The Edge of MINECRAFT (Being the Second Volume of the Minecraft Trilogy)

Wake Up

Samuel Jameson was not dead. Though sometimes he wished he was. Being held hostage by an insane and delusional psychopath was not much better. At times, it felt like it might be worse.

Curiously, Herobrine had not killed him at their confrontation that had happened several days ago. He had instead opted for forcing Jameson to trudge across difficult terrain while he sat upon his creepy black horse. To keep him from escaping during travel time, Herobrine had tied Jameson's hands to a rope, which in turn connected to the Dark Lord's horse.

When they stopped for a rest, Herobrine always had his sword out as a silent warning. And at night, even though Jameson had been provided with a separate tent, Herobrine's mumbling was a sure sign that any disturbance would cause the captor to stir from his light sleep.

Sometimes, Herobrine's sleep talking made Jameson's blood run cold. In six decades of life, the village leader had made a name for himself of being stone cold. He didn't back down when he wanted something. But now, this whole situation had him fearing for his life, and the delusions of grandeur that bubbled up in Herobrine's dreams made the whole thing that much scarier.

Now they were walking again. Jameson had definitely noticed a drop in the temperature. They had to be heading north.

"Lunch break!" Herobrine declared from his horse. Jameson stopped and waited. Herobrine dismounted and strolled up to the village leader. At a whispered command, the red sword glowed and Jameson's bonds untied themselves.

Herobrine plopped down on a log and pulled something out of a bag. "Salmon?" he offered. Jameson reluctantly nodded. His captor handed him a chunk of the pink meat.

"Man, this is good stuff," the Dark Lord remarked. "I haven't had salmon in a looong time. This cost a pretty penny. I mean, it's nowhere near the stuff we have back on Earth, but still, it's a welcome substitute."

That was it. Jameson couldn't take it any more.

"Why didn't you just kill the merchants selling it?" he asked, simultaneously malicious and terrified.

"I beg your pardon?" Herobrine inquired, looking up from his lunch. His tone still was that unsettling calm, almost pleasant.

"You can stop pretending we're friends on a picnic," Jameson continued, "where we can just have normal conversations about salmon! You kidnapped me, for Notch's sake! You're a monster. You've killed millions!"

"Now, now," Herobrine calmed, though his voice threatened rage. "I am not a killer. I am an entrepreneur. I've had a plan for millennia, and your bunch of bozos rudely interrupted them. Oh, don't look so surprised. I found you through some info that told me that you put that dreadful fiend Steve up to this. I need you to right these wrongs. I've got big plans for that Steve, and you're going to help me."

He's got big plans? Jameson wondered. Perhaps that meant that he didn't know Steve was dead. It was possible. Herobrine was very isolated from the rest of Mine craft since his most recent defeat. This meant that Jameson had an edge- and he could use it to get information.

"How do you plan to defeat him this time?" Jameson asked. "After all, he beat you last time. He even knocked the magic right out of your sword." He looked suspiciously at the once again glowing sword with the last part.

Herobrine smiled. "Oh yes, I remember that. I had a rough time after that. Completely blind, no power. Every last ounce I had left had been in that sword, not in my body. Now, I was completely powerless. But several weeks ago, I felt it begin to return. My true power was once again coming to me. My theory is that the whole time, it was just drifting around, and now my return made me like a magnet to it. But what the Nether. I'm just glad it's back. I can see once again, at least as much as I could see with my sword. I power that bad boy now, instead of vice versa."

"What do you mean, you could see with the sword?" Jameson asked.

"Ah, blindness," Herobrine sighed. "Another favorite topic. When my brother betrayed me, I lost my sight. My sword allowed me to see like, well, you guys don't have infrared yet. Let's just say I could see the heat things emitted. I can do that again now. But I haven't really seen since that fateful day.

"You know what I miss seeing the most? The moon. The moon was always so beautiful. I can't see it now. So in my opinion, I'm still a blind man. What I would give to see the moon. We had this great song about the moon back home. No words, just beautiful music. Beauty like the moon. It was called Clare de Lune. Awesome music. Man, if I could hear it just one more time.

"I'm sure Mark still listens to it. We both loved that song. Then again, maybe he doesn't listen to it any more. It probably reminds him of me. He wouldn't want to think of me any more. I messed up his plans. In his eyes, I was the glitch. I ruined his plans at world conquest. Funny, that's exactly what I did. Conquer the world. He thought that was evil, but his plans amounted to the same thing. He wanted to use this paradise, but he became so involved in it that it was his life. He had turned this fantasy into his reality, and he just needed to WAKE UP. Just goes to show, sometimes you don't know yourself."

Jameson sat listening the whole time. Herobrine definitely yielded a few gems of information, but his rambling consecrated Jameson's belief that his mental health was in jeopardy. Finally, Herobrine seemed to realize that he had been trailing, so he too became silent.

"All righty," he said at last, "let us continue." He stood and held up the ropes. Jameson sighed and held out his hands. With another magic command, the bonds flew back across his wrists. Then, the captor got back on his horse, and they were off again.

It was several more hours before they would stop again. Long after sundown, Herobrine pitched their tents and then allowed Jameson to go into his. He had no night clothes to change into, so he simply lay his head down and tried to sleep. Something told him he would need it.

And then it was the middle of the night. Jameson's eyes had opened suddenly. He listened carefully, hearing only the night sounds at first. Then, slowly, he began to pick up mumbling coming from Herobrine's tent. Oh Notch, he's doing it again, thought Jameson.

Try as he might, he couldn't go back to sleep, and soon Herobrine's mumbling took the shape of words.

"It has been reported that some victims of torture, during the act, would retreat into a fantasy world from which they could not WAKE UP. In this catatonic state, the victim lived in a world just like their normal one, except they weren't being tortured." Whatever Herobrine was talking about, it was really giving Jameson the chills.

"The only way that they realized they needed to WAKE UP was a note they found in their fantasy world. It would tell them about their condition, and tell them to WAKE UP. Even then, it would often take months until they were ready to discard their fantasy world and PLEASE WAKE UP."

Jameson found himself shivering as the words became nonsense. What the Nether could Herobrine be talking about? What kind of things had he gone through to put those thoughts in his subconscious? Was he talking about Minecraft as a whole? Did it seem like one big fantasy world to him, an escape from whatever torture he was faced with?

Or, the much darker option, was it a warning to Jameson himself? Was he being warned about something? Neither option seemed to have a good outcome.

Jameson would just have to endure this torture. He would not retreat into some blissful fantasy. He needed to be planning, getting ready. Herobrine certainly had big plans, and it was up to Jameson to stop him.