Thursday, October 31, 2013

A Chance Encounter with... Him... Pt 1

   The day started off like any other.  It was a brisk, cool morning in Fall.  The harvest had been good this season and my spirits were high.  I complete my morning stretch routine and walk down the gravel road to the animal pens.  I can hear the groan of a burning zombie in the distance, racing to find shelter from the morning sun.  As I round the corner of my house, I hear a light noise from behind me, and that all too familiar hiss.

   I dash forward and roll.  Leaping to my feet with a spin, I draw my sword from it's sheath and point it towards the Creeper.  It scowls and hisses at me as I calmly and slowly walk backwards.  It's glaring eyes staring at me with hatred as it follows.  Before either of us makes a move, I hear a swish sound as an arrow flies by my ear and embed itself into the Creeper.  No longer concerned with me, it dashes off towards the skeleton archer that attacked it accidentally.  I give a sigh as I sheath my sword.

   The rest of the day proceeds uneventful, completing my daily tasks of feeding the animals, exploring a nearby abandoned mine, harvesting raw ore for processing into new tools.  The trouble began as the setting sun peaked over the nearby mountain range.  An unnatural breeze blew by, carrying with it an unsettling moan.  A kind of moan that is only spoken in the quiet corners of a pub, or at camp fire horror stories.

   To say I was nervous was an understatement.  My knees started shaking as beads of sweat appeared on my brow.  "Woah, get a hold of yourself, Steve."  I let out a deep sigh and regain my composure.  I look at the nearby mountains, but don't spot anything.  I walk into my cabin to prepare dinner.  My nerves still on edge as I coax my fireplace back to life.  I skewer a fish and place it over the fire.  The smell of the fish roasting calms me.  I sit back in a chair and open a nearby book.

   I quickly drop it as that moan rustles through the trees.  My knuckles white as a deep fear takes over and I grip the arms of the chair hard enough to leave a tiny indent.  A snap from the fireplace startles me.  I slowly my breath and wipe the beads of sweat from my brow.  I calm my racing heart as I head to the fireplace.  As I look the fish over, there is a bang at the door...


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