Don't own Minecraft or 1000 Ways to Die. That'd go to (Notch, his friends, Mojang, and affiliate companies) and Spike TV, respectively.
Alright, that Guest review gave me a run for my money. XD And that's what I love! A challenge. So, mystery reviewer, let's see if my work is up to your snuff.
The corrupted man sat on a legendary floating island of sand, as that had been where his latest endeavors had taken place. He enjoyed absorbing the ambient energy of a job well done.
Toasty growled. It had been a particularly eventful evening, and now his sword was nearing its limit. He'd have to find another one soon.
Toasty glanced at his fracturing stone sword. Cracks were forming, and he suspected his sword wouldn't survive another blow. He knew he should have melted down that iron helmet to make an iron sword, but it had to disappear mysteriously with the zombie that took it. Just his luck.
His sword had tasted plenty of blood that evening. It had been a cold night, and he entered the house of a pair of lovers. Even when Toasty politely threatened to slice them to strings, they still refused to give him hot food and milk.
So, naturally he killed them, and fulfilled his promise. He reminisced about the wife's screams for mercy as her husband was dying in front of her... ah, good times.
After the murder mini-spree, he stole what he'd asked for in the first place, then lit the house on fire. It wasn't particularly difficult; the house was in a desert, overlooking a plantation filled with watermelons, pumpkins, cacti, wheat, carrots, sugarcane, and potatoes.
The dry air let a fire start rather easily, and while he'd only meant to burn the bodies beyond what forensic science could detect, the fire quickly escalated into a blazing inferno. The flames consumed the house, and Toasty happily watched from outside, admiring the entropic nature of the flames' movement and shape.
Only ashes, a strange book, an iron helmet, and his forgotten stone sword remained. A zombie arrived on the scene soon enough, attracted by the once-pluming smoke. It put on the iron helmet, and only Toasty's agility allowed him to escape with the book and the sword in hand.
He cursed the zombie silently, before sitting down and overlooking the plantation. And there was where he began to remember the night, and mourn the imminent death of his trusty sword. Toasty sighed and laid the sword on the ground next to him.
He examined the book, and felt a slight bump inside. Toasty opened the book. A black quill lay in there, separating the already used pages from those still available.
Toasty tilted his head in confusion. The book was a story, and a rather vivid one, depicting an evil marauder pillaging towns and terrorizing the locals.
Toasty smiled; seemed like they could have gotten along, had the character been real. He read on and reached a chapter where the main character entered a house made by two lovers, looking for sustenance.
The thief closed the book and laid it upon the sword. Then he realized the book glowed in the moonlight, its leather binding shining with a mystical luminance only magic could give.
The book was enchanted. Toasty grunted as his loot turned out to be more valuable than he'd originally thought. He sat on the edge of the island, still looking at the vegetation down below. It wasn't far enough down to kill from fall damage, but was certainly enough for a debilitating fall.
Toasty rolled into the shadows as he heard a soft sequence of footsteps from behind. He looked to see a creeper, softly walking along, enjoying a midnight stroll with its new iron helmet.
The thief gasped; that was the same iron helmet the undead had stolen from him. Therefore, the helmet belonged to Toasty. Yet he couldn't very well just go and take it. That creeper would kill him before he'd lay a finger on the iron.
Toasty devised a plan, foolproof in his eyes. He'd rush up, slam the pommel of his sword into the creeper's head to stun it, grab the helmet, and kick the creeper away as it lit up to explode. Foolproof. And it'd be the amazing final duty his loyal sword would finish.
As the thief rushed up to attack and act on his plan, strange events began to unfold.
He raised his sword to strike the creeper with the pommel, when a bat swooped down and slammed into the flat of the sword. The sword being in its deteriorated state, it broke and left the thief with nothing to hit with.
Toasty realized this far too late, and simply hit the creeper with the bottom of his fist. The creeper turned, annoyance clear on its already unhappy face. It walked forward, but upon quick contemplation, realized it did not want to die, for even though it would respawn, it would have lost its awesome head gear.
The creeper mimicked its own countdown sequence, but had no plans to die that night. It still walked forward, scaring the thief further and further towards the edge.
The creeper then realized it knew exactly what it had to do. Noticing its terrain and the slight variation that the thief didn't notice gave the mob the upper hand, and it smiled on the inside.
To Toasty, the creeper started to tap the sand. Toasty laughed; evidently the creeper was getting impatient.
The creeper then leered freely at its opponent, as the sand underneath its feet gave way, sparking a chain reaction all around the green mob. The sand fell down to the ground, taking Toasty with it.
Toasty called hacks as he fell to the ground, wincing as he realized that sand would provide no cushion.
Toasty didn't need to worry about cushioning; he landed on a cactus, and his fall lead to it squishing under him, letting all the spines enter his body. Nonetheless, Toasty survived but screamed in pain.
Then all the cacti around him toppled, as his impact had led to a strong vibration in the ground. Most of them fell right on top of him, and dug their spines into his body.
Far above, the creeper smiled as it crouched on the sole sandstone block high above. It dived off, landing in the water feeding the plants. It walked off, happy with its loot and revenge.
Soon, the plantation owner came outside and was surprised to find a dead man among his precious cacti. He called over the authorities, who then called a doctor to help identify the cause of death for their report.
The doctor arrived, fully garbed in black. The sun only hit his face, as the doctor wore leather gloves.
After inspecting the body and the surrounding area, he gave his suspicion as to the cause of death.
"Clearly, the cactus killed him. From behind, cacti wiggled between his vertebrae, and in front the cacti were not squished, so their spines were still longer. They pierced his heart and lungs, among other vital organs. As to how he got here...
"Interestingly," the doctor continued. "I suspect that he fell from quite a great height, although not high enough to kill on impact. That speck way up there would have to be some sort of sandstone, by its color and the fact it refuses to fall like all the sand around here."
The authorities looked around; indeed, there was plenty of sand corrupting the nice farmland. "So, what does the sand have to do with the man?"
"It fell with him on top from that height. More than likely, that sandstone is what remains of a long-lost island of pure sandstone. The winds at that elevation likely eroded the sandstone into sand, thus why it most likely stayed up there. Yet this man must have disturbed the sand enough to cause it to fall, and him with it."
The doctor walked over and picked up a mysterious book, untouched by the sand. It still had a quill inside.
So that was fun. I hope you liked it, and I'll try hard to make any suggestions come true. Of course, sometimes it won't happen, and I'm sorry to say that. Luckily, this time I could, so there's that.
Thanks for reading!