
Subscribe if you feel like putting up with more of my crap.
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