Mumbo the Pacifist - A Hermicraft 8 Story

4: Starvation

With a slow exhale through his nose, Xisuma crouched as he looked down into the abandoned cactus farm. Despite it being the first time visiting Keralis' base for the season, he knew it felt too quiet. He had visited Keralis' place so many times in the past in previous seasons to know what to expect. Even when his best friend wasn't home, his bases always had the noise of music left on by accident, an AC fighting the summer heat, hanging lights and chains lightly rattling as they swayed in a slight breeze.

But none of that was there anymore.

The admin surveyed the scene of his late friend's demise.

It didn't make sense. In what way would Keralis have gotten stuck on a cactus long enough to die? Something smelled off and it was a stench suffocating him under his helmet.

Maybe he was paranoid.

Maybe he was trying to create something to focus his grief and anger at.

Or maybe three back-to-back deaths with only a day or two between them all was suspicious. Especially Keralis'.

But with only a hunch built from his gut feelings, X didn't want to say anything out loud. The last thing he wanted was to start a witch hunt and turn the friends he had left against one another as they tried to single out a potential murderer among them. Or multiple murderers, which would be an entirely different ball game. However, Xisuma wanted to be benched in either scenario, let alone on the playing field at all.

His friends weren't murderers.

Right?

-

Seeing as he had so much luck with stumbling across his last victim, Mumbo decided to let himself aimlessly wander around the server again. At the same time, he dove into his thoughts and began untangling the newly woven strings into something he could understand.

The addictive feeling that came with watching the other hermits die lasted as long as them dying. This meant that Mumbo realized he needed to find longer methods of murder. He even wondered if he could challenge himself to kill everyone in different manners.

Then what, though?

What happens when he runs out of victims?

In that case, I should save Xisuma for last. He'll probably know how to bring everyone back at least, then I can start over. And if he fixes our mortality issue, then I won't have any consequences.

When he finally raised his head out of his thoughts, Mumbo noticed he was in the middle of nowhere.

At some point, he had stepped off the trails. Thankfully, being confined to one continent meant he would eventually find someone's base or his again.

"Mumbo?" He perked up at the sound of a fellow hermit and looked around. "Thank goodness I found someone! I was getting worried!" Hypno laughed, lightly jogging over to him.

He flashed a smile. "Hey, man! What're you up to out here?"

"I was going mining and then I popped up to do some exploring and then I ran out of food and then I couldn't find my mine or any paths indicating where anything is," he rambled before sighing. "Would you mind sharing some food?" His expression softened.

The one hope Mumbo clung to was that Hypno couldn't smell the baked potatoes on him. "Sorry, I just ate the last of my food," he easily lied. When the other hermit began to slump, he helped perk him back up. "But! I have plenty back at my base, which I think is around here somewhere! Come on, I'll take you there myself!"

Hypno eagerly agreed.

Although he didn't know where he was, or the quickest way to his base, Mumbo remembered which direction he had come from.

So naturally, he led the hermit in the opposite direction.

"Find any good loot on your adventures?" He quipped from in front of him.

He hummed. "Lots of iron and coal because I didn't stray too far down. I left a lot of copper behind because I don't think I need any yet. There was a zombie spawner, but somebody already ransacked the chests and lit the thing," he recounted. Mumbo heard his stomach growl, and glancing back at him, caught him wincing. "Ah, sorry, is it much further? My saturation is on its last legs."

His smile grew. "Not much further I'm sure."

Mumbo's hand delicately traced the bark of the tree as the pair walked past.

Hypno had to press against it, clawing at the wood to brace himself. He stumbled over a root, grunting in pain. "I-I can't- I'm out- Mumbo, help," he weakly pleaded, struggling to stand back up.

He kept taking damage from his lack of food. Each wince, each cry made Mumbo's heart race.

With such a show, he needed a good snack.

From his hotbar, he pulled out one of the thirty-seven baked potatoes he had on hand. Hypno's eyes widened. "I think you know how this is going to end?" Mumbo guessed before taking a bite.

"What's wrong with you?" Hypno cried.

Crouching in front of him, he couldn't stop smiling as he watched Hypno's stare focus on the food. When he tried to lunge for it, Mumbo pulled it away from his desperate grasp. "Mumbo, please. I don't know why you're doing this, but please! I'll die, permanently!" He begged. He took another bite.

"Then get on with it," he pointed out so simply, so sweetly, he might as well have been encouraging someone to plant new flowers. "Die already."

The hermit begged and cursed and slurred together accusations, hatreds, and pleas. But nothing sounded coherent out of a desperate, dying man.

<Hypnotized starved to death>

And when he did die, Mumbo frowned and stood up.

As he finished his baked potato, he took mental notes.

Drawing out deaths was definitely the route, and sure, Hypno's was... nice. But it could've gone better. More entertaining.

-

By the time he made it home, the hermits had still yet to figure out where Hypno had died. He sat back in his camper, watching his communicator flood with messages as hermits continued to frantically coordinate where he could have been.

xB said the last time he saw him, he was going to be mining.

Jevin thought he saw him near the mountains, but wasn't positive.

Xisuma requested hermits to try and find some sign of him either above or below ground.

Zedaph sent his condolences.

Gem offered to search around the trails, just in case.

Others began to follow her lead, offering to search different areas, some pairing up with others.

Finally, Mumbo offered, to keep something like that from happening again, to make rounds to where people were based to set up stands of baked potatoes for free. After all, he had such a large farm and smelting system already, so why not make good use of it?

The other hermits thanked him immensely.