Give Up The Fight

Chapter 1: Caged Misery

EDIT: I will NOT be posting a chapter of Hero's Bane today 2/9/14, Something has come up and I will most likely be un able to finish it in time. It's going to be an intense chapter and so I want it to be good and spend a little more time on it(it also because I am having a bit of a writer's block for the beginning of the chapter). Instead, this will have to suffice for now. I do apologize for not making a post on it this time and hope that you guys will understand. Please enjoy this story.

A/N: This was something I typed up months ago but wasn't sure if I should post. I found it again today and I decided to take another look at it. It wasn't so good when I first wrote it and so I went over and fixed mistakes and tweaked it a bit and decided that it was now good enough to post.

This is Herobrine after the 'Take Back The Night' aftermath. He's back again after falling in battle and he is more than determined to get revenge on his latest enemy but one child is about to do anything to prevent that.

Disclaimer: I do not own the original story; the song of Take Back The Night, or Minecraft. I only own my own fan-made concept of this fic.

This story has a few genre's and themes that make it rated T: Blood, Violence, Abuse, Suggestive themes, Language, Hurt/Comfort, Humor, Friendship, Family, White-Eyes, Adventure, Suspense, Mystery, and a little Angst.

…

Deep raspy breaths filled the air of the cool moonlit night, a light fog rose up from a gaping mouth that lightly hung open for breath. A hooded human form carefully leaned back against an oak tree before slowly sliding down onto his rear end to rest his weary legs, being extra careful in the process to not injure himself more. A dark forest green hood covered the man's head, the cloak hid the features of his face and covered his shoulders loosely. The fabric folded to the contours of his resting form, lightly draping only the upper part of his body while he sat undisturbed by the biting chill of the night.

His body ached and burned, especially his chest where a large gaping wound resided. The man hissed as he leaned forward and examined the wound, he growled angrily and clinched his fist from the very sight of it. Blood continued to ooze from the lesion and lightly trailed down his shirt, leaving a long dark stain all down his torso. "Damn it all." He cursed with a deep and smooth tone in his dark voice. He looked at it again and leaned back in anger, two white orbs then shined out of the dark of his covered face. He immediately regretted in doing so when a greater pain shot through his spine; near the same place as his wound on his chest but on his back. He remained still and waited for the pain to subside, he wasn't going to be weak and flail about like a mortal. The man adjusted his position and dared to lean back against the wood to rest, he hissed as the tree bark poked through the cape and into the lesion.

The hooded man growled and endured the pain, it was nothing. Pain was nothing to him, he barely ever felt it; so the twinges wouldn't last for too much longer. All he had to do was give himself time to heal and then he'd go and reap revenge on the one who caused his moment of frailty and vulnerability. His death. It's not like he could die permanently, because he couldn't. He'd had faced death many times but his eyes never shut for good, they would eventually open again. He'd awake sometime after what should be a death blow, the proof of 'what should have been' his death was always there. Stabbings, impalements, missing limbs, blood loss, and even large obstacles he was trapped beneath. He'd always wake back up and regain his strength to continue on, he was basically immortal; no other humans had his power to come back like he did.

Being immortal with unbelievable strength, speed, and other various powers meant that he could do anything he wanted and with limited consequences; since death is supposedly the ultimate punishment amongst mortals and life itself. He could attack anyone or anything and fight like he had a second life when he wished to, he had more than enough lives of his own to spare. The man could also rise up to any challenge and any opponent and fight until he won, though he never encountered enough challengers or came across many obstacles that could stand in his way. Having many abilities made him fearless, daring, and strong. It made him stronger than any other being out there in the world, but having this power was also corruptive. With barely anything to stand in his way; he'd abuse his power to do whatever he wanted with it. He leveled kingdoms across the far lands just because he could, he'd smite anybody or any creature for the show of power, he killed anyone that stood in his way or opposed him, he burned villages to the ground for fun, unleashed hordes of mobs on the innocent villagers and watched as they struggled to fight them off, he even tore mountains in half just to get out some pent up rage.

He loved his power and hated it at the same time though. He hated death and the ability to experience it, it was always so cold and bitter when he underwent the transition of a powerful physical form to a more powerless spiritual form. The feeling of death was as sharp as a knife plunging into flesh and wrenching around inside, then the feeling flooded throughout the body in one large wave as the final breath was made. Waiting for it to end seemed to last forever until the conscious faded out. He'd then wake up to find himself in the Void, a desolate cold world that borders on the edge of existence and nonexistence. He always saw many humans just lifelessly floating around in there from time to time, but once they died they stayed in the black world for a while before glowing brightly ad disappearing to only Notch knows where; while he returned to the waking world.

