Someone Special (Minecraft Hostile mobs x reader)

Chapter 6

The next morning, you hummed softly to yourself as you used the hoe (the one used to garden, mind you) to create a small garden next to your home. You didn't know how long you'd be staying here - it could be anywhere from a couple of hours to a couple of months, depending on when Eilliam and Harry would be there to see you. Harry told you that when they were done, they'd find you. They (Harry in particular) saw which direction you ran in, and they'd follow the trail (with the help of a bit of magic) to find you.

So now it was the waiting game. You just had to stay alive.

While you were planting wheat seeds, your mind began to wander. A part of you wanted to run back to the home, to see how Eilliam and Harry were holding up, to see whether they were even there or whether they'd gone into hiding for protection. You felt guilt - guilt that you couldn't be there to help them fight, to help them survive. A part of you regretted listening to Harry and wished that you could be in the home with Eilliam and Harry, gathering materials or making potions or doing something useful.

But another part of you knew better. You'd be crushed back there. Regardless of your little training and fighting abilities, you weren't nearly as good as Harry or Eilliam - you'd hold them back. Looking at Steve's sheer power and strength, you weren't a match for him either - he could've easily taken you hostage, as a leverage against the witches.

You grit your teeth in frustration and threw the hoe out of anger, watching as it traveled through the air and crashed against a tree. Clenching your hand, you forced yourself to take a couple of deep breathes. "Relax, Joy. Relax. Stressing and taking your anger out on things isn't going to make you feel better." After that little pep talk, you went after the hoe, not wanting to waste a good farming material over a basic fit of anger.

When you got there, you heard a soft moan echo from behind the tree. Straightening up, you rushed to grab the hoe and get away. But then you froze as the moan sounded again. The moan didn't sound frightening or threatening by any means. In fact, it almost sounded scared - or wounded. The moan sounded again, this time followed by an abrupt whimper. You peeled around the tree to find th source of the noise. At first, you couldn't see anything because it was so dark. You almost thought that you'd misheard the noise because there was nothing there.

Then you heard two distinct moans, followed by a shrill shrieking, echo from the water. Turning towards the water, you gaped in surprise. Two zombies were in the water, glaring at you. One of them was a small baby zombie, trying his best to run towards you, and the other was an older zombie, not an adult by any means, but some age close to an older teenager. The teenage zombie was holding back the younger zombie, and they stood there, moaning.

By this time, you'd taken a couple of steps towards the 2 zombies, keeping your footsteps even and keeping your voice low. The logical part of you was telling you to run, to escape back to the house before they got even more upset. Nonetheless, you knew you were safe for now. It was morning and the zombies couldn't come out of the water in the morning. Also, you were still dressed in the witch hat and robes, so you hoped that they understood that you were a fellow 'mob.'

Their moans slightly lessened and they seemed to be more at ease, but they still sounded frustrated.

"What's wrong?" You questioned, unsure of whether or not these mobs could understand you. Eilliam had mentioned that mobs could understand 'human language', they just preferred not to speak it.

Thats when you heard a deep, guttural groan come from behind you. Turning around, your eyes widened in alarm. An adult zombie was laying in the shade of the trees, badly injured. Taking a glance at the open lacerations, you knew that they'd come from a sword. There were multiple sword wounds all across the zombie's abdominal area, and the zombie looked to be in great pain.

Looking back at the younger zombies, you realized that they were definitely related to the dying zombie, or at least close. They were reaching out to the older zombie, trying to motivate him into joining them in the water, and the baby zombie was still trying to run towards the tree to help.

A pang echoed in your heart.

They're a family. Do humans really say that mobs can't form connections? That they're heartless? The father figure is about to die and the children are doing all they can to save him... This is heartbreaking. I have to help.

Turning on your heel, you rushed back in the direction of your house. The zombie wouldn't trust you enough to bandage him up - you knew that for a fact. You wouldn't be comfortable with a stranger doing that for you either. Instead, you grabbed the bandages, a couple of golden apples, and a couple of healing potions from inside the bag Harry packed for you.

Going back out, you noticed the younger zombies stop and stare at you. Noticing you approaching the injured zombie, the baby again snarled and tried to make his way over. The teenager held him back - he noted something in your eyes. A certain kindness, a certain sense of sympathy was there. Somewhere in him, he knew that you wouldn't hurt their dad.

And you didn't.

The injured zombie hissed slightly at you and tried his best to move away, certain that you were about to kill him. He was an older zombie with more experience - he knew you weren't a witch. Noticing you getting closer and still being unable to move, he closed his eyes in defeat.

Only to feel the splash of a splash potion hit him. Expecting to feel weakened, he was surprised when he felt strength surge through him and his gash started to close. A healing potion (it was really a harming potion, but to the zombie, it was a healing potion). You'd given him a healing potion, he bought to himself.

But why?

Surprising him even more, you gently placed the golden apples and bandages down by his legs - still remaining a good couple of feet away. You didn't want him to panic, so you kept your distance. Once that was over, you softly moved your head up and looked into his eyes. You saw a couple of emotions fighting in there.

You saw confusion. You saw interest. You saw relief. Most importantly, you saw appreciation.

He knew you were human, you could tell just from the way he snarled at you earlier and backed away, as well as the confusion in his eyes now. You wanted to show him that not all humans were cruel and heartless - that some could be very nice and helpful and compassionate. He seemed to understand that now since his whole body looked much more at ease.

The sun began to set as he reached out to grab an apple. As he ate, the baby zombie ran forward to attack you, too young to realize that you'd helped his dad. The teenager struggled to keep up behind him, trying to take him back but being too slow to catch up. You froze, not wanting to attack the baby. At that moment, the father leaned down and scooped up the baby, gently cradling him and nuzzling him into his larger body. The baby melted into his father's embrace and enjoyed the affection. Then the father mumbled something to the baby and you turned to go back to the house, not wanting to interrupt this precious family interaction.

Then you heard soft footsteps follow and small reached wrapped around your legs. Looking behind you, you saw the baby zombie hugging your legs and grinning up at you. Silently fawning, you picked him up and cooed over him, much to the other two zombie's amusements.

Then the baby crawled out of your hands and placed his hand into his brother's. The brother came forward and, leaning in, gave you a soft hug.

"You saved him," he whispered. His voice was a little scratchy and cracked, but soft and kind as well. "You saved our father. We can't thank you enough."

You nodded, feeling emotional and not being able to form words.

The older zombie offered you a smile and reached out to you, giving you a gentle handshake, being careful not to hurt you.

Waving their goodbyes, they turned and left, leaving you grinning from ear to ear.

You'd seen the softer side of the mobs, the side that most humans refused to see - the loving, caring part of them that seemed impossible to think about, but was so sweet to watch.

Hostile mobs were just as human as humans themselves. If only the other humans could see that.