Hermitcraft and Empires Oneshots

Queen of Hearts (False)

TW: Heavy Gore. Fire. Please leave if you do not wish to read.
When False is telling her story it will be in italics.

3rd Person P.O.V.

The Hermitgals were sitting around a campfire, roasting marshmallows, hanging out, and trading spooky stories under the sea of stars bright against the black sky above their heads.

Stress was waving her hands around wildly, narrating a story that had.occurred to her in the nether a while back. Her voice was quiet, but carried out across the birch forest.

The brunette appeared to be having a lot of fun telling her story, and her voice held a dramatic tone as she reached the climax. Suddenly, her hands clapped together. It sent a sharp sound through the woods that was accompanied by quiet giggles.

The girls subsided, and Gem and Stress seemed to be looking expectantly in the direction of False. For a second she looked lost in thought, as if wading through the waters of her memory, fishing up stories from her past.

False P.O.V.

I mulled through my thoughts, searching my memories for a suitable scary story that would both entertain and frighten the brunette and redhead beside me.

Suddenly and idea came to me, and I popped up out of my stupor to see the girls patiently waiting for me to choose a story. "Okay, I've got mine. You'll be excited about this. I call it, The Queen of Hearts.

A flash of recognition passed over Stress' face, and I had guessed she had heard a little about my last before. I knew it was unknown to Gem though, and the specifics would be a surprise for the both of them.

Our story begins years and years ago. A small wood and cobble house on the outskirts of a large trading town. Off in the distance waves could be heard, but they could not be seen from atop the cliff on which the house sat.

Next we set out focus to a girl. She was sitting on the edge of the cliff, staring down at the unforgiving water below. Her hair was a flowing golden blonde that reached down just past her shoulders.

In her hands was a blade. It was expensive compared to the rest of the things the family owned. The glad was silver and sharp, a foot of solid iron. The handle was carved out of wood to fit the girls hand, and it included and handguard and leather grip.

The shortsword was the pride and joy of the girl. It was her most cherished possession, a gift from her late grandfather. It was an unusual thing for a girl to have in this town, but that did not matter to her.

The salt that sprayed up from the cliffs added on to the coat of sweat, creating a messy grime on the girl's skin. Sighing, she stood up and walked back into the small house.

Entering it would show you a combined kitchen and living room in one room on the first floor, with a stairwell on the back wall. If you were to walk up those stairs you would find one bathroom and two bedrooms.

The girl headed to the stairwell at the back, bounding up two steps at a time, before opening a wooden door that led to a white tiled bathroom. Stepping inside the shower, she quickly cleaned herself before exiting and dressing again.

She picked her sword up off the counter, and brought it into her room with her. Once inside the room, she set it upon the stand that was made for it, and lay down on her bed, quickly falling asleep.

"This is taking forever," Stress whined, " get to the good part already. " I laughed. "He patient, Stress, I'm about to get there. You just have to set up the story before getting to the climax, just like you did."