Chapter 4
THUD.
Dr. Goodman jolted upright, her heart pounding in her ears. What was that!? What was going on!? Her eyes flicked towards the windows and doors of her apartment while the sleep cleared from her vision. Nothing was broken or busted in, so her apartment wasn't being robbed. What made that sound?
Dr. Goodman checked her phone and saw the time was 2:37 AM. She glanced over to her side and saw John sprawled out on the couch, fast asleep. He clearly hadn't been affected by whatever made the noise. She slowly stood up, listening to her back pop like firecrackers. Oof, she was too old to be falling asleep on the couch like this.
Wait, Herobrine! The memories of yesterday came rushing back to her. She whirled around to face him and for a terrifying moment, she thought he was gone. He wasn't gone, though. He was still firmly duct taped to the chair, but now he was on his side and furiously struggling against his restraints. He looked up at her, irritation burning in his white eyes. They maintained eye contact for just a few moments, before Dr. Goodman screamed and scrambled away from him. She accidentally elbowed John in the stomach in her panic, and he shot upright with a cry of pain.
"Ow! What the Nether was that for!" he shouted, glaring at Dr. Goodman. Instead of answering, she just pointed at Herobrine. He took one look, let out another shriek of panic, and leaped behind the couch. He pulled Dr. Goodman behind the couch as well, so they could both peer at Herobrine from behind their barrier.
"Hrezatga aviek! Trev fekrij frikjetka in! Tha jan wibtengjg frivez krij, jank trev fekrij nitjanb!" Herobrine shrieked, thrashing against the duct tape holding him.
Dr. Goodman and John looked at each other with matching expressions of terror. "Thank Notch you thought of the duct tape," Dr. Goodman whispered.
John nodded. "What do we do now, though!? He's going to break out of there eventually!"
"I don't know! I didn't think this far ahead!" Dr. Goodman exclaimed. She looked back at their hostage. "I have some pretty big knives in the kitchen if it comes down to that, but I think we should try communicating with him first."
"Communicate!? How! He's speaking utter nonsense! I think he was in that box for so long it scrambled his brain!"
"It's not nonsense, it's Slyvican," Dr. Goodman explained. "The Common Language you and I are speaking didn't even exist until about six hundred years ago. I can't speak his language, but I can write it. Wait here, I'm going to get my translation guides, a piece of paper, and a pencil."
"You're leaving me ALONE with him!?" John demanded.
"It'll be for, like, two seconds. It'll be fine. If he causes any trouble, just keep duct taping him until he can't anymore." Dr. Goodman stood up and scurried over to her room. John grabbed the roll of tape and pointed it at Herobrine like it was a gun.
Herobrine didn't really take this as a threat, he just scoffed and said, "Teg jaej givweregns jri hibotoank in?"
Dr. Goodman returned shortly with a pen, a notebook, and her bag slung over her shoulder. She sat down on the couch, pulled out one of her books, flipped through it, then started writing something in the notebook. When she finished writing, she pulled the chair upright and set the notebook in his lap. She stepped away and crossed her fingers, praying to the gods that this would work.
The note said, in seemingly random squiggles and shapes, 'Please do not try to kill us, we restrained you for our own safety. We mean you no harm. We cannot communicate with you verbally, but hopefully we can speak this way. Please nod if you understand.'
Herobrine scowled at Dr. Goodman and John, but he nodded. Dr. Goodman cheered. "It worked!"
"Does that mean he's still going to kill us?" John asked nervously.
Dr. Goodman jotted down, 'Do you intend to kill us?' Herobrine looked at the note, hesitated for several seconds as he debated it, then shook his head.
"Uh oh, he hesitated, Sarah. He is definitely going to kill us," John said, looking at her in panic.
'Please don't kill us,' Dr. Goodman wrote.
Herobrine rolled his eyes. "Herb jan zermen rhe jan aether, aviek! Ti ein krij ortko jri ditz trev!" he huffed.
"I think that meant, 'as soon as I'm free, I'm going to kill you,'" John muttered.
"Shut it, John, and grab me the scissors from the kitchen," Dr. Goodman ordered.
John sighed and disappeared into the kitchen for a few moments. He came back with the scissors and glumly handed them to Dr. Goodman. She took them and cut a line through the duct tape, causing it to fall off Herobrine and the chair. The two then quickly stepped back and John flinched hard, expecting the worse.
