It was the day. The day Steve had regretted his entire life- what he was made for, what he was bred for, what he was supposed to do. There was his mother, banging her face against the thick, high security glass wall as she oozed a petrifying mix of fresh irony blood, saliva, and foamy bubbles from her mouth. It was getting all over her hands and shirt and, just, ew. She was insane now, he reminded himself, she was like an animal now. No, she wasn't just like an animal anymore, she WAS an animal. She was a zombie. Or, well, something alike one, anyway. Like the ones in the movies. A mixture of human and zombie. A mixture that was slowly becoming more and more savage and less mom-like. He doubted she could tell it was him. She was under the control of the zombie virus now. Everyone who was left was calling them "Necros" or just zombies.

Steve hated it. He hated every inch of it- every bit of it. He was made specifically to have a hard heart, to be immune to this. Well, actually, that was just the medication he was on. Make him more instable, which would make this test much more successful. He had been stuck in a lab since he was 14, and he was taken here because of his strange immunity to the zombie and slime viruses that were plaguing Planet Minecraft. The lab was called Mojang Java SE Platform Labs. Mostly, the scientists called it MJSE to shorten it. But you know what? He hadn't know his parents had raised him the way they did purposely. They betrayed him and his trust. They said he was immune to both of them..

There were threats emerging on Planet Minecraft quicker than anything they had ever seen. The zombie virus, and the slime virus. Cows were growing mushrooms on their backs, although it seemed to be of benefit more than of harm according to MJSE news. There were strange black figures that sometimes stole things and disappeared. Rumors were that anyone who looked into their eyes were taken to a magical place and never seen again. Rumors said they were tall, 6 blocks high, with pink mist coming off of them as well as pink eyes, and that the talked in a spine-chillingly low voice. But was Steve supposed to believe those stupid tall-tales? They were coming from ingrates. Probably for kids anyway. They called the strange black figures 'Endermen'. They said Endermen were attracted by high amounts of peace, but also of fear or hatred. That some of them would protect children, but the strange beings would haunt adults to the brink of insanity.

He braced himself. He had to keep reminding himself that he was trained up the max- generation seventy five- specifically for this moment. He watched Elliot- his mother- continue to fling herself dumbly. Steve then backed up, up, up.. and then smashed the thick glass. He was superhuman, he was powerful! Nothing could stop him! The zombie-mother seemed to get confused and saddened for a moment, as if his mother was trying to climb back into control, but it suddenly snapped back into action. A voice rang in his head. Harden your heart, Steve. He spun around before kicking her in the face, apparently it being very effective. Then, Steve tripped her and smashed her back with one boot. "I'm so sorry.." He whispered, obviously slightly hurt. But he didn't have normal emotions. He wasn't even supposed to have any. It wasn't that hard.

"I'm finished," he mumbled, "now get me out of here.." He seemed tense, angered, on the verge of tears. And then changed back into seeming bored and tired. But there was no response. There was shrieking over the intercom speaker before it devolved into moans and groans and sobs... was this it? Was his last hope infected?

He rammed into the wall, shards of the high-tech glass flinging around and clattering to the floor as he did. It hurt, it hurt a lot, but as much as it did, he wanted to get out more, and his need to get out overcame his want to pick the glass out of his shoulder. He felt like a trapped lab rat in here now, usually he did, but this time it was an unbearable amount. Gurgling and moaning was both heard- signs of the zombie AND slime virus. So were they both that way? Had the last of the Minecraftians' hopes been decimated simply by two viruses alike that of video game and movie horror? He charged again, finally breaking the glass wall that seperated him and his parent. Then, he proceeded to run down the dimly illuminated hallway before diving to the left to avoid getting bit by a mad zombie scientist. Steve didn't know who it was-- he couldn't tell, as their face was missing. Creepy. He smashed the emergency weapon case on the wall, grabbing the enchanted sword from inside.

As he grabbed it, energy, and something mystical, surged through his veins. Adrenaline rushed into his bloodstream and he stabbed the zombie scientist straight in the stomach, it looking down dumbfound, trying to collect the blood as it collapsed. So stupid, he thought. There was a small horde blocking the end of the hallway that would lead to the main room, however, and so he had to get rid of them. Swiftly, he ran forward, kicking and sliding this way and that, throwing punches and all of the such before finally falling. He felt suddenly so numb-- without feeling all over.

