Chapter Text
Tck-
Tch-
Tsshhhooosh-!
A plethora of shadows started to dance among the walls of the cave as the newly lit campfire illuminated the small space that surrounded him. He was the only shadow that stood out from the rest, deep and dark while the shadows of his many small bags and plates of armor that scattered around the floor didn't make much of a footprint compared to his own. He was alone, he has always been, and now he gave a slight smile in the courtesy of the flames rising from the small bunch of dry grass to finally spread onto his perfectly placed pile of sticks.
Starting the fire ended up easier than usual tonight.
Setting down his flint and steel, his fingers wrapped around a few dead rabbits that hung by their feet from one bag, his most recent victims to the many traps he kept in the woods nearby. It was time to skin them when he finally felt confident the flames would stay, starting to delicately slice around flesh and fur of the first with a small iron dagger he picked up earlier off of a human.
He was thankful that more than one of his traps were successful. It’s been a hot minute since he’s had a good meal, a long time with the shortage of food, and even in the middle of skinning the animal he couldn't help but drool a little. But he still had control and he had patience, unlike the other Enderfolk, and when he was done he held the meat over the fire by an iron bar.
Every morning like clockwork he returned back to this same spot, the same damp, dark cave that’s been called home for quite some time now. He knows he’ll soon need to move on and scour the land for the next spot to peacefully thrive in, away from the others that inhabit the same territory, but he couldn't bear to leave this place so soon. It was almost perfect, completely out of the way no creature nor human could stumble in unannounced. And even if one did, the loose gravel covering the floor was the perfect alarm system to catch any crook.
One footstep and his eyes would shoot open.
Thankfully he has only done this once, and it was only because a few bats were fighting over territory above him and they both fell hard to the ground. So one can say he was really counting his blessings, no run-ins with the undead nor the hissing freaks of the night, and best of all no humans had yet to disturb his humble abode.
His dark eyes dart down to the rabbits encased in flames, their raw skin has begun to darken and soon they would be a perfect, golden brown. Another smile pulled at his lips and his tongue pressed against the back of his fangs, his stomach growled in anticipation and his fingers gripped tighter at the rod he held. He would be rather ashamed at such a reaction over food, but it’s been too long since he’s had possession over some so this time he let his poor manners slide all while staring down at the delicious meat like a hungry cat and mouse.
“Finally…” He spoke above a whisper to no one in particular, he couldn't help himself at admiring his perfect cooking and soon the meat was brought up to his lips, sinking his teeth into it like one devours a kebab.
He might have cried that moment, even just a little while continuing to munch and keen at the happy feeling deep in his gut. The pain it used to have was finally gone after nearly four days going without food. He wouldn’t call himself the worst hunter, by god he was far from “bad”. The difficulty of finding food these days was all due to the ever growing numbers of undead in the area, he felt as if the corpses followed his every move to a new home. But he chopped it up to creatures so vile will always flock to thriving green pastures, dripping them dry of life to move onto the next, similar to a swarm of locusts destroying whole forests.
That was one thing humans shared with the undead, he’s been observing this for quite the handful of decades. The way they reep the land as if they were mindless barbarians, deforesting whole forests to nothing, gathering every animal for miles just to confine them in a small space, wearing pieces of creatures as if they were trophies…
Enderman skulls always hit too close to home-
Brushing his thoughts away he was quick to finish his meal, snuffing out the fire until it was dimly lit to provide enough heat for the night, and by now he got comfortable laying down on piles of furs.
Has it really been this long on my own...
He stared up at the ceiling hoping to get lost into it while his hands settled against his full stomach, he focused on every strand of fur brushing up against his spine all the way down to his thighs and the cold, bitter feeling of the rest of his legs against the damp stone floor. Wincing he curled up on his side, bringing his tattered cape over his body like a blanket, and with his back facing the gentle embers of the dying fire…
“My sweet, little Dream…” His mother whispered while holding him tightly to her chest all while multiple guardsmen rushed past them to hold the door. There was a loud crash every time the battering ram met the main doors to the throne room, shrieks rang out while the wood pieces flew and pierced the skin of many knights using their own bodies to keep the intruders at bay.
