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"...shit" Mikita cursed as he desperately rummaged through his satchel, the torch he was holding was held between his elbow and torso, careful not to burn him or his clothes. The search was fruitless, he was all out of torches. Mikita was usually more resourceful than this, running out of materials was practically his worst nightmare, which was now his reality. He ran a hand through his messy black hair and then pulled it in frustration, he hadn't been himself since he'd come into contact with that...creature. He'd lost several nights of sleep which made him sloppy and rather forgetful.
The forest he was lost in was shrouded in darkness, the trees were tall, which didn't allow for a lot of moonlight to enter through the leaves and branches. What little moonlight that entered illuminated the twisted, contorted silhouettes of the trees, making them look like something out of a bad acid trip. Mikita was incredibly on edge, eyes darted wildly in all directions, waiting for something to jump out. He'd spent all day mining, there was no way in hell he was losing this shit. He leaned his head back against the tree he was resting on, his senses honed in on the distant groaning of mobs. Before he could continue mulling over his pitiful situation he felt a slight breeze as an arrow narrowly misses his head.
He jolted off of the tree and started running away, he could hear the sounds of skeleton bones in their clunky motion, several of them, at least 3 skeletons were chasing after him. An arrow hit the tree right next to him. He dodged the arrows as he ran, most out of luck, the rest out of skill. He changed directions a couple times to throw off the skeletons from his trail, his torch threatening to blow out due to the speed he was running at. He'd managed to lose the skeletons but kept running until he reached a large clearing.
He stumbled as he escaped the dense wall of trees and ran into the clearing, just shy of falling face-down to the ground. He bent over, his hands on his knees, he could feel the calloused skin there due to the rips in his jeans.He could hear his heart pound in his ears as he gasped for air. He looked around, surveying the area, there were no mobs around, the moon shun brilliantly above him, sufficiently lighting up the area.
"Thanks for nothing..." he huffed as he killed the torches flame by snuffing it out with his shoe. Now that he had calmed down he looked around again, he couldn't help but admire the beauty of the clearing. The grass was an unbelievably lush shade of green, he could still tell despite the dark of the night. Several species of flowers grew in abundance, making the clearing look rather colorful
"This place would make a nice parking lot" Mikita smirked to himself, the clearing seemed like a sort of safe haven, no mobs entered. Which was rather strange, he'd never seen the monsters blatantly avoid an area before, even if it was well lit. He shrugged. The adrenaline had warn off and his knees buckled slightly. He made his way through the tall grass and to a boulder and leaned against it, careful to avoid the mossy areas. He opened his satchel, which served as his inventory. It was mostly filled with different ores that he mined. He'd meant to get more food but he'd lost track of time in the mines and it was already dark out. Now all he had was a few measly pieces of bread,some water, and uncooked beef. Mikita sighed and ran a hand through his hair again. He peeked an eye out, there was a really huge lake at the center of the clearing. He stalked closer, the water was crystal clear and he could see the various species of fish under there, mostly salmon and cod, his mouth watered a bit. He rolled his sleeve up and stuck his hand in the lake, roughly grabbing a salmon fish. He chuckled darkly as it squirmed in his hand, drowning in the air. As if insulted, it managed to free itself and slapped Mikita across the face with its' tail before jumping back into the water.
"Son of a bitch!" he grumbled, rubbing his cheek "fine, be that way.." He settled for the raw beef in his satchel, he'd gathered some wood to get a fire going, groaning when he realized he'd have to find some coal to make another torch. He'd ignored all the coal during his mining trip and just snuffed out his last torch a minute ago. "fuck..what is wrong with me?", Mikita sighed and dug into a random area in the grass with his iron pick-axe until he reached stone and eventually coal.
After awhile he had a decent fire going. He sat next to it with his legs crossed and his face resting in his hands as he watched the beef cook. Okay, so..how is he going to get home? He genuinely had no idea where the hell he was. He contemplated killing himself and re-spawning; losing all his ores or he'd aimlessly wander in the morning, hopefully making his way home. He groaned again. He decided not to think about it for now, that was morning Mikitas' problem. For now he was just going to enjoy the atmosphere of the gorgeous clearing, and eat a nice stake.
