Minecraft: a Novel

The Final Battle: Pt II

I was in a relatively small chamber. It looked like a bedroom. A regular, minecraft bedroom.

There was a bed, a crafting bench, some chests, a few furnaces, and everything else a crafter needed. But where was Herobrine?

My question was answered with a laugh and a light.

A small fireball popped up out of nowhere from across the room. Holding it materialized a person. Someone who looked like me, but had bright white eyes.

My arms shook. This was it. I was here. I was going to kill Herobrine.

Herobrine laughed and threw his fireball at me. I dodged it as it blew up a bookshelf behind me.

"Why do you do this to everyone?" I asked.

Herobrine just laughed and threw another fireball. I jumped to the side and dodged it yet again.

I raised my sword. His sword. "Look what I have!"

For the first time, Herobrine seemed surprised. "Why do you have my sword?" He hissed.

"It's mine now!" I yelled. I ran towards him, his sword out in front of me.

Herobrine crouched, ready to retaliate.

I sliced at his legs and he jumped up. I'd already learned my lesson about people jumping on my sword, so I backed away quickly and jabbed at his chest. Suddenly, a chestplate appeared on his torso, bouncing my sword off. Then it dissapeared.

""What the-" I said, backing up.

Herobrine, back on the ground, laughed. "It isn't easy to defeat me, so I'll make a deal."

I kept my sword in front of me, but nodded. "What do you want?"

Herobrine cocked his head to the side and a man walked in, his arms bound and mouth gagged. My father.

"Kill him, and I let you and your puny friends live," Herobrine offered. I choked, knowing that Preston and Jane were already dead.

My dad fell on the floor.

I walked over to him and stuck my sword out. My father winced.

"Stop playing the cards like you're in control, Herobrine! This is an even playing field!" I said angrily. "Why do you want him dead?"

"My own reasons," Herobrine said casually.

"They're mine too! He's my dad!"

Herobrine smiled, looking amused. "He's no use to me anymore."

I looked down at my father and brought down my sword to his face, only to cut off his gag.

"Why should I let you live?" I asked my father calmly.

"Perhaps I shall lift the spell for this part?" Herobrine interrupted.

"Spell?" I asked.

Herobrine summoned a pickaxe (from his inventory I guess) and stabbed it into the ground once.

My dad shivered and then gasped. "Gregor!" He exclaimed.

"You- you possessed him!" I yelled to Herobrine, who just smiled.

"Gregor," my dad said, "I love-" he never finished. A pickaxe was in his heart.

I couldn't breathe. I felt like my square lungs were being squeezed. "D- Dad?" I choked.

I looked to Herobrine. The pickaxe was no longer on the ground in front of him. He had killed my father. He had me find out that my father was innocent through everything, and killed him.

He was never going to have me kill my father.

He was never going to let the HH go.

"You. Are. A. Monster!" I yelled. "No one will ever love you. No one will ever praise your existance! No one will ever be happy you lived! You will never be happy!" I raised my sword, ready to kill him. Ready to kill the man who ruined my life, killed my friends, my family.

Herobrine merely laughed and summoned another pickaxe to fight with.

I ran towards him and struck. He caught my blade with his and twisted, throwing my sword back. That just gave me more momentum to strike it back at him again.

His own sword sliced him in the leg, causing him to howl out in pain.

"How does that feel, Herobrine? How does pain feel? You're too cowardly to know," I yelled out, my voice cruel and harsh.

Herobrine gritted his teeth and sloppily swung his pickaxe.

I evaded his attack and sliced again. Herobrine moved back again and hacked his pickaxe sideways at my head. I ducked and jabbed at his stomach. Another chestplate appeared and disappeared.

"No!" Herobrine yelled, getting angry. "I will always be the most powerful!"

Then there was the explosion. No amount of yelling Herobrine could do would ever outdo the noise of this explosion. Even the one in the cave wasn't as loud.

The blast blew me back. My eyes were closed and pain coursed through my veins. I felt my sword fly from my grip. The convoy was completely destroyed and I found myself lying next to Jane's body, my hand on her armored stomach. She had died the way she lived, leading her troops for what they believed in.

I could feel soft rain on my face. It seemed peaceful, but the sounds of battle were not far off.

My eyes opened and I saw Herobrine heading towards me, unharmed from his explosion.

"Do you want to know what it feels like to be killed by your own sword?" He asked, wielding Herobrine's Sword.

"I don't care, Herobrine, because I know something you will never know, no matter how many times someone tells it to you," I said, my voice cracking. I grabbed Jane's dead hand.

Herobrine stared at me with his cold white eyes and I almost felt pity for him. He would never win. He would never be content. "Pray tell," he said.

"No matter how powerful you are," I said, "you are so very weak."

The sword entered my heart.

Unknowingly, I closed my eyes.