Esther (Herobrine x Reader)

EwE

(Basically chapter "Violence" but without the violence. Sometimes it is important to be critical of your own work. And sometimes, you just need a little help. So, will you guys please help me out --if you want-- and let me know which you think is better? How it all went down in the previous chapters...or this?)

(It is a lot of copy-paste, so feel free to skim.)

(Also thanks for 2k reads, everyone! ^_^ )

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Since the guards outside were blocked by curtains and Kim would be the only one in the room with you, you dressed much more casually. Pulling over yourself a simple white tank-top, black shorts, and nothing more, you prepared a little nest of pillows as your bed. Minutes after laying down, your mind was still buzzing. So many conflicting emotions filled your head. Guilt, fear, anger, longing, sorrow, the list went on! You needed an output for all of these emotions..now!

Luckily for you, you just so happened to have one. In the corner was a canvas and stand you had set up in here for just in case you were ever inspired and couldn't wait. Now...it was a necessity to express how you were feeling inside. You placed the canvas under the thin stream of moonlight peeking through the curtains and stood in front of it. Everything was angled in just a way that your body didn't block the little sparing light.

All the paints set out on a wooden pallet, you closed your eyes, allowing your emotions to express themselves as they wished... It had been en eternity since you had last allowed yourself to do something like this.

You began mixing the colors together, feeling it was better to use your yet to be dirtied assortment of scraping knives for this. Your strokes were precise but unpredictable. Jagged in nature, dark in tone. The satisfying scraping noises of metal against the canvas consumed the darkened room. You knew not what you were painting. Only that it needed to be darker. Darker colors, more jagged lines. It was sloppy. It was quick. It was filled with emotion... It was terrifying.

Only 30 minutes after you had started, you finished. You gasped faintly when your mind finally registered what you had created. The blackened, smeared pallette board was dropped, your tools discarded. You stared in horror at the sight. A dark...shadowy figure with white eyes took over the canvas. His presence was undeniable. A dark fog accompanied the hostile form as he glared directly into your soul through the painting.

You stumbled back.

"...No..." Immediately, you hated it. You hated it with your living being! Not just because it was a terrifying sight, but because it simply wasn't him. The villainous figure standing before you now; it became clear to you at once. Some small, little, tiny fragment of your mind switched.

...This wasn't Herobrine...

Stretching your hand out so that your fingers brushed against its inky surface...you sighed a long, painful sigh. No... This was your fear...

Your breathing hitched for a moment as your fingers dragged their way down, tearing through the portrait and smearing its image some. Your parents' faint voices called your name as tears flooded your eyes. Blinking the moisture away, "...I'm sorry...Mom...Dad... I was too scared to save you..."

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It was a mangled blur. Nothing felt quite right. Like it was all just a dream...

Sharp pangs of pain tugged at your wrist. Your father pulled you along with your mother not far behind, carrying Delilah, whom they had adopted only a year ago. All around were shouts and screams. Blurs of movement caught your eye. Your father covered your upper face every now and then to protect you from witnessing the darkness all around.