1nF3cTeD

Guess who's back, kiddos? I'm finally getting off my feet and getting some actual writing done instead of just thinking about it! Aaaannnnd rewriting a whole lot of fan fiction content. Never fear, though, for this improved plot line still has a lot of the old content, but more put together, more action, more shenanigans, more answers, and more suffering! All the ingredient required for a good story!

Enjoy!

I Traumatize a Fisherman

SSSSSSSSSSS!

KABOOOM!

"CURSES!"

I whipped my arms up in front of my face to shield myself from a blast of heat and dirt as a creeper exploded violently; its final (and only) powerful sacrifice to give before it died. The roofed forest was thick with vegetation, hiding from view the hostile mobs that were consistently trying to kill me. Normally, I was very hard to take by surprise, but the creeper had crept up so quietly I hadn't heard it until it was almost too late.

I spat out a bit of dirt as smoke curled up from the new crater in the earth, a thick sulfurous smell lingering in the air. Knowing more mobs were coming, I turned away from the smoking earth and scanned the area. Half a chunk away, by a cluster of trees, huddled a group of skeletons, peering out at me deviously with their bows in hand. Ducking behind some bushes to discourage them from shooting at me, I began to pick my way through the undergrowth until I was right behind them. Then, I pounced.

The next moment, the air was full of the clattering of startled skeletons and flying arrows. Thrusting my blade through one's rib cage, I hissed as an arrow drove its sharp tip into my right shoulder. I reached back and ripped it out, whipping around to hurl it through the center of another skeleton's exposed forehead. It collapsed with a rattle as thick white smoke billowed up from my shoulder. With an outraged hiss, a spider suddenly dropped from the trees, flinging its hairy body at me in fury. The fallen skeleton's mount, possibly.I gutted the thing with one stab, then jerked my blade out and kicked it against a tree. It let out a dying hiss as it crumbled into a useless pile of brown and black pixels, more smoke floating up from the remains. Two more boneheads, taking advantage of the distraction the spider provided, sprinted away to crouch behind a giant mushroom and aim their arrows at my chest. Idiots, I snorted as I batted away the projectiles with my sword. A stray arrow sank deep into my ankle, and I let out a strangled yelp, stumbling in surprise. Then I suddenly vanished with a pop!, reappearing behind them and beheading them both with a single swipe.

Suddenly, cold, clammy hands gripped my neck from behind, surprising strength in the undead fingers.

"Graawwwwwwwrrr!"

A zombie grimaced in fury as it tried to choke the life out of me. I gagged, pulling at its slim, rotting fingers. The zombie squeezed tighter, determined to avenge his fallen friends. Short on breath, I reached back to shove my sword into its neck, my chest heaving. The zombie let out a strangled gurgle, smoke drifting up from the wound as the creature staggered around. I pushed the blade deeper into its body, and the zombie fell apart, the recycled corpse melting away into warm, thick smoke that was whisked away by the breeze.

Safe for a moment, I rubbed at my injured throat, gasping for fresh air. That zombie had caught me off guard. I could almost still feel its unforgiving grip, and I tenderly touched finger-shaped bruises that mottled the sides of my neck. My shoulder throbbed, and my ankle was oddly numb, which concerned me. It was possible that one of the skeletons had used a poisoned arrow.

Without warning, I heard something akin to a battle cry as another skeleton sprinted towards me, its jaws clacking together angrily. Late to the party, I sighed to myself, stepping aside as it swiped at my head with its bow and dispatching it with a few cuts to its arms and neck. It fell apart into a cluster of bones, and I looked for another enemy to fight, only to discover they all lay at my feet, defeated.

The humid summer air filled my lungs as I panted, sweat trickling down my face. Staring at the remains of the mobs in confusion, I scuffed my toe at a stray bone, wondering why they'd attacked. This wasn't exactly the first time it had happened, but it was certainly uncommon. The mobs around here— and around most places, for that matter— knew me. They certainly trusted me enough to leave me alone and let me do my own thing. Had I done something wrong? Bending down, I swiftly wiped my sword on the thick grass that carpeted the ground, then glanced down at my reflection in the gleaming weapon. Beneath the dark hair that hung in my face, two white glowing eyes shone back at me like little stars, blank and devoid of emotion. A few new cuts and a nasty burn had joined the numerous scars marking my face, and I shook my head violently, snorting in mild contempt as I sheathed the blade in a leather scabbard. Finding the answer to that question would have to wait. Smacking my lips, I looked around one final time to ensure they were all gone. My ankle was only just starting to throb, and smoke continued to stream from my shoulder, brushing by the tips of my wild hair and staining them silver. Those arrows had penetrated much deeper than I would've expected. I needed to get of the woods and take care of my wounds before I lost too much blood.