Prolonged dying was just as bad, but minus the Void. At rare times; he found himself stuck and unable to move, waiting for his wounds to kill him which was difficult since it takes a lot to actually kill him. Sometimes he had to speed up the process himself, he really hated doing that. Self mutilation was not on his usual to do list. When dying; time seemed infinite, being somewhat immortal only made the process of leaving the world even slower. This made the concept of being immortal not so great.

The one thing that he hated most about his power was the lack of pain relief. He had many abilities and could even heal a little quicker than normal humans; but he always felt the uncomfortable sensation that made him feel vulnerable, almost human. There was no ability to make the tender spots go numb, he felt every little pain there was to be felt. Even now he was in pain and didn't want to move around to increase the tenderness, the sharp aches were the worst and it made him immobilized most of the time. The feeling of bodily agony would make him stiffen up so that he could properly heal. It was caged misery, he couldn't avoid it and he couldn't be free of it until the recovery was enough to sustain movement. Being inactive and whimpering from a wound was weak and that was one thing that he was not, or the one thing he never wanted to be. Regardless, he had been on that level before. It's where he was now and he hated it.

A hand lightly moved up and lightly tapped the wound, he winced and gnashed his teeth from the twinge he got after touching it. It was still very tender and moist, no where near being healed but rather in the process. He was losing more blood again, with slow healing wounds; he was likely going to pass out again soon. Once he'd awaken; he would then move to another location, probably not too far from this one. He'd likely fall out of consciousness again if he moved too soon but he didn't want to stay in the open woods like he was now. Slow travel would have to be repeated until he gets somewhere safe and secluded to fully heal so that mortals wouldn't take the opportunity to get revenge on the infamous being, he was determined to not allow them to kill him. Never again.

"How much time do I have this time around?" He quietly asked himself as he raised his crimson coated fingers to examine them in the moonlight, the fluid glistened in the pale glow. He could tell he was bleeding a lot again, moving around always made healing process slower. "Maybe an hour at best?" He said, already feeling the weakness in his limbs creeping up on him. "Maybe sooner?"

He quickly examined his surroundings. There was no sign of human life, just wondering mobs that moved throughout the woods in aimless search for their next prey. They wouldn't dare bother him though, the mobs could tell by his powerful presence that he wasn't a target and they seemed to keep their distance from him.

His new surrounding didn't look too bad, it was more better than his last spot; or more like his resting place. He left his old crumbling fortress hours ago and now had no where to go or stay… yet. Once he recovered; then he'd be able to return and have the damages repaired. He thought about taking refuge in an abandoned castle somewhere else and making it his next fortress instead. After all; his last fortress wasn't actually his, but that of one he took for himself and made it his own with the addition of lava, netherrack, and his own touch of design fit only for him. There were plenty of abandoned strongholds because of him; but none that were still standing were anywhere close by. It would take days to reach one in his condition, so he'd have to find a different place nearby and uninhabited. Like a cave, but that would require movement and he had no desire to move at all in his condition. His recent travel had taken a lot out of him and even a few of his abilities were repressed from his growing weakness. He wasn't too happy with the thought of sleeping out in open of the woods but he felt too drained to even stand. His head was starting to ache and he was feeling drowsy too, signs that he was on the verge of 'forced' sleep through blood loss.

"Am I going to die again?" He thought aloud as he looked at the wound once more. He may have pushed himself too much too soon, ignoring the fact that he was bleeding in two places instead of one. It wasn't often that he took more than one wound in a fight; let alone any ever. The man narrowed his eyes and growled as he thought back to his last battle, the one he lost so disgracefully. He had underestimated the mortal, he let the man live for too long and toyed around until the inevitable happened. He got too comfortable during the fight; becoming so arrogant that he let his own power be used against him. Right when he about to get back up and finish his prey off once and for all, it happened. A diamond blade went straight through his back, it went all the way through his torso and out the other side of his chest; the sharp tip finally coming to a stop on the stone brick beneath him. He remembered wailing loudly in defeat before his head met the stone for the final time, then the sword was jerked out. He remembered the sound of footsteps walking away and that was all.

