Misfits (Minecraft Mobs X Reader)

𝘉𝘶𝘪𝘭𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘓𝘢𝘴𝘵 │ ?

𝙩𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙜𝙚𝙧 𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 ; 𝙗𝙤𝙙𝙮 𝙙𝙮𝙨𝙤𝙧𝙥𝙝𝙞𝙖, 𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙙𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙝, 𝙫𝙞𝙤𝙡𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚

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Numb. That was all he felt in the moments after death. Isaiah found himself in a dark void after dying for someone who he couldn't even remember. He couldn't see or move for he had no body to occupy. He wasn't even a 'he,' only just a fragment of a soul wandering about in the void. He wasn't Isaiah. He never was. He had no such name until...

"Hmm, we'll call you... Isaiah!"

Were they talking to him? Isaiah? Who's Isaiah? His name wasn't Isaiah. It was—

"Are we really going to stick to this pattern? How more cheesy can we get?" A different, more lower voice asked exasperatedly.

"You can't change my mind! Look, he's already getting used to it." The first and rather chipper voice from before responded haughtily.

Isaiah could start to feel his senses coming back to him, but he felt different. He felt... wrong. He could barely remember, but this wasn't how he was before.

"Oh wow! Look at you! You're just roaring to go!"

His arms felt heavy. Everything felt heavy. He could barely even lift his head up. Trepidation erupted in his mind, screaming for control over this body. This body that was not his. He tried to speak. He tried to move. But, it all felt like he was trying to swim in quicksand. He tried to take deep breaths to calm down, but only to find that he couldn't breath.

If he couldn't breath, how was he even alive? Was he even alive? Isaiah found himself blinking rapidly, attempting to get a grip on his sight. He could at least hear, although he couldn't hear all that well.

"Whoa, take it easy, pal."

"She's right. You don't have full control over your body. Please, try your best to sit down if you can."

Isaiah followed the directions of the distant voices, almost too compliantly. He couldn't even think or second-guess about what he was doing. He just... did it. And, for some reason, that unnerved him.

Sitting motionlessly on the floor, lanky arms at his sides, Isaiah did nothing as the two people inspected him. This new body of his was now fixed? He couldn't move and when he tried to, he just couldn't. There was no resistance. Nothing felt heavy. He was just laying still. Paralyzed.

He could only watch as eyes raked over him and as various tools prodded him. Then, he felt a hand on where he believed his shoulder was. A face inserted itself into his vision which was becoming clearer as time went on.

Skin the color of terracotta, eyes blue like the sea, a perfectly bright smile graced upon this new face.

"Isaiah, I know how you feel. It's okay. You are going to be fine. Better actually. Better than never before."

'Did you just say better? How is this any better? What is happening?! Why can't I move?! ANSWER ME!' Isaiah screamed, but his cries of help would never leave the confines of his mind. 'WHO IS ISAIAH?!'

The mysterious woman patted his shoulder in a sympathetic way, her eyes gleaming with some sort of strong emotion he couldn't decipher.

A pause. Then came the startling realization. 'A-Am I Isaiah?'

"You're going to do great, Isaiah. You'll be able to do what you failed to do..."

'F-Fail? W-What did I fail to do?' How frustrating it was not to be heard.

The mysterious woman looks down and chuckles to herself at something that only made Isaiah even more befuddled.

"It's more like you're optimized for it." She corrects herself. Then, her daring eyes meet the dull eyes of Isaiah's. With conviction, she states, "You were built to protect and serve. That is all what you will ever do, Isaiah. Even if you die again trying."

'W-What? W-Why?'

"Ah, the price of resurrection. In some ways, it's more cruel than death, but trust me, Isaiah. You'll accept it in no time."

'A-Accept it? Accept what? Why am I here? Why must I do this?'

Almost as if the mysterious woman read his mind, she responded, "You are Isaiah. You are meant to protect."

'P-Protect what? Why? A-Am I alive?' Like the waterworks, thoughts flooded into his brain. It almost gave him a headache. From what he could surmise, he was resurrected but he has to serve a specific purpose now that he was resurrected? Notch, that makes it even more confusing.

"Isaiah, who are you and what is your purpose?"

Again, without a second thought, Isaiah speaks out loud as if he could've done so the whole time.

"I am Isaiah. I am meant to protect."

'W-What the?! H-How did I just say that? Why did I say that? I'm not even— I am Isaiah. I am meant to— No! This isn't right! I am Isaiah. I am meant to protect. Wait! I am Isaiah. I am meant to protect. I am — I AM NOT ISAIAH!'

Out of defiance, Isaiah manages to gain some control and flail one of his arms, slamming something soft into the wall.

"He's losing control. Put him down. We'll try this again tomorrow." Before he knew it, Isaiah could feel his iron body get stabbed over and over again.

But, that didn't matter. None of it mattered. He was built to last after all.

"I AM NOT ISAIAH!!"

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「 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 898 ❙ 𝘱𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 2.6 」

「 𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘱𝘶𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥 : 11/23/2021 」

AN: Thank you all for the wonderful comments and votes! I really appreciate that even after so much time has passed, this story still has readers lol. By the way, if you're a long-time reader, you'll notice that this is an entirely new chapter! I originally was going to wait until a certain point in the plot to publish the 'origin chapter' for Isaiah. But, then I went ahead and wrote this for now since well... you might know what's going to happen next. :3