hello I'm still not dead

so some of you will know this, but others probably have no idea that I'm writing a new fic rn, I've just decided not to start publishing it until it's finished. I'm currently probably 3/5s of the way in or so, at about 40k words. in the meantime, here's a weird little thing that popped into my brain this morning so I wrote it.

Also! I took down part 2 of the yet-unnamed pirate fic because I wasn't satisfied with it and want to work on it more before putting it back up. this chapter will take the place of it, meaning if you left a review on that chapter while signed in it won't let you leave another. uh. please leave reviews anyway lol

Panicked tears stung at Steve's eyes as he darted through the woods, his prize clutched tightly to his chest. He grunted as his bare foot slammed into a rock, causing him to stumble, but he forced himself to catch his balance and keep going.

"There!" A shout came from the trees behind him, and he gasped, pushing himself faster as he clutched the loaf of stale bread in his arms. He was freezing, teeth chattering no matter how much he tried to clamp them together. At least he could barely feel where he'd stubbed his toe. He wanted to slow down, to sit and catch his breath, but he knew if they got their hands on him that they would kill him..

What crime had he committed to be worthy of an execution without trial in the middle of the woods? That of being alive, of course, after his father and mother had passed away several years ago. Steve was one of several orphans in his hometown, one of the older ones, which meant he grew less likely by the day to be treated to the kindness of those around him. So, to keep himself from starving, he had stolen a loaf of bread. And in the winter, after a poor harvest and with little enough food to go around already, such a crime was punishable by death. So, he ran.

Steve's foot caught in a root, and he went down.

The breath was forced out of his lungs as he hit the ground, the loaf flying out of his hands and hitting the ground a few feet away. He froze, lungs heaving as he tried to catch his breath for a moment before he raised his head. The soldiers... they were gone. Where had they gone?

Heart pounding, Steve slowly picked himself up, seeking out the loaf in the sparse light of the moon and brushing the dirt and leaves off of it. His foot was bleeding, he noticed, though he couldn't feel it in the chill. He would have to find someplace warm... surely he wouldn't be welcomed back into the village, not after this. Maybe he could find a cave, or a hollowed-out tree...

He wiped away the tears and took a small bite out of the bread, chewing and swallowing as he picked his way across the forest floor. He had never been in this part of the woods before. There were plenty of old stories he had heard about these woods, including one, told to the orphans in particular, that said there was a monster out here that preyed on unwanted children. Steve had never been scared of it - he was eleven, after all - but now, freezing and hurting and starving and lost, the stories seemed a little bit more real.

His shivering steadily grew worse as he walked, his adrenaline winding down and letting the cold come back in. He had no shoes, no coat, only a threadbare shirt and a pair of trousers that were too big for him and kept up by a piece of rope wound around his middle. He picked away at the bread bit by bit, hoping the food would keep him alive until he found shelter. If not, well... he would have died anyway if he'd just let himself starve.

What had happened to the men pursuing him, anyway? Had they decided to cut their losses and give up? They couldn't possibly just have lost track of him-

A twig snapped, and he turned to see a glimmering figure standing at the edge of the clearing.

He recoiled in alarm even before he realized what it was he was looking at. A skeleton stood between two trees, fully upright and animate, with a few scraps of fabric still frozen to its form. The bones were covered in frost that reflected the light of the moon, and its' eye sockets glowed with an unearthly light - and it was pointing a bow and arrow at him.

Steve nearly choked in his fright, scrambling away as the arrow was loosed and thudded into a tree behind him. The skeleton gave chase as he ran, and he paid no heed to where he was going except for away, as quickly as possible. He slipped on a patch of frost, slamming down to one knee, but was upright and running again a moment later. The skeleton made almost no noise as it moved except for the scraping and rattling of bones.

Steve's path suddenly ended before him, and he pulled up short, but the frost on the stone made it too slick for him to stop in time.

The drop wasn't that far, thankfully, maybe four blocks. It still hurt to slam straight into the rocks below, pain exploding through his knee where he first made impact and forcing a breathy scream from his throat. Steve just lay across the rock for a moment, reflexive tears blurring his vision and hiccups trembling in his chest as pain radiated through his body from his knee and his ribs.

He heard the sound of bones above him, and he gasped, shoving himself backward and scrambling back with his good limbs against the small cliffside he had just fallen from. The face of the cliff curved inward a bit, sheltering him from the sky and from any pursuers. Steve tried in vain to blink back the tears in his eyes, and wondered as they rolled down his face if this was the monster that lived in these woods.

His loaf of bread was gone, he'd probably dropped it when he'd fallen. The realization made tears flood his eyes again. So he'd cast himself out of his home, put himself in danger and fallen off a cliff, for nothing.

Steve tried to muffle his tears in his sleeves as the skeleton moved around above him, evidently searching for its prey. Finally, the soft noises faded away and left him alone. Steven lifted his chin a bit, searching for where he might have dropped his bread, but when he moved he was rewarded by another spike of pain from his rapidly-bruising knee. With a sinking feeling, he realized he was going to die out here. He just didn't know if it would be from hunger or the cold.

