Withered

Chapter 11

"That's what I was hoping for." Soren's voice trembles in relief, stepping down to hand me the super TNT and a crafting table. My right arm, trembling in its exhaustion, grabs hold of it.

"Wait!" Olivia pushes her way up to me, terror blasted on her face. "You can't do this! If this bomb can kill the Wither Storm then you don't stand a chance!"

I smile, glad that I still have the enderman mask on so she can only see the smile. "None of us stand a chance if this bomb doesn't go off, it's okay Olivia. I'm fine with this, although I'm going to need that gunpowder."

"Jesse..." Olivia whimpers as she pulls it out, and I try really hard so my arm doesn't tremble. "You don't have any armor or anything to protect you and you'll die. An-and you just can't die."

"Well he won't be!" I pocket the gunpowder, Magnus's booming voice adding another layer of strain on my ears. "Take my armor, trust me on this one. This thing has gotten me out of a lot of big booms."

"Please, my armor is much higher grade. You should take mine, I swear it will protect you."

My brain, my weary brain nursing a thundering headache, tries to weigh the choices as the two argue again. The Wither Storm, always roaring in the background, urging me faster. Magnus's seems lighter than Ellegaard's, easier to move in, that's a good idea. I can't handle the weight of metal armor.

I step to Magnus, at least his fuzzy image, my legs wobbling again as balance and muscles have to work again. It's okay though, I just have to get through this. This one last thing, and I'm good. I'm done. This is what I have to do to keep my friends safe.

In a blur, I put on the armor, still not daring to take off the mask. My head almost a million miles from where I'm at right now. The numbing idea of death, the dreadful sense if I should fail, a whirlwind of fatigue and pain surrounding my head. All of it though is nothing, nothing compared to what I need to do.

A earth shattering roar shakes the air, my good arm even snapping to life to protect my ears. It's go time then, and that was probably the perfect thing to get any last drops of adrenaline to get in my blood.

We all run forward, and thankfully my legs carry up the stairs of the bridge. Not throwing me off balance, and while I can feel them wobble, they've gone numb to exhaustion and pain. Hopefully they'll stay that way, I just can't fail.

"Jesse you'll have to set down the crafting table out there and make that Formidi-Bomb." Soren's words crash reality on me, my ears throbbing to hear him as the Wither Storm bellows. "Everyone else, grab a buddy and spilt up. We need to keep that Wither Storm on tract so build build build!"

Purple rains down on us, my legs heavy as I stagger forward. Dark green tinted purple all around me, my mind almost giving up on my sight and just relying on my ears to get where I'm going. Almost, the huge cloud of darkness with beams shooting out has my completely undivided and terrified attention.

"Jesse!" My attention jerks to Soren, my heart hammering painfully in my chest. "Don't forget! Super TNT in the middle and gunpowder all around!"

My head bobbles in a nod, fear and agony piercing into me. The realization of failure crashing down and throwing my mind in turmoil. No long is it a numb idea, but an searing reality. My legs screaming in fatigue and screaming at me to stop this, that if I keep sprinting like this I'm going to fall and fail.

Air burns into my lungs, my right arm desperately trying to pump as every twitch of my left arm sends lighting bolts drilling into my mind. My balance tearing apart as my head drowns under the roars and thundering heartbeat.

Roots creak as they are dragged up from the ground, my mad sprint forward degrading down into chaotic stumbling and running mix. The ground shifting below me as I try to keep going forward, running towards the big black storm of death.

My ears strain for any noises around me, my eyes throbbing with my pulse and speckled with black dots. A tentacle, a huge one, cracks, my legs collapsing the moment trees burst. Branches and splinters cutting into Magnus's armor, my sight completely knocked into blackness when one hits my head.

Get up! Get up now!

Groaning, my legs twitch. Almost refusing to obey me until I force my friends into the turmoil of my headache. I have to get up, for them. This is it. This is all I have to do, nothing else matters. All this pain will end soon enough if I just get up.

My legs surge, but even then I lurch on my arm and push up on the trembling limb. Staggering to a run again, the blob of black getting so close. Ears ever shrieking at me at how close I'm getting to this storm of death. Heart and lungs thrashing and bleeding as I sprint forward, the thought of my friends dying keeping them going.

Every time my legs wobble, almost collapsing under me, I keep telling myself I'll get a break after this. This is it, there's no stopping. If I stop my friends die, and I don't care how agonizing it is to keep on running. I'm not letting them die! This pain doesn't matter! They can't die!

The nightmarish roars crash over my head, my failing eyes looking striaght up at the black void of death. My whole body trembling and buckling as I place the crafting table. Leaning on it at once, gapsing and wheezing as I pull out the ingredients. Ready to cough out a lung but dare not stop the rush of oxygen. Just build the bomb and everyone will be safe, that's all that matters.

I almost, almost collapse with utter relief when I put the super TNT in the middle. But then my arm, the pain which I've been attacking with the lives of my friends, burns and dies. Shrieks and writhes in excruciating agony. Pure withering torture searing through my mind, a distant scream reaching my ears only pain crashes and explodes in my tiny tiny body.

Gravity and senses dies and sprawl out uselessly. Only the thought of failing, of letting my friends die, let's a few strangling ideas fight through the storm of agony. The first being that I'm not hearing a bomb sizzle, my eyes straining in this purple beam of indescribable torture to see just specks floating around me.

Crying out, my arm is going to rot and fall off soon enough, I reach out to them. Every thought boiling in agony and screaming that it doesn't matter. This pain will end, and I have to make sure my friends don't end with it. I can't stop!

In a frantic and deranged way, I sweep up the ingredients. Exhausted and withering limbs stretching and contorting, tears pouring out and onto the mask. Forcing me to make a mental note of where the crafting table is through all the seething daggers of death digging into me as my sight completely dies.

My arm doesn't have muscles or bones or anything other than nerves alight in lightning bolts of pain. My right digging into the last shards of its energy as I scoop up each ingredient.

Fiery breaths huff and puff from me as I somehow impossibly scrounge up the strength to get to the table. Everything going numb and heavy, terrifying me as the roars get louder. Just place the ingredients, ignore the agony, save everyone, keep your friends alive. I can't fail! This is it! Just do this!

I drop the last ingredient in place, the whirl of energy almost nonexistent to me as I drop. Falling from consciousness immediately, just existing in pain and waiting for it all to end. I did it, I built the bomb. Please let my friends be okay now, there's nothing else I can do.

The pain and exhaustion jolts, causing me to gasp out and then violently cough. I can't tell what's happening, it hurts, it all hurts so much. My arm is dead to me for all I care, and I wouldn't be surprised if my eyes never recover from this.

Consciousness explodes though when a wave ripples through me, panic streaking through me as everything disintegrates into a boiling mess. I sense pain and exhaustion as I'm hurtled, gravity yanking on me as the terrible force shoves me back.

Things go numb as I slam into something, hearing the distinct crack of branches as every hit sends another wave of confusion and numbness. When it all finally stops, when everything finally comes to halt, is when I cannot support consciousness any longer.