Herobrine did not attack the two, though. He stood up and peeled off the remaining tape, taking little interest in the two. He then picked up the ballpoint pen to start writing, but was then sidetracked by what a pen actually was. He tried to write with the wrong end, realized it was wrong, flipped it, then was further confused when nothing would happen since the pen tip was clicked inside the pen.
"…here." Dr. Goodman took the pen from him, clicked it, then demonstrated writing with it. She handed it back, and he stared at it in amazement before jotting something down in Slyvican.
'Who are you two?'
"Um, I'm Dr. Sarah Goodman, and this is John Erikson," Dr. Goodman said, gesturing to herself and John. Herobrine blinked at the two, so she simplified it. "Sarah," she said, pointing at herself, then at John. "John."
Herobrine nodded. "Sarah, John," he repeated with a noticeable accent. He pointed at himself. "Herobrine." Sarah and John nodded, though they already knew his name. Herobrine grabbed the pen and wrote, 'Did you two free me?'
"Um… Er," Dr. Goodman stuttered, looking at John. She then took the pen and wrote, 'No, technically not. No one in particular freed you. An excavation team dug you up and transported you to the Stonespire Natural History Museum, where you escaped from.'
Herobrine frowned at what she had written, then wrote, 'How long was I asleep?'
"Oh. Uh…" Sarah exchanged glances with John.
John took the pen and wrote, 'We don't know for sure, but Natqaina has been abandoned for a little under a thousand years, according to our research, but the temple you were found under is much older than that.'
Herobrine just stared at John's writing. He pointed to the word 'thousand' and looked up at them. "Rekin JARGEKS TINEBEG!?" he demanded.
Dr. Goodman hesitated, then nodded. She didn't know exactly what he said, but given the context, she could assume. "Rekin jargeks tinebeg," she repeated.
Herobrine just stared at the word in shock. He slowly backed away, his breathing getting faster and faster. His hands were shaking and the color drained from his face.
"Is… he okay?" John asked.
"If you found out you've been asleep for a thousand years, would you take it well?" Dr. Goodman snapped at him. "Just… give him a moment."
The overhead light began flickering as Herobrine began hyperventilating. Dr. Goodman and John took several steps away as they watched in terror, unable to do anything about this. Herobrine's eyes began to glow brightly, but so did the unusual runes carved into his arms. He gritted his teeth in pain and clenched his fists.
"Herobrine, stop!" Dr. Goodman shouted. Even if he could understand her, though, she doubted he could hear her. Electricity began crackling across his skin and the overhead lightbulb was now flashing.
"Sarah, get down!" John shouted, pulling her behind the couch for protection.
Herobrine suddenly screamed as the runes on his arms started smoking. The lightbulb overhead surged with extra power before bursting, showering the living room in glass shards and bathing the room in darkness.
There was several seconds of silence before Dr. Goodman pulled out her phone and turned on the flashlight. Herobrine was sitting in his chair again with his face buried in his hands. She sighed heavily.
"I'll help you clean up," John offered with a smile.
"I have a better idea actually. If you could pick up some food for us, I would be so grateful. I didn't eat dinner because of all this and I'm starving. There's a Taco Bell down the street that I think is 24-hour, but if not there's a McDonalds a little ways further that definitely is," she said.
"Are you sure you'll be okay being… alone with him?" John aske cautiously. His gaze flicked nervously at Herobrine.
"I'll be fine. I just don't know how much longer I can deal with this on an empty stomach," she said with a small chuckle. "I don't care what you get, maybe about two or three tacos for each of us."
"You wanna get him tacos, too?" John asked with a raised eyebrow.
Dr. Goodman hesitated and jotted something down in Slyvican. She then tapped Herobrine gently on the shoulder, and he looked up at her. She pointed to the note, he read it, then nodded.
"Yeah, let's get him some. Maybe one or two, nothing crazy," she said. "And I don't think we should introduce him to carbonation yet, so something flat to drink."
John nodded. "And what do you want?"
Dr. Goodman hesitated. "I don't know. I don't really care, just ask for no sour cream. I don't really like it."
John nodded. "Alright, I'll be back in about fifteen minutes." He headed out of the apartment, but not before a small glance back at Dr. Goodman that she didn't see.