20
I had lived alone for so many years. The days ticked by. The months flew away, and the years disappeared completely. I'd wandered through the nights, barely capturing glances of the nearby haunters. I kept a mental record of each encounter, each unlike the last. The green one- "zombie" I'd heard them call it, barely had a brain.
It stumbles around mindlessly, looking for nutrition- shallowly thinking it'd be in another creature. The green one especially liked the puppet. It reminded me much of the archer.
Now, for the archer, he'd ought to be my favorite haunter of all. He's not only the remains of a puppet, but he's also the only one whos come close to seeing me. I'd sit on top of trees, crouch in the darkest corner, even stood behind him, breathing every so delicately on his neck. I could hear that vibrant, echoing clack of bones from a mile away, even though it'd be less than an inch in front. He'd turn around and I gracefully teleported away- much like the Hopper.
Image taken from minecraftforum.net. Original link here.
The Hopper- dimension hopper to be specific -traveled between worlds. I wasn't able to. I didn't know how. Well, that was until I captured him. I led the puppet- Steve, I think -to a small island in the middle of the ocean. Dimension Hoppers aren't fond of the water. I effortlessly made it night, and soon the Hopper teleported to him. I'd set a trap, as Steve's game imploded, or what you puppeteers call a "crash." The Hopper acted almost too quickly for my liking, but I grabbed his leathery ebone colored arm and was instantly teleported to the dimension.
The skies were as dark as the Hopper's skin, and the ground the opposite. It was porous and fragile- the lightest tap of my foot would send it decending to the void. That's when I discovered the secret to the dimensions. I carefully walked up to another Hopper. I reached up in lightning speed, and that was when I ripped the Hopper's eyes out. Its body tumbled to the ground when I crushed them, teleporting me away.
That's when I met him. Steve. I'd teleported back to the main world when he saw me. I cocked my head every so slightly, and in the reflection of his deep brown eyes- I saw myself. I was the spitting image of him. The same clothes, hair, shoes, skin, everything.
Except for the eyes. Oh, the eyes.
I remember now.
It's so clear.
Steve and I were the same. We'd hunted, mined, fished, farmed, even built together. We were. . . brothers. It was a regular day when we went mining. We would always find the same gems and ingots- iron, coal, redstone, gold and emeralds. When I saw it, the sparkle caught my eye. Across the flaming pool of magma was diamonds. I quickly tapped Steve. His head whirled around to see it. I grinned, and began forward, grasping spare rocks to drop in to make a path. I shoveled in gravel, cobblestone, dirt, everything I could find. That is, until, Steve pushed me in.
I couldn't feel a thing. I was taller than the depth of the lava, and I tried to get out, helplessly clawing at the stone. I saw Steve's shadow ahead, and to my horror, he pushed his foot down on my head, until I was fully emerged in the lava. I could feel pain now. I could hear sizzling in my ears as it slowly entered my eye sockets, turning my vision red with fire- and revenge.
Taken from tumblr.com. Original image here.
Steve closed the book and quill, writing the title clearly on the leather-bound cover. He walked down to the local village, and the crisp air felt good on his skin. It wasn't before long he could hear the happy mumbled of the villager's signature noise, "Hurr... Murr..." His footsteps crunched on the pathway as he walked up to the librarian's house. He entered and was met with the villager, Villager #1508393615. As he presented the book, the fresh ink upon the cover read, "Herobrine's Myth" Steve awaited patiently for the response as the librarian flipped through the papyrus pages. He finally looked up and said,
"That was a wonderful story, Steve!"
It's just a shame- such a shame! -he didn't know it wasn't a myth.
It stumbles around mindlessly, looking for nutrition- shallowly thinking it'd be in another creature. The green one especially liked the puppet. It reminded me much of the archer.
Now, for the archer, he'd ought to be my favorite haunter of all. He's not only the remains of a puppet, but he's also the only one whos come close to seeing me. I'd sit on top of trees, crouch in the darkest corner, even stood behind him, breathing every so delicately on his neck. I could hear that vibrant, echoing clack of bones from a mile away, even though it'd be less than an inch in front. He'd turn around and I gracefully teleported away- much like the Hopper.
Image taken from minecraftforum.net. Original link here.
The Hopper- dimension hopper to be specific -traveled between worlds. I wasn't able to. I didn't know how. Well, that was until I captured him. I led the puppet- Steve, I think -to a small island in the middle of the ocean. Dimension Hoppers aren't fond of the water. I effortlessly made it night, and soon the Hopper teleported to him. I'd set a trap, as Steve's game imploded, or what you puppeteers call a "crash." The Hopper acted almost too quickly for my liking, but I grabbed his leathery ebone colored arm and was instantly teleported to the dimension.
The skies were as dark as the Hopper's skin, and the ground the opposite. It was porous and fragile- the lightest tap of my foot would send it decending to the void. That's when I discovered the secret to the dimensions. I carefully walked up to another Hopper. I reached up in lightning speed, and that was when I ripped the Hopper's eyes out. Its body tumbled to the ground when I crushed them, teleporting me away.
That's when I met him. Steve. I'd teleported back to the main world when he saw me. I cocked my head every so slightly, and in the reflection of his deep brown eyes- I saw myself. I was the spitting image of him. The same clothes, hair, shoes, skin, everything.
Except for the eyes. Oh, the eyes.
I remember now.
It's so clear.
Steve and I were the same. We'd hunted, mined, fished, farmed, even built together. We were. . . brothers. It was a regular day when we went mining. We would always find the same gems and ingots- iron, coal, redstone, gold and emeralds. When I saw it, the sparkle caught my eye. Across the flaming pool of magma was diamonds. I quickly tapped Steve. His head whirled around to see it. I grinned, and began forward, grasping spare rocks to drop in to make a path. I shoveled in gravel, cobblestone, dirt, everything I could find. That is, until, Steve pushed me in.
I couldn't feel a thing. I was taller than the depth of the lava, and I tried to get out, helplessly clawing at the stone. I saw Steve's shadow ahead, and to my horror, he pushed his foot down on my head, until I was fully emerged in the lava. I could feel pain now. I could hear sizzling in my ears as it slowly entered my eye sockets, turning my vision red with fire- and revenge.
Taken from tumblr.com. Original image here.
Steve closed the book and quill, writing the title clearly on the leather-bound cover. He walked down to the local village, and the crisp air felt good on his skin. It wasn't before long he could hear the happy mumbled of the villager's signature noise, "Hurr... Murr..." His footsteps crunched on the pathway as he walked up to the librarian's house. He entered and was met with the villager, Villager #1508393615. As he presented the book, the fresh ink upon the cover read, "Herobrine's Myth" Steve awaited patiently for the response as the librarian flipped through the papyrus pages. He finally looked up and said,
"That was a wonderful story, Steve!"
It's just a shame- such a shame! -he didn't know it wasn't a myth.
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