Village Orphan

Village Orphan: Hurry Home

Arriving at the camp*

The sun was lowering as I entered a small clearing within the forest. Normally, this journey wouldn't have taken so long. I shouldn't have let myself get distracted. 

I rushed inside a small shack that sat in the middle of the clearing, raw mutton in hand. Pigs happily squealed in the pen next to the house. Poor bastards. I popped the mutton into one of two furnaces that I had set to the left of the door. They mirrored a back entrance, and next to that entrance, a soft, glorious bed. I lay down in the soft covers, dusk releasing soft fall colours through the window above me. Closing my eyes, I let the darkness of the night overtake me. Or at least... that's what should have happened.

"What. The. Hay." I thought. This was not normal. Like a button or a lever, falling asleep was always instant for me. You fade into sleep, and then it's day. But here I lay, no button, no sleep, and no day. And no day meant...

I waited a few moments, silently glaring at the ceiling, but the situation remained. For the first time since my tenth birthday, I couldn't sleep. Panicking, adrenaline filling me, I rushed out of bed, tangling in the wool sheets. A chest next to the bed held two stacks of arrows, emergency beef rations, and a spare bow. I took it all. A part of me hesitated, wondering why the supplies had been halved. But I didn't have time to speculate. Flashbacks filled my head, moaning villagers and panicked children, the crashing of doors breaking. The groans of the newly born villager zombies.

I rushed out the door once again, the tattoo on my arm changing rapidly as I ran. I stumbled over the ledges and hills in the forest, running into trees as I focused on the tattoo. I listened for groans, hisses, clattering, anything that I might need to avoid to make it to the village. Arrows flew at me, explosions followed me, and still, I ran. But so did the moon. No matter how fast I ran, the distance was too great. I cleared the woods, still 400 blocks from my destination, and entered a wide stretch of plains. Sheep, pigs and cows stared at me as I passed them. More and more arrows flew at me as I lost the cover of the trees. Pangs of hunger hit my stomach, and suddenly my energy was gone. I crouched, quickly shoving barely cooked steaks into my mouth. I swallowed right as an arrow hit my shoulder, knocking me back. I quickly stood up and ran. The ache was lost to adrenaline as I began running again, this time searching for a quick place to break.

An abandoned hole in the ground, evidently left by a creeper, served as a temporary refuge as I ate. Panic swelled in me, but reason and frustration held my feet planted while I waited. As soon as I felt fully refreshed, I began running again.

By the time I reached the village it was dawn. Monsters were illuminated in the sun's morning glow before burning alive. Their grunts and groans of pain sounded as I approached the village. A small gathering of houses, the village was built along the edge of a small mountain. To my left lay birch woods that reflected the light of the sun. It was beautiful, but nothing could ease the fear in my gut. The dread coiled inside of me as I slowed. The monsters were gone, the only thing left now was to see the destruction they had brought... and know that in some way, it was my fault. 

On the outskirts of the village, a Farmer was aimlessly wandering. He had his wares with him, his straw hat casting shadows over his face as he hummed. I approached him, watching, recognizing the look in his eye. This villager was lost. They were so fragile, the villagers, their minds becoming vacant shells at the slightest changes. From experience, I knew that no matter what happened, nothing could save him. His dark brown skin would burn through his thin wool coveralls, and still, he wouldn't seek shade. His child could call for him from inside the village borders, and still, he would not come home. I stared at him for a moment while I mustered my courage. I entered the empty town, the remains of doors scattered along the village road, the wind rushing through the empty houses. 

Despair welled in me as I discovered that that broken, lost farmer was the only villager left.