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Grian was usually prepared.
Like when one goes mining, they bring enough wood to craft, and enough food to keep yourself alive underground. But since he was only popping down here for a few minutes, Grian, foolish foolish Grian, brought the bare minimum; a handful of bread, a little water and a couple of planks along with his diamond pickaxe.
What he didn't account for was getting jumped by three creepers, being distracted by a gaggle of zombies, dropping his pickaxe in his panic, and the rock around him collapsing down on him as the creepers exploded.
Pitch black darkness surrounded Grian. No matter how much he strained his eyes, they didn't adjust to the dark. He was lucky he was so short, any taller and he would have gotten concussion by the ceiling collapsing down above him. In feeling around the small space he was stuck in, he managed to find a handful of rotten flesh from the zombies, but no pickaxe. Grian swore under his breath as he triple checked his pocket of darkness. No pickaxe, it must be under the rubble or even beyond it. The stench of rotten flesh and singed hair filled the air. Eugh.
Grian was lucky that he’d still been in full armour when he came down here, otherwise, he’d be dead. He wasn’t unscathed though. Being at 2 hearts, the hermit was worse for wear, his ears still ringing from the explosions. He considered eating all the rotten flesh to get his hearts up, he’d finished his bread long before the creepers attacked, but held off. Best wait till he needed to eat, he didn’t think anything would harm him in such a compact space.
He turned his communicator on, hoping he’d be able to get one of his friends to dig him out, only to find it had no signal and was low on power. Ah. Did anyone know where he was? He didn’t have anything planned today, and this was meant to be a quick trip so he didn’t tell anybody… oh god he was going to be stuck down here a while, wasn’t he? How long would it take for people to notice he was missing? Would they even miss him? Or would they get caught up in server shenanigans until it was too late for Gri? He didn’t want to linger on those thoughts.
Yet there wasn’t much to linger on. He was trapped here with his own thoughts. Breaking through the rubble with his fists would be a waste of energy, if he was going to survive, he needed to conserve all the energy he had.
Grian tried to retain his sanity down here how he could. He scratched at his arms, he spoke to himself, anything to keep his senses about him. His eyes had already begun seeing patterns in the darkness where there were none. He had no way of knowing how long was passing, and he could barely tell what was passing out and what was exhaustion.
Grian got through the rotten flesh quickly. It was revolting to eat, Gri was gagging from every bite, but it was better than nothing. His water he managed better. He didn’t have a lot of it, but he spaced out drinking. He didn’t want to die of dehydration.
No one was coming for him.
He was going to die here.
Grian had lost his glimmer of hope with the last of his water. He barely moved now, hardly having the energy. He wasn’t sure the last time he was able to slip into unconsciousness. His limbs were cold and heavy. Moving was a waste of energy anyway. He wasn’t trying to conserve energy now, it’s just that he couldn’t do anything anymore, he was just waiting for the hunger to fully set in and tick his hearts to zero.
He was used to hearing things in his state of delirious exhaustion, so when Grian started hearing voices, he didn’t react at all. People calling out his name. Muffled discussions outside of Grian’s focus. And then torchlight flooded his little cavern as someone or something broke through the rock. Grian flinched at the light, harsh on his eyes, instinctively cowering his head away from the brightness.
“Grian?”
Grian didn’t respond, he barely had the energy to do anything, never mind speak.
“Grian we’re gonna get you out of here,” the voice spoke again. “Can you move?”
He didn’t react but felt a pair of armoured arms reach around his frail body and lift it out of the opening they’d made. Gri recognised the voice, sure, but everything was so fuzzy, he couldn’t quite place it, his senses were being a little overwhelmed now he wasn’t trapped in darkness. He didn’t even pick up on the conversation happening around him.
“Holy- is he alright?”
“I don’t know, we need to get him topside asap.”
“Wait a sec.”
“What’s up Ren?”
Grian felt a pair of glasses be placed on his nose and found that the light hurt less.
“He didn’t look like he liked the light- he’s been in the dark all this time - it doesn’t fully solve that but my shades should help a little.”
Grian curled into the arms of the hermit carrying him. He’d stopped hoping for rescue, this felt unreal. Was he that far gone that his delusions were this realistic? The arms were far comfier than the hard rock. He could just slip away and-
…
Grian groaned, his head pounding, everything heavy and painful. The light in the room was heavily dimmed, the windows covered up, and minimal torches being in the room. A voice beside his bed perked up at Grian’s awakening.
“Grian! You’re alive!!”
“...hi Impy…” Gri smiled weakly.
He was out. He was safe.