She made her way swiftly down a spiraling staircase at the sound of the doors giving way and the many shouts and cries of the brawl following after. Dream held onto his mother, tears in his eyes and soft sobs escaping as his tiny hands gripped tighter to her cloak.
“Shhh- shhhhhhhhhh… it’s ok, it’s ok…” She cooed, fully sprinting down the halls. They both can hear the sound of metal armor and feet rushing down the stairs, and the shouts of men sounding so foriegn… so frightening…
The sight of one finally meeting the last step made his heart drop, and the most petrifying scream he’s ever made escape through his lips.
His mother ran faster, darting around a corner and throwing the doors open to the outside world. A small group of heavily armored Piglins awaited them.
“Take him! And run! Get him out of the Nether!” She roughly threw Dream into the arms of one of the pigs. “Go! Now!”
“Momma-!“ He cried, watching her turn back to face the many armored men closing in from the hallway.
The leader of the squad of Piglin soldiers gripped him tightly, sprinting down to the lava docks to hop onto a Strider. Meanwhile the others were left behind to defend the Queen and to give them time to escape all while the royal Enderman toddler in his lap struggled to be free from his hold, wanting nothing less than to get back to his mother.
“M- mommy…” He weeped, his fists never making the Piglin flinch as he pounded against its chestplate, watching the fallen Palace disappear behind them…
He didn't move a muscle when his eyes shot open. It was completely dark within the cave system, the embers of the earlier fire were cooled down to nothing and his own heavy breathing echoed loudly down the slick walls of rock. He could feel his heart race and the cold sweat that formed around his neck as he sighed, closing his eyes to try to calm himself down.
It’s ok… it’s ok…
But it really wasn’t ok. His eyes snapped open a second time the moment gravel on the ground skidded, small pebbles clinking their way down towards him. His nightmare was the last of his worries while he listened to the many footsteps that followed and he held in his breath. They sounded like they were getting almost closer, every step misplaced and random as if the stranger was stumbling on its own two feet rather than walking in a straight line. He knew this sound all too well.
A zombie-
During this moment many thoughts crowded his mind at once. He was relieved it wasn't a creeper, but disappointed it wasn’t a human for it would've been an easy problem to fix, and out of all things it had to be a zombie. He had to be careful with this one. One bite and it would be all over…
He continued to stay still with his keen ear on his intruder, listening for any others that could’ve wandered in. But to his relief the only sound there was present was that of a single undead having lost its way from its horde. He slowly brought himself up, listening for any changes in footsteps before extending one hand out to his bow and quiver, and the other to his flint and steel. The zombie was still on its way to him, taking brief resprites with every short walking period, and by the sound of it the creature had yet to notice his presence. That was very good news.
Once he felt ready he sprang to his feet, quickly setting the arrow on fire, and shooting it down the spirling corridor of stalactites. The flaming arrow nearly missed the head of the creature, but with this new knowledge of its whereabouts he didn't miss his second time. The next flaming arrow meeting the zombie’s left eye.
It didn't have time to even register its attacker until the third arrow met in the middle of its forehead, bringing it down to slam against the gravel below. He drew a fourth arrow just in case, staring down at the flaming body and listening to any other dangers that could be lurking. The only sounds made after were the flapping of wings of bats and the skittering of a silverfish spooked by the zombie toppling onto the ground with a thud.
Once he felt safe enough he crouched down to sit on his heels, thinking what to do next. Sweat continued to form at the back of his neck and his pulse was still all so quick he felt like his heart was going to burst. All of a sudden he sprang up to the balls of feet to quickly pack everything away, strapping his armor on before rolling up the most furs he can carry. He knew this was bound to happen and feeling his comfortable home become unsafe was the worst feeling of all.
He had to get out, find somewhere nicer he always told himself, and after slipping his last armor piece over his face he grabbed for his bow and kept his sword sheathed at the hip. He held his bow and arrow at the ready while stepping around the burning corpse that lit his way, holding his breath at the putrid smell the thing was extruding. He quickened his pace up the cave to escape the stench all while gripping his bow tighter in case any more were to appear, his mind always went straight into paranoia during times like these. But hey, it’s kept him alive so far.
When he finally met the mouth of the cave he started to slow, his eyes wincing from the blinding morning light shining down against the bright greens of leaves and whites of birch trees that covered these hills for miles.
