Minecraft Oneshots

Hunted Blood Prompt Fill

Based on a prompt by CandyThePuppy.

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Steven Stonewall was accustomed to strange encounters in his line of work, but this one really took the cake.

As one of the very few humans on the planet with the blood type XO+, his occupation, that of being a portable source of blood, was one he was forced into from the time he became of age and size to safely draw his special blood from. It paid well, and he lived a comfortable life, but it was hardly quiet. He basically had no option to settle down - his blood, unfortunately, did not keep well. So, he was hauled around the world on a regular basis, necessary due to his blood's properties of being safe for several other, even rarer blood types.

He didn't dislike the travel, he saw amazing things that many people would never see in their lifetimes. He also met hundreds of interesting and unique people, from royalty to the simplest of farmers. He enjoyed the adventure, the thrill, and all it cost him was his blood to be used to save people's lives. Honestly, he had it pretty good.

But a murderer?? This was the man whom he had been hauled across the world to save??

The man was in handcuffs when Steven first saw him, cuffed to the railings of the hospital bed he lay dazed in. His eyes fluttered open when the door swung against the wall, and Steven shuddered as he was guided onto the bed set beside him. His eyes were pure white.

"Please, don't worry about a thing." A blonde nurse urged him as he lay back onto the stiff mattress. "He's drugged and firmly secured, there's no way he can hurt you." Steve gave her a stiff nod as she hiked up his sleeve, swabbed a patch of skin on his forearm with a sterilizing pad, then stepped away to prepare the transfusion. Steven's eyes wandered to the recipient, and shivered again when he found those pale eyes on him. How disturbing.

The man he had come to save was known as "Herobrine", a serial killer who had finally been subdued in a firefight with police. Despite his almost feral countenance and wild nature, rather than opting to execute him right away it had been decided that he would have a trial like any other killer. While Steven admired their loyalty to the path of justice, he wished he didn't have to be the one that kept him alive.

The man's shirt was off, bloodstained bandages coating his torso. He had reportedly been shot several times in the firefight, it was a miracle he was still alive at all. Gritting his teeth, Steven looked away, choosing to focus on a medical poster on the far wall instead.

"...heeeeyyy..." The word reached his ears in a cross between a growl and a purr, and he whirled around with wide eyes at the sound of the man's voice. "Herobrine"s mouth was parted in a grin, and Steve grimaced. His teeth were pointed, and he couldn't help but wonder if they had a function in his killings. Those handcuffs were suddenly looking a lot less secure.

"Y'ur... the guy to s-save me..." The murderer croaked. "Huh?" Steven hesitated, frowning. Normally, he enjoyed talking to those he could save. In this case, however...

"That's right." He answered softly. The man stared silently, then chuckled a bit.

The blonde nurse returned to his side, and the other man lapsed into silence as a needle was slid into Steven's upper arm. He barely flinched. He was used to this. The other man, however, let out an animalistic growl and a hiss as the needle approached. The nurse was unfazed, and a second needle was soon pumping precious blood into his body. She only stayed for a moment longer, ensuring that the machine was running correctly, before leaving them alone.

Steven side-eyed the man once more, meeting his eyes. Surely he wouldn't try to escape a procedure that was saving his life, right?

"How does it feel?" The growl-purr echoed through the room once more. "To know that you are saving the life of one who has taken so many?" Steven didn't respond, his fingers curling around the armrest of the hospital bed. "Does it hurt? Do you feel guilt?"

"Do you?" Steve cut in, desperately hoping he hadn't antagonized the man. Herobrine's grin only widened.

"No."

"Do you know what's going to happen to you?" Steve continued. "You're going to die. If not now, before a firing squad, you will die of old age in a rancid cell. Was it worth it? Were all the lives you took worth it for- for the high?"

"I don't think you-" The man cut off with a raspy cough. "Understand. No, no, you don't understand. No one-"

"If you're trying to get me to sympathize with you, it won't work." Steve cut him off. "You're a murderer of innocents, and that is unforgivable."

"They weren't innocent!"

The shout caught him off guard, and Steven's head snapped to the side at the intensity in the killer's voice. Gone was the mocking, the nonchalance. Herobrine's face was stiff, expression dead serious.

"None of them," He repeated quietly, "were innocents." Steve hesitated, then prompted.

"Then... how do you mean?"

"My best friend was killed by his father." The words came out in a rush, almost as if they weren't meant to come out at all. "I knew he was cruel, I did everything I could to help, but he killed him." The dam was broken, and the words spilled over one another as Herobrine held his gaze. "There was no evidence. El was- Eli was found under a bridge miles away. But I knew he had done it, I knew, and he admitted it before I killed him."

"There was a little girl, she was- a man owned her, I saw him buy her in a back alley." Herobrine's eyes were wild, his gaze dropping to his own hand, cuffed to the side of the bed. "He dragged her around like a dog, I didn't wait to see how he would treat her behind closed doors. I killed him."

"A man poisoned his wife and children to collect their life insurance. I killed him."

"A woman was selling drugs to teenagers, schoolchildren, prompting them to share them with their classmates to get more of a market. I killed her."

"A bartender who assisted men in drugging the women they were attracted to. A woman who charmed men, young and old, before killing them and robbing their corpses. A man