He returned to the void again and drifted in the infinite black for a while before waking up a few days later in the over world, still lying in the ruins of the castle. The gap in his chest was no where near being fully healed up, but the process was underway so he was able to return to the world alive again. He woke up to a huge mess, stone and chunks of the fortress was scattered about and the platform he was on was barely holding up. It had started to crumble when he stood and he had but no choice to worsen his wound with a few good leaps across floating platforms in the lava to get to safer and more sturdy grounds. The pain was agonizing with his stretching wounds after being unable to use his amazing speed and teleport ability to advance with ease, but he had to deal with it to escape. Once he crossed the collapsing bridge; he turned around and gazed emptily at the disposable fortress, he stood there for a minute before turning away from crumbling structure and sprinting across the plains while dealing with the growing tenderness. From there; he had traveled eastward for a few hours until his body demanded rest, now he was finally going to get it through force.

Carefully, Herobrine leaned his head back on the trunk of the oak and he gazed at the veil of stars that blanketed the sky. His eyes then moved onto the round bright orb that drew his attention with it's massive size. It was full and bright, giving even the trees around him a shadow in dark of night. The moon gave everything within it's view; a dim pale glow, a soft shade that made everything seem tranquil. Herobrine let his glowing orbs close for a brief moment before shooting them open quickly. He didn't want to sleep, he didn't need it and he refused it. When he blinked; he found a sliver of darkness, one that coaxed him to blink a little slower and more frequently and rest his heavy eyelids. He blinked once more before finally giving in and letting them stay shut, he couldn't focus on staying awake no more.

…

"Steven? Steven? Where are you?" Came a soft but spiteful tone of an middle-aged woman, her voice was anything but pleasant; sounding raspy and dull like someone who had been living in stress for most of their life.

"Damn it boy, where in the hell are you at?!" Came an even louder masculine voice, one that was cold and obviously filled with rage.

Steve refused to leave his room, sitting quietly against the door to keep it blocked up as good as he could. He had his hands wrapped around his knees with his chin resting on the tops of his knee caps. The young child refused to respond to the voices calling him, they were cold and malicious, belonging to two terrible people who always shouted at him or scolded him for any reason under the sun. In fact, that's the only kind of voices he ever heard. Just anger and annoyance; day in and day out. He rarely ever heard compliments and genuine kind words, especially from the two shouting at him. It was times like this that he missed his old home… the orphanage.

"Steven, you got to the count of five to get in here or so help me…"

The boy tightened the grasp around his legs and took a good breath, it would only be a matter of time before the two adults would come barging into the room. He definitely didn't want that to happen, he was so small but they were not. A pointless lecture and physical punishment was awaiting for him already and he really didn't want to deal with it, he would just get the same kind of punishment if he was to go to them anyway.

"Five!" Came the male's voice.

"Derrick, he's not going to come. We might as well just go in there."

"No Stacy, don't you go in there just yet, he should know by now what a countdown is. He's going get his tail-end whipped if he doesn't get in here. …Four!"

"He's still not coming."

"That's because the kid never learns! You should teach him sometime instead of wasting your time cleaning a house that isn't dirty!"

The woman gasped in insult before huffing rather loudly. "Open your eyes Derrick, this place is a mess! I wouldn't have to clean so much if Steven wouldn't drag mud into the house or leave his toys scattered about!"

"What toys?" Steve said very quietly to himself as the loud voices fought to be heard over the other. He didn't have very many toys, he had to make some on his own because his 'parents' barely ever bought him any. What he did have was usually taken away from him by his 'dad' and placed just out of reach, being told that they were pieces of junk or just too dangerous to play with. He was the one who left the items scattered about after confiscating them, all he did was just lazily lay them on the counters and tables or take them into his room to be locked away. The mud or dirt from the kid's boots was all his own but the floors weren't that dirty, it hadn't rained in a while so there wasn't hardly any mud at all.

"Three Steven!"

He hated it, he always hated when they called for him because it was never good when he went to see what they wanted. It was mostly just a scolding for something he didn't do or did by accident, he always took blame for something of sorts. He missed his friends, his guardians that watched over him and talked with him nicely at the orphanage. It was such a nice place there and he made plenty of friends, even when some of his old friends left with their new families; new ones eventually came and took their place. Some of the adopted ones would come in at times to visit and he'd get to play with them. Those were the days.

"Two!"

Steve definitely missed his old home. He missed meeting the adults that came by to take a child into their care, many of them were so nice and friendly; well from a distance really. Others… were not. Actually, a lot of the adults that saw him either ignored him, looked away with a frightened expression, or gave a face with little disgust like he was something wicked and vicious. Steve just couldn't understand why they treated him so differently compared to the other children, he did try his best to behave and he even washed up good when he heard that more adults were coming. He was never mean… only when some of the other kids picked on him but still, he was taught to be polite and kind to the visiting people by a few of the orphanage's staff; to increase his chances of being adopted.

"Don't make me say it!"

