My entry for the contest. It was originally just going to be Steve's past before he entered the world, but I felt it didn't have proper closure unless I made a partial rendition of the game's events. I'll probably revise it before the closing date (Especially the beginning). I feel like some dialogue would benefit the whole too. Hope you enjoy.

Warning: I call it short, but my definition is kinda skewed.

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Prologue

Countless souls reach for dreams in their pursuit of inner peace; To indulge in illusion and fantasy is the most common form of escapism. While many are content to slip into a few fleeting moments of their mental utopia through games, movies, books, or imagination, some yearn for far more. For their dream to replace reality would be an unbelieveable wish for the masses, one that would satisfy mankind's inner selfishness and envy.



Such thoughts plagued the mine of Steve, a hardworking young man who didn't stick out among his city's population. He had tossed away a chance at a high school diploma and college when his father demanded he work for him in construction. His father taught him a sizeable chunk of what he knew of construction in hopes that Steve would one day takeover the family business in contracting. While it wasn't what he wanted to do in life, the effort and attention to detail in his work were astounding. Little gems of creativity would be constructed with the help of his wild imagination, one that his sister said they inherited from their late mother.



Everyone complimented him on his work, but he hid his reluctance and shame well; He’s rather his efforts be used on artwork. It would often be the topic of ridicule should it ever be brought up amongst his athletic group of friends, and he would never dare to admit to them he wanted to be an artist. But it was a dream he'd let slip slowly away. It didn’t seem like he had that chance with such a demanding father and friends who didn’t understand. He rarely ever saw his sister anymore either now that she’s moved into an apartment with her own friends, and she was the only one who truly understood.



It was the world that inspired his imagination and drove his inner desire to become a painter. The world was still a beautiful place, and one day he wanted to wander and see it with his own eyes, but he knew it was fading. Human expansion and disregard for the long term destruction angered Steve, and with the little profit he was making he wondered if he would ever leave the crowded skyline of his city and see the vast expanse of an exotic wilderness. As he stared down at the most recent nail he hammered into the support column, he reluctantly acknowledged for the fifth time that week that it won't be anytime soon. His imagination would have to suffice, as he dreamed of a world where he could explore to his heart's content.

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Chapter 1

It was supposed to be an ordinary day at the job site. The home owner in question, who lived on the suburban outskirts of the city, was paying his father a lot of extra money for a basement expansion. This profit would easily help his father expand the business, and he knew his greedy father would never say no to such a large sum of money. The owner had been uncertain if the basement could be expanded due to its age, but was quickly reassured that they would get everything worked out perfectly.



While Steve was clearing away some more of the old concrete wall that served as a foundation, he let his imagination wander once more to an undiscovered land. His father told him that he would be grabbing them lunch, and while Steve wasn’t a foundation specialist, his father encouraged him to break away at the offending wall so they could make faster gains. As careless as the thought was considering he had no experience in foundation work, he had agreed to the idea.



After a slightly careless swing, a nearby support beam creaked and Steve’s breath hitched in his throat. There was silence as dust fell onto his hard hat. The beam held firm. He let out a sigh of relief as a tiny piece of the wall fell onto the basement floor, and a bright column of light  illuminated his face. Squinting as he turned towards the newly uncovered spot, his eyes slowly widened as he stared at a dark green orb emanating light. As the light faded, Steve reached out and tried to pull it out of the wall, but it refused to give an inch. Picking up the pick once more, Steve swung repeatedly at the wall that held it firm. After minutes of hard swings, the orb finally looked like it could be plucked. Picking it up, he tried to identify it when multiple things happened at once that overloaded his senses.



The support beam began groaning loudly. The green orb lit up and revealed a serpentine eye that glared at Steve. He let the orb fall to the ground, where it enveloped him in a cloud of purple sparks. A loud screech deafened Steve. The basement section where he was working collapsed.