I paused, thinking for a minute. There was a village not too far from here, I knew, and I was fairly certain the inhabitants were ignorant enough I could go unnoticed if I chose to. I leapt into the air, my tired legs dangling beneath me as I wove my way between branches. The woods suddenly seemed oddly devoid of mobs, other than the ones I had killed, but I wasn't about to complain. I had no desire to slay more. Soon, I found the old, overrun grass path that lead to the village, and I sped along, my trip easier with the trees clear out of the way.

The path quickly turned into a gravel road, broader and free of undergrowth as it entered a large, bustling village set on the seaside. While most of the village spanned the shore, a series of docks and planks lay sprawled across the water, houses perched atop wooden platforms upheld by thick, sturdy poles. Crafters hustled up and down the streets, all of them at work with some task to get done. I lit down on the rocky walkway, brushing any excess dirt off my shirt in a hasty attempt to clean myself up as I trudged towards the village.

I took my time, ducking through alleys and behind obstacles to avoid being spotted. As I made my way into the center of town, I glanced around curiously. It had certainly been a while since I'd visited this place. The air was rich with the scent of food and animals, creating a unique, not entirely pleasant smell that permeated the place. The marketplace buzzed with humans, their incessant chatter mingling with animal calls and sizzling meat. My stomach rumbled a little, and I sighed wistfully, eyeing a juicy chicken that was roasting on a spit. Shaking my head, I backed away a little. The food wasn't worth the risk right now. My shoulder was still bleeding, and I regretted foolishly ripping the arrow out before I had bindings available. I needed to find a safe place to sit down for a while. Looking around for options, I eyed a smaller hut set on the docks, its door wide open and the building obviously empty. Unfortunately, there were far fewer places to sneak around from here to the docks.

Cautiously, I crept out into the open, pulling my shirt over my head and shoulders like a weird makeshift mask. I felt rather stupid, but the shirt did its job, filtering the smoke from my shoulder and hiding my face from casual onlookers. Luckily, this shirt was somewhat transparent, and I could see enough to tell where I was going. Hustling towards the hut as the hot sun beat down on my back, I glanced uncomfortably at a few Crafters that were watching me as I walked by. "'Ey, jus' what do ye be doing?" One of them asked in a strong sailor's accent. "That's Mack's hut, innit?"

I paused. "Mack? Uh, he asked me to grab something of his."

"It better not be that blasted map again!"

"I'm afraid it is," I lied. "That guy's totally obsessed, am I right?"

The Crafters snickered a little, showing that I'd interpreted the sailor's statement correctly. Another Crafter, a teenage girl, squinted at me. "What's with the shirt? Afraid people will see how ugly you are?"

I bristled. "No, I'm just really easily burned, thanks."

"What's your name, again?"

"...Brian?"

"Well, Brian, I don't think I've seen you around before. Are you new?"

"Yeah— actually, no, not really, I'm just visiting. Got here, um, a few days ago. Relative of.. Mack's. I've been helping him with a lot of stuff, so I've been too busy to say hi. Still am, so if you'll excuse me..." I limped away as fast as I could, worried they would follow me. I was beginning to feel a little dizzy, and my ankle was now screaming in pain, the mysterious numbness it had had before gone. The heat of the day certainly didn't help, although the ocean breeze made it bearable, at least.

Upon reaching the hut, I staggered inside, slumping down against a wall. It was a simple building, with bare wooden floors and a desk with a few papers scattered across it. There was a small, rickety wooden bed shoved into a corner, and I could see a map lying on top. This guy is probably a treasure hunter or something, I guessed as I pulled the shirt off my head. Scooting over to the bed, I ripped some of the cotton sheet off in a strip. This would have to do. I bound my shoulder tightly, being careful not to cut off circulation. That taken care of, I leaned down to stare at my ankle, grimacing at the arrow's shaft still lodged there. The majority of the shaft had been broken off somewhere in the fight, and what remained of it was stained silver, along with the skin surrounding the wound. The whole ankle was swollen and mottled red and purple, and the pain was getting more intense. An arrow dipped in bloodbane poison, maybe? The red mixture was known for intensifying pain and for eating away at anything it touched. It could easily be fatal if ingested or if enough of it was thrown at somebody's torso, where it could burn away at vital organs.

Grabbing the shaft, I took a deep breath before ripping it out in one swift motion. I clenched my teeth and hissed in pain as smoke began to issue up from the wound, a reddish color instead of the usual silver. Yep. Bloodbane. Milk could neutralize the toxins for sure, but I had no idea how to get it safely, and the poison was already in my bloodstream. It wasn't enough to kill me, but it sure hurt, and I wasn't exactly eager for any of my insides to get damaged. Grabbing the window ledge, I pulled myself up and hopped out the door, hastily pulling the shirt over my head again as I did so. Then I limped towards the market place, cursing those stupid skeletons under my breath. Passersby gave me enough weird looks to last a mortal lifetime, but I limped on, carefully searching market stalls for the white, creamy liquid. All I needed was a sip.