He dreamed of having one of those nice embraces with a new mother and father that he witnessed on occasion, having strong arms wrap him in love and care. Many adults that walked through would talk to the kids and pick them up into their arms and take them home after filling out some paper work, that wasn't his case though. He did eventually get some attention but he was never really chosen except by what looked like a good mother and father, on the outside anyway. 'Those two' walked in and asked him his name, the woman seemed more nicer but she didn't pick him up or even give a hug. The man only commanded him to follow and refused to take his small hand to be walked with like a normal father would.

"One!"

He often wondered why they hated him so much. Was it because of Joseph, their late son? He'd often hear his new parents saying something about Joseph, it was sad to hear that the kid died at a very young age; much like his own at seven years. He must have been the replacement and they most likely hated him because he could not be Joseph nor fill that void of their lost child. Steve tried his hardest to please them and impress them but they didn't ever acknowledge him; except when he got in trouble, all because he wasn't their first son. He was his own person and could not act like the one who was deceased, he didn't even know the other boy.

"Last chance!"

He kind of wanted to meet Joseph now that he thought about it, he never had any siblings that he knew of but it would be nice to have one. Just someone to talk to and listen to him unlike his current family of two. Someone to play with and go on adventures with, he loved to go outside and explore but he did it alone.

It was often that he considered his friends at the orphanage to be his siblings, but having to see them go didn't make the idea of 'family' last. At least most of them were nice while they were there. Some of his classmates from school could fit the bill… if he got to see them more often, but his parents never let them come over and he can't leave the house. It would have been more preferable if he had a sister or brother to call his own if he couldn't get real sensible parents.

"ZERO!"

Steve soon heard heavy footsteps trudging through the household. He was going to be punished again and soon, the very thought had him on the verge of tears. He waited quietly though, he wasn't fast enough to outrun them and he had no where to go. All he could do is just wait for the scolding or even at times; a fist to strike him. The footsteps neared and then he felt a force at his back and was sent face forward to the ground roughly, his skin scraped against the old wooden floor and his eyes became damp from the burning sensation on his cheek. He didn't even have time to pick himself up as a hand tightly clasped around his wrist and jerked him up onto his feet. "Let go." Steve whimpered, the man was pinching the skin on his wrist but he apparently didn't care.

"You are in big trouble little man, when me and your mother called for you; then you were supposed to come to us! You hear me?" He jerked the boy around a bit to get a response.

"I didn't do anything wrong. Leave me alone." Steve lightly narrowed his eyes and tried to pull himself free. He felt a palm slap into the side of his face, he couldn't hold back the tear flow anymore; not from the lingering hot stinging sensation coming from the right side of his face. Two streams moved down his cheeks and he looked up at the man after being jarred again, he bit his lip and kept his eyes slanted in anger; he always got more hits when he stood and cried so he had to be tough. The man of the house was very aggressive and even looked the part with the sharp angular features of his face and his well built physique. His usual expression and attitude almost never seemed to change except when his new mother coaxed him into their room with an alluring tone of voice; he acted like a completely different person then, he even made strange moans and ragged breaths along with his mother from behind their bedroom door.

"Don't you stand there and lie to me boy! You're going to quit leaving your shit all over the house or you won't get anymore!" The man sneered.

"Watch your language Derrick, not in my house." The woman came from through the door with her hands on her hips, her locks of blonde hair flowed a few inches over her shoulder and partially hid the straps of her deep lapis-colored apron. Her blue eyes landed on the boy. "Steven, you are grounded. I'm tired of cleaning up the mud you that you track through the house. Do it again and you'll be the one cleaning it."

"I didn't do anything!" He repeated, Steve briefly shut his eyes as he tried to tug from the strong grasp. "Besides, I don't have many toys dad!" He winced and whimpered when the grasp tightened. "Stop! Please?!" He pulled away again.

"You better start showing some damn manners around here son." The man said with a heated tone and an equally intense glare to match is needless anger. "And don't you dare yell at me like that. When we ask you to come to us; you come with some manners. So you better start listening and behaving. And just so that you know; we are not raising a little pig in this house so stop making messes like one. Next time you make a mess I'm going whip you boy." He finished with rudely shoving the boy's arm to his chest with force, nearly pushing the kid over.

Steve regained his balance quickly, he was used to being pushed around after undergoing the same treatment for over a year and a half now.

"Why can't you be a good little boy?" The woman sighed and shook her head with disapproval. "You are to stay in your room until suppertime. Maybe you'll finally learn something?"

"But-?" Steve replied with wide sapphire eyes. "But I-"

"No buts young man. You need some time to think about what you've done." She said condescendingly.