Ah, the zombie must've wandered in to avoid the sunlight.
He felt himself relax as he just stood there, his eyes exploring the landscape before taking a few steps out into the woods. He let himself circle around, looking every which way possible for danger before putting away his bow and quiver back on his bags. He had a lot of ground to cover and a lot of time to do so, even though daytime meant humans it also meant no monstrous obstacles in the way. And with that he began his journey to a place he’s been before, using it to act like a temporary home while he spends the next few weeks finding yet another hidey-hole…
George woke up earlier than the rest of his household today, tiptoeing around his cottage as he packed up the last of his needed supplies to hopefully soon head out to a place he found on an ancient map. He’s spent a good few years learning how to read and decode some of the unknown languages in old books and pieces of parchment he’s found in old chests, and at the stellar age of fifteen he finally felt brave enough to venture out from his familial home.
He left when the sun started to rise above the horizon, quickly speedwalking down the dirt road in the hopes of not being caught by nosey neighbors. A youngster leaving past the protective walls has always been forbidden in order to protect the living inside from the many different types of dangers out beyond. The law was in place way before George was ever born and to this day it was heavily enforced, but not when you know who’s the lazier guard on watch.
George wasn't all too scared of getting caught nor stumbling upon the creatures he’s heard many scary stories about for years and years on end, he’s read his fair share of books on what to do with every monster that lurked in the shadows. All their weaknesses, their strengths, even learning where to strike a killing blow. Plus George had something no one else in the village had; a beautifully handcrafted diamond dagger that’s been in his family for generations, it’s said that it came from the Great War hundreds of years ago and by the looks of it he can't argue with that. The thing has had its fair share of chips and blemishes, but it was still a weapon to be weary of. It was diamond after all.
When George took his first steps outside of the walls while the guard on watch was from what it looked like napping on the job, he rushed under the cover of the large birches and grand oaks that formed the forest just outside the gate, and once he was sure no one would see him he set his pack down and took out his map along with his father’s compass. He was only going to be sitting here for a short while, planning out his route to the entrance of a cave that will lead him all the way down to an abandoned mineshaft, and hopefully down there will be the answers he’s been looking for.
From what he read the series of caves used to be the old mining grounds of a fallen empire that took place in the war, mining the rich iron and the said diamonds that resided deep within the heart of the mountain. As much as diamonds sounded enticing, George wasn't in the search for obvious riches. He was more after the items they left behind. The many knick knacks that still littered the miner’s residential keeps to the many scrolls found in the commander’s office. The mountain used to be a mine, but it was converted into a military base before its abandonment and that was what George was after.
All of the secrets the mountain held within!
Just thinking about it right now made him jump in excitement with a smile plastered upon his stupid face. He happily pulled his heavy pack straps around his shoulders before adjusting his goggles from his forehead to over his eyes, and now he was ready. With his map and compass at hand he began to start his long journey, taking the safest route he spent a good time planning…
Dream made it to his destination before nightfall, right as the sun began to set over the treetops. He was happy with the results, usually it took him a lot longer to get here but that was during the night. Who knew during the day sped travel up tenfold?
He approached the main entrance, taking a sharp left to walk past it and into the wilderness up the mountain. He remembers stumbling upon a caved in entrance on his last visit, the crevasse in the ground being out of the way enough to be overlooked and new enough to be less known. Sliding down the fine pile of silt with his bow and arrow at hand he was finally in the mine. He stayed still for a moment in search of any sound of danger, but nothing answered back through the winding chasms of the mine. It was comfortably silent.
Once he was sure he was alone, he started walking down the pathway and deeper into darkness. He still had his bow at hand, but he felt more relaxed than he did on his trek here hours before. He knows the past of this mountain, knows this was a place of planning and evil during the Great War, but months ago he’s already purged this place of its undead. Making it hollow like it should be.
Despite hating this place the mine was heavily fortified, and he felt like its only purpose now is to be a plan B of sorts. Who knew this place was to become an Enderman’s domain? He felt a bit of pride there, as if stepping into this place to declare it his own was some sort of revenge for his kind. By now he got cocky, walking faster until he was running down the halls of rock and ore. His heart was pumping and his breath was jagged, but it wasn’t because of fear. It was something far different from it.