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Chapter 2

When the noise died and his vision returned, Steve found himself with his back against a world he didn’t recognize. The old, moldy basement ceiling was replaced with a blue sky he only knew from documentaries on television. Quickly sitting up he took note of his surroundings and noted the flowers all around him that were basked in the golden glow of a rising sun. There were trees as far as his eyes could see and mountains that touched the sky. Animals of different kinds wandered amongst the foliage, happily grazing. It was serenity like he never knew and a far cry from the hustle and bustle of the steel structures he called home. He figured that orb had something to do with this, but it lay shattered at his feet.





His curiosity burning like the heat of a desert sun, Steve picked up his pick and began to wander. He noted the strange proximity of different climates and terrain; In all the shows he’s watched as a child, he had yet to recall a desert existing next to a snow covered wilderness of ice spikes. In all his wandering, while he did get hungry and thirsty, he also noted that there wasn’t a single human in sight. While it unnerved him at first, he slowly realized how similar this place was to what he always pictured in his imagination. As he realized his predicament, uncertainty and excitement overwhelmed him.






It was close to midday when he had found what resembled a village. Upon entering he had noted that the inhabitants he found looked human, but did not act like them. No matter how much he tried to talk to them, they would only make noises but offer trade. He also noted they didn’t mind when he raided their farms for food. His thoughts of loneliness disappeared and realized he is now living in a utopia; He can do whatever he wants and will not earn the ire or disrespect of the villagers, and he’s surrounded by an untamed world ready for exploration. Staring across the lake near the village, he happily began planning what spot would be best to put his construction skills to use to build a home. This was going to be the first great day among many. for Steve.



And then night fell.

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Chapter 3

It had been weeks since Steve arrived on this world he called “Lagota”. He had survived his first horrifying night with a few bad scraped, but a miraculous discovery that he regenerated at an exponential rate in exchange for a voracious appetite. Upon connecting the sharp end of his pickaxe to an undead assailant’s head, he also discovered he was pretty decent at defending himself. Through improvisation and imagination, he had created weapons and armor, built a house and was now happily watching over his little village. His confidence boomed, and he was more than happy with his current predicament.




His needs were now few and far between. He had obtained relatively everything he needed, but still had yet to properly tame a horse so he can explore farther reaches. He had discovered enchantments after one of his villagers randomly traded him a magical book, and he happily indulged himself in the arcane arts in his spare time. He had a secure mine and plenty of defensive spots should he decide to roam at night. Smiling to himself as he snacked on a piece of cake while lounging on his hand made chair, Steve happily acknowledged that his new life was falling into normalcy. He looked over at a small easel he had built in the corner of his living room; He was going to do his first painting this afternoon. He yawned and realized he should've gotten a bit more sleep instead of installing that new colorful cieling for his bedroom.



Gazing towards the window his fatigue slipped and smile faded into a frown as he let out a sigh; There was a creeper staring at him through the window. Apparently he was going to do his first painting indoors since he had no current intention of battling the green menace. That was when inspiration struck.

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Chapter 4

He had been happy. It had been months since his first painting of a creeper in a window and Steve found himself walking the fine line between discontent and depression. It was a few weeks after his first painting that he died for the first time, only to wake up in his bed upstairs, staring at his artistic wood ceiling. Sitting up he recognized the painting he made when he stumbled upon a wildfire consuming a jungle, along with his weapon and armor chests by the windows. While the pain was real when the skeleton struck him through the neck with a well placed arrow, so was his current, painless condition as he stood in the middle of his room. He had smiled that day knowing he was invincible, but now there was nothing to generate a smile.



He had painted to his hearts content and wandered farther without fear, but there was no one to share the experiences. None of the villagers cared when their ‘friends’ were killed by rampaging zombies, and they certainly didn’t bat an eyelash when Steve shared his paintings with them. All they would ask for is a trade, with the same emotionless face they always had. The Iron Golems Steve had conjured with arcane might and construction were much the same, only caring about defending the village. Even this beautiful world that greeted him with every sunrise could never replace that social interaction he needed.



