*WE, AT MOJANG DETECTIVE AGENCY, HAVE MADE THIS TAPE TO TELL THE TRUE BEGINNING OF THE LEGEND, HEROBRINE."*

*RECORDING TAPE STARTS*

I set the roses atop the stone gravemarker I had made for my brother. The rose fell into place on the gravel, sliding perfectly in as if it was meant to be there. I loved my brother and we practically twins; though he was a tad older than me. We both had deep, brown hair, and broad shoulders. We were so similar we even wore the same clothes; blue jeans with a green t-shirt slightly tucked in at the side. I knew would pass, but not so quickly. You see, my brother had a rare disease which no one could name, not even Dr. Martho who had a cure for all ailments. My brother had the brightest, white eyes anyone could lay their own eyes upon. It truly was a spectacular, yet terrifying sight. For the most part, he stayed in his room, crafting tiny trinkets and gadgets to play with in his own spare time. I, on the other hand, was out working, gathering supplies to keep the house in tip top shape and ready for any attack that might happen. Each day I walk into his room and look at his little toys, thinking of how neglected he was; how bad of a brother I truly was. I grabbed the green figure from atop his shelf and cradled it in the palm of my pale hand. He had told me once it was a mixture of a pig and some sort of hell monster he created. He told me once it was our God's (Notch) creation and that one day they would take over; blowing everything up beyond repair. I sighed and sat the "Creeper" back on the wooden shelf and began placing fire wood into the furnace. I wasn't a very good miner, so coal wasn't an option. As I was placing the wood in the dimly lit furnace, I started to think of how he died, Oh how it pained me. I remembered walking his room; seeing him hang from the ceiling by a lead he had bought from the near village of Castodia. A parcel was placed next to the toppled chair that sat near to below him.

"Brother, I know you will go through great grief upon finding me this way, but, I can't handle it anymore. These eyes are killing me. You know those figures I use to craft,? Well, you're going to think I'm, or were, crazy for saying this but I have.... visions.. of the future. its bright, quick flashes but they are pure and I just know they will happen. Anyway, as I won't get to see it, you will. These spectacular creatures, whom I have named for you, will come alive. They will torture villages, wreak havoc, and over all make hell on Earth. Beautiful, isn't it? Gah! They are getting worse. The visions get more and more painful. I can't stand these eyes anymore! I have to end it. It has to go away! It has to!"
-Your beloved brother,
Herobrine
That's when I look up at his eyes, which were no more. The sockets; an empty black hole of death. His eyes were nowhere to be found. I wake from my daydreams and I'm still mindlessly placing firewood in the crackling furnace. The wind is picking up outside. I hear the gravel on my brother's grave crack and pop as the pebbles are moved about by the wind. I look outside. Almost night. Better get myself ready. They come out tonight. My brother's figures. It's sounds inconceivable but it's true. All to true. I jog over to the armor stand and put on my iron forged gear and sword. Not by me, of course, but by the famous weaponsmith and gearsmith in all of Castodia, Gerald Hernandez.

Night approaches and I sharpen my sword as best as my skill takes me, the steel running along the iron blade in a perfect song of death. I walk outside to prepare the defenses: Lava, check. Iron fencing, check. Arrow dispensers, check. All set! I peer over at my brothers grave next to the window. The gravel...is gone. I look in the pit that held my brother and nothing is left... but his eyes. I keel over and hurl next to the head stone.

"Ugh! Those forsaken grave robbers! Absolutely disgusting, filthy rats!" I slam my leather-bound fist into the dirt and start to sob into the hole. Grave robbers, whom, again, are absolutely disgusting, raid graves for loose change or jewelry left on the dead. But, why would they leave his eyes? I begin to hear human-like footsteps behind me, inching closer by the millisecond. I tense, terrified to move but frightened to stay. I feel the presence bend to be ear to ear with me.

"Steve..." I heard the presence begin to say.

"No!" I swung my sword around me but felt no pressure. I craned my head back and saw... nothing. Absolutely nothing was there. I began to cry harder this time. I had recognized the voice. My mind didn't want to but it did. No grave robbers had done this to my poor brother. He did this... to himself. I backed into my house, shut the door and saw the creatures start to crawl from the dry ground. Their moans and cackles filled the air with an awful sound. I had prepared for the day when his brother had come back. I never thought he would, at least not until i was in my golden years. I ran over to the ender chest, which was emitting the eerie purple glow it always had. I grabbed the cracked and deformed disc with a black center. I went over to the jukebox and it started to play...

It began to play the awful recording of a man running through a cave, with only a burning, crackling torch in his hand, The footsteps behind him got louder and he began to draw quick, deep breaths. This time, the disc cut short. the usual stopping of a disc happened and Steve was about to remove the disc to dust it off when it started playing something completely different.

"Roses, roses
You place on my grave
Roses, roses
their petals fly away
Roses, roses
lost in the sands of time
Roses, rose
Lost just like you
Roses, roses
Will you ever love me?"

The disc stopped once more, this time for good. I tried to play it again. The voice sounded like my brother, only more static-like. When it wouldn't let me play it again, I started to cry again

"I love you so much, brother. I'm so...so sorry..." *THE REST OF THE JOURNAL IS ODDLY TORN OFF. BUT, THIS NOTE WAS FOUND NEXT TO STEVE'S BODY WHOM WAS FOUND LAYING SPRAWLED ON THE FLOOR WITH A ROSE ON HIS CHEST.*

ROSES
ROSES

Journal Entry from Smith Gerald:

It's been a quiet time in Castodia after hearing of the death brought upon by Steve. The town was already torn up about Herobrine. This just made it worse. The town was quiet for months. Which is why I haven't written in a while. I've been mourning the same as the other town folk. Eerie clouds and swaying trees hang over us all the day. Will we ever get peace? Will we ever find out how Steve die- *PAGE IS TORN. WHEN INTERROGATED, GERALD BURST OUT LAUGHING, HIS EYES TURNING WHITE AS HE CHOKED BLOOD AND FELL THE FLOOR, DYING IN SECONDS. THIS NOTE WAS FOUND IN HIS POCKET:*

ROSES
ROSES
ROSES ARE DECEIVING
MUCH LIKE LIFE
ROSES HAVE THEIR THORNS
MUCH LIKE LIFE
IF YOU PRICK YOUR FINGER ON IT'S THORN YOU WILL BLEED
MUCH LIKE I DID, WHEN I GAVE MY EYES TO FEEL BETTER


*RECORDING TAPE STOPS*