Minecraft Oneshots

Crash - A "Hunted Blood" continuation

"To the shock and alarm of law enforcement all over the Baymont area, the convicted serial killer known as 'Herobrine' escaped containment during transport to a higher security prison around noon yesterday. Residents are advised to avoid spending time alone outside, and to call the police if there is any suspicious activity. Law enforcement is..."

Steven tuned out the rest of the broadcast, forced to focus all his energy on staying upright. Sometimes he was lucky enough to get a seat on the subway home, but today it was jam-packed, forcing him to stand and clutch a handle above his head for dear life. He hoped the other passengers couldn't see how hard he was fighting to stay upright.

Herobrine, wasn't that... the man he gave blood to once?

Today had been an especially rough donation. The facility had requested two pints instead of one, and also harvested some plasma. He hadn't had a chance to eat between drawings, and had only gotten through the day by fantasizing about taking a nap as soon as he got home. Now he just hoped that he'd make it home before he passed out. The world spun rather dangerously with each turn the train took.

Something was being announced through the speakers, and the doors slid open. Steve blinked as people began to file out, looking at the electric sign above it - oh, Notch, this was his stop. He quickly slipped out before the doors could close on him.

Each step was a chore as he made his way up the stairs from the station, knuckles white where they clutched at the railing. It was about two miles home. One step at a time, Steven plodded his way down the sidewalk, his thoughts a constant loop of don't pass out don't pass out don't pass out don't pass out. It wouldn't be the first time he had fainted after a blood draw, but passing out alone and in public would undoubtedly be far more dangerous than in a sterile hospital room.

Finally, the front door of his apartment came into view, and he nearly collapsed just from relief. Fumbling his key out of his pocket, he jammed it into the lock and pushed the door open. Stepping into the entry hall, he shut the door behind him and locked it, sagging against the wall with a sigh. Almost there...

Wait, why were his lights on?

Steve blinked at the light spilling from the living room entryway. Was that... he could hear the TV, too. Had he forgotten to turn them off before he left? He was certainly scatterbrained enough for that. Notch, his electric bill was going to be through the roof if he kept this up...

Steve stumbled forwards, intent on turning off the electronics and passing out on the couch, but he froze stiff the moment he got a good look at his living room.

A stranger was reclining on his couch, watching his TV comfortably with a bag of chips in his lap. At first, he didn't seem to notice him, but the tiny gasp Steve made alerted the man to his presence. The stranger glanced over, only to offer him a sharp-toothed grin.

"Evening, Stonewall."

The world spun dangerously, and the last thing Steven saw was the ground rushing towards him before he blacked out.

.

.

.

The soft chatter from the TV was the first thing he heard when he eventually woke again.

Steven scrunched up his face at a touch, a finger poking his cheek.

"C'mon, get up." The voice urged. Why was it so familiar? "Eat this before you waste away."

"Huh-" The word came out in a croak, and he coughed, blinking his eyes open. Before him was a plate, on which was a simple peanut butter and jelly sandwich. The plate was held up by a hand, and following the hand down to its owner revealed a face with blank eyes and sharp teeth.