He let himself rest on his back, hands behind his head. The sound of crickets buzzing in the distance was like a lullaby, he sighed as he watched fireflies dance in the air. He felt serene. He'd fall asleep right now but the sizzling smell of beef kept him wide awake, his mouth watered. He nestled his head in the grass a bit more. This was...nice. He hadn't felt this relaxed in ages, which was ironic, considering his current predicament. As he closed his eyes he could feel the corners of his lip quirk up, a smile almost forming on his face until...
knockknockknock...
His eyelids split open, he paused before throwing his upper body upwards with his forearms, his eyes darted around the clearing like a heat seeking missile looking for the source of the noise. And then he saw him, "The Knocker" as the villagers call him, leaning against a tree with the most insufferable shit-eating grin. "You actually have to be kidding me right now." Mikita muttered under his breath, his one fucking moment of peace ruined by this kind of attractive thing.
"You-.. what are you doing here?" Mikita's eyes followed the knocker as he stalked closer to him, his figure slowly became more visible as he entered the light, He wore a poncho-like piece of clothing with a hood which cover his shoulders and chest along with his hair, which made his waist look rather slim (wait, is he eye-fucking his stalker right now??) the ends were frayed out unevenly and had a grey finish to them, as well as a couple small holes. His clothing was all black including his pants which shaped his legs nicely- (okay he really needs help) and flared out at the end, as well as black combat boots and belts that sat on his hips that seemingly served no purpose. And of course his face wore its' usual smug-amused expression.
"I should be the one asking you that, kitja" Mikita bristled at the nickname. He could hear the knockers voice in his head, the other didn't quite speak- or couldn't the few times he did speak he'd do some telepathy-type bullshit and speak in his head. Oddly it wasn't as unsettling as it should be- or rather Mikita wasn't as unsettled as he should be. The expression on his face must've been one of confusion because The Knocker clarified "...I live here, sort of"
Mikita's eyes narrowed and he folded his arms "I don't see your name on it, asshole" The Knocker crudely points to a sign that said "The Knocker". Oh. How the hell did he miss that?
Okay whatever, so The Knocker hadn't been stalking him, he just had terrible luck and ended up at his stalker/tormentor's...err living quarters, which was a random clearing in the middle of a forest. He wasn't exactly surprised. It probably would've been weirder if The Knocker lived in like...the suburbs or something.
That train of thought was interrupted by the smell of his beef burning on the campfire "Fuck!" he cursed and scrambled over to it, he picked up the stick the beef was hoisted on and gingerly transferred it to a napkin. He poked and prodded it. Ugh. It looked well-done, too well-done. He preferred medium rare at most. He sighed and glanced up at The Knocker, who was just standing there with his arms folded...watching him. Sheesh, this guy was REALLY into voyeurism. He heard the knocker chuckle
"Fuck, did i say that out loud, or can you just read minds" The knocker walked closer, sitting right next to him, while gazing at the lake. Silence hung in the air. Great, so he just wasn't going to answer that then.
He let out a heavy sigh, he was sitting with the man, or thing, who has been stalking and tormenting him for months. It was awful, his sleep brought him no rest, leaving him exhausted most of the time, he was paranoid, always looking over his shoulder, the sound of any knocking made him flinch like a wounded animal, even nights where The Knocker didn't show up, he'd lay awake waiting for his arrival, too on edge to fall asleep. The Knocker was a pain in his ass....And yet, he couldn't deny that getting stalked, having someone watch over his every move whether he liked it or not, watching him eat, sleep or.... even...change clothes. He felt his cheeks heat up as he quickly shoved that thought away, yeah, he was fucked. Way too fucked for a normal relationship. ...Wait why was he thinking about relationships uhhmmmmm-
"Are you thinking about me,милая?" The deep voice echoed through his head, reaching every single crevice and corner in his brain. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, he was sure his face was red now. "Don't flatter yourself, bastard." Mikita muttered and turned his head, flustered by the pet name, chewing his rubbery stake. He could see The Knocker cock his head back and laugh. God. The Fucker definitely knew what he was doing to him. Maybe he could read minds after all, eurgh, that's not good...