A man stepped out in front of him. "Hello, there."

Steve muffled a shriek in his arms, pinning himself back against the stone wall in his fright. The man held up both his hands and took a step back. "Hold on, it's alright." He soothed. "I'm not here to hurt you." Steve stared at the man in bewilderment, realizing quickly that he wasn't dressed like his pursuers. He actually wasn't dressed for the weather at all, only wearing a pair of simple trousers, boots, and a short-sleeved tunic. Wasn't he cold? His most striking feature, though, were his eyes, which were blank and glowed just like the skeleton's had.

Steve's lips parted, then closed again, before he finally worked up the courage to speak. "A-are you a zombie?" The man grinned, not unkindly.

"No, little one." He told him. "Though I don't look human, do I?" Steve gave a small shake of his head. The man took a step closer, and Steve flinched, but he didn't have anywhere to go.

The man lowered himself down to one knee before him, about a block away. "My name is Herobrine," he said softly. "I can bring you to food and a warm place. Would you like that?" Steve blinked, remembering his lost bread, and he hesitated. Maybe this man wanted to hurt him, but he would die anyway if he refused his help. Did he really have anything to lose?

Steve swallowed, nodded. "Y-yeah."

"Come with me, then." The man offered him a hand, and Steve reached out to take it, trying to move and flinching when his body protested. "Are you hurt?" The man asked when he paused again. Steve nodded, his eyes flicking up to the top of the small cliff, and Herobrine followed his gaze. "I heard you scream. Did you fall?" Another nod.

"Th-there was a s-skeleton ch-chasing me." He flushed at how badly he was stuttering, but he couldn't help it with how bad his teeth were chattering. Herobrine frowned.

"There was?"

Steve nodded, bracing his free hand on the ground and trying to push himself up. The man leaned closer, offering his arms, and Steve hesitantly wrapped his arms around the stranger's neck. He was warm, removingany inhibitions that Steve had left as he was lifted up off the cold ground and enfolded in a warm embrace.

One of the man's arms went around his legs, and Steve jerked as pain shot through him. "M-my knee-"

"Sorry," Herobrine apologized, adjusting his grip. "It'll be a bit of a walk. Will you be alright?" Steve nodded into his shoulder, pressing close to hide himself from the cold breeze. "Alright." The man started to walk, and Steve shut his eyes, dazedly thanking Notch for sparing his life before he passed out.

The next time Steve opened his eyes, it was dark.

And warm, he realized shortly after. He lifted his head a bit, blinking blearily around until he spotted a light - the man's eyes. Herobrine, right?

"Good morning." The man murmured to him, and Steve set his chin on his shoulder.

"Wher're we." He slurred. He must've slept for a while. His knee still throbbed, and he could feel his feet now, which meant more pain.

"Underground," Herobrine told him. "I have a shelter down here."

"Why's it so w'rm?"

"We're deep enough for molten rock to form." Herobrine gestured with one hand to the walls, the movement only barely visible in the dimness. "It keeps these caves warm even in winter."

"Oh..." Steve plunked his face into the man's shoulder again. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been carried - being dragged didn't count. Ordinarily he wouldn't want to be carried, but his leg hurt too much for him to even try to walk, so this time it was okay.

"D'you live down here?" He asked. Herobrine nodded.

"Myself and my friends, yes."

"Fren's?"

"Children." Herobrine replied. "Like you." Steve lifted his head, a little indignant.

"'M eleven."

"Young people." Herobrine amended. "Younger than me, anyway."

"W-well how old are you?" Steve challenged. He could tell this man was grown up, but he couldn't be that much older than him. Herobrine didn't answer for a few moments, as if considering this question.

"Around four hundred, I suppose." He said at last. Steve's eyes shot open wide.

"What? But-" he stopped, processing this, then started again. "But no one's four hundred, that's-" He cut himself off as Herobrine began to chuckle, wondering if he was just pulling his leg.

"I don't look it, do I?" Herobrine asked, and Steve shook his head. "Well, as you may have guessed, I'm not an ordinary man." Herobrine adjusted his grip on him, and Steve took the opportunity to lay down his head on the man's broad shoulder. "So I don't age like a human would."

"Oh..." Maybe this was the monster from the stories. Even if he was, though, Steve found that he liked him a lot better than the cruel, greedy people in his village.

"What is your name?" Herobrine asked him. Steve blinked.

"Uh... Stev'n."

"Well, uh-Steven, we've arrived." Herobrine gestured before them, and Steven opened his mouth to correct him in his name, but was distracted by a warm light from behind him and turned to see what it was.

Stretching out before them was a huge cavern, with vines stretching down from the ceiling over waterfalls and pools surrounded by moss and pink flowers. The vines were the source of the light, as they hung with golden berries that gave off a gentle glow. In the center of the cavern Steven could see several small huts, lit by lanterns that burned with blue flame.

Herobrine smiled as Steve gaped at the sight, reaching up to ruffle his dirty hair. "Welcome to the Sanctuary, Steven."

give me a suggestion if you want me to continue this idk what I'm doing