Wither

Chapter 7-Mania

A/N: Since rereading my previous chapter, I am going to be going back and a) adding more detail
b) adding more depth
So I would like to say, for a record, that the earliest published chapter currently is Jan. 14th because when I reedit, the original date of publication is lost. So let's just say I started Jan. 14th.

I angrily stormed into my room and slammed the door so hard it fractured. I unleashed a wordless scream alike to a banshee and shifted into an iron golem. My dark eyes gleamed and I smashed a limestone adorned fist into the wall, one of the only walls in this house that wasn't red. It cracked, and I punched it again and again until a little hole appeared at the bottom of the wall.

Herobrine had put me in an outlying bedroom, so instead of his freaky mansion, the rich plains of Netherrack were visible from the hole. I shifted into a silverfish and squirmed out. Herobrine, hearing the banging, kicked open the door kung fu style (as much as I could tell) and demanded what happened. But I was already outside, shifted back to human and running away. Herobrine's roar of anger echoed from a mile away.

I pressed on, glancing past my shoulder. I spotted a blast of white light and a shadowy figure emerging. I looked back at my path and saw a mob of wither skeletons. They all drew their bows and aimed at me. I swerved and raced away. I dodged most of the arrows, but one lodged itself into my calf. I stumbled and fell. As I tumbled to the ground, I forced my body into a ball and rolled to a halt. I got up, a gesture that was sending my injured leg screaming. Herobrine teleported beside me, a snarl of anger embedded in his face.

I froze. Behind me was a ravine filled with lava, and slowly creeping up on me from the front was Herobrine. An insane thought bubbled into my mind, akin to the boiling magma below. I embraced it, for it was the only idea I had. "I'd rather die than go back to that hellhole with you," I snarled at the white-eyed man before me, and turned around. I jumped into the pit, dramatically flipping and forcing my aching body into a dive. As the lava hungrily approached, I bit my lip and hoped for the best.

*Herobrine's POV*

I snatched at the air where Toboe was five seconds ago and gaped. She had literally jumped into a pit of lava. I gazed over the edge. I was tempted to scream "NOOOOOO!", but refrained, as I was currently livid.

I saw nothing in the pit. Well, apart from lava, obviously. I waited to see if she would ever surface. I turned from the pit. After a minute of walking, I looked back at the pit, where my almost friend rested forever. Suddenly I saw an explosion of lava. I ducked the flaming hot specks coming my way and covered my face.

*Toboe's POV*

Panic overwhelmed me as I plunged into the lava. It was scalding, melting my willpower as well as myself. I grit my teeth as it burnt me and focused my energy into the necklace. I glowed white and burst out of the lava. Intense power and depression surged through me. I let out a triumphant call. I was a ghast. I spotted Herobrine, tiny as an ant compared to my mighty girth. Narrowing my eyes, I created a fireball in my mouth, ready to launch at Herobrine with a hate-filled screech. But I stopped myself.

Memories coursed through my new mind-of our first meeting. Of him lying on the floor, bloodied and weak. Of me fixing him up. Of our kiss.

I shifted back, unsettled. I dropped the two feet to the ground and jolted. Burns lined my arms and my clothes were frayed and tattered. I glared at Herobrine, trying not to break the negative tension between us. I weakly broke my stare and sat down. I lay on the Netherrack and saw him coming. Before I could say anything, protest against him or anything of the sort, I passed out.

*TimeLapse*

I blinked groggily. My vision swam and a slate gray world flooded my vision. I blinked again and tried to sit up. Bad idea. My head throbbed painfully. I blinked again and found myself in a jail cell. I saw Herobrine walking down the plain hallway.

I bared my teeth. "Why am I in here?" I snarled.

"Because I can't have you leaving, can I?" He chuckled maniacally. "Anyways, I took the liberty of decorating it. Usually prison cells look like a bunch of stones with soiled cots, cauldrons, and bones. Though you do have a room for your toilet."

I looked around at my surroundings. The bed, which was a nice four-poster, had a quality mattress that was soft and fluffy. There was white carpet on the floor and-though sloppily- the walls were painted green to mirror my bedroom. The ceiling was still gray, though.

The realization settled on me at this moment. For a prisoner he valued and was going to let go-not that Herobrine has a reputation for letting prisoners go-, he wouldn't have decorated. I wasn't going anywhere soon. "When will you let me go?" I whispered, more to myself than him.

"Depends. Stretches from whenever your use fades, to when I see fit, to never. Besides, I'll let you out for...ah, expeditions," he smiled wolfishly at the last part. I shuddered, turning away.

"Go away," I moaned. My head throbbed and my burns ached. I huddled in the corner with my head between my knees.

"Need anything?" He lazily took out a convenient toothpick and started picking his teeth.

"Two things: you to let me go and leave me alone," I snapped from my isolated corner.

"Anything I can get you?" He ignored my comment.

"A few thousand Band-Aids," I spat sarcastically. Herobrine left. I crept to the bars, looking at the other cells. He was right, they did only have cauldrons and cots and bones.

He came back, and before I could dart away, whipped out a bunch of Band-Aids, grinning evilly. He placed them in his hands and yelled, "Make it rain!!!" A flurry of Band-Aids smothered me. I spat one out of my mouth, shaking them off.

"You know damn well what I meant!" I yelled, stomping my foot, a gesture that was effective yet painful in my weakened state. He smiled at me and tossed a container of whitish burn salve and some Neosporin. I caught them and went to my corner, hastily applying the medicine. I climbed into bed to rest, miserably accepting my fate of living in a prison.