Hey guys! I'm new to this site, so please give tips and advice to me in reviews. I will try in the future to go for a word goal of 2000, so sorry for the shortness of this. :/ Hope you enjoy! I need OC's , so please submit one for the man in the end of the chapter, and more for extras. :)

The first thing he knew he was lying face down on a sandy, warm beach. "Who am I?" he wondered, but instantly he knew. I Am Steve. "How did I know that?" he thought, as he sat up and gazed at the surrounding scenery. Directly in front of him lay a vast ocean, stretching to the horizon. To his left a lush jungle sprawled, its towering trees reaching high above him. Glancing to his right he saw the beach extending far, until it curved out of sight, and above that was a plain, dotted with animals.

Deciding to go to the jungle first, he walked over top the edge of the foliage and found an old stone path leading into it. The smooth stone felt good to his feet, as he walked along beneath the massive trees. He then managed to break off a few sticks and make a crude pick, and walking over to a dark cave entrance he peered inside. It was dark and damp smelling, but he took a few steps inside, and promptly tripped over a projecting rock. "Owww!" the bruised man said, but he noticed that the stone was hard and resilient, perfect for making a better pick.

Taking his flimsy pick he hit the rock a hard stroke and jarred his arms, but made a small indentation in the rock. Hitting again and again he noted with satisfaction that the pick dug deeper and deeper into the rock, and finally he had a few blocks of stone. It was then that he heard footfalls nearing him. Whipping around he shouted "Who's there?" and took a step backwards. Out of the gloom he saw a ghostly figure emerge, and approach him. Shaking slightly, he took a firm grip on his pick, and struck the 'Thing' a blow in its middle portion and bolted, not stopping until he sprinted out of the jungle and into the open plain. Here he lay gasping for breath, but he noted that it as midday.

"If more of those "Things" attack again I better have a place to hide" The slightly shaken man thought as he walked over to a small grove of trees. Soon he created a workbench to build tools on, and upgraded his pick's head to a hard stone. Having no desire to go back to the cave, he dug a hole into the soft, fertile plain dirt until he reached more stone, and began the process of mining. To his satisfaction the new pickaxe worked much better, and his little hole soon became a small tunnel. Taking the stone, Steve began to build a small shelter. Just as the sun went down it was completed, and he crafted a wooden door and placed it in the open doorway. Then, walking inside the small dwelling he went to work with the excess stone and started making a stone sword. The industrious man first made a wooden hilt, and then a longish stone blade, honed it sharp with a piece of harder rock, and lashed it together.

Peering out the small holes in his door he saw a few dark forms break out of the earth. "Oh no! not again!" he groaned, and ran to the back of his shelter and crouched, clutching his sword. Soon a dark form loomed up to his door and began slamming into it, attempting to break it down. Cracks soon began to appear in the door and it started to creak and snap. "Great, I have to kill it" he muttered and charged, slamming the door aside and yelling as he sliced at the creature, but it evaded him and slammed a fist into his stomach, causing him to groan and stumble back. It moved in for the kill, but he sliced it one more time, and it fell over and died. Running into his house and barricading his shattered door he crouched in the corner and listened to the sounds of monsters trying to get in all night long.

As the sun rose over the ocean he heard the sounds of flames, so he peeked out of a hole in his barricaded doorway and got a better view of his antagonists. A few greenish creatures dressed similarly to him were running around burning, and the observer realized that they were zombies. "Hmmm…" he thought "those zombies are apparently dieing, so soon is should be able to go out and collect more resources". While waiting he began crafting a stone axe to make chopping down trees more easy. First he selected a stout branch from his pile of junk and whittled it down. Then he found a flattish stone and sharpened it to a fine edge, and finally lashed it together. Thus prepared he went out.

Nothing remained of the zombies except smoldering remains, and strangely enough, a few red tinted feathers. Pocketing the feathers, he continued on to the edge of the jungle and began felling trees. Soon he began to get VERY hungry, so tree chopping was discontinued, and he collected his wood, stored it near his shelter and went hunting. A solitary cow was feeding in a chump of grass about 50 blocks away from his shelter, so near starving Steve crept up behind the munching animal, jumped out of the grass and swung his sword. The shocked animal gave a terrified "MOOOO!" and ran surprisingly swiftly away, unharmed. "Shoot", now I have to find something else". Steve said, and grimly walked back to his shelter.

As he neared his house, Steve decided to make a bow, so he could snipe the irritating creature from a distance. Taking a long bough, he whittled it into the proper shape with his sword and made a crude string from tree bark. Then a few extra small sticks tipped with flint and fletched with zombie feathers served as arrows so he set out to hunt. As soon as he was within 30 blocks of the cow he set an arrow on the string and shakily aimed it. It, to his delight flew true and the cow fell dead on the grass. "Finally!" the relived man shouted as he raced to the cow and began cutting it up into steaks. Then he went home and was faced with the problem of cooking it. "Well, I guess I could eat it raw" he said as he stared at the fresh steaks lying on their makeshift leave platters. Then he heard footsteps approaching and a voice call out "Hello?"