He was oddly docile today. The Knocker was volatile, he usually just stalked Mikita, fucked with him, stole his food, killed a couple of his farm animals... stuff like that. Other times he'd just straight up kill him. Though recently he'd stop doing the latter, resorting to just stalking or messing with him. He knew he wasn't the first "victim" of this maniac. His rumor was carried on by several villages and communities. His first couple of victims were just ordinary villagers, who don't re-spawn after being killed. The Knocker probably got bored of them, villagers didn't lead very interesting lives after all.
After that he moved on to more...isolated people, people who lived hundreds of blocks away from villages or any nearby communities. Some he'd torment for weeks, others months, maybe even multiple victims at a time. But Mikita was special, apparently.The knocker had stalked him the longest, It'd almost been a year since he'd first met The Knocker. A pale face in the dark of night, body concealed by the tangled trees he was wedged between, staring at him through his kitchen window. He thought it was just the weed at first. After coming in contact with the Knocker on multiple occasions, he resorted to the internet, lurking on forum posts by his previous victims, who detailed the stalking and assault they went through. Though none of them said anything about The Knocker being docile or even affectionate at any point. He was a special case indeed. He glanced over to The Knocker again, who stared longingly into the lake. This man had maimed, killed, and traumatized dozens of people, and yet, Mikita couldn't help but think that he was rather beautiful. The kind of beauty that haunted him and plagued his every waking moment. He tore his eyes away, man, he was sooo fucked for thinking that. But he couldn't give less of a shit about any of those people. Mikita wasn't a good person by any means,The Knocker paid him more attention than anyone else ever had, and more importantly, he was smoking hot. It wouldn't hurt to try to get to know him...maybe...for research purposes.
Mikita turned his head to him, mustering up some courage, he glanced away nervously before looking back "What.." he hesitates, "What are you?" The Knocker turned to him, Mikita could feel every muscle tense "Something old" The Knocker replied, the deep voice in Mikita's head sent chills down his spine.
He gulped "How Old..?"
"Old enough" Mikita gave him a look of irritation at the vague answer, causing The Knocker to chuckle, his lips pulled into a small smirk. "I'm not a thousand years old...or geriatric" he spoke again, for whatever reason that put Mikita at ease. Mikita spoke again.
"Why me?" he said without thinking, his eyes were trained on the grass below them, still not able to look in the other man's eyes. "Does it matter?" The Knocker looked at him, watching every movement.
"Well, yes. You don't usually call your victims pet names, do you?" That earned another laugh from The Knocker, it was a sound Mikita was begrudgingly starting to like. "
Are you complaining?" He felt his cheeks redden
"...No it's better than getting murdered, at least"
"I think you like it" He teased
"Whatever helps you sleep at night" Mikita mumbled, he tucked his knees to his chest, half burying his face in his arms to hide his flustered face.
They entered a comfortable silence, if not a wee bit awkward. Mikita racked his mind for something else to ask. "Do you always follow me?" He pulled his face out of his folded arms looked at him.
"Define following" Mikita's quirked an eyebrow "Like, literally going everywhere I go?"
The Knocker hummed, thinking for a bit "A lot of the time, yes. Other times, I just know where you are." Mikita's eyes widened, did The Knocker place some sort of tracking device on him?? he opened his mouth to ask but was stopped when the Knocker continued "This place...or forest, is like my domain of sorts. Or rather, I'm connected to it, somehow." He looks back at the lake "I know every creature that enters, I can communicate with them in whatever way it understands, I know where every single one is."
"...Cool" He said without thinking. So The Knocker just knew wherever he was? That explained a lot... his house was close to these woods.
Mikita asked another question "Why me?"
The Knocker paused, as if choosing what information he wanted to give out, and what to keep to himself. "I didn't choose you, actually, you moved here, to this forest." Oh yeah... At the start of the year Mikita had moved away from the village he grew up in, or rather, kicked out, due to his...problematic behavior. He'd been warned against going to this forest specifically. But he didn't care, he wanted to get away from those ugly, prudish ass villagers. This was his karma, apparently.
"Still doesn't explain why you seem to like me in particular" The knocker chuckled again, he turned to Mikita with a small smile, the corners of his eyes crinkled. "You're... interesting, you remind me of myself, somehow."
