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The First Night - Part One

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XBigFatPotatoX avatar XBigFatPotatoX
Level 37 : Artisan Loremaster
98
Chapter one - Day

  "Ouch, Steve thought, "I really need to lay off the football." This must have been his second concussion this month.
  Steve got up with a pounding headache, ready to walk off the field and go see the school nurse, but he wasn't on the football field. "W-w-where am I?" This definitely wasn't Mayfield. He looked around, and everything he saw was made out of... blocks?
  "H-hello? Hello?!?" Steve started to panic, screaming until his throat was raw, and finally fell to the ground, crying.
  
After what seemed like hours, Steve finally stood up, now filled with rage.
  "Why did this happen to me?" he cried out. With all his anger, he ran at the nearest tree and started punching it with all his might. "Why? Why? Why??!?" But as he punched the tree, he noticed cracks starting to form.
  "What the-" The second he stopped punching the trunk, the cracks disappeared, and the tree looked as if nothing had happened.
  "I can destroy... trees? What?" He walked back ten yards, and ran at the tree as fast as his legs would carry him. When Steve reached the tree, he punched as hard as he could.
  "Ouch!!" A wave of pain throbbed through his hand. He looked back at the tree. Nothing had happened. "But... I punched the tree," Steve thought, "why didn't it break?"
  He paced around, trying to figure out why he didn't break the tree trunk. An idea quickly formed in his head.
  "What if I repeatedly punch the tree?" One punch, two punches, three punches - cracks were appearing! After about twenty punches, the log gave way, and Steve quickly rolled out of the way so he wouldn't get squashed by the tree. But when he looked back at the tree -
  "Of course it floats," He said in defeat, "why would it not..."

Chapter two - Sunset

  After staring at the tree in confusion for a few seconds, he noticed that the sun was setting. It was a strange sight to see a square sun. Then realization hit.
  "I need to make a fire," saying to no one in particular. "But how...? Aha! I need sticks!"
  So Steve wandered around looking for sticks, but to no avail.
  "Really? No sticks?" He called out, his voice echoing in the open air. "I must be able to get sticks somehow. I know I can." He thought to himself. "I can make them with my wood!! But how can I craft s-
  At the word craft, an interface popped up in his vision.
  "Aahh!" screamed Steve. He had never seen anything like this before! It was a bunch of boxes in a small grid-like pattern, with another four boxes near the top right corner. Suddenly, a strange feeling told him to put the log in the top corner.
  "Wood Planks? I don't even know what a plank is, but I'll take it," he thought to himself, "What else can I make?"
   Once again, he opened his crafting interface, and once again he got jump-scared. He put the planks in the crafting grid, and buttons came up.
  "Seriously? Buttons? I don't want buttons! I want something useful" Steve shouted in anger. "I want my log back!"
  So Steve put the four planks in the two-by-two crafting grid, but he couldn't get his log back. Another option showed up, a 'crafting table' to be precise.
  "Look world! I have a crafting table," shouted Steve in happiness, "But now what do I do with it?"
  He opened his crafting interface, but nothing changed.
  "This thing is worthless?? Really?" In a rage, Steve threw the crafting table at the ground, but instead of bouncing and rolling to a halt like it should have, it stuck to the ground instantly.
  "Wow, this dream just keeps getting weirder and weirder..."
  But was this a dream? Had he gotten into an accident? Was this what a coma was like? He didn't have time for these questions, because the sun was minutes away from setting, and he hadn't even started on his fire.
  "Wood," exclaimed Steve, "I need wood!" So he ran to the nearest tree and gathered every piece it had to offer.

Chapter three - night

  Steve ran back to the crafting table and made all the planks possible, and then started on all the combinations possible. Slabs, no; doors, no; sticks, n-yes! He needed sticks! So Steve tried every combination that could possibly make a fire: Sticks on top of planks, a plank surrounded by sticks, two planks on top of a stick.  
  "Wooden sword? That could be useful." As he finished saying this, he heard a moan behind him, and practically jumped out of his skin
  "What was that? Hello? Is anybody there?" Steve looked around in the darkness. He spotted something moving in the distance... people?
  "P-people?," Steve called out, "people!" As he approached the 'people', they all turned towards him, their rotting flesh hanging from their long dead bodies.Those definitely weren't people. He quickly realized this, and started backing away. But they followed him! Without paying attention, he backed into a corner. Steve looked around, but there way no way out. With a cliffside behind him and a horde of zombies in front of him, he was surely doomed. But strangely, a wave of confidence washed over him. There were only four zombies, and he had a sword.
  "Hey zombies! Yeah, I'm talking to you!" he called out, "bring it."

To be continued...

Thanks for reading! Also, this is a story I wrote for a story writing contest. If you want to enter check them out here
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