Lost Friend

Chapter 2: Five Years is A Long Time

It had been five years since the Dusting. Everyone had changed, especially little Mellohi, who was not so little anymore. She was sixteen, yet she still managed to keep up her childish energy through the pain. She had grown another foot, making her at least seven feet tall. She was taller than Ranboo had been at her age. Technoblade constantly complained about how he couldn't tousle her hair anymore, but she always bent down to let him.

Mellohi was a bit sad to see everyone growing up. She never thought she would do it without Tommy and Tubbo, and she tried her hardest not to. That didn't necessarily mean she could stop her body from getting taller, but she could certainly stop her mind from getting older.

That morning in particular, she was planning on heading to the memorial. It was the five-year anniversary of the Dusting, and she had some roses and alliums in hand. With Stal in her backpack, she bundled up and started for the door.

"Where do you think you're going?"

Mellohi froze. Illuminated by the rays of the early morning sun, Technoblade stood with arms crossed and a scowl on his face in the middle of the cabin. The Enderman sighed. She had hoped to leave without being noticed.

"Hey, Techno," she awkwardly said. "I didn't expect you to be up this early."

"I could say the same about you," the Piglin replied monotonously. "Where do you plan on running off to?"

"I was going to the memorial," Mellohi sighed, knowing there was no point in lying. "I was only sneaking out because I know you don't get much sleep these days, and I didn't want to wake you."

Techno smiled weakly. He had been battling his onslaught of voices, of which had grown louder and more violent since the Dusting. Thus, he was getting less and less sleep, and Mellohi was growing more and more worried. Her own voices went dead a long time ago, but she knew his would never stop.

He would wake up in the middle of the night, or sometimes wouldn't go to sleep at all, and he would stumble around the cabin clutching his head. He would moan, cry for the voices to stop. They never would. Mellohi tried the best she could to help him, but there was one instance that will haunt her dreams until the day of judgement arrives.

Techno had gotten out of bed. The Enderman called out to him, but he never answered her. Only the voices. It was always the voices. He crashed down the attic ladder until he came to rest in the windowsill. Mellohi had followed him, because he had woken her up. She was obviously worried, but her blood ran cold when he cried out.

"No, I'm not going to kill her!"

The Enderman froze. With wide, terrified eyes, she watched as her brother slowly, mechanically, rose from his place on the sill. His eyes were shadowed by the moonlight behind him, those blood red eyes staring emptily at her. He stalked toward her, reaching for a glass bottle on the table. Mellohi backed into the wall as he crushed the bottle with his bare hands, instantly tearing his skin. Gripping one of the larger shards in his bloody grasp, The Blade pinned her there, and her breath hitched.

"Techno?" Mellohi chuckled nervously. "What are you doing?"

"Blood, blood, blood," he chanted gruesomely. When he spoke, it sounded like multiple voices were speaking at once. "Blood for the Blood God."

He raised the glass dagger.

"Techno, please," Mellohi begged, the pace of her breath quickening. She glanced around wildly for a way out. An escape that was not there. "This isn't you. Snap out of it!"

"We demand blood," he, no, the voices menacingly snarled. The horrible red liquid dripped slowly down his arm as he brought the shard down upon the Enderman, aiming for the heart.