There were a few cows being sold in one stall, and I gagged at the stench coming off them. A little calf stayed close to one of them, and I paused, glancing uncertainly around the market. The pain was spreading up my torso now, and no other milk was in sight. The owner of the stall stood in front of it, near some barrels of cow feed. He watched me curiously, probably hoping I wanted to purchase one of the bovines.

Grumbling under my breath, I inched towards the cows, pretending to be interested in buying. I just needed to get the owner away from the stall long enough to steal some milk. "How much are you selling these for?" I asked.

"Thirty emeralds per animal," the shopkeeper promptly responded.

"Are you kidding me?! That's—" I restrained myself. To Nether with this guy's crazy prices. I needed that milk. "That's... a reasonable deal," I corrected as the man glared at me. He snorted. "That's what I thought, weirdo," he huffed. I grit my teeth. "See, the thing is, I don't really need the whole cow... I got poisoned—" I gestured to my ankle— "and I was hoping you could lend me some milk?"

"Milk is included with the cow. Either buy one or scram."

Frowning, I reached for one of my pockets. "Of course. I have my emeralds right here, so, uh, just give me a mo— OH MY VOID ITS HEROBRINE!" I shrieked, pointing over his shoulder.

Startled, the man whirled around, and I shoved him into one of the barrels, slamming the lid down and twisting it shut as nearby Crafters watched in surprise.

Hopping the fence gate keeping the cows in, I scrambled for one of the many iron buckets scattered across the floor as people began to yell at me, getting over their shock.

Milking the cow nearest to me didn't take long, but she certainly didn't appreciate a stranger coming in and stealing her milk like that. The chosen cow shuffled nervously as people began crowd around, one of them cautiously approaching the furiously rattling barrel. The frightened cow jerked away from the front of the stall as the barrel rocked back and forth, obscenities filling the air as the man struggled to escape. Yelping, I scrambled for my bucket as the thing tipped over, the little milk I had collected spilling on the ground.

Slipping past my grasping fingers, the bucket rolled under the cow's stamping hooves, and I withdrew as the animal let out a loud moo. "Quiet," I snarled, scrambling back to avoid being crushed.

As the Crafter reached out to touch the lid, the barrel exploded open, and the shopkeeper burst out, his face red with fury. Crap. "Where is the thief?!" The man roared. No time for more milk. As fingers pointed in my direction, I dropped to the floor, slurping up as much of the milk as I could from off the dirty straw. "Get away from my cows, you scum!" He cried, rushing me. The cows panicked, and hooves pounded down around me as I curled into a ball, covering my head with my hands.

All I wanted was some milk, I griped bitterly. In the commotion, the cows charged the fence, desperate to get away from the stranger in their stall. With a loud crunching sound, the flimsy wooden gate was trampled, and the cows burst out into the street as the shopkeeper screamed, tumbling out of the way. I staggered to my feet as yells and mooing filled the air, watching the cows hurtle through the streets. The shopkeeper ran after them, calling desperately for them to come back. Taking the opportunity to escape while everyone was distracted, I crept out the stall, rubbing at my freshly bruised torso. Hurriedly, I began limping towards the docks, glancing back a little as a few Crafters yelled at me, some of them coming my way. One of them, the sailor from before, suddenly broke out in a run, and I sprinted to the fisherman's hut, leaping through the window and slamming it shut. Then I scrambled under the bed, trying to control my breathing as the Crafter approached the hut. He gave a quick glance through the window, then stalked away, satisfied that I was elsewhere.

Distantly, I could the cows being reigned in, and I let out a heavy sigh, reaching back to rub at my throbbing ankle. It didn't hurt as much as before, but running on it had certainly made the injury worse. I peered out from under the bed, reaching a hand out just as the door swung open. Startled, I yanked it back under, watching quietly as a pair of bare feet padded across the hut's floor, coming right for the bed. I tensed as the feet came to a stop, the crinkling of paper filling the silence as the Crafter turned to set the map on the desk. I heard the crunch of an apple, and I inched forward to get a better look as the person rummaged through his desk, his back to me. Was this that Max guy? He set the apple on his desk and lifted up what I assumed to be the map, staring at it wordlessly.

The person turned to grab a nearby ink sac, and his arm bumped into the apple, knocking it off the desk. "Whoops," the guy chuckled as the apple rolled under the bed. I grabbed the fruit, then handed it to him as he reached down to get it.

"Here you go."

"Oh, thanks!"

There was a moment of silence. Then he bent down and looked under the bed, paling as he stared at my face. "Don't scream!" I yelped quickly. He screamed. I squirmed out from under the bed, grabbing him and clamping my hand down on his mouth. Suddenly, a sharp pain ripped through my palm, and I hissed, yanking my hand away. "Did you just bite me?!"

