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A Blank Canvas

• • 1/12/15 4:34 pm • 2 logs
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-killamocingbird
Lvl 37 • Artisan Architect
51

A Blank Canvas By Killamocingbird (Regularly Updating With New Entrees/Chapters)

"Minecraft is a blank canvas. We shape the world with our raw personalities. A lonely infinite canvas." - Steve
Creative Mode and cheats although good, destroy the raw experience of minecraft. This is a story of a player. A player who lives in the essence of himself. This player was founded into a dynamic world. He is cold. He is lost.
Music To Listen To While Reading (Optional)



First Entree:

Filtered light reflexes off my untrimmed nails, illuminating my detriment. The saturating sounds of sheep echo into my ears. Warmth chills down my back as I stand up. I feel sad, as if something ended to create a new beginning. What is left of me is nothing but my sorrow. My empty dry emotions can't be traced to anything. I glance around at the plethora of trees, the wind replies through the leaves in an empathetic nature. Sounds of strange music echo into the world, as if I am being watched, being loved, and being tested. I make a slow turn to observe my surroundings, focusing on every particle, every reflection, every movement. My eyes are caught onto a strange dancing girl. The girl danced with fiery upon a stick. Hey movements horrific as if she is trying to escape. Particles of ash and terror rise into the air. I slowly creep over, with the sound of my beating heart filling my ears. I slowly pick up the infinite burning torch, observing the dancing girl. She was a flame, echoing to the movements of the wind. A strange rugged mossy box lie in between four of these torches. It’s sides have grown into the ground, as if it’s connected to the trees. I cautiously open the box, and the trees reply through the wind. I pick up an axe of unknown material. As I tightly gripped onto the axe, I felt calm, warm, as if the trees were willing to make a sacrifice. And the music starts again. The creator seems happy, it seems relieved, it seems, alive.

Second Entree;

Rhythm dances into my throbbing muscles as chips of wood fly into the atmosphere. I am as dry as the dead wood lying beside me, empty, distracting myself with the wound of dying trees. The leaves that filtered the rays of sunlight are no more, painful rays of ultraviolet burn deeply into my flesh. The wind kept growing stronger, the music was replaced by subtle growing, but I was unaware of my surroundings, tears streamed down my face as the blister’s in my hands grow. Trees fell with a terrifying cry. I am left sitting, sitting in twilight, a broken axe in my hand.


Third Entree; Blood and smears dominate the page. The worlds are impossible to read. Although a couple of words are able to picked out.

Bones, Pain, Fear, Death.

Fourth Entree;

I awake with dirt crusted on my lips, a beacon of light passed through the gravel, illuminating my body, filling it with warmth. I just lie there, with the stone beneath me stained with blood, and my rugged pile of smooth rocks as my pillow stained with vomit. I can smell my failure as well as I can pity myself. Images of terror and the undead flash into my mind, images of arrows and sweat, images of explosions and fear. I still lie there, in a shallow semi exposed cave. The music starts to enter the world, as the sun gets deeper into the sky. The sweet sounds of the world softly vibrates the walls of the cave. I lie there, a smile on my face. I shift my vision to rest upon a table of tools. As I shift my position in the first time in 8 hours, my joints untighten and let in the ferocity of the world. I weakly stand up observing once again, my surrounds. I closely examine the arrows jammed into the innocent stone walls, laced with blood. I approach the wobbly table in awe, as if recipes of tools and contraptions have been embedded into my mind. I slowly peer into the beam of light, starring with sympathy. I feel reassurance as I confidently push aside the gravel, and unassigned it’s position as the barrier between the cave and the world. The odious smell drifts out and is replaced with a loving scent of flowers, of passion, and of love.

Fifth Entree;

The progression of terror in this strange world seems to synchronize with the progress I make. I feel pride yet my sorrow strikes again, as I stare upon the empty vast land in which use to be filled with trees. The sheep in which use to live in the forest before, now live in the shadows of a mountain. Large groups of animals wander into the vast new land, just to find it inhabitable and leave. What am I left with? A house, a house I built with my hands, and house I fought for, a house I almost died for. But the creator wasn’t proud, the creator wasn’t happy. The creator seemed, isolated.

Sixth Entree;

I have finished my house, it’s not wonderful, but it suites my needs. Things are dying, I can feel it, things are leaving. The darkness has started to creep in, step by step, undermining me. There are knocks on the doors in the middle of the night, sounds of screams fill my head. There is something in my house. It’s tall, black, empty, a mass void that is here to take me. My vision and auditory senses start to fade. I am nothing. The particles of another world leak into the world, purple souls scream as it approaches me. I quickly grab my swo…

Seventh Entree;

My hardened quick breath overlaps the echoing screams from above. Exhale, inhale, exhale, I have been burning the same phrase in my mind for over an hour. I sat silently terrified in a hole about 3 feet under the ground. My hands are grasping onto the uneven dirt beneath me for reassurance that I am alive. The blood slowly dripping from my head feels like quickened sweat on a hot day. Exhale, inhale, exhale, I slowly rock back and forth while corrupted images of darkness flash into my vision. It was above me. As I write this I am no longer terrified, I am no longer myself, I am happy. I am ready to give up. I am relaxed. Digging sounds echo from above, as a smile fills my face. I remember the dancing girl trying to escape from the handle of a torch, not realizing that the wood she is burning is the very source of life she has. I saw light starting to filter through the gravel in the dirt. I am not scared, I am ready. The dirt above me is now gone, blinding light flows in that forces my eyelids shut. As it touched me, I felt, calm, loved, and admired. It was the creator.

2 Update Logs

Update #2 : by -killamocingbird 01/12/2015 4:34:16 pmJanuary 12, 2015 @ 9:34 pm UTC

So much suspence!!! Added 6th and 7th entree, Enjoy!!!
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