It was a dark night in the forests of Minecraftia, a lone miner walking through the undergrowth, searching for the path that would lead him to his small village on the plains. This miner wore a light blue shirt and dark blue jeans and had shining blue eyes.

A smile was plastered on his face, an inventory full of diamonds, iron ore, gold ore and even a few emeralds. Today had been the best mining excursion he had done in a long while. Many traders were coming to town in the morning and he was glad to have items to trade with.

His trade involved mining and fighting, slaying zombies, skeletons, spiders and other mobs that appeared in the night. He had started with no supplies and now he was one of the best miners in the business. His torch was in his left hand, his sword in his right. The night was deadly in this world, and one false move could spell disaster for the young man.

His name was Steve. He did not remember his past, at least before this world he had appeared in. He had woke up, injured and hurt, his own survival instincts easily taking hold of him. He had managed to survive the horrors of this world, defeating the Ender Dragon and a Wither, although he soon found out there were more Ender Dragons and more Withers, but he was happy to continue nether the less.

He was unafraid of anything in this world, the mobs were just average, even the cave spiders were fine. Only one thing could keep him afraid, and that was those white eyes that he had seen on the first night he had appeared in Minecraftia.

He was just beginning his search for a suitable shelter when he saw them. He looked through the dense trees and a few metres away were bright white eyes, just staring at him, into his very soul. It made him sick to his stomach, and he felt a dread, like his days were numbered, before they had even begun.

He had looked away for a second and then the eyes had vanished. He rubbed his eyes, wondering if they were a hallucination, and he put it down to that. He was certain that he would never remember them, but recently he had nightmares. Nightmares about those eyes.

He ran through the forests, drenched in cold sweat, his breath ragged from loss of oxygen. He turned and everywhere he looked he saw those cold and soulless eyes. He could hear something whispering into his ear.

"He...hero...bri..ne.."

The name struck fear throughout his body, and then he heard a scream, his scream, before opening his eyes and waking up in his bed to a horrible feeling.

Once he even thought that he had seen those eyes outside his window, straight after his awakening. It spooked him for a long time and he refused to leave his home for many days before the village priest drove him out.

He had asked about the name, but everyone who heard it either turned quiet or ignored the question. He was confused but gave up on the subject. Even his visit to the library was ended in failure, all of the books seemingly vanished from their places.

After he went on mining trips he thought he could hear footsteps, a creak of floorboards, the slash of water or the crack of stone. He became paranoid and today was his only mining trip where these were not present.

By the time he had left the mines he had forgotten his fears, although it was short lived. He walked down the paths through the jungle, and was ready to laugh out loud from happiness, when he heard the snap of a branch.

Steve span around, only to come face to face with the white eyes. He fell to the floor, his vision clearing slightly, until he realized it was just a couple of sheep in the distance.

"I'm going mad," He muttered in annoyance. "I best get home quickly."

"You won't be doing that."

Steve froze. That voice was so cold, so heartless, so horrible that it sent shivers up his spine. He knew that voice anywhere. It was the voice in his nightmares, the terror in his eyes, the fear in his heart. He slowly looked around his shoulder, to see the actual white eyes and the form of a man staring at him.

"H..herobrine..." He muttered in fear. " No..what!?"

"You are not leaving this jungle alive," the cold voice said.

Steve looked the man up and down. He was the spitting image of himself, a doppelganger, except the eyes, the cold white eyes that searched his soul for his worst fears. Steve then looked around, realizing something else.

"Where are all the mobs?"

The man began to laugh, his eyes keeping that soulless glare locked on him, for all that he could tell. Steve looked at the monster with a fear, a horrible feeling settling into the pit of his stomach.

"My minions," He laughed causing Steve to gasp. "They never come near me, because they will die!"

"You..your minions.." Steve choked out, his eyes beginning to dart around for a possible escape. "You lead them!?"

Herobrine, the lord of the mobs, laughed once more, his hand moving to his belt. Steve saw the sword sheathed there and with a jolt, he burst from his place on the ground and sped away towards the safety of the trees.

Herobrine unsheathed his sword, the diamond blade shining in the night, a small flame on the tip. He looked towards the running figure of the miner he had been haunting for the past few months.

"I love it when they run," his eyes burned with an insane glint, power searing into his blade. "Run, fool, and die tonight!"

Steve heard the cry and continued running. He wanted to escape with his life, however, he could feel his breath beginning to leave his body, sweat covering his face, just like his dreams. His dreams ended in terror, but he was determined not to let this end in pain.

Steve burst from the trees, tripping on a tree root and tumbling into the plains beyond. His village sat a few miles in the distance, his safe home sitting there, waiting for him to enter.

However, before he could get up he felt a foot on his back.

"Gotcha, Steve!" His name rolling off of the monster's tongue with a cruel, cold fierceness.

"Let me go!"

The monster raised his sword, flames bursting from the hilt of the sword. It plunged down when Steve raised one of his legs in a kicking moment. It hit the demon in the back of the leg causing him to trip, if only for a second.

Steve jumped up and turned around, getting his own sword and swinging it at the monster. The monster turned, flames spewing from his sword. Both swords clashed together, small shockwaves ringing through the air.

The power was too much for Steve and he could feel his sword cracking under the pressure of the flaming inferno, which was Herobrine's sword. With a sudden power he smashed his sword towards Herobrine, flames covering them both.

The flames vanished and one of the figures was on the ground, in pain and hurting, blood gushing from a chest wound. Steve looked at the fallen figure below, the body of the demon writhing in pain. He squirmed as Steve went down to check the monster.

Now Steve looked at the man, he saw just a man, not a monster but a being who was feeling pain for the first time in years. He raised his sword, ready to kill the beast, but then he stopped. If he killed this man, he would be no better than him.

The man was too weak to move, and Steve knew he had to do something. Kill or help. He looked into those soulless eyes, and saw something. A glint of fear. So he helped...