Acts of Redemption

Bleeding

tw - Mentions of blood, bleeding, burning and Purple being an absolute monster

This chapter has been rewritten

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His tears had become bothersome only a few minutes into his flight, and Purple couldn't help but curse under his breath at every tear that stubbornly went down his face despite his best efforts to wipe it away.

It wasn't helpful at all. It clouded his vision to a point he almost hit the netherrack above at least twice as he maneuvered through the nether wastes.

"Pull yourself together, Purple!" — He yelled at himself, hitting his palm to his forehead a couple of times to try pulling himself out of his own head. — "Everything is fine... You're fine, everything is just...fine."

The sharp pain in his leg wasn't helpful, he knew that whatever disgusting beasts lurked below had already picked up on the scent of his blood, not that he was scared of those anymore.

He only landed when he saw the blue lanterns dotting down below, making a path to the north tower.

When his feet touched the ground, a wave of nausea followed suit, like electricity going from the cut in his leg all the way up to his stomach and to his throat.

The two brutes at the door grunted curiously when Purple staggered, but he shook his head and marched forward without giving any of them a second look.

Get it together. He repeated to himself in his mind as he opened the gates and walked inside.

His mind was everywhere, all at once, in a way that overwhelmed his every sense. They couldn't register the awful smell of pig that the corridors had, nor did he even acknowledge that he had pushed a piglin out of his path.

The first floor of the tower was filled with chests lining up the walls in each side, mostly used by the piglins to store items like weapons and rare equipment that Purple had collected from the overworld, stuff that the creatures from down below wouldn't be able to obtain without his help.

Purple proceeded to open each chest, checking the containers until he found a water bottle and some old dirty wool cloth. It wasn't much, but it would have to do for some makes shift bandaging.

Unceremoniously he dropped some water down his leg, hissing when the cold water hit his warm wound, and with his hands he quickly scrubbed off some of the blood. — "Ok ... This is... Less nasty, I suppose..."

Torture them. The voice of his King echoed in his mind. And no amount of shaking his head seemed to stop it from happening.

"Fuck..."— Purple grunted softly, his shaky hands dropping more water on his wound, getting more and more frustrated that the blood kept seeping out, he tried scrubbing it with the wool, but it was simply smudging it around. — "Fuck... Fuck..."

Then he punched the wall as hard as he could, it echoed in the room. — "Fuck!" — He yelled as he dropped the wool and the water bottle to the floor, before he himself sank down.

Purple didn't know what to feel, if he felt lucky that the piglins weren't coming to check on him, or even more lost from the cold in his chest. He covered his face with both his hands, then closed both into fists before he forced himself to get up again.

"Pull. Yourself. Together!" — Purple repeated, again and again, drying those annoying tears and taking a slow deep breath.

He could do this, if his King wanted him to, he could do this.