Gods Don't Bleed: A Minecraft Flash Fiction
For a good work we stone thee not, but for blasphemy because thou, being a man, makest thyself God. -John 10:33
Night was falling. Dim starlight filtered through the windows, subdued by the dying rays of the sun. Walls of stone rose high over the throne of wood, ending in pointed arches in the medieval style, broken with pillars and tall windows. Seated on the throne, a figure in black rested against one armrest, covering a yawn with one hand. He appeared relaxed, not detecting any imminent danger. Slowly, his glowing white eyes began to slide shut.
A zombie peered around a pillar, listening to the braziers crackling and watching the enthroned figure fall asleep. As the light died down, it waited for its chance, growling softly to itself. Gradually, those deadly white eyes dimmed and closed. Now.
The zombie moved swiftly across the floor, picking up speed as it went and then launching itself high into the air, sword raised and bearing down at the venerable sleeping figure. The sound of a blade piercing flesh echoed through the vast chamber.
The zombie fell dead across the armrest of the throne.
Herobrine straightened from his kill, pulling his bloodied pick from the back of the would-be assassin. In the moments before his enemy's sword fell, he had moved from his seat, picking up his pickaxe and spinning behind the zombie with impossible speed. The mob never had a chance.
Turning, Herobrine now saw the scale of the rebellion against him clearly. Before him stood a group of zombies, all armed with iron swords. There were more coming in from where they hid behind the pillars. After witnessing the death of their companion, they decided not to take chances and to attack en mass.
Herobrine regarded the rebels for a moment. He raised his pick, shaking the blood off in one smooth motion, preparing to strike. He appeared to concentrate, narrowing his eyes and focusing at a single point in the room.
Then he vanished from sight.
The zombies shouted voicelessly in surprise as he reappeared in the center of their group, knocking them all off-balance simultaneously. A small shockwave went off, producing a powerful repelling force moving away from Herobrine. The rebels that didn't die outright were thrown backwards, stunned. Realizing the mortal danger, one of the zombies raised its sword and attacked, moving as quickly as it could.
But not fast enough. Herobrine dodged its first slash and came around, beheading the unfortunate rebel and flinging the rest of it away, knocking it into one of its companions. The surprised zombie, encumbered by its headless, and now lifeless, friend, was unable to block Herobrine's powerful downward thrust, ending its life as well.
Another zombie charged, leaping up into the air slashing diagonally with its sword as it twisted to land. Herobrine blocked it with his pick, sending a shower of sparks into the air as he angled the block to allow the zombie to keep his momentum and send it off-balance. The zombie managed to stay upright when it landed and aimed to strike again, but Herobrine ducked underneath the swiping blade and struck the mob hard in the chest, blasting it into the solid stone pillar. Bones cracked audibly as the zombie connected with the stone and fell to the ground, quite dead.
An arrow flew down at Herobrine.
The dark-swathed figure only just moved in time, watching the arrow bury itself in the floor where he only just stood a split second before. Herobrine's head snapped up, locating the source of the arrow. The one who had fired the shot was nocking another arrow already. Herobrine narrowed his eyes, changing his stance. More arrows rained down from above, where a handful of skeletons had been hiding and escaped his notice. Several spiders came into view, outlined in starlight on the windows. So the rebellion went beyond the zombies.
A quick cartwheel saved Herobrine from being pierced by the four arrows that came down. Then the shots began to come faster. He backflipped several times, then redirected his momentum towards the walls, blocking arrows on his pick as he went. Leaping upwards, Herobrine literally ran up the wall, moving fast enough to go up under the arched roof and begin down the other side, planting his pick deeply into the abdomen of a spider and using it as an anchor to flip over and reorient himself. The spider was cast off to the floor, hissing in pain.
Herobrine fell through the air, catching himself on the ornate grille that covered the balconies overlooking the chamber from below the windows. A skeleton faced him, surprised, and hesitated before nocking another arrow. Grinning ever so subtly, Herobrine launched himself off the grille, twisting his body in midair as four arrows flew towards him from four bows on opposite balconies. When he caught himself on the balcony rim on the other side, four skeletons clattered to the floor, slain by each others' arrows.
