Protectors Are For Weaklings (Completed)

Herobrine

Another hall is empty. Remember how I said I hated halls? I plan to blow up all the halls when I get out of this place, with Phase, of course.

Is Phase really worth all of  that trouble?

I blink, and suddenly sense a figure coming closer. It's the red bandana dude, coming from the other end of the hallway. Seriously, what side is he on?

I'd much rather prefer that you don't call me 'the red bandana dude'... Ethan is more preferable.

Before I could process what he had said, I was thrown against the wall by Ethan. What the Nether? I narrow my eyes before teleporting behind him, drawing Ender out.

He was already facing that way. "Herobrine, I'd also much rather that you don't pick a fight with me. If I do remember correctly, I helped you escape."

"I could have fought those guards myself," I mutter, one hand placed against the wall. "You probably just had to do that to look good in front of me..."

"Great minds think alike," Ethan said, and let me go. I teleport a ways away from him, just to be safe. "Although, I must s-"

A blank look overcame his face. I stared, and when he fully recovered, he coughed ever so slightly. Poison...?

"That was... Nothing." A smile overcame his face, and he drew his weapon. "Notch wants you alive. Although, I can't guarantee that's how you will stay in his custody."

I had to get out of here. Ender was still in my hands, its dark edges just waiting to be unleashed on his flesh.

He surprised me by taking the first swipe. I ducked it quite easily. As long as it wasn't one of the three, I would be safe.

And it wasn't. But those can still hurt me, if that's what you're wondering.

I strike Ender against his sword, and I wasn't surprised when his sword didn't naturally break in two like a stick. That's how normal swords are supposed to work against mine.

And so we fought.

- - -

Us two figures in the dark hallways looked like neither one would stop until he found the other one dead. I kick him square in the jaw, and then he fell down, and went limp. I stared at him.

My vision went swirly, how it did every time I found a victim like this, free to my mercy at the bottom of my feet. Just one small stroke, and then he will be dead.

If that was my monster inside my head, then who was this by my feet?

I ran. I ran as fast as I could throughout the halls until I reached a dead end. But at that dead end were bars separated by less than a block each: another cell.

And inside that cell was Phase.

I try teleporting inside, but I know it's useless before I try. The cell's meant to keep an Enderman inside after all, even if he is still inside a human's body, and teleporting is more natural to him than teleporting is for me.

Nevertheless, I throw my body against it, trying to break the bars apart by sheer will. "Phase, I will get you out of there, if that's the last thing I do!"

Finally, Phase looks up at me, but something is odd. Did he always have those green eyes? Weren't they always purple? "What did they do to you-" I stutter before realizing his left hand was completely missing.

"Oh, I can get out, all right," he said. Something wasn't right with his voice. Phase shows me a pair of keys, and unlocks the chains by his wrist and the door leading inside. Dumbfounded, I start to back away, the light from my eyes washing everything in a milky white.

"You're mine now," it says, and Phase's short black hair changes into long black hair. I feel like I should know her from somewhere, but it is too late.

I am trapped by a shapeshifter known as Raven, while trying to save my shapeshifter friend.

- - -

A painful white light was met when I attempted to close my eyes. You know, these white eyes don't really respond well with light. At first, I didn't want to attempt to open them at all. But then loud cries and whoops bring me out of my stupor - and hard.

I can feel my heart beat faster as I see all of the crowd around me. A faint cry of despair rouse within me somewhere, and I couldn't help to think But I still haven't saved Phase yet!

Yep, I just woke up to meet the crowds of my own execution.

My eyes dart around the arena, and I notice that this particular area of it was pretty small. So they won't give me a chance to fight. I start to claw at the restraints around my wrists, anything really, to try to make myself try to do something.

That's when I see something similar to a look-alike of me.

Standing there with an almost identical cyan shirt and dark navy jeans, the only difference was where I had my white eyes, he had his jealousy-inducing blue ones. I narrow my eyes at him, and he immediately backs away.

Since I was still waking up, it took a while for all my senses to kick in once and for all. My hearing was only functional after I saw Markus' mouth move for a full sixty ticks.

"Are there any other people who would like to speak, and to put this prisoner in more deserved guilt?"

My scoff at his words slowly become a full out laugh, as if he had said the funniest thing in the world. Steve had to legitimately hold me back, in fear that my laughter could break the chains.

A man with what looked like his family stood up to speak. It was only him who stood up, so Markus must have been at this little "like me because I let you speak" thing for a while.

"I remember this one time when he stole everything we had, and blew up our whole place," the man said, and what must have been his wife filled us in when he forgot an oh-so-precious little detail.

Others followed with their speeches about how terrible I was, and I didn't remember any of them. Me killing dozens at an orphanage? Unspeakable. Me... Yeah, you don't need to hear the other accuses.

At the end of one, Notch suddenly looked at me, with a look I couldn't quite name. We locked eyes, and I remembered how we used to play with each other in our yard. How we used to laugh at each other's meaningless jokes.

How... How I needed to stay alive to take care of Amara, and Phase.

I recognized the look now. It was a look of utter finality.

"Crap, Herobrine, I hope you ain't dead yet!"

A/N Is it healthy to write nothing for a week and then write three chapters in one day.

No, I thought not.