Hi everyone, here's a story for you guys. I haven't publicly announced a lot about writing, but I do enjoy it, so here's just some random sadfic story I typed up in an hour or so. I hope you guys enjoy!



The chunky character wearing a clean blue shirt and ripped pants looked up cautiously. In the thick greenery and humid atmosphere, he could just barely see the blue sky, fresh and alive. He breathed it all in for a moment - the jungle, the plants, everything - and sighed.


This was real survival.

For a long time now, he had been living inside a actual game. He didn't know how, but one day, he was sucked inside the computer like one of those wacky, unbelivable movies. And he was playing the game Minecraft at the time, so there he was. Spawned in a forest. He learned to survive very quick, since he was a professional player. He knew what to do and didn't hesitate to act, but now, he was living inside a game forever. He could always restart, and he had never set the game to Hardcore mode.

He was invincible.

Nevertheless, it was still hard. He had tried to beat the game the first time, but that didn't work so well. It was harder as the person to actually experience the pain, but he learned more as he went along. Ocelots were his new best friends, or creeper hunters, that is. He had tactics and experience.

The individual was lonely, however. He could talk, but to whom? There were no other players. This was clearly a infinite singleplayer land. A vast, empty, and endless world that no man could stand. He was heartbroken to see beautiful structures that he could not share his joy fully without being able to express it to a partner, and became independent and arrogant later on.

The player glanced around him. The jungle was his most favorite biome, with towering vines and trees, buzzing atmosphere, and shade from the burning sun. He raised his blocky hand to his head and scratched it as he tried to figure out what to do. His pet ocelot merely stood behind him, sitting down in it's spot, staring at it's master.

He looked back. "What are you trying to say?" He whispered, bending down and staring into his ocelot's eyes. He could see nothing but digitally animated emerald eyes, lifeless. There were no sense of soul or hope in the cat's eyes, but he expected nothing anyways.

Getting back up, he once again surveyed all around him. Backing up against a hard tree wall, he picked up the ocelot and placed it next to him. After a while of hard thinking, he sat down against the tree and thought some more.

I will never become free.

The game character realised it the moment he stepped foot in Minecraft. He would never enter the real world again. He would never experience true life for as long as he lived in Minecraft.

He was trapped in his own world.

To some, it was a heaven.

To him, it was pure hell. Knowing every day he would have to fetch his own food and face the dangers of nighttime mobs terrified him. Knowing that his house could be damaged, or his items randomly tossed away, was a daily torture. He held onto the hopes of being released from his jail, resurrected from the hell.

But it all was a lie.

It wasn't true.

None of it was true.



Thanks for reading guys, if you have any questions or comments, feel free to shoot me a PM or comment down below. If you like it, diamond, subscribe, comment, and favorite if you can! Pieces.