It's a long path, made out of colorful wool, stretching itself through the depths of The Void, becoming each time more twisted as enormous creatures fly, laugh, giggle and scream at the poor souls that dare to walk around such terrible place.
The creeper does not give attention to them, apathetically walking, searching or something that can no longer be found.
The creature has lost everything, giving it in exchange for little pieces of glass, small enough to be eaten, big enough to hurt while going down its delicate throat.
They have given it a light, and it has eaten it whole.
Its head is not connected to the body, it floats some centimeters up, only not flying away to finally feed the ones watching because it is bound to the neck by long, glowing ropes. The former glass understands its new purpose now.
Something tugs at the Path. It is hungry…so very hungry…sadly, it starts chewing at the wool, instead. How pathetic! It is so weak it can't think enough to understand it could finish the creeper's existence!
The path shortens each second. It's time to run.
Unknown eyes watch as the broken creature speeds down the corridors, taking care not to fall down. The darkness is a terrible end for such beings.
Something starts a choir of human lullabies. Twinkle, twinkle, little star, how I wonder what you are…
It reaches a bifurcation. No way is right or wrong, but it's time to choose, anyway. No rational decision can be made with both options are equal.
Left is for the heart, right is for the true emotion.
Going ahead, it jumps into the nothingness.
Oh, such devious little spirits! They turn their little path visible again, letting the creeper walk on it in return for its beautiful decision.
Left is for the heart, right is for the true emotion and going ahead is for our madness, tearing this dream apart. What about turning back? Turning back is for suicide, as she proudly sings of her little stupid pains.
The hungry creature has just started to eat itself. No danger survives its own terrible nature.
Lights, weird and painful, appear everywhere, taking each piece of this Void away and putting their own blindness on it, instead. Walls, floor, ceiling, everything is white and infinite in all directions, in a way or the other.
The creeper cries. It's almost on its end…how can the world be so indifferent? How? It doesn't matter, to say the truth. When there aren't Players, other mobs or Gods, things are quite meaningless, so one shouldn't be pained by it. No one is supposed to be hurt by the concept of loneliness, not even "us".
"Hey there"
It is talking to itself, sadly. But…forget it, please. Don't pay attention to its desperate attempts to exist once again. It is all lost already.
A beautiful portal becomes real in the middle of the terrible room. How can you reach the half of infinite? Well, just say you are there.
The creature steps on it and screams loudly. It doesn't hurt, but it is needed anyway. Leave the pain behind and let the lights feast on it.
The sun is setting in the plains. Everything is silent as the first mobs spawn around.
In the ground, the little body of a child. Our creeper, the skin and muscle of the neck cut off, leaving the distorted bones of the spine to be the only thing between the torn apart body and the head.
Who did that?
No one. Even if it had done it to itself, it would still be no one, for it no longer exists.
It fades away, and no one will ever care again.