Here's a Minecraft oneshot for my Headcanon Herobrine XD.
"Cause I keep runnin' runnin' runnin'..."- Runnin' by Adam Lambert
His feet pounded across the ground as he fled from the only home he once knew. Despite the exhaustion creeping up on him, he kept running. His breaths hitched as tears streamed down his soot and dirt covered face. He furiously wiped them off. Even though his diritied brown hair was short, it still was disheveled and tangled, filled with dust and soot.
How long the thirteen year old ran, he didn't remember. He just wanted to get away. Away from that monster. Away from the one who had ruined his life.
He hadn't realized everything could change so quickly. That one day, his father would snap, and he would lose everything. Honestly? He should have seen it coming. How could he be so stupid? How could he be so foolish? He should have known…
But I'm just a child…I couldn't have known…
One side of his brain whispered. But it was too quiet for him to hear. He shouldn't have hoped that his father would change. He shouldn't have been so blind and naive. He shouldn't have cared.
His feet slowed to a stop as exhaustion finally won, and the adrenaline wore off. He slumped down against a tree and hugged his legs, hiding his face.
His father would have betrayed the family eventually. Then blamed it on him. He was always the scapegoat. It was inevitable. It was bound to happen, so why did it affect him like this now? Several small hiccups came from the child as he failed to block the sobs from his throat.
Stop crying. You shouldn't cry. This was going to happen from the start. You had your chance. Don't act so weak…
But sobs broke through anyway. He hated it. Hated the fact that this is when his mask breaks. When he breaks. He cried for a while. He felt so lost and vulnerable. What if someone saw his weakness? What would they do? Would they punish him?
In the corner of his blurry vision, he spotted red fabric. The royal cloak; or at least, what was left of it, lay partially on the ground. Anger burned in his heart. Within seconds, he ripped it off, the button in the front coming undone easily. Angry tears burned his eyes. Hatred of his father engraved itself on his heart.
He slowly stood up, and holding his injured shoulder, he limped off, leaving the cloak, and his title, behind.
"Ain't no crying till the war's done…" -Ain't no crying by Derivakat
204 years later...
His signature diamond sword glinted in the light as he rotated it in his hands, deep in thought. His hair was much longer, longer than ear length, but not quite chin length. It still covered part of his face as he looked downward at the blade, peering at the reflection. His recognizable white eyes held many years of pain and suffering, and scars lie on his arms and face.
The black, leather, fingerless gloves hid the scars on his hands. The dark blue, tattered cloak he wore was a strong contrast to the red he had once worn.
Time had certainly changed the ex prince; into someone who was thought of as nothing but a monster, a killer, a thief. He never told anyone how much he hated these accusations. How false they were. He scoffed. Not like anyone would listen anyway.
He wouldn't cry about it though. He no longer did. It wouldn't do much of anything for him; it would only show weakness. These are the cards he had been dealt. There was no point in trying to change fate. No point in trying to play different cards. No matter how much he wanted it to change.
He was alone, sure, but he was happy with that. He was fine with that. One less person to take care of. One less to have to split resources with. One less person to slow him down.
The day his father had snapped was engraved into his mind. It was a little over 200 years ago, but he remembered every detail. Every single one. That's what trauma would do to a young mind, like his had once been.
Ever since that day, years had passed, each one excruciatingly long. Each one made him tougher and stronger. Each one hardened his emotions and painted another layer over his cracked mask. Only stories of him existed now. Many of those stories, if not all of them, were merely rumors; tales that children would hear around the fire.
Some knew he was real; they had seen him before. Others suspected he might be real, and others believed he was only a fairytale made to scare children.
However, you may know the stories as: The Legend of Herobrine
"Since I met him, he carries more anger and pain than a thousand armies could ever bear. He was betrayed, deceived, hurt. Believe me when I say he has already crossed hell. And the only time I saw peace in his eyes was when someone finally listened. When someone finally cared enough." -Galaxy Star
"Damaged people are dangerous. They know how to make hell feel like home." -Herobrine
So here's this one. I wrote this a while ago and I know it's short, but I wanted to get this one posted XD. I still have more Fics coming, specifically for Underworld Office, and I'm working on Ninjago: Shadows still.
Anyways, this is a reminder to go get water/food and take care you yourself!