Was this it? Was this what it was like? Had his immunity not been true after all? It looked like the zombie scientists' faces were changing, getting normal.. or was it him? He felt so tired now, and finally dropped his weapon, drooping into their open arms. There was some whispering, something reminiscient of an "I'm sorry," and that was really all he could make out before he slowly drifted unconscious. 

He was in Hell. Or was he? It looked like it. There were scientists coming from all sides. They were acting like zombies-- no, wait, now there were Endermen? They seemed to have changed, and they were all closing in on him. He was thrown into lava.

Now he woke up in the snow, but didn't feel the least bit chilly. Sitting upright, he dusted settling snow off of his lap. There was a cow nearby, but it seemed frozen. Walking over to it, he noticed everything else was also frozen. Then it all changed again.

Finally, Steve was stuck in a forest. There was moving life as far as he could see. He began to attempt to move, only to realize the grass was like quicksand. Except it was faster. It pulled him under, down, down...

Down..
Down..

And then he jolted upwards, snapping back into reality. It was all a dream. It was all a dream. It was all a dream.. right? Was he still dreaming? He yawned, trying to pinch himself. He could feel it very well. Okay, so maybe it wasn't a dream. He sluggishly pulled himself onto two feet, dusting his shirt off. Nothing was around. It looked like he was lost in a thick, thick forest. There were footsteps around, and he thought he saw something black in the distance. Best to stay away, he thought, this is just like a horror movie or something. 

Steve moved in the opposite direction, running his fingers along the edge of a stone block. He made his way into a cave system, tediously slow. Just then, he heard groaning, much alike that of a zombie, and bolted out as fast as he had zipped in. It was then that he realized that he was not in a cave, but a long abandoned shelter. How long could a few minutes of a dream have been? Everything seemed deserted. Abandoned. And the laboratory he had been stuck on for a long time was completely gone.

And that's when an Enderman appeared right before him. Infront of him. It shoved him to the side viciously, then grabbed something else. He hadn't known there was a zombie behind him, and so mutely stumbled and fell backwards on his behind. He stare wide-eyed as the two mobs duked it out. It was not long until the zombie finally fell over and glitter rose into the air, which signaled it to be dead. The Enderman then looked at him, curiously more than anything. Fearful of the unknown, he backed against a wall of dirt. As he moved backwards, it did not avert its gaze. Voice trembling and rather scared, unlike what most of the time he was not, he asked, "Wh-wh-wh-what d-do you.. y-you w-want..?" He began to shake, the effects of the instability medication given to him as a test beginning to wear off.

The Enderman just stared and stared, and they both met gazes as it got closer. It was tall- much taller than Steve, and it had green eyes. All of the rumors had stated that Endermen had pink eyes, so this was contrasting what he thought he knew. It replied to him, its voice sounding inhuman, mysterious, deep and yet very shallow and gentle, "You can't survive on your own." It had no mouth, and it was as if the voice was in his head. "O-Oh.." He replied out loud, still suspicious and afraid. It only once changed from staring at him to stare at his multiple scars and slim, malnourished body. The voice- or was it the Enderman- informed him of something he already knew, "You are hungry."

"I know I am," he replied, voice no longer shaky, "but why does it matter to you?" The Enderman, which he now nicknamed Malevolent, seemed to be reading his mind almost before it replied, "You are the last of your kind. I am the last free of my kind. You do not know how to survive alone. You will need assistance." Now he was certain it was in his head, and had confirmed exactly how it sounded: Dark, two voices that were both high and low replying at once, with an undertone that sounded like a whisper. "I- What happened to the others..? How long has it b-been?" Steve tapped his fingers together, looking up at Malevolent with the eyes of a child asking a parent why the sky was blue. Because they genuinely couldn't stand not knowing, they had to know.

Malevolent informed him about how he had been knocked out and that Malevolent had been watching over him for a while. He had waken up much later, and Malevolent had thought he was dead. When, however, it settled upon answering where the rest of his kind was, the enderman gestured to the zombie it had killed. "Infected." The words rang in his head, over and over. It looked like they both had a bumpy road ahead, and they would be surfing it together.

"Will you allow me to teach you of the forest and of all the different inhabitants? Will you live on with me?" Malevolent questioned, close enough to Steve for uncomfort to rise. He was shrouded in a pink mist and couldn't see outside of it.

He had to make up his mind.

This was it, the decision that decided his fate. The fate of his life, whether he would live or not..

"I will."