A Warm and Beautiful Minecraft Night
A man of courage and bravery, a man whose morals were right and just, a man of diligence. This was the man who sat upon his scarlet bed, his trusted blade, polished bluer than the open sea, whose blade of glistening blue does naught but capture the eye, sat gloriously upon his lap. His cottage of brick and wood sat smugly upon the hillside. Night had just fallen, emitting a cool yet subtle darkness about the house. The torches upon the wall cast a dim, soothing light. His day's travels had worn him. The journey to find food and wood so he can continue on his journey had left him tired and longing for his plush bed. He sat his items down upon the crafting table and pondered about his day. He glided to the window of red brick with its glass clear as the finest crystal. He leaned on the window sill, feeling the sharp pricks of the mortar that had settled between the gaps of the bricks. He gazed out upon the land of oaks and rivers. The ebony sky, littered with billions of twinkling little pearls drew in his wandering eyes. He could see the faint glow of the moon behind the clouds, its soft plaster glowing gently and beautiful, causing a faint misty glow about the clouds. The trees, their soft rustling so faint and distant, swayed in the gentle wind. He could see spiders below, their red eyes emitting an eerie, mysterious glow. They scampered among the other night dwelling creatures, leaving behind nothing to show their ever existence. The skeletons, whose majestic bow sought out anything that stood in their paths, strode around, searching for their next victim. The creepers, whose damned explosions create gaping holes about the earth, were creeping about the soil, scanning for the next poor soul to reap. Adrift the mobs sauntered the poor damned souls, neither alive nor dead. Their skins were rotting off as they trudged about, unable to die; waiting for the morning to come to set them off on their way to the Aether world. He took all this in as he prepared himself for bed. He stepped away from the window to prepare his bed, thinking of tomorrow's journey. He lay down in the soft bed and let his eyes slowly drift shut. As the man started to drift into his soft slumber, the door to his cottage silently cracked open. A man came to his bedside, a blade of unforgiving steel grasped in his unwavering hands. He grabbed a pillow and with a fluid motion equaling that of only the most silky stream could match, the white eyed man covered his mouth and brought the blade down into his chest.