Herobrine's Legend (The Wielder Chronicles Book One)

Attacker

I slowly crawled towards him. His eyes were still intent on the massive 'Herobrine's Head' displayed on the wall. I couldn't control my movements; like something was taking over my being and forcing me to do things I knew weren't right, but couldn't stop. In this case, to kill Steve.

To kill Steve. To kill Steve.

No. No. No. I can't. Not after all he has done for me. I had to fight the darkness for his sake.

I kept repeating memories in my head. Lunch under the canopy of the trees with Steve, Fluffy and Zazzles curled up in front of the burning furnace, and those cold, starry nights. I made myself remember all the things he had done for me, done with me; but I couldn't hold it much longer. I had to warn him.

I tried to call out to him, to tell him to run, but I just . . . couldn't. My words were just stuck in my throat. I tried to dropped the sword, but it remained firm in my gasp. Pathetic despair welled inside me, driving me to crushing fustration that made me want to bite my lips off. Then, I noticed a shadow cross behind me. I turned around, and before I knew it, I was in a battle. A real, dangerous battle.

He was skilled with his sword, but my blade had given me strange strength. I knew exactly how to use it, although I'd never used a sword properly before. I turned and twisted, avoiding the mysterious person's sharp-edged weapon, as well as leaving my marks on my attacker. Each successful strike left me with an unwanted feeling of grusome satisfaction.

He would thrust his sword forward, I would dodge it and jab him in the side. The only problem was, his iron armor made it nearly impossible to land a blow. Oh, but he was tiring. I could feel it.

Finally, I knocked his sword away from him, and pointed my strange diamond blade to his throat. Kill. I couldn't see his face. Then I heard a voice from behind me, cautious and restraining.

"Nya. Nya, drop the sword. Let go of it."

I turned around to face Steve, who was slowly walking towards me, his hands up in an I-don't-want-to-hurt-you kind of way that made myself force my hands to shake. And I snapped. Looked into his eyes, and all my feelings of wanting to murder vanished. I dropped the sword, and the sound of it clanging to the ground echoed around the cavern.

My legs, arms, sense; basically everything suddenly became so weak. My knees gave way, and I greeted the floor right before my head hit it and made everything turn a somewhat relieving shade of pure black.