Chapter 1 – Home Sick

The repetitive patter of rain slamming on the wooden planks above echoed in my head over, and over. I have always hated the rain, not entirely sure why, just something about it really bums me out. And so here it was. Raining. Again. The heavy scent of the rain dampened the air in my room, and it made me want to punch a hole in the wall. And knowing the shoddy craftsmanship that brought up the house, a poke alone would probably make a hole.

I've talked to my dad time and time again about refurbishing and renewing the whole building. Maybe some Spruce to darken the walls so its not so monotonous and boring, considering all the buildings in our village are oak and with almost no decoration of any kind. It bored me.

But, as with every creative idea I ever have, the concept was thrown out quickly.

I hate being here. I'm so different than everyone else, so why am I even here? My dad says I have to stay and support the village, but I can tell everyone wants me to leave anyways. If my dad hadn't interfered so many times, convincing them I'll stop coming up with all my "black magic", as the village elder calls them. All I've ever done was express my creativity to better the village. The worse was probably my Stove idea...

But that's behind me. Well, I've let it go at least. The village still grimaces at fire a little ever since that night. How was I to know the prototype would explode?

I couldn't have, obviously.

I'm just far too different from everyone else here. Everyone is afraid of the dark, I'm not. No one here is creative whatsoever, and everything just looks absolutely the same. While I have far too much creativity that its straight up hindering. Also... Every person, literally everyone, in the village has a huge, ridiculous nose that takes up majority of their face. I'm not sure why, surely it couldn't have been evolution. I mean just why? What would it give you?

A hard time eating, that's what. And so, another thing making me different, I don't have a large nose hindering my daily activities.

Placing my hand against my forehead with an audible slap, I shuffled it over and through my dark brain hair and sighed. My tanned skin glowed a nice orange from the flickering flames of the torch over my bed. I just stared at my own skin, hypnotized...

I felt like I was about to fall asleep, so drowsy...

"STEVE!"

Dang it.

"STEVE! Come down here!"

I sat there a moment before sliding out with a drawn out grunt. My feet slapped against the wooden floor boards and the cold from them seeped up into my near-numb heels. Swaying to the side I grabbed my boots and slid them on, not even caring to close the laces. Standing, turning, and walking forward and down the sleek stairs to the freezing cobblestone floor below was a groggy blur. It happened before I even had time to add it to my already dull memories.

My father stood over an open flame, preparing some kind of mushroom stew. It smelled good, but I knew the stew wasn't the reason for my summoning.

"Yeah, dad?"

"Steve, you know you're in charge of wall watch tonight." He turned away from the fire pit, his horrendously large nose covering his mouth denying whether he had even spoke or not. He was dressed in a bland, brown thrown over shirt and a blacksmith's apron. Mostly leather.

"But dad, its raining!"

"Look, son. I know you're afraid of the rain-

"I'm not afraid of it, I just strongly hate it."

"But you need to find a job you can actually do without endangering anybody." His gaze held constant sympathy and concern. I wish I didn't have to put him through the stress of raising me, I really did. But what am I to do? I'm just too different.

"I know, its just... Wall watch is just such a boring job."

"But it needs to be done. Grab your cloak, eat a bowl of this stew, and get out there." He held his gaze on me, without even flinching.

No need to argue, had to do it.

"... Alright, fine." I turned on my heel, heading up the steps at a quick pace. I could have sworn my dad said something, but the rain drowned it out. Grabbing my, or more precisely our, cloak out of the chest by the end table, I hopped back down a moment later several steps at a time. I almost tripped part way down too, not entirely that that would've been a bad thing. Wouldn't have to do wall watch with a sprained ankle.

But, depressingly, I did not hurt myself.

Upon my quick footed arrival dad had put out a portion of steaming mushroom stew in a wooden bowl marked "Steve" in badly scribbled letters. The first thing I ever made using my unique creativity. Most of the other villagers laugh at me, saying a bowl is just a simple eating utensils with no need for special treatment. But why not? Its my bowl. Who cares if a little stew seeps out the tad too deep groove on the "V"? Certainly not me, it was mine.

I spotted dad giving me a happy smirk as I wolfed down the stew. And it was then I noticed why.

"... You ground up cocoa beans into this, didn't you?"

"Well, you've always loved the bitter taste of the cocoa beans." He smiled a little wider.

"But dad, those were our only cocoa beans! Are you sure it should have been used on something so... small?"

He smiled through the doubt, walking over and laying a coal stained hand over mine against the table.

"Son... anything with you is a big deal. You are creative, and smart, and talented. And I sure as Nether know you'll fix the fear crippling us one day."

I laughed a little, a true smile breaking. "Watch your language dad, what would Notch think?"

"Hah, guess it's a good thing I'll be meeting him up in Aether some time soon, I can ask myself."

"Dad, you're still young. You're not going anywhere."

"Oh don't fret about it, I can feel it in my bones. My time is coming soon, and I trust Notch to care for me in Aether." I felt a slight pain in my chest as he spoke those words, but it made me warm at the same time at his heroism. I didn't want him to go anywhere. "Don't give me that look, now, Steve. It's coming, and we both know this frail body could use a good rest." I stood and hugged my dad, something I really haven't done since I was little. "You'll do great things one day. I only wish me and your mother could have been around to see it. I love you, son."

