Xavon's eyes opened sharply as red and black swirls of ghastly memories faded from his vision, stepping back into his memory.
"I'll never be free." he muttered to the empty bedroom. He pulled the red duvet over his face and turned onto his side, somewhat wishing that the fabric would make this feeling go away. With every day that he didn't feel better, he felt worse.
Evil was a drug to Xavon. It tasted so sweet, it satisfied him when he craved it and with that he craved it more. It numbed the pain that felt like it would rip him apart. But it would destroy him. It had already started to; torn away his misfitting identity and replaced it, until he was no longer Xavon, but he was Evil (the Evil version of Xisuma, as the Hermits had said). Until his eyes reflected nothing but desire for destruction.
He hadn't planned it, but when his rage took over upon seeing the happy hermits he'd acted on nothing but impulse. Then he got a taste for it. He kept going until rage no longer fueled him. He kept going because he liked the power, the screams, the looks of terror. It was all he could think about. He became reliant on it; it became the only thing that mattered in his life because there was nothing else to matter. And he kept going and kept destroying and his thirst for evil kept growing. Until he was stopped.
And now, he was lost in a world that gave him too much forgiveness.
Without Evil, his life had no meaning. No worth. No hope. Who was he? He didn't even know who he had been before his life had been invaded. He was lost in himself, just an empty shell of himself continuing to live on, staying in Hermitcraft because he had nowhere else to go. None of the hermits really wanted him there, Xisuma was the only one to ever visit him for anything other than business. The thought constantly teased him that maybe he could just make things easier for everyone...
Xavon turned onto his other side, bringing his legs to his body, before checking his communicator. 10 am. He sighed, closing his eyes again and yearning for unconscious's gentle grasp again. Unfortunately, he wasn't tired, so he ended up staring at a loose thread on the duvet cover.
-|-|-
He never knew what snapped him out of his dazes, but eventually they had to come to an end. The realisation that he'd spent hours just lying there flooded over him like a tsunami, and as the wave retreated it left his mind a destructed town of guilt that he'd just wasted the entire morning. He could've been doing something productive, but instead he'd just zoned out.
He looked away from the piece of thread and sat up in his bed, checking his communicator to find out it had been three hours. Three hours. He sighed heavily and choked back the urge to start crying. He'd wasted so much time doing absolutely nothing. He was so lazy.
The Voidwalker stood up, placing his helmet over his white, greasy hair and walked out of the door. He'd slept in his clothes, so at least he didn't need to get changed. He hadn't needed to change in probably two weeks, it was just so much easier that way; it didn't require his constantly drowsy body to do anything it didn't need to.
The surrounding world looked dim as he stepped outside the security of his house and into the half finished arrangement of buildings. He opened a nearby shulker box, and got to work.
-|-|-
"Hey Xavon." Xisuma said as he landed by the chest monster. Xavon closed a shulker box and turned to his brother. "How are things?"
"Fine." Xavon replied with false tone in his voice. "I'm building."
"Cool. The empire is looking good." The admin commented, looking up at the ominous yet masterfully put together building. Xavon nodded.
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A Blessing and a Curse || A Hermitcraft/Watcher AU
Fanfiction'Watchers, often regarded as evil "Masters of Manipulation", are a small but infinitely powerful species. They have been feared and hated for generations because of their ominous appearance, power, and mysterious demeanour. Some consider them to be...