Sorry my posts have been so sporadic lately, here's an extra long chapter to make up for it! "Buried" should be the one that gets updated next, unless I get sidetracked again... :)

Shock

"You always stay out too late. You could be home by now, tucked up in bed, but no. You had to go out looking for freaking spawners." The young blonde man hit an overhanging branch in frustration, only to have it rebound and fly straight back in his face. "Notch damn it!" Wincing, he rubbed at the fresh welt under his eye, stinging and raw from the sharp blow.

There wasn't the faintest hint of light on the horizon now, no sign of the golden sun that always kept the mobs away. Trees, no more than slight outlines in the oppressive gloom, reached out to him with skeletal fingers as he brushed past them, the knotted bark twisted like the gaping mouths of the dead. Every slight shift in the tangled undergrowth set him on edge, tense, alert, all too aware of his iron sword's dwindling durability. It had seen a lot of action today; The man was a warrior by nature, not one inclined to run from a fight, so in a land riddled with mobs he tended to use up swords pretty quickly. Still, even with all his soldier's courage, it was always a daunting task to walk the country paths at night.

"For Aether's sake, get it together Ridan."

His shoulders had slumped over in exhaustion, back hunched, eyes drooping, doggedly straining to put one foot in front of the other. The last skeleton spawner he had destroyed had really taken the fight out of him. Ridan could still feel the sharp wrenching pain of the silver arrows entering his lower back; Thank Notch for healing potions.

The town wasn't too far away now, the uneven gravel pathway leading towards his home appearing in the darkness. More worryingly though, he could hear the telltale heavy footfall of mobs drawn in by the artificial lights and the tantalising smell of human flesh. No one else was going to dispose of them, Ridan supposed. At least they weren't too close to the town walls, so he could deal with the tiresome undead as quickly as possible then retire for a good night's rest.

He scanned his immediate surroundings with a practised eye, searching for hostiles hiding amongst the trees. Not for the first time, he wished he'd had the foresight to stash a couple of night vision potions in his inventory, but he hadn't planned on staying out after dusk. Next time, Ridan said to himself, he would be more prepared.

There. In the gloom, between the bowed birch trunks, a stooped figure lurked. Driven by no more than the basest of animalistic desires, with no higher brain function present, these mindless "zombies" only cared about one thing. Fresh meat.

Without further hesitation, the decaying corpse shambled forwards, arms out as if impatient to sate it's desires. Ridan calmly drew his sword once more, and severed the thing's spinal cord with one powerful swing. It's lifeless body fell to the earth, only to be replaced by another. He slammed his heavy boot into it's chest, toppling it over, then driving his blade straight through it's chest. A small spurt of semi-congealed blood dribbled fourth from the jagged laceration, causing Ridan to avert his eyes in disgust. A glint of silver sped past his face and he whirled to face a bleach-white skeleton, empty eye sockets brimming with malicious shadows. Ridan wasted no time in drawing a small dagger from his hip and slamming the point into the domed stretch of chipped skull.

"Damnit!" Ridan swore colourfully, trying and failing to retrieve his knife from the skeleton's forehead. What was wrong with him today? A simple strike with the hilt of his sword would have done, but now he'd lost his favourite dagger. He gazed sadly down at the worn, jeweled hilt for a little longer before movement in the obscurity distracted him. A female undead, white-skinned and pallid, face twisted into a venomous scowl, lurched forward on unsteady legs toward him, heedless of the blade he wielded. Ridan felt a small stab of pity for the pathetic creature, but all pity soon vanished when she lashed out at him with her long nails, scoring several deep scratches down his forearm.

"Son of a bitch!" He viciously lashed out at her stupid, dribbling face, rending her in two. His leather trousers were splashed with crimson, sword dripping red in the bleak half-light. Ridan bent over, and once again tried to remove his dagger from the skeleton's forehead, but it was stuck fast.

"Freaking mobs."