He smiled as he slid on the balls of his clawed feet against the grainey floor to stop himself from his run all before letting out a booming, hearty laugh. He’s missed the old feeling of triumph, he’s starting to remember everything he did last in this mine. How he took on many hordes of zombies, dozens of skeletons aiming to kill, swarms of cave spiders that almost had him. Yes it was indeed a stupid idea for him to take on the mountain completely alone, but coming out alive after never felt better. For once in his life he felt untouchable, like he wasn’t at risk every second of the day. Maybe he should give himself more credit?
But the heroic nostalgia was short lived.
The sound of something small falling echoed down the long passageways of rock, causing him to spring into action via instinct, aiming his bow into the darkness of where he expected the sound came from. Nothing more followed after, but as he narrowed his eyes down at the long passage he could see the faint glow of a match, or maybe a torch? It was too far to really tell, but from the color of the light he knew exactly what that meant.
Human.
George was still stuck in the mountain after finding the Commander’s office around an hour ago, it's just every turn he made that felt right somehow led him deeper, and now there was a sinking feeling at the pit of his stomach and deep rooted fear started to crawl up his spine. He held out a small torch in front of him, eyes darting from path to path before landing on a familiar box of old dynamite he’s seen at least five times by now…
With a loud huff George fell to his rump after dropping his bulky pack down next to him, tears formed at the corners of his eyes before he grabbed at his goggles to roughly rub at his face with his sleeve. He knew he couldn't give up just yet, but the feeling of hopelessness started to rear its ugly head.
With a loud frustrated groan he threw his goggles to the ground, ending up with one of the lenses shattering, and all he did was just stare at it with his lower lip quivering.
He started to softly sob which snowballed into a loud fuss, his body trembling while he continued to rub at his eyes as if that was the answer to stopping his tears. He spent a few moments like this before a startling sound from one of the passageways pried him away from his crying. Something deep within him felt that frozen feeling of being watched, the feeling a cold pair of eyes staring down at him.
Geoge sprung to his feet at the sound of something running towards him from the darkness. He had yet to see what it could be, but it was obviously nonhuman by the sound of its thudding feet meeting the ground with every long stride. He never thought he’d be in this situation, fight or flight still being decided all while his body was frozen like a sheep in headlights. The bitter feeling of knowing he’ll never be able to outrun it.
His eyes quickly darted at everything he could use, there was his trusty dagger but it wouldn't do much good to the large sounding creature. Such a weapon would be a meer toothpick to the beast. He was running out of time and his body started shaking, his eyes fell onto the dynamite. With a level head George wouldn't even risk getting anywhere near it, but at this moment he felt like it was his best chance at survival.
At the courtesy of the adrenaline pumping through his veins, George quickly grabbed at what looked to be the most stable stick of dynamite and started running in the opposite direction. He ran so fast he felt like his lungs were about to scream at him to stop and his ears were ringing but he could still hear whatever came after him. And at the sound of a fire arrow whizzing by his head, he instantly chucked the stick right behind him and threw himself behind the closest corner.
He landed on his front, the side of his face skidding against the gravel in pain as the explosion rocked the mine, his hands over the back of his head as he felt crumbling rock and dust start to land onto him. Whatever that was chasing him screamed the most terrifying screech George has ever heard, and just the sound alone triggered him to get up and keep running into darkness. He didn’t care where he was going, just as long as he got away from whatever emitted those bone chilling shrieks. He can’t even register what kind of creature could let out such a thing, but that was the last of his worries.
George kept running until he hit a wall hard, falling onto his knees he was pretty stunned by the impact. His head was spinning and his body felt like it was on fire, he leaned his forehead against the wall all while he felt his limbs start to give out. It was completely silent in the mine now, except for George’s heavy breathing, and as his eyes adjusted to the lack of light he was able to see possible sunlight at the end of a tunnel.
Of course out of everything that could happen, my life flashing before my eyes revealed the exitway.
If only I had my pack…
George sighed heavily, he couldn't leave all his supplies, his findings, his favorite goggles… his dagger…
His family is going to kill him if he doesn't bring back that dagger.
He felt himself breathe in and breathe out multiple times before stumbling up to his feet. He shakily took out the small box of matches from his side pocket, lighting one of them, and looking out into the darkness he came from…
