Minecraft Story Mode: The Unknown Tales

Chapter 9: Loss

"For the last time, I don't care how desperate your town is!," said a man with a gray moustache, thinning hair, and a black suit and tie. "This is the price I am offering and no lower. I suggest that you take it or leave it." He was sitting at a wooden table, and sitting across from him was a woman with chestnut hair and redstone armor. "Please, Mr. Smith," the woman begged. "Redstonia needs that redstone! Our reserves are running out and without the next shipment of redstone, my town might not survive!"

Mr. Smith, or Sebastian J. Smith, was currently in a meeting with someone to decide how much the next shipment of redstone would cost. He huffed, twirling his moustache with his fingers impatiently as he stared at the woman sitting across from him. He just couldn't understand why the woman was so adamant against the shipment's current price. One thousand emeralds for twenty chests of redstone sounded reasonable to him.

"Listen, miss...," he trailed off, already forgetting the woman's name. "Ellegaard," said the woman. "It's Ellegaard." "Listen, Miss Ellegaard," Mr. Smith continued. "I just don't see why you believe this trade is so unfair." "Sir, Redstonia doesn't HAVE one thousand emeralds!," said Ellegaard desperately. "You know how rare they are! Could you at least lower the price just a little bit? Or ask for something other than emeralds?"

Mr. Smith sighed heavily. "Very well, then," he said. "The price will no longer be one thousand emeralds." Ellegaard smiled in relief. "The price is now TWO thousand emeralds," said Mr. Smith, wiping the smile off Ellegaard's face. "T-two thousand emeralds?," asked Ellegaard, her face pale. "But that's double the original price!" "Listen, Miss Ellegaard," said Mr. Smith, leaving forward and smirking at her. "I'm not a big fan of haggling. My redstone has to have high prices, otherwise, how would my company stay afloat? This is my final offer. Two thousand emeralds for twenty chests of redstone, or no deal."

"This...this is barbaric!," yelled Ellegaard, standing up from her seat. "It's criminal! You're willing to condemn an entire town just to fill your own pockets?!" "Yes," said Mr. Smith without an ounce of hesitation in his voice. He leaned back in his chair, smiling smugly. "Besides, who else are you going to ask for redstone from? The other multibillion redstone corporation just across the street? My advice is to take it or leave it."

Instead of responding, Ellegaard grabbed her case full of precious ores and ingots off the table and stormed towards the door. She stopped halfway and turned her head to give Mr. Smith a scathing glare. "Sebastian, you mark my words," she growled. "One day, someone is going to stand up to your injustice and teach you a lesson!" She walked out of the room and slammed the door behind her. Mr. Smith, who was nonplussed by the vague threat, took a cigar from his desk and did a celebratory smoke.

A soft knock sounded on the door. "Enter," said Mr. Smith, smoke wafting from his mouth and nostrils. The door opened and two girls walked into the room. One of them was a young woman with brown hair and eyes the color of emeralds. The other was much younger, probably no more than six years old, with yellow hair brushed to the side.

"Father," the older girl said, bowing her head a little. "Molly," said Mr. Smith, doing the same. "Is there a reason why you and your sister have decided to visit my office at this hour of the day?" "Well...," said Molly, picking up her sister and cradling the younger girl in her arms. "Stella here was hoping if you had time to read her a bedtime story before I tuck her into bed tonight." "Is that all?," asked Mr. Smith, rolling his eyes. He didn't have time for this. "I'm afraid that I had just finished an important meeting and am too busy to read any stories to Stella. You will have to do it yourself, Molly." "I...understand," said Molly, trying not to look disappointed. "Come along, Stella. I'll read you that story about the Order of the Stone defeating the ender dragon. Would you like that?" Stella's downcast expression quickly changed into a bright smile as she nodded enthusiastically. Giggling, Molly walked out the door with Stella, leaving Mr. Smith to his work. His life would never be the same after that night.

Hours into the night, Mr. Smith was still poring over stacks of paperwork. It was one of the drawbacks of being the CEO of his own redstone company, after all. Suddenly, a loud and ominous crash sounded in the living room. Mr. Smith looked up from his work, listening for any more suspicious noises. After a while, he deduced that it was just his daughters getting into some mischief and continued to go through his paperwork.

His office door flew open with a bang, causing him to jump in his seat. It was just his youngest daughter, Stella. "Stella!," he scolded after calming down from the sudden intrusion. "How many times have I told you to knock before entering my office?!" Stella, however, was a complete mess. Her face was covered in tears and mucus, and she looked like she was about to start sobbing again at any moment. Finally, she took a deep breath and screamed, "IT'S MOLLY! SHE'S BLEEDING!" His work forgotten, Mr. Smith ran out of the office with Stella just behind him. He ran into the living room and nearly threw up at what he saw.

Molly Smith, his own daughter, was lying on the floor with a gaping hole in her stomach. Her intestines were strewn all over the floor, and blood was spurting from her mouth. At first, Mr. Smith could only stare at his daughter, completely petrified as Molly was choking on her own blood. Suddenly, he heard heavy footsteps hurrying away, followed by the sound of the front door opening and closing. Realizing that the assailant must have just left the house, Mr. Smith rushed to the nearest window and stuck his head outside, just in time to see a man wearing black and purple armor running from the scene of the crime.

The armored figure quickly vanished into the darkness of the night, his armor making him practically invisible. A quiet moan from behind made Mr. Smith turn his attention back to his dying daughter. Stella was standing over her with a horrified expression on her face. "Go to your room, Stella," Mr. Smith ordered, barely keeping his composure. "This is not for children's eyes." "But...but...," Stella stuttered, shaking like a leaf.

"NOW!," Mr. Smith roared. Stella screamed and ran to her room, sobbing. Mr. Smith took deep breaths to calm himself down, then kneeled next to Molly. "What happened, Molly?," he asked, his voice cracking. "Who did this to you?" Molly looked up at her father and, with all the strength she had remaining, said one haunting word. "...I-Isaac..."

Her energy spent, Molly's entire body went limp. Sobbing, Mr. Smith ran to his office and took another cigar from his desk, frantically trying to light it with shaking hands.