Hey ya'll, it's Enderdeath! I hope you're having a great day, but I don't know if I'll make it any better with this new chapter... So yeah. This chapter has 1,245 words. NOTE: I do not own Mianite, any YouTubers mentioned, Minecraft, and really, I don't own anything except the idea. ALSO: I am not claiming the real Declan actually deals with this sort of thing, nor do I; this is purely fantasy.

Chapter 4

Dec swung the pickaxe down yet again, the netherrack crumbling to red and black grains. In a short amount of time, he had cleared out a little cave, perfect for hiding out. He poked his head back into the hot, dry air of the nether, leaving the relative coolness of his little temporary home for a few seconds.

He blinked, the gritty air stinging his eyes. Dec crawled back into the cave, dragging his rucksack filled with all his supplies. He piled up Nether grit in front of the entrance to his little cave, packing it closely and tightly to make sure it would not be easy for anyone to break in and find him.

Yes. Dec had run away and was hiding in the nether. Irony at its finest, really, since the humans saw him as Mianite's priest, not Dianite's. It made no sense, but strangely enough, the Nether was the only place where Dec felt… safe.

Dec pulled a blanket out of his rucksack, spreading it over a portion of the gravelly floor. He placed down a torch and lit it, illuminating the area. Asides from water and his dagger, which still remained in the rucksack, that was the extent of Dec's provisions.

So finding nothing else to do in his new cavern home, Dec stretched out on the blanket, falling asleep quickly in the sweltering heat.

The sound of something's rattling breath jolted Dec awake, and he narrowed his eyes, wondering what was making that noise. He dug out the netherrack gravel and peered outside, breaking into a smile when he saw Asandi floating in front of him. The blaze's flaming rods moved up and down in a mesmerizing way, but the smoke just about covered them.

"Declan?" Asandi spoke. "What are you doing here? Why are you hiding?"

"Hey Asandi," Dec greeted, not answering the Nether mob's questions.

"I asked you a question," Asandi huffed. "Why are you hiding in the Nether?"

"The overworld holds no promise for me," Dec sighed. "No one needs me around so I left."

"Why would you say no one needs you?" Asandi tilted his head in a questioning manner. "You're their priest."

"Champwan can converse with the gods as well as I can. And honestly, I have no friends in the overworld," Dec rubbed his left arm. The cuts had healed quickly after Champwan put the medicine on them, leaving nothing but faint white scars.

Asandi noticed the scars and narrowed his eyes. "Have they hurt you, Declan?" Asandi asked. "If they have I will kill them myself."

"No, no," Dec said hurriedly. "You see – I did this. I made these scars."

"Why, Declan?" Asandi sounded confused. "Why did you hurt yourself?"

Dec wasn't sure if he could say anything. Asandi was innocent. He knew the difference between enemy and friend but didn't understand why disagreements or wars happened. He knew the difference between happy and sad, but he didn't know what triggered those particular emotions to rise.

"It's complicated, Asandi," Dec muttered awkwardly, rubbing his arm yet again. "You wouldn't understand."

"I understand you're hurting," Asandi murmured. "I don't need to know about the causes of human emotions to understand that. I'm not a fool, Declan. You treat me like a child, but I'm not. I'm your friend and friends are supposed to help you."

"That's what Champwan said too," Dec closed his eyes. "But I told him he shouldn't try."

Asandi smirked. "I think I know more about humans than you do, Dec. If someone's really your friend, then they'll all they can to help you."

"I know, Asandi," Dec sighed. "And that's exactly why I left."

XxX

Dec studied his dagger, turned it over and over in his hands. He glanced at his arm, the scars already completely healed over.

"Like a painting that's been washed off its canvas," Dec grunted, rolling over to lie on his back. The blanket he had brought was thick and soft; quite comfortable to lie on. "But I suppose comfort doesn't matter in this desolate place."

It had been a few hours since Dec's conversation with Asandi, and his stomach was growling with hunger. Dec blinked, trying to ignore the feeling. He hadn't brought any food with him; only water.

He sat up and opened his bottle of water, wincing at the acrid taste it now held from being in the Nether. It tasted like ash but he drank eagerly, the liquid not satisfying his hunger for food.

Dec sighed, closing his water bottle and lying back down. Maybe he should just sleep for a while. But he wasn't tired; not yet.

So Dec did the only other thing he could do.

He picked up the dagger with his left hand, and positioning the blade just below his right shoulder, drove it halfway to its hilt into his flesh.

Dec gasped in pain, not realizing the force in which he had shoved the dagger into his arm. He squeezed his eyes shut, forcing his trembling hand to etch a shape deep into his skin.

Many tears and much agony later, Dec lay sobbing on the ground, blood streaming down from his arm and pooling on the floor of the little Nether cave. A skull had been carved deep into Dec's upper arm, and the dagger that had done it was resting right beside Dec's hand from where it had fallen.

Dec shuddered, agony washing over his arm and resonating all through his bones. The bleeding wasn't stopping and the scarlet liquid was only pouring out faster. The gritty netherrack shifted under Dec as a spasm of pain overtook him. He writhed on the ground, crying out. He begged for someone to help him, to end his pain. He called upon Mianite, who had rejected him. He called upon Ianite, who was imprisoned and could not appear to him even if she wished so. And in a moment of desperation, Dec, tears running down his face, pleaded for Dianite to come and kill him.

Finally, Dec opened his eyes and looked around. He couldn't even summon up the energy to yelp in fear when he saw a dark red figure kneeling by his side, with horns curling from its head and a devil's tail wrapped around its legs.

"Lord Dia - Dianite," Dec whispered hoarsely, closing his eyes again. "If you have any m - mercy, end my life now."

"I cannot do that," Dianite's voice was soft, and surprisingly very gentle. Dec shakily opened his pain-shrouded eyes, staring at the Nether god. Dianite's face was twisted into a sorrowful expression, something that was beyond strange for the god.

"P - please!" Dec gasped through gritted teeth as another wave of biting pain racked his body. "It – it's too deep. My life will only be ag - agony until I die of bl- blood loss. I – I can't do this anymore." Dec wailed suddenly, pain shrouding his vision and seizing his heart.

Dec, no longer able to see through a haze of blood red, felt Dianite's hand on his forehead. It was strangely as cold as ice.

"Sleep," Dianite whispered. Dec almost screamed aloud. Dianite wasn't going to kill him – he was going to let Dec suffer through nightmares in his final days.

"Why?" Dec murmured, his consciousness fading rapidly. "Wh - why wouldn't you kill m - me?"

"Declan," Dianite's soothing voice reached his ears as the priest fell into the spell induced sleep. "I am your father."

Oh noes... Dec has gone too far... will he die of blood loss like he said?

Random Observation: *Braces self* I know it... the feels are coming... as is the hate...

(seanmoran)3557: #Dianiteisthebestpickleever

TheAmazingQwerty: Dec really needs a friend right now!

Ianitethecookie: Yes! Dianite! Star wars quote!

RusYRP: Thank you!

DiamondScribe: I think this chapter will have just torn your heart out of your body...