"Who the Nether are you?" The man woke to a female voice. He tried to attack out of surprise, but quickly found he couldn't move. He opened his eyes and saw he was tied up. He spotted an oddly familiar young woman with blonde hair standing a few blocks away with a torch. A piece of string ran from his bindings over to her. She held the torch threateningly close to the string. "I said," The woman glared at him, "who are you."

"Where am I?" He asked, extremely confused. Last thing he remembered was talking to his pregnant wife about their unborn child. "Where's Em? What have you done to her?" He struggled.

"Calm. Down. I have no idea who the slime-faced-pig it is you're talking about." The woman insulted Em so causally. The man grew angry.

"Em is my wife, you dirt-under-the-void!" He yelled at her, trying harder to break the string.

"No. I will not set him on fire. Leave me alone." The woman suddenly muttered to herself. The man froze, ending all struggle. This woman was insane, and she wanted to burn him to death. The best thing he could hope to do was stay still and hope she forgot about him.

"I don't know who he is! What if he's important? What if killing him could start a war?" She paused as if listening to someone talk. "I don't know! I don't go out much! How am I supposed to know who starts wars? I was only in one, and we clearly knew who the enemy was then!" Definitely crazy. Living in a cave, talking to herself, and imagining a war? He had heard of no such battle, but he was sure if one had actually happened he would know, people really liked to talk about any type of suffering.

"Can you blame me? I was fourteen, and you had to barge into my head!" Another pause, she seemed to get angry. "And it's your fault in the first place! If you had just been patient, I wouldn't even be in this mess!" The woman punched the stone wall, and hissed in pain when she pulled it away to find her knuckle slightly bloody.

He looked around for anything for anything that could cut his binds. The only thing he saw was a lump a few blocks away. His blood turned cold, it was a dead man; fresh if the lack of smell was anything to go by. He was going to be next. He knew it. His wife would spend years wondering what happened to him as she raised their children. Then, one night, zombies would finally break down the door and they would all be eaten.

He felt on the ground behind him for anything that might be able to cut the string. He held back a triumphant smile when his hand landed on a pointy rock.

The strange woman hadn't stopped talking to herself in the time it took for those thoughts to run through his mind. "Just shut up! Everything bad that's happened to me has been your fault! Okay, maybe that one time it was mine, but you made me destroy my hand! Do you know how much that hurt? And sometimes it gets itchy!" She turned and he saw a stump where her hand was supposed to be. Voices that made her hurt herself. His day was just getting better and better.

"Yeah, yeah. I know complaining won't help anything, but it definitely makes me feel less like punching you." She glanced at the air, as if someone was standing there, but quickly looked away. "No, All. I will not punch you. No matter how much I want to. I know what you're doing. No. I refuse to continue this conversation."

The woman looked at him once again. "You haven't answered my question yet."

"I'm Charlie, ma'am. Er- are you okay?" He decided distracting her with conversation would be the safest way to distract her until he freed himself.

She tilted her head and studied Charlie. "It depends on what you define as 'okay'."

"Well, maybe talking about it would make you feel better," he said.

"Heh, you wouldn't believe me. You'd think I'm crazy, too." She shook her head and leaned against the stone wall, slowly sliding down it until her bottom hit the ground.

"Try me," Charlie challenged. Her blue eyes scrutinized him deeply, as though she were attempting to find his deepest secrets. Fortunately, (or unfortunately, depending on who you were) no amount of staring could give her any knowledge on who he was.

The young woman sighed, and brought her knees up to her chest, making her look small and vulnerable. "When I was young, I was picked on; a lot. I could see things, things no one else even knew they were there. And when I grew angry, I spoke strangely, and none could decipher what I said, no matter how hard they tried.

"On my fourteenth birthday, everyone found out that the monsters were real. The monsters had been created by Herobrine, a God that no one knew existed. A Goddess, Ender, who had been asleep for centuries, had awoken, and wished to take revenge. So she attacked any and all villages she could find, including my own. The Two, Notch and Herobrine, were not happy about this, and they brought all the Minerafters together to wage war on the Goddess. They won, thankfully. But not without suffering heavy losses. Herobrine, along with Ender, had died. But not permanently we found out three years later though, that they had lived somehow. But Ender had gone insane and killed herself."

Charlie froze. How did this woman know of the Forgotten and Sleeping? He bindings had snapped in the middle of her story, but he had held the ends tight to make sure it looked like he was still bound, he had to wait until she wasn't looking, he didn't know what she was capable of. He watched her, she seemed so helpless, curled up against the wall. He couldn't help but feel bad for her.

"I had distracted Ender during the first fight," the woman continued, "as a reward they gave me a seat on their council. Heh. Some reward it turned out to be." She sniffled. "I lost a close friend when Ender lost her mind."

"I'm sorry for your loss." Charlie said somberly. She stared at the wall, seemingly lost in thought. "But do you know of a man named Jeb?"

"He's my ancestor, Ender's first Caretaker." The woman replied. She didn't even look like she noticed she had said anything.

Charlie felt his heart squeeze. He had a feeling he knew why she was familiar."What's your mother's name?"

"Ember. Why?" The woman snapped out of her daze at the odd question, and she tensed.

Charlie stood in wonder. It couldn't be a coincidence, the woman had Em's facial features, and his hair. "Max?" He stepped towards her. He only had time to notice the dead man was no longer on the floor before he felt pain hit the back of his skull.

Hmmm. That's exciting. It seems we have a new character. Or did he die from that hit to his head? Sorry for any mistakes, I was a bit rushed to finish this before another day passed.

Two reviews for six chapters? That makes me sad. Review please!