It had begun to drive Steve mad that there would never be proper human interaction, the ones he thought he wanted purged from his life forever.  But now he yearned for it more than anything in the world, even if it would be the insults of his friends or the strict, uncaring hand of his father. He wanted to talk to his sister again or even have a random conversation with a stranger while waiting for the subway. Even so much as a subtle smile or a look of fear, even a word or two that wasn’t a blank gesture or a soulless gaze.



So with his sanity crumbling, he marched into the town with a sword and struck down one of the villagers while it held its annual staring contest. Another saw, and he looked towards it with crazed eyes, demanding it do or say something. But it never wavered as it grunted and approached, holding its gaze. It never so much as made another sound as an iron golem came up to Steve and flipped him into a tree. He woke up once more in his bed, staring at that colorful, wooden ceiling.

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Chapter 5

It was weeks after his snap that his emotions became dull and flat. He realized he was becoming more and more like the villagers he lived with, but did nothing to slow his degradation. But one of the villager’s trades shifted that day, and he traded for a written book that held instructions for him. Grasping the book as he read, memories of playing football with his friends, breaking speed limits on the way to the rock concert, and the happy faces of clients from work flooded his mind. The book offered him a chance to gain it all back again and return to his real home. Sounding too good to be true, Steve didn’t care as he grasped at the chance without doubt.  It warned him of the dangers he would encounter, but he cared not; He would return home no matter what.






And so his journey had begun. With the thoughts of the apologies he would have to make to those close to him when he returned, he ventured into the hellish nether once more not for glowstone, but the broken bodies of flame-born fiends. Once acquired, he searched the caves and night covered landscapes for the calm but gigantic beings of darkness. The battles were tough, but with his trophies he crafted the orbs with arcane skill. Each one opened its serpentine eye and made Steve remember the day one of these things transported him to this world. While he admittedly wanted to break one, he knew that these precious artifacts would all be needed in tandem to send him home, or so the book declared. Packing everything he needed for one last journey, he bade farewell to his villagers who stared back silently in response.



Tossing one repeatedly into the air, it led him to the fortress, where he battled swarms of slithering demons as he tore his way through to the central chamber. There, with a ringed portal over lava, Steve performed the ritual and observed as the eyes placed themselves into their respective slots and the first gateway opened, just as the book stated. Steeling himself for the battle to come, Steve grabbed his bow and jumped into the painted portal.

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Epilogue

The battle against the dragon would be his final challenge. With more dark beings hounding after him, he skillfully struck at the orbs that granted the dragon regeneration while dodging his swooping strikes. Images of home flashed continuously through his head as it drove him harder than the bowstring shot its enchanted arrows through the air. Shot after shot, hit after hit, the dragon slowly lost its health. There were many times during the fight Steve almost died himself, but he pushed forward knowing of his invincibility in this world. There would be nothing stopping him from going home and making things right.




The dragon made for one final dive at Steve, and he drove one final arrow through its skull. Howling in agony, the dragon rose into the sky, shining brighter than anything else on that dimensional plain before exploding in a rain of sparks. Beneath his aerial grave, the portal made of the hardest material formed from thin air, and Steve dropped his bow as his fingers slowly uncurled. The first smile in a long time graced his face as he slowly stepped up to the edge of the portal. He looked up at the lone dragon egg on the central pillar and smiled wider; that book was right about everything, and he was finally going home. Taking off his damaged iron helmet, he tossed it to the ground behind him as he jumped into the portal.

Several things happened at once. Steve opened his eyes. His heart sank. His smile vanished. He found himself once more in his bed, staring at that colorful, wooden ceiling. A lone, anguished cry echoed over the lake that day.

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The End

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Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed it as much as I liked writing it. If you feel like it ,let me know what you think and if you catch any stray errors I may have missed (i'm hardly perfect). Constructive Criticism is always appreciated, especially if given in a respectful tone.

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