The last thing any normal person would want to hear from a cold-blooded murderer was that they reminded said murderer of themselves, well uh, maybe that would be second to "I'm gonna kill you". But Mikita was not normal, by any means, and knowing that him and The Knocker shared some sort of kinship made him oddly...giddy, and so he preened. They were both outcasts in a way, The Knocker, less (or more) than human, supernatural, a ruthless killer and abuser to many. And Mikita, who was kind of just a piece of shit, and maybe a bit too ruthless when it was his turn to slaughter the cattle at the butcher shop he worked at in his old village.
"...and well, You're cute." The Knocker said, his cheek rested in his palm as he looked at Mikita with slight amusement. Mikita felt himself go beet red. Cute. Okay. Maybe he would've preferred "handsome" or "charming" but he'd probably accept any word of praise said by that deep, sultry voice. Yeah he was definitely fucked.
His thoughts were interrupted when The Knocker scooted closer to him. His breath hitched, he could quite literally hear his heart pounding in his ears. He struggled to swallow, and his face somehow managed to get even more red. The Knocker reached his out, his finger weaved through Mikita's messy black hair, before moving down the side of his face to cup his chin. The knockers thumb slowly stroked the side of his face with his thumb, his fingers were cold to the touch. Mikita's eyes were like saucers, and only then could he look the other man in the eye. His pupils were black. No variation in color at all. And yet they were so beautiful. His eyes were a never ending void, like a black hole, pulling him in, consuming him. Mikita looked over his face, he was pale white, like snow. Around his eyes were black face markings that stretched all around his eye socket and to the middle of his cheek. Like really overdone raccoon-eyeliner. They looked sort of ashy, the particles were scattered in small amounts all over his face and neck. He could just barely make out his eyelashes, which were surprisingly long. Despite his quirks...he was really handsome (he'd heard some victims remark such in their forum posts)
"enjoying yourself?" The Knocker hummed, dragging Mikita out of his thoughts. His eyes widened. "You..., What are you doing?" He choked out,he'd love to feign discomfort but he didn't have it in him, not even to save his own massive ego.
The Knocker ignored his pleas and brought him closer, making him sit between his legs. "Is this comfortable, кролик?" God, he wouldn't be surprised if steam was coming out of his ears right now. He swallowed and nodded slowly, and with that The Knocker wrapped his arms around his torso, pulling him firmly against his chest. Mikita couldn't believe this was actually happening.
After a solid 20 minutes of silence Mikita had calmed down, his heart was at a normal bpm and his face didn't feel as warm anymore. He felt oddly at peace, for the first time in what felt like forever. Which was ironic considering the source of his discomfort for the past few months was the one cuddling him right now. The Knocker had his face buried in his neck. Mikita shivered every time he felt the other's lips brush against his skin. He felt The Knockers' hand slip under his jacket and shirt, feeling the skin on his stomach. His breath hitched and he felt heat climb up his neck and onto his face...and other places. His heart pounded in his rib cage, like it was threatening to escape. Thankfully this didn't escalate, but he wasn't sure if he'd say no if it did...
The feeling of The Knockers fingers stroking his skin was lulling him to sleep, his eyelids flickered open and shut.
"...sleep" The Knocker whispered against his skin of his neck, the voice not appearing in his head this time. His eyes flickered close, before opening, everything in his peripheral vision was obscured by darkness, The Knockers doing. The only thing he could see was the clear shimmering lake in front of them. Mikita let out a curt yawn, he could barely keep his eyes open now. He felt his body go limp as he fell asleep in The Knockers arms.
The next morning he woke up in his bed, his blanket tucked under his neck. He slowly sat up in confusion, before the memories of the previous night came back to him with full force. He threw the blankets off of himself, seeing he was still in his clothes from last night. Oh, okay, good... His eyes darted around looking for his satchel. He rummaged through it, the ores he'd mined were still intact, though his two pieces of bread were missing. He clicked his tongue in annoyance. He shuffled out of bed, planning to head to the bathroom when he noticed a small sign next to his bed. "You snore loud, kitja". Mikita huffed and shoved the sign inside a drawer. But he couldn't help the smile threatening to form on his face while he started his day.