The young boy crossed his arms and backed away from his 'dad' while glaring up at his 'mom'. "I didn't do anything wrong, you always yell and hit me for things I never do! Dad dose it more and for no reason at all when you go outside, he hits me because he likes to!" The mother made a face of anger and disgust and the father narrowed his eyes sharply with teeth showing through his sneer.

"You're about to be in for a world of hurt boy, you better shut your mouth." The man warned.

Steve was tired of it, tired of being quiet about the undeserved punishment he took on a daily basis. Tired of being treated like he was the worst kid in the world and deserved nothing. Tired of this caged misery that his adoptive parents had made for him. Only the thought of his old home kept him acting like a good little kid that he was, his guardians there showed him more love and kindness than these two did. He tried to understand his new parents and went along with their orders and be the kid that they want him to be but he couldn't, no matter how hard he tried; he couldn't fit their ideal child. Everything he did was wasted, he almost wondered why they adopted him in the first place. He couldn't be their real and somewhat forgotten son. "I'm sorry if I can't be him! The both of you are always mad because I can't be Joseph!" Steve shouted, his shout though; turned into an abrupt cry. He felt two hands shove him forcefully and he fell back against the floor, the top of his head knocked against his toy chest.

"Derrick!" The woman shouted and slapped the man in the back of the head lightly.

"What Stacy?!" He glanced at the woman.

"He can't go to school if he's bleeding from the head! It's bad enough to keep making excuses for his bruises you keep making." She scolded.

"That 'I' make? Pfft! You make some yourself too woman!" He defended, earning a glare from Stacy. "Well, he's unfit for school anyways. Maybe you should start home schooling him, he might actually learn that way because that school ain't doing a damn bit of good. I bet it's at that damn building that he's learning all of this disobedience from the other little monsters."

'They are not monsters! They are nice and smart!' Steve thought to himself as he sat up and brought the back of his hand to wipe away his tears as he used his other hand to soothe the tender spot on the back of his head. He wouldn't dare say what he had on his mind, he didn't want more punishment.

"Fine, I'll start home schooling next week. Happy?"

"Actually, yes." The man made a faint grin, his demeanor went from enraged to charismatic in little to no time at all. Just another one of his mood swings. "You've got more brains than the teachers at that Nether of a school."

"Homeschool it is then." She smiled.

The young boy's eyes snapped wide open. "What?!"

"You aren't going to school tomorrow, nor any other day. " The father took a step back with his arms folded.

"But my friends?" Steve plead softly. He wouldn't get to see them anymore; meaning that he was going to be trapped at home with an abusive mother and father who barely even cared about him.

"You don't need them." Derrick said coldly. "They set bad examples as kids should be anyways. A wild and rebellious bunch is all they are. At least in the house we'll make sure you learn the proper stuff like hard work and manners." He fully turned around to face his wife. "You teach him the basics and I'll put him to work afterward, he won't mount up to anything without good discipline. He's too scrawny anyways, some physical work should fix that and I do need a little help in cutting down some timber and hauling the wood out here. He'd be helping a lot around the house."

"Of course dear, hard work has made you into a proper man." She replied with a sweet tone as she gently placed a hand on his shoulder and lightly messaged the toned muscle.

Derrick reacted by placing one of his hands on her waist but it was quickly brushed off, he looked into her eyes for reason and they darted to the kid. He then titled his head to the side for a second to glance at the boy. "I'll be sure to give him plenty of discipline too … should he step out of line. And Steven?" He said the name darkly. "You mention that name again or tell about anything we did here today or any other day to anyone that comes over and you'll wish you didn't. Got that?" He saw the little boy nod in fear. With confirmation; he brushed past the woman with a grin. "I'll see you in a minute." He whispered in her ear and then left the room.

"Now be good and stay in your room, if you behave for the rest of the day then I'll let you go outside all day tomorrow."

Steve looked down at his legs that were sprawled out before him, keeping his eyes away from the 'not so motherly figure'. "Yes mom." He lightly muttered.

"Good."

That was all he heard before the door shut. Steve looked up to see the door and the vacant space around it, he hadn't been so happy to see empty space for a while now. The last time he was so happy for the loneliness was after his father beat on him badly that day, the day the man just lost it and took his anger out on him. Steve was lucky that his mother cared enough to pull the enraged man away, the boy had several dark bruises on his arms and chest and after going to the doctor from extreme chest pains; it turned out that he had two fractured ribs from the beating. Steve apparently climbed up into a tree and fell from it like a klutz, smacking into various branches before he hit the ground; this was the excuse presented for his injuries. Nevertheless, Steve forgave his father. Derrick had issues with his anger and he even hit own wife on the occasion when he came home in a blistering rage, this dad was ruthless at times and his mood swings were unpredictable. He used to receive therapy but stopped visiting the doctor after claiming that it was costing too many emeralds with little positive results. But still, the man didn't try hard enough to contain his anger and made Steve's life a living Nether most of the time.

