In The End

Chapter 2

He smiled faintly as he walked through the forest. The trees loomed over him, despite his height, and the grass was soft. His red eyes, softer in glow than they used to be, glistened on small stones.

It was a lovely night. The moon glistened through the leaves, leaving small glints of light on his deep red skin. The wind blew softly, sending a small but not unpleasant chill over him.

The leaves rustled overhead as he looked up at the sky, and one could see the stars reflect in his eyes. He smiled, and his eyes only glistened more. He felt at peace and happy.

Then he felt something. Something wrong. What is that? he wondered, looking around. A feeling of fear and concern washed over him, as well as a feeling of protectiveness for his friends.

I don't deserve these friends, he thought, but quickly pushed aside these thought and focused on the new presence. Presences.

There were several, and he tried to count them all. Eight. All evil. All angry. Each different. All dangerous.

One stuck out in particular. It felt different. Like it had gotten itself here, and was determined to stay. It felt angrier. More dangerous. More terrifying.

Yet it felt familiar, and he wanted to get closer to it. Find out the source of the energy. But he knew better.

And after a few minutes, the feeling faded, and a nearby tree turned grey, like a sudden illness. He watched in horror and realization as he watched the leaves turn grey and fall, like dead snow.

No... he thought, taking a step back. I have to warn everyone.

So he tried to teleport right to the village, to his new friends- he couldn't. No matter how hard he tried, it wouldn't work. Panic washed over him. What is happening? What's going on?

He was quick to ignore the issue and just start running to the village, stumbling and tripping as he went, cutting his skin on low hanging branches. He hardly noticed.

He had to get there. He had to warn them. He had to do something with his life and help and show how much he really cared.

I don't deserve these friends, the thought as he ran, his heart racing. The only reason I'm alive is because I earned enough experience- through murder -to respawn. I'm terrible. I need to-

He stopped just as he reached the gates, and upon seeing that he was an endermen- who were now good guys -the guards let him in.

He ducked through the iron doors. "Gameknight999! I need to speak to Gameknight999!"

A tall muscular villager was on the porch with his two little ones. Digger. "What's wrong?" he asked, gesturing for his two children to head inside. Protective of them, as usual.

"Do you not feel it?" he asked, shaking. Some villagers worried he was becoming provoked from being looked at, but that wasn't the case for endermen anymore. No, he was shaking in fear.

Digger shook his head. "What are you talking about?"

A young redhead girl looked up from her work, having been fixing up a smock. "Are you not feeling well? Minecraft is at peace now that all the monster royals are dead. The bad ones, I mean," Stitcher inclined.

He looked at them, worried. Maybe everything is fine. Maybe it's all okay.

He felt someone pat his back. He turned and found the User-that-is-not-a-user, looking up at him with a small smile. "I think you need to go back to The End and rest, okay? I'm pretty sure coming back to life has your brain a bit wonky. Trust me, I get that."

He nodded thoughtfully, trying to shake off the nagging feeling that something was wrong. "Yeah, yeah, maybe you're right."

The king hesitated before turning around and stepping back out of the village, stooping to get through the iron doors in the cobblestone wall. He stopped outside the doors, and took a few deep breaths; his chest felt tight still.

Maybe Gameknight was wrong. He kept walking, his legs unsteady, worry for his friends washing over him.

Friends you don't deserve, a voice inquired. His own.

He continued walking, trying to ease his own harsh thoughts. You killed to get here, you're a monster.

He picked up the pase, his heart starting to race again. You're going to wind up hurting them. You hurt them enough.

His chest felt tight and his stomach felt twisted. His head pounded, but he also felt light headed. Tears welled in his eyes. He started to run again. You aren't a friend, you're a fiend.

Shut up! Shut up! Shut- "Ow!"

The king stumbled back, holding his leg, hissing in pain. All the other discomforts left him as he felt his leg burn and sizzle. "What the heck..?" he asked himself quietly, but the sound of trickling water immediately answered all his questions.

He looked down at the river before him, and stared for a moment. He felt that impulse again. One he had a difficult time refusing.

No, he told himself, scooting away from the small stream. No. No. He stared at the water, his breaths short and shaky.

He shouldn't. But he deserved it. But he was better now. But he hurt people. But-

Silence came over his mind, and for a moment, he saw and felt nothing, but heard a splash. Finally, his mind was silent.

He looked back to the water as his hands started to hurt and burn. He had plunged his hands into the river, and it burned. A lot.

The king hisses quietly in pain, but felt comforted. This is what he deserved, what he wanted, what he needed. He splashed some water on his face, and the drops made his skin sizzle. He winced.

He couldn't stop now. He plunged his hands into the water again, up to his elbow, and cried quietly as it felt he was being burned alive. His survival instinct wanted him to pull away from the danger, but his mind didn't.

He laughed quietly, tears from the pain falling down his face, making his cheeks burn. Everything hurt, but I was worth it.

He kept splashing water over his body, like an excited child during a bath, crying and laughing. He enjoyed the peace that came with the pain, and finally getting what he deserved. He deserved to suffer.

The king was so enveloped in the peace of pain that it came as a surprise when something grabbed his wrist and pulled him away from the dangerous River.

"No! Let go! I'm not done! Let-" Something strong- yet gentle -grabbed his chin and turned him to face towards it, and Feyd's eyes widened as he found himself looking up into a pair of harsh fiery red eyes.