A warning hiss resounded from behind him, but he had no time to turn. Instinct took over; Forgetting his sword, Ridan covered his head with his arms as a powerful explosion threw him against a sturdy oak trunk. His focus was shot; He could hear nothing but a high-pitched whistle in his ears, could feel nothing except the rough bark against his back. Groggily, he managed to sit up, brushing the leaves from his hair. How could he have been so stupid? Turning his back like that - it was such a noobish mistake. At least the creeper's explosion seemed to have frightened off any other mobs nearby, as well as hurling him far away down a small decline.

Shakily, Ridan stood. He hadn't been thrown too far from the gravel path, but it would be a struggle to climb the embankment nonetheless. His first step was unsteady; reaching out a hand to support himself, his questing fingers met something warm and wet, running down the side of a tree. Blood. Was it his? After a quick check, Ridan was assured that it was not. But the mysterious liquid couldn't be from the mobs he had killed, as the battle had taken place several metres away and zombie blood was mostly congealed. They didn't bleed much, and definitely not like this. Curious, Ridan squinted into the half-light and made out a shaky trail of crimson leading off into the darkness. Had someone been injured out here? It was very possible, and Ridan briefly considered walking away and pretending he hadn't seen anything. But no, he couldn't. Whether it was his natural caring nature, or simply instinct to help another of his kind, he started to follow the trail deeper into the woods.

The line of blood didn't go far. Soon enough, Ridan came to a small freshly-collapsed crater in the earth, the result of weakened soil above a cave giving way. Sprawled out inside was a man, twisted, unconscious, chest heaving as he struggled to suck in a laboured breath. A single ragged, gruesome gash had almost torn his chest right open; the stranger was lying in a sick pool of his own blood. The injury didn't look like the work of mobs - it was too precise, too perfect. That could only mean one thing.

'He' was nearby.

Instinctively, Ridan crouched down closer to the ground, frantically looking around for any sign of the white-eyed man of legend. Strange. There was nothing - no mobs, no mad, sadistic laughter, no monster. Nothing.

Ridan made his way cautiously down the side of the cavity, ever wary of hidden traps or tricks. To his great surprise, the warrior reached the wounded man unscathed; Surely 'He' was close, so why would Herobrine pass up this great opportunity? And why was the stranger still alive?

"Well, I guess He's not around then…?" Careful of the wound, Ridan hoisted the man up onto his shoulder. As loath as he was to move anyone in this condition, he couldn't just leave the victim to die. Sighing, Ridan began the long trek back up the incline to the village, all the while looking out for roaming mobs. He prayed he would not run into any more tonight, as he was in no position to do battle now.

They watched the blonde stranger pick their master up and turn towards the town, grunting slightly with the effort. It was… unexpected. They'd been ready to slay the human who'd dared to approach their leader, but it seemed the mortal's intentions had not been malicious after all. In fact, their master might even recover quicker in the creature's intelligent care.

The mobs decided to do nothing.

For now.

"What am I going to do with you, then?" Ridan asked the comatose man sprawled out on his spare bed. White bandages now adorned his torso, but thick crimson beads still seeped through and pooled on the floor. Ridan wasn't sure how the stranger was still alive, he had lost so much blood. He was curious as to how the man had gotten himself into this state, but his questions would have to wait until his guest woke up. Sighing, the blonde turned away and flipped a lever to turn out the lights, thinking to return in the morning check on the stranger's condition. Scratching at the fresh cuts on his arm, he went to leave, but-

"The Nether?" Ridan lived a little way away from the rest of the village, so no street lights shone through into his rooms. But when he turned the lights out, the bedroom was still slightly illuminated by a pale white glow. Where was it coming from? He frowned in confusion, turning back to the man on the bed.

The light was-

No-

Rushing back to the bedside, ridan reached a trembling hand towards the victim's face, peeling back one pale eyelid. What he saw made Ridan stagger back against the wooden wall in astonishment, hastily drawing his sword and leveling the tip at the motionless figure.

The eyeball, once again hidden beneath the lid, was a pure, glowing white.