The boy leaned forward and pushed himself off of the floor. He had had it, he didn't like how cruel and careless his parents were to him. He missed his home at the orphanage, this place was no home for him. Steve was tired of the bruises and the tears. He wanted to leave so badly, to go out and have freedom from his cage. With that thought in mind; he looked out the window to see the woods only blocks away from the house. He didn't live at the village, he lived out and secluded in what seemed like the middle of nowhere; it was at least a five minute walk from the closest town.

The woods almost seemed to beckon him, all of the trees leaves all swayed in one fluid motion from the wind; moving inward towards the forest. It was calling him to go out and explore. He always loved to get outside and explore small shallow caves and find various animals and their tracks through the tall grass. He loved the feeling of the wind blowing across him and bringing fresh and crisp air to breathe, it was much better than taking in the atmospheric tension that his adoptive parents brought him.

He wanted to leave, mostly out of the spite of his new parents; but some feeling deep inside made him unsure about leaving. It was fear and uncertainty. Monsters lurked in the darkness of caves and ruled the land at nightfall, he was way too young to fight so it didn't seem like a good idea to go away forever. The boy remained indecisive about leaving though, he couldn't take one more agonizing argument or wave of punishment over doing something that he didn't even do. He wanted to go back to the orphanage, his home with his kind and understanding keepers whom he missed so much. Alas, he had no idea where he came from and there wasn't an orphanage in the closest village of their house. He tried to remember where he came from but all he could recall was sleeping the whole way there while riding in the back of the horse-pulled carriage with his adopters; he assumed that he didn't need to know where it was because he was going to have a nice home and caring parents. Now he regretted sleeping that day.

The young boy sighed with exasperation as his eyes continued to watch the dancing leaves. There was no way he was going to ever get back to the place of his old home, but going outside and exploring a bit would put him in a better mood. Steve moved closer to the large windows and lightly brushed at the windowpane in the right corner, it was surprisingly still loose after his dad caught him trying to sneak out and fixed it. Steve felt a small smile crawl onto his face, he'd get to go outside today after all. He could go out and play his troubles away for a while and hopefully return by dinnertime, but another thought suddenly dawned on him. "What if they check up on me?" He softly asked himself.

Steve walked away from the large two-block by two-block window and crept slowly to the door. He hesitated in taking a hold of the door knob, he had noticed that his adopters were being rather quiet after the outburst that happened only minutes ago. He didn't want to be caught opening the door to his room, but he certainly didn't want to be caught leaving the house so he had to know what they were doing. The boy took a deep breath and swallowed a his fear of more punishment, he wanted to go out and enjoy the bright sunny day while he still had it.

His hand had finally landed on the wooden door, he took another breath as he carefully pushed it open to see down the small hallway and into the living room. The door lightly creaked and Steve froze from the sound, the house was way too quite. With a little moment to recollect his nerves; he eased the door open just a little more and peered into the living room. He saw his adoptive father standing in front of his wife with his back to him, lost within a deep and passionate kiss. The man moved a hand down towards then bottom of the woman's shirt and slipped it underneath the fabric, the woman lightly jumped but welcomed the intrusion and wrapped her own arm around the man's neck to deepen the kiss.

Steve then rolled his eyes away from the two and slowly pulled the door shut. 'They're busy, perfect!' He thought. The young boy then moved over to his toy chest and placed his hands over the top edges. He quickly leaned down on to his knees as he opened it. With eager hands; he dug through it with haste. "Today is a day for an adventure and I am going to enjoy it, even if it kills me." The young blue-eyed boy said to himself as he tossed out sticks, blocks of wood, and other various items over his shoulders, in search for one item in particular. "Come on, where are you? … …" He threw out a leather vest and some leggings and other clothes and his eyes went wide with what was hidden underneath the light clothing. "Ah ha!" The kid shouted with joy and smiled widely as he pulled out his favorite toy. It was a wooden sword that he got for his last celebrated birthday at the orphanage. He had to hide it deep within the chest and buried so that his 'parents' wouldn't take it for being a 'sharp weapon' as they saw such things. It was the last gift he received from his real home and it was made of wood, so it really wasn't all that sharp. He put it on the floor next to his feet and pulled out an unlit torch after his eyes caught a glimpse of it. "This could be useful?" He said with confidence, light always made him feel safe; regardless if it was in the middle of the day or not. Only Notch knows if he'd fall into an open cavern and get trapped in it, then having the torch would be best. He took the toy sword and torch into hand and stood up, he turned to see the mess he made in his room; his parents weren't going to be happy about it but he didn't care. He decided that he could clean it later when he returned.