"... Love you too, dad."

He grinned, stupidly. "I know, I know. Now get out there and protect our village!" He shoved me in the back towards the door. I couldn't help but grin. "Good luck."

Swinging the door open, I turned back half the way to face him. "Thanks, dad." I closed it behind me. He said something, couldn't be quite sure what it was over the rain. But I could guess.

"Be safe. Happy Birthday."

I smiled and entered into a slight job, cloak swaying over and keeping me dry. The gravel making up the road launched backwards under my still loose boots. I made for the far end of the village to the wall.

A shiver shot up my spine. This felt oddly like I wouldn't see my dad again.

Of course, pessimism like that never does any good. I shrugged it off, keeping a strong smile. No one was on the road, thank Notch, and the jog was quick. Upon reaching the short fence and jogged under the vine awning set up in the corner. Jackson, one of the older villagers, sat underneath. He gave me a cold look as I approached.

"Hey, Steve. Happy birthday."

"Thanks."

"Enough chit-chat. I'm going to go home. Every thirty minutes you need to walk station to station and make sure everything is fine. Pretty basic. If anything seems amiss, hide behind the wall. Then continue." He sighed. "Can you handle this?" He said it like I couldn't be trusted with something so simple. It would be more hurtful had I not proved time and time again the traditions of this village just don't bode well with me.

"Yeah, pretty basic stuff." He squinted his eyes at me.

"Alright. I'll be going..." He tossed on his own cloak and slowly walked out through the rain to his own cottage home. Leaving me alone. In the rain.

I sat against the wall. Of course, the term "wall" was pretty generous considering it was a three foot tall wooden fence lined with old, withered vines. It couldn't stop the monsters of the night, it simply stood as an inconvenience and ego booster. Looking out into the forest beyond I could see a cow minding its own business, chewing on some grass. It seemed so innocent.

That was before a zombie chew into it. Turning over, I nearly vomited. Looking back over the wall through the trees, the grotesquely green skinned beast was tearing away at the flesh of the cow. It was still alive, too, mooing silently in pain. I felt pained inside. I wished I could help, but it was too late. Besides blood loss, the poison of the zombie's bite would kill the cow within the hour, provided the zombie doesn't eat its heart out by then.

The grass space between the town and the forest was void of life. It was the boring part of the job, should you avoid the grueling nature beyond.

The time passed slowly, the sound of the cow dying down with it. After awhile of boredom I stood, gripping onto the wooden beam of the fence line. Looking over the side, all seemed well. The rained weighed down on the grass and the wind tossed it this way and that. No monsters were hidden among the thickets. No Zombies, no Skeletons, no Spiders, and, thankfully, no Creepers.

The Creepers were the worst of them all. Small creatures covered in a thick green skin, camouflaged to blend into their surroundings. Evil little creatures with only one purpose in their life: to kill you. Upon arrival a Creeper will bloat its own body with a mixture of natural chemicals, until at which point the oversized insect will burst and explode. Destroying anything within a few feet of it. Suicidal, the only way to stop one is to either kill it before the chemicals finish their mix, or to simply avoid it. Thankfully they are stupid so a simple, thrown rock will draw it away. Of course that's also its boon. Almost absolutely silent, you won't even know the danger you're in until you hear the trademark hiss of the chemicals in its lengthy body bonding into explosive gas.

Then you die. Everything ends, the only evidence you even existed being a hole in the ground and some blood splatter.

Straightening up, adjusting my cloak to compensate for the wind, I guess its about time I go for patrol. Stepping out into the rain I walked alone along the short fence, keeping a keen eye on the trees. A pig went by beyond, making an innocent "oink" as it seemed to regard my presence with its retarded, crossed eyes. Of course I knew it wasn't actually looking at me, the things have about as much intelligence as the grass they eat.

It waddled off, minding its own business. As I should be. It took a couple slow paced minutes to reach the other station. The process of going to all four slowing with each checkpoint that passed. And before I knew it, the exciting part was done. Not that it really was all that. Just in comparison to the rest of what the job entails.

Sliding down against the fence, I huddled up into my cloak like a cocoon. Protecting myself from the elements. I felt like I would fall asleep...

I would catch Nether for it if I was found sleeping, but that was far from my mind...

Tired...

My eyes hung low...

Blurry...

"Kehehehe..!"

I snapped to attention, my eyes staring ahead.

Where had that laugh come from? Hopping up and to attention, I scanned the area carefully to locate it. Who in the Nether would be out here!?

I almost passed over it, the figure standing in the trees. Burning white eyes, watching me from the distance over. A cold, unshielded figure almost hidden by the trees.

"Hahaah..!" I could see the glint in the moonlight of teeth, sharp and barren.

What..? I wanted to yell out, help the person, but something seemed off about him. As though if I extended my hand, he would devour it. Fear overrode my system, and before I even knew what I was doing, I was entering into a full-on sprint towards the figure, stick in hand. As if it would help any.

The figure smiled wider. As I approached the figure slipped behind the tree. As I rounded it, however, no one was there. Spinning, frantic, I looked between the trees and tall grass between for any hint.

Hahahahaa..!" I locked eyes with the figure and a shiver shot through my spine. It was nearly half a mile away, across between a clear path between the trees. He ran off.

And I ran after.

"Wait! Who are you!?" I was making a racket, and I knew that was always a bad idea. Especially at night. A growl resounded to my left, I turned to see a zombie entering into a quick paced shuffle after me. "No..." I kept on running, pivoting among the trees and searching. I would see the figure running for a moment before I lost him again. The zombie was gaining and closing the distance between us. How could it have so much speed?

No matter how much I ran I couldn't make up the distance, as the zombie was. The darkness filled the gap between. The thickets twisted around before opening into a wider space.

The ground opened up ahead into a pitch black cave, and the figure ran within. Eyes blazing like white coals and leaving deep trails as he ran, his very essence dragging along behind.

I ran in, disobeying every piece of survival instinct I had. Running in, nearly slipping against the gravel, it appeared like I was gaining on him. As was the zombie.

A sudden light approached as the ground disappeared in an instant. I slammed it a stop, sending stone into the lava pit below. The zombie grabbed my shoulder in an instant, gripping down within strength unforgiving as its mauled, decayed teeth inched towards. Turning on my heel, the zombie fumbled and fell below. Its body disappeared in an instant and the smell of burning flesh filled the air inside the already damp cave.

I could hardly breathe. I was alive, barely...

"Hahahah!"

A slam of pain was sent through my core, all feeling disappearing from my gut where the large black spike protruded. A pickaxe end, pitch black and glistening red with my blood. "Wha...?" A breath barely escaped, tasting of iron.

"I want it back."

"Want... What?"

The spike was shoved out quickly as a hand shoved me around.

It was me that looked into my very core. Everything about us was the same, except the paler skin and blazing white eyes. My Shadow.

"Give me my body!"

And with that we both tumbled into the lava below. My last thoughts were of my father, back at home probably thinking over some mushroom stew. Thinking of me, as I thought of him.

That, and the hideous laughter of my shadow.

"Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha –

...Steve..!

Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha -

Steve..!

Hahahahahahahahahahaaah! You will never escape us!"

Splash, and my skin burned like weak paper. Darkness. Utter darkness...

Steve!

My attention snapped alert, eyes forward and wide. As a reflex I reached for my chest, feeling that it was unharmed. I was back at the wall. On the opposite side, however. I had an axe in my hand that was beginning to sink into the mud. Leaving it where it was I jumped up, looking for the source of the voice calling my name.

No one.

And something felt wrong. What had happened? What did I see?

And what did I do. My arms were sore, and the axe held the dullness and chunks of a wooden chop. An act I did not do, or at least not that I remember doing.

I ran after the village quickly, nearly tripping on the thick grass but ignoring the soreness in my shins.

A shrill shout filled the air, followed by a sharp explosion that silenced it.

Creepers!? How could Creepers get into the village? Well, I was passed out, but still. The wall is at least tall enough to make them reconsider. Unless...

The axe.

Arrows filled the walls, crude in design and made by clumsy hands. The Skeletons were inside, as well.

Blood was splattered on the wood. There were bodies.

Were. They'd be up by now, attacking our friends in legion with another. The sound of wood splintering filled the air, a deep groaning as a zombie ahead slammed it's splinter covered arms against the door of a family's cottage. I knew them too, they had two kids. Who all hated me.

Picking a large wooden sliver off the ground I ran up, further ignoring the survival instinct within to plunge the stake into the side of the zombie's temple. It fell to the ground, twitching sluggishly as purple ooze spilled from the wound slow as molasses. Its arms convulsed silently, bones creaking, as it stood at me once again. In a quick, awkward movement I slammed my heel into it's nose, smashing the cartilage in a loud crunch as the skull broke open against the stone. It stopped moving, leaving me staring into the window of the family and looming over the once again still corpse.

I received a cold look from within. As though my heroism didn't matter.

Screw them.

I ran off into the night, one thought filling my head.

Dad... Dad... Dad!

I turned a sharp corner, barreling around at an angle before entering into a full sprint at my house. The door was open, windows dark. "Dad!"

I ran into the house, looking around swiftly for my father. No evidence, but purple goop sizzling against the stone. Zombie blood, poison. Mixed with the red of human.

There was what looked like the remains of the zombie that had attacked, smacked away into the corner and its head smashed away with what used to be a hammer. Good 'ol dad. There was a glistening trail of blood leading up the stairs.

I ran upstairs two steps at a time, hoping against all odds to see my dad sitting on my bed. Enjoying a bowl of soup, a smile across his face and oil smearing his cheek.

I couldn't have been more wrong, or so devastated.

He sat laying against the chest, bleeding out. I ran forward, dropping to my knees as I grabbed his shoulders in a frantic haze.

"Dad! Dad!" He did not respond to my shouts. The blood was sleek with the infection. He would rise soon. "Dad..."

He fidgeted underneath me. Hand raising to grab at my back, I couldn't stop embracing him. He was dead...

"... Steve."

Or...