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

"For the love of—" I shoved him against the wall, cramming part of my tattered shirt in his mouth.

"Shut up already!"

The man thrashed wildly, and I could hear murmuring as some people approached the door, drawn by his screaming. "Everything ok in there, Mack?" Somebody called worriedly.

"Yes, everything's fine," I called in what I considered to be a passable imitation of his voice, pinning the squirming Crafter against the wall. "I just... have a stomach ache." I fell quiet, hoping Mack's muffled yelling could pass as groans.

"...We heard you screaming."

"The, uh, pain is pretty bad. In fact, I really need to use the restroom. Right now. So don't mind me while I—"

"Ok, ok, we get it," the voice assured hastily. "Feel better soon," another Crafter called, their footsteps receding from the house. Once I was sure they were gone, I turned back to glare at Mack. "Stop that," I snapped. The boy— no older than seventeen— was quite a mess, his dark, ruffled hair drooping down over his face as a tear trickled down his cheek. "Geez, kid, I'm not hurting you. Get a hold of yourself!"

This didn't seem to calm him much, but he pointed at his mouth, grunting feebly. "If you scream one more time, I'll glue your mouth shut," I threatened, pulling the cloth out of his mouth. He gagged, his nose wrinkling in disgust. I couldn't blame him. "A-are you going to kill me?" He whimpered. I squinted at him. "Of course not. A scrawny, whiny guy like you isn't worth the effort."

I glanced around the room for a second, taking a deep breath. My whole body ached, and I wanted nothing more than to get out of here.

"Y-you're He-Herobrine, right?"

Mack scooted into a corner, trying to stay as far away from me as possible.

"What gave that away? My charming good looks?" I replied sarcastically. I walked over to the window, and Mack stumbled away from his spot as if I'd shoved him. I gave him an irritated glance. "You humans are ridiculous."

The boy sniffed, looking a little insulted, and I turned away from him, gritting my teeth as my limbs throbbed. "This has been fun and all, but I have other things to be doing. It wasn't a pleasure meeting you," I said as I shoved the window open. The sea sloshed against the docks below me, and I pulled myself up onto the window sill, glancing back to make sure Mack wasn't planning on trying anything. He opened and closed his mouth silently several times, looking as if he wanted to say something. Then he simply shook his head, so I shrugged, turning to leap out the window. Rising into the air, I gave the chaotic village one last glance before flying away, wincing as my shoulder tensed painfully. "This is why I don't play nice with Crafters," I scoffed, looking for a good spot to settle down. "Greedy, nasty creatures." Like that stupid shopkeeper. How hard could it possibly have been to just let me have some milk?! Though the look on his face as he popped out of the barrel would have been pretty funny if I hadn't been in such a rush.

Below me was a small mountain overlooking the land near my home, and I flew down, landing in the valley nestled beneath it. Tall, thin grass blanketed the valley, and the mountain cast a shadow over the majority of it, keeping the area cool and pleasant. I hobbled over to one of the few trees growing there before climbing it, albeit with a lot of pain involved. Once I was settled in the branches, I glanced around one last time, confirming that I was alone. No angry mobs, no Crafters, not even any animals apart from a single songbird singing in another tree somewhere. Relaxing a little, I began gently examining my wounds. I could take my time here, thankfully. Now that I had a moment to think, the question that had been bothering me all day finally demanded more attention. Why had those mobs attacked? Sure, I wasn't good friends with any of the monsters in that region, but I'd never done anything to harm them. We'd held an unspoken truce for as long as I could remember, but now they had suddenly turned against me.

In general, most Mobs were aware of the destruction and harm I could bring upon them should they try to attack, so we tended to leave each other alone for the most part. Every now and then I would even do a favor for a few of them with the understanding that it would be returned, or vice versa. With all the benefits our relationship had for them, I simply wasn't worth hunting down— until now, apparently. It had seemed like not just a group of them, but the entire forest had been after me, specifically. And with the emptiness of the woods afterwards, it almost felt like I'd killed them all— a ridiculously small amount of monsters for such a large area. Do they all want to kill me? I wondered. Would I constantly be under attack like a common Crafter, should I venture out at night? Or was it just that region? What had I done to deserve it? All these questions swirling around in my head were making me tired. I leaned back to rest my head on a branch behind me, plucking a leaf off and rubbing it between my fingers.

Whatever was going on with them was certainly strange. I yawned widely, letting my arm go limp and hang down from the tree. The leaf fell to the earth as my eyelids drooped, and the last thing I remember thinking before falling asleep was hoping no hostile monster found me there.

Alright, I know a few of you may be upset, or nervous that this one won't be as good as the original, but I honestly think that if you enjoyed the first , you'll like this one. I really hope you all enjoy it!

Until next chapter!

-M.B.