Another spider launched itself at Herobrine. He raised his pick and batted it away, piercing its body and flinging it down to the hard flagstones below. It screeched once, and was still.
Herobrine released his grip on the balcony rim, landing softly on the ground with his pick still in hand. Another zombie rushed in.
The zombie punched out at Herobrine's head. To the mob's surprise, it hit nothing but air. Herobrine had ducked under the sweeping blow, and then quickly come back up and around, planting his forearm against the zombie's neck. The rebel was trapped with his face slammed into the stone.
More zombies approached. Herobrine switched his stance and threw his pick, sending it spinning end-over-end into the chest of the nearest attacker. As if fueled by an unseen power, the pick plowed on through its first target and continued to strike down several others, moving in a circuit across the chamber.
Herobrine switched his grip on the trapped zombie, holding it in an arm lock rather than a head lock. As another rebel attacked; Herobrine knelt suddenly and struck low with his outstretched leg, tripping the zombie. The one trapped by its arm was thrown up and across his body, rolling over and thudding down on top of its companion. Both zombies were fully stunned by the heavy blow.
Not finished with the unfortunate rebel, Herobrine maintained his grip on the arm of the first zombie, now flipping it again over his head to slam it hard into the ground. The broken and bleeding mob was then thrown into the air, flopping like a deadweight. Herobrine caught it by its legs and swung it around his body, building up momentum and flinging it into the last two zombies. All three fell hard.
Herobrine stepped back, admiring his handiwork.
A fist slammed into his face before he could react.
Flung backwards by the blow, Herobrine struggled to regain control of his movement. As he slid along the floor, he manipulated the friction from his hands and feet to flip over into an upright position. But the Enderman was too fast. Teleporting to catch up with its white-eyed enemy, it planted a second blow to his face, causing him to ram into his throne. After a third lightning blow, the Enderman clamped its clawed hand to Herobrine's throat, grinning wickedly, beginning its deadly battle cry and uttering its most condemning words.
"You are no god"
Of course, Herobrine thought. These mobs were trying to kill him because they denied his rule as their god. They probably thought themselves upon a holy mission- how very quaint.
Herobrine gripped the Enderman's hand with one of his and struggled to reach the sword leaning against the throne that the first attacker had dropped with the other, but it slipped out of reach. The Enderman's battle cry grew more violent, jarring his ears and causing sparks to dance across his vision. He looked the Enderman in the face and briefly closed his glowing eyes.
Then he opened them.
Thinking fast, Herobrine shot his hand through the Enderman's gaping jaws and latched onto the Ender pearl inside. The Enderman screamed in pain, losing its grip on Herobrine. Herobrine, in turn, was able to reach the sword and raise it, running the Enderman through. The creature howled all the louder. Raising his leg, he kicked out hard, sending the Enderman reeling backwards in agony, sword still embedded in its body, the pearl once within it now resting in the hand of its enemy.
Herobrine leaped off of his throne, snatching his still-spinning pick out of the air and going headfirst towards the rebel. His pick struck the dark-skinned body, changing his direction using the Enderman as a fulcrum. The Enderman went high into the air as Herobrine landed on the ground.
Springing into the air and launching off of the stone pillars, Herobrine leaped after the Enderman, coming up alongside the creature, wielding his pick in one hand and the Ender pearl in the other. Slowly turning over in midair, he used the force of his entire body to strike the hilt of the sword, still inside the Enderman, with the back of his pick. The sword was rammed through the rebel's body and into the stone floor below. Still rotating, Herobrine cast the Ender pearl to the ground.
He landed before the Enderman did, retrieving his sword just in time to raise it over his head. The Enderman came down hard directly on the point, screaming in agony as the blade pierced his heart. A shockwave traveled through the room with the force of the impact.
Herobrine allowed his arm to drop under the weight of the corpse, depositing the rebel's body to the ground, eyes glazed white in death. He freed his sword from the body, returning to his throne calmly.
A small trickle of blood dripped down the back of his hand
For a God is invulnerable, being immortal in every way. He does not feel pain, nor does he bleed. -Unknown.
Aha, almost forgot. A quick credits scene here- Thank you, QueenCelina33, for inspiring me to write this little one-shot. ;)
