Greetings.

This is where my Author Note area will be. On the top/begining of the stories.
I am still not sure if I should start a new fanfiction about this or not. And this story is like a test to some new experiments I have been doing with my own Writing Style. And this is everything you should know for now. So you finally get to the story.

Full Summary: He ran.

The experienced explorer, the strong man whose years of mining gave him enough knowledge to know that this was not something to be mess with. He knew better than any other Minecraftian should NOT react in another way other than running from it, trying to escape and preserve your own life, body and soul. Even if it was pathetic to such respected miner to simply just run away from The Creature, it was the best of options in the dangerous situation this very miner found himself with. He knew that this kind of force should not be messed with. But still, the respect, the pride, the honor were all in the same game, the same BET, being the prize that could never be taken away from the minecraftian, and that it should be protected as a mother Wolf would do to protect it's offspring.

So, he had not taken any other chances and jumped downstraight to the opportunity that could bring him fame and glory.

And now, he ran.

His footsteps echoed through the entire cursed cave. His breath was rough and harsh, as his own lungs demanded the oxygen for the energy on his feet. His whole body in pain and in demand to stop and rest, but the man did not allowed him to such pleasure, he already was in grave danger and any stop could be lethal. The boots kept their strong rhtym as it came in contact with the hard and cold stone, making the footsteps louder and echoe more through the dark place.

And yet, in his own fear, the man stopped running into a small place. The forgotten feeling of being safe welcomed him with it's warm arms full of hope. But that hope could not last long, the explorer knew that and had no time to waste to rest.

Acting quickly with his big and clumsy hands from such run, he grabbed his Flint and Steel to lit a small fire with his very last sticks. The small flame tried it's best to keep alive, and shared it's warm sensation to the tired man. But even with all that little moment of appreciation to the little fire, he never stopped. Coughing hard due the lack of fresh air in his lungs, the explorer revealed a small book of leather and delicate pages from his coat.

There were sounds in his pressence that warned him that his time was running short. With agile movements, he opened the book and flipped through the pages, searching for a valuable information that might be able to help the poor man. The letters were written with an old ink and difficult to be read in such a place, especially with that poor excuse for a fire to illuminate the dark cave.

His concentration of the symbols in the book were suddently cut, and replaced by fear and desesperation as a sudden strange wind along with a suspecious noise came to blow the small flame away. He did not want to take anymore bets with destiny as he tried to lit the fire up again, not noticing that those actions were to only delay him from noticing the pressence of The Creature that brought fear and blood with it.

His own instict, taught by experience and time, warned him that this was over. With shacky hands from the fear of the imaginary glowing eyes, he still tried to lit the small piece of red hope. His intentions died as he felt the familiar horrifying chill running through his entire body. The opened book, so long forgotten on that cold mineral had his pages flipped by the unnatural wind and a warning deep sound.

It was coming closer.

And he had no more time.

The Strong Experienced Man, reducted into a small frightened child, ran for his life. His body filled with an desesperated warm, the energy from his desesperation that filled the adrenaline in his veins, and the fear that he only thought that could exist in nightmares. The pain had forgotten his body and clunched into his heart, that pounded with the strenght and impact of a Creeper's Explosion in close contact.

The sounds were growing more faster than he could possibly run. He could hear his own voice in his head, already screaming and begging to make it stop, to make this reality another nightmare from an exhaustive day of work and mining. He wanted to curl in a ball and throw himself in the ground, and scream that all of this live nightmare was not real, and yet he ran for his own being, knowing that the same monster from his dreams was going to get his soul and annihilate his life. Running through the hard stone and the cold dirt, ignoring everything else except the inhuman sounds that were his time left to live as it got closer and louder. With teeth shattering themselves as he shivered from the cold that came along with the noise, and breathing harshly for the air as the lungs had no more oxygen to gather, he never dared to look back.

As his body started to feel numb.

As hope started to fade.

As the knowledge that the so close exit from the nightmare was never to be reached again sinked into his head.

The experienced explorer turned his head over his right shoulder, facing his killer whose white glowing souless eyes pierced his through very mind, let out the last unfinished gasp of words as his very being was torn out of existence. And never to be heard of again.

That is, until you notice the creature with the soul-piercing eyes is standing right behind you.