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Wilbur was sinking. Ever since he had returned the earth pulled him down. At first he didn't notice the tiny daisies growing as he sat on the grass, his eyes didn't graze past the trees gently pulling toward him and was not bothered by the ferns reaching their forest fingers to hold onto him. As most pests do his trouble would grow. As the vines reclaimed the rubble of his tomb this force only grew.
One bright afternoon spent with a seemingly benign though eccentric boy named Ranboo Wilbur was scourging for poppies. He had picked some and was about to return to the pair's van when he spotted a patch of the flowers right beside an oak tree leaning his way. As he lent down to pick a few of the blood red petals a vine reached its way out and clung onto his tattered coat. Pulling away sharply in a panic he tried prying off the tendrils that had reached his shoulder in a matter of seconds. Now Wilbur was not a man to cry wolf but his torso was covered in leaves that were growing, and fast. As if the earth wanted to eat him up.
"Ranboo! Ranboo! Help- fucking damni- RANBOO" He cried
The poor enderman ran toward him by the time he had stumbled into the clearing Wilbur was almost encased in vines.
"Wilbur? Are you ok??"
"RANBO- I'm here fuck these vines got ahold of me"
Ranboo almost tripped, slashing at the shrubs with his sword, burning them away. Wilbur shook himself off and swept off any leaves while the enderman boy muttered and worried.
That was the first time he noticed this thing pulling him into the ground. Away from his friends, his rivals, everyone that matters. He would not go back to limbo. No, no, no he was alive now and he will stay that way. Although sometimes, very late at night before he could sleep, Wilbur would hear a hum almost thumping deep under the grass, soil and rocks that he had felt before but hoped to never feel again.
Most of the days that followed were spent in the van away from any greenery. If he did leave he would stomp or cut whatever shoots reared their heads. Sadly enough a man cannot spend his life in a van, away from the world as is his savior. He had things to do! People to meet! He had promised Tommy that he could show him shroud, his new spider friend. Honestly the child would not shut up about the eight legged fucker. So here he was on his way to Tommy's house, sidestepping any especially enthusiastic weeds. He had missed him in limbo, it had been lonely, In the way a child misses his favorite doll, or a dog his squeaky toy to bite. Now he was alive he could play as much as he wanted.
They met at Tommy's house, where the child dragged Wilbur over to his horridly fuzzy spider. Its hair is sticking up in different places and was matted in others. As if Tommy had tried brushing its fur. The beast donned a bright, poorly crafted friendship bracelet on one of its front eight legs. Wilbur thought it was among the worst things he had seen in his time but Tommy looked so proud he couldn't tell him otherwise. Once he was done blabbering about his “pet”, They left to walk down the prime path. Soon he saw the small leaves poking themselves to the surface near where Tommy's bright shoes stepped, always getting close but never latching on. As he kept watching he saw dry spots where the boy stepped flourish and trees bud but never harm him.
"Tommy? How come the grass never gets too close to you?"
"Huh? Oh the flowers? Well i wasn't sure at first either big man, it started after the green bastard brought me back”
Wilbur nodded, kicking a rogue dandelion that had reached his shin as they sat down on a bench overlooking the smp. Wilbur pulled his knees up onto the bench while they watched shoots rise from the ground near where Tommy's shoes touched the ground, flower, get closer almost touching his ankles but restraining themselves.
"I couldn't understand it. They would grow then bud then flower but had no purpose. Will, you remember how at the start, before everything I would sing to the flowers..."
Tommy stared down at the snowdrops who were going through seasons of growth in seconds all around him.
"Well I sang to them just to remember. They still grew but… gently, and that thumping sound stopped. I think they remembered too"
"Wilbur, I think these flowers are a good thing. You aren't… supposed to be here. It's not right, that book isn't natural and neither are you anymore. I think the ground wants you back"