Once he got over to the window he placed his two items on the window ceil and shook the pane carefully again, it popped out perfectly in seconds; like it used to. It seems that his new dad wasn't so good with repairs. Once it came loose, he carefully sat the frameless glass slab to the side and tossed both the sword and the torch out the empty frame. Steve leaned forward and grabbed a hold of the outside window frame and pulled. He squirm through the small hole and went face first to the ground. The boy then leaned up from the soft grass and stood up, he quickly brushed his pants for blades of grass before he grabbed his things. He then took off in a light sprint towards the woods.

It felt so good, he felt so free. Steve's smile widened as he ran about freely through the trees with the wind delivering him that fresh reprieve from the thick and stale air that filled the medium-sized house. The large foliage surrounding him gave him various threads of glittering sunlight that came from in-between the flapping leaves; it shined his pathway and alighted it in beams of translucent gold.

Steve hopped up and over a downed oak log and through an area of large birch trees, his eyes darted for anything of interest; anything that would spell adventure or excitement. He was particularly looking for another shallow cave to explore or a pond that he could swim in, doing these two things were prohibited by his adopters.

The boy slowly came to a stop and briefly rested his hands on his knees with his back hunched from exhaustion, he had ran around for several minutes but was unable to find a pond or cave, not even an animal nor animal tracks to follow. All he could find was trees and more trees, oak and birch littered the woods with an occasional sapling sticking up from the dirt; that was all so far. He found a few small clearings to play in but he'd rather find something more interesting to spend his time on, after all; he couldn't stay out too long with aggressive parents on the slow alert. They never were to fast to go for him except when he was in trouble anyway.

Steve took rapid deep breaths and wiped away the sweat that accumulated on his forehead as he leaned back up. He never got to play out in the woods behind the house often, usually in the front yard with little to no parental supervision; they were often inattentive of him but he was too afraid of being caught trying to go into the woods most of the time and getting more punishment. He had never strayed this far from home before so it was both exciting and a little concerning too. Thankfully, his little sword made him feel tougher than usual; he was hoping to not have to use it though. Wood isn't very durable so breaking his gift wasn't such a good thing, even if he had to defend himself with it.

With his heavy breaths lightening up; Steve began a slower walk on an unmarked pathway. Fortunately, the gentle breeze of cool air was providing him some relief of his heaving lungs. "Come on, there has to be something in these woods? A cave? A witch? Something?" He asked with dismissive emotion, the forest wasn't turning out to be so fun like he thought it would be. There wasn't much to find except a sapling trying to take root in a shaded area, other than that though? Nothing. "Oh great, the forest is boring." He said with a dejecting tone as he continued his slow saunter. "Maybe I should turn back?"

Steve's eyes went wide as a shiver suddenly crawled up his spine, chill bumps quickly covered his arms in seconds. His body shuddered wildly for a second as a bad feeling hit him, he could instantly tell that something wasn't right… or natural in the woods. The kid held his torch and wooden sword closely to his chest as his deep blue-ice eyes scanned his immediate area for the thing that was creating this bad feeling. His eyes moved to his right after a single leaf gently floated down, it was at this time that he noticed that the soft breeze was very faint like it was being repressed somehow. Steve's wide eyes quickly shot to his left as he continued his pace, he thought he saw something but he tried his best to push it off as a figure of his imagination. So much terrible thoughts of what it could be filled his head and drenched his mind in fear. 'Could it be a mob? A big scary monster?' He felt like he had eyes on his back and so he glanced back briefly to see nothing, he thanked Notch that he saw nothing. That feeling of being watched weighed on him again and he picked up his pace and sprinted as fast as he could through the woodlands. He couldn't run back, not until the watched feeling was gone.

The pressure of the deepest part of the woods was getting thicker; meaning the air was getting thinner while it took more energy to move forward. Steve couldn't understand this fear overcoming him, it gnawed at the back of his head and filled him with dread. "Something …definitely is...isn't right with t…these woods." Steve lowly gasped in his run, his chest was getting heavier and his deep breaths were doing him little to help the oxygen flow. His eyes continued to dart back and forth and he even took another glance behind, but it was a mistake and he regretted looking away from his path as the path disappeared from underneath his feet.

Steve cried out as he fell from a small five block cliff and rolled down a tree-covered hill through the foliage, he soon came to a halt after rolling into an oak. The boy coughed when he collided with it, small tears trekked down his face as he leaned up from the ground. The boy grimaced silently and clutched onto his stomach after slowly after using the tree to help him stand, he clung onto the wood from the dizziness he had. Pain buzzed from his right shoulder, he was bound to have a large bruise on his side and arm from his tumbling into the bark of the oversized plant. He moved forward on his shaking feet, the impact had rattled his whole body and it had him feeling weak from the quivering of his entire pained form. Steve moved away from his stopping point and carefully leaned down to scoop up his two items that he had let go after bumping into the oak. After that he stumbled forward some more, still to afraid to look or go back. He turned his head away from the cliff he rolled down and then straight ahead. His eyes went wide with shock and he stopped moving immediately, he was froze from the scene before him. A pool of blood was at his heels and it wasn't his.

Swallowing a bit of fear; Steve moved around the tree that blocked out his view, following the sting of red drops at his feet. Once he made it around the thick trunk he halted and remained absolutely silent and still after seeing the bloody form lying in front of him. It was a body. He didn't even know what to think but sadness and wonder as he looked closely at the corpse, he had never seen a dead person before; at least not with his own two eyes. Zombies and skeletons didn't count. The guy did appear to be dead though and he assumed that after seeing a gaping hole in the center of the man's chest, he could only wonder what made it and if was caused it was still around. This made the kid look around in fright for a moment, thankfully; he didn't see or hear anything; though that feeling of being watched still lingered.

He started to feel bad and a bit sick as he cautiously approached the dead man. He wondered who would kill an innocent man, sadness filled the little boy as he stopped within a block of the downed human. Blood had pooled around the man and the source of the blood came from the lesion that seeped down his stained cyan shirt, dyeing the fabric a nasty brown-reddish color. 'He must have died a slow and painful death?' Steve thought with a heavy heart, he didn't like what he saw. He always wondered if he'd see a deceased body and now he did, the kids in his class at school were wrong; dead bodies weren't cool.

The man's face was hidden. A green cloak covered his face and shoulders, he was leaning against an oak tree with his head drooped towards his chest in a lifeless manner to conceal his face even more. After staring for a moment; He appeared to be tall and strong with the appearance of the well-built muscles in his visible arms, sort of like his adoptive father's but more toned. The man's whole body seemed built tough and strong but not overly built like a few of the brawny showoff jarheads at the village.

"What could have done this?" He asked quietly as laid both his sword and torch down. Steve then cautiously moved to the left side of the dead man and inched closer to get a look at the man's face, it was mostly curiosity driving him to see it. He wanted to see if what his classmates said were true; that some people die with their eyes open. This was a once and a lifetime opportunity so why not take it? Steve softly grabbed onto the hood and pulled it back, he huffed quietly as the green fabric easily pulled over the man's head and revealed finely cut brown hair. Gulping in nervousness from the idea of touching a dead body; Steve kneeled down a bit and placed a hand on the man's cheek to move it. He gasped when he felt warmth radiating through the skin, tiny pulses of life beat ever so softly beneath his fingertips. The pulse immediately sped and beat more wildly in a second's time of touching the skin.

This man wasn't dead.

Suddenly, a hand moves up and quickly clamps onto the boy's arm tightly. It moved so fast that the kid didn't even see it coming before it was too late. With fright; the boy immediately stood and tried to pull back but was surprised with how strong and solid the grip was, it was way stronger than Derrick's and it was more tight too; so much that it was painful. Steve grunted in his efforts for freedom, he twisted and yanked his arm to himself to wrench himself free but was completely unsuccessful to move from the firm iron grip. "Let go let go let go let go…" The boy plead quietly. "Please? … Please let go." He whimpered quietly. Steve gasped and gaped in horror as the man slowly lifted his head, his eyes were closed. "Who-" Steve croaked but he couldn't find the courage to ask the rest of the question as the man's head slowly turned towards him.

The man's eyes shot open in an instant, revealing glowing blank eyes.

…

A/N: So what did you guys think? Like? Dislike? I don't know if I'll continue? You tell me if you want more but it'll be a slower update if I do. Hero's Bane is my priority, the one-shot for QC33 is next, and MineCrash and 57 Under are on Hiatus. I may work on the next chapter of Binds That Tie soon. Don't know yet, I have a very busy work schedule and my commute gets me home late towards nighttime so I barely have time to do much. After I get home; I get 4 hours before bedtime so updating stories quickly like I wish to can't happen.

So review and tell me what you think and if you want more. I have a general direction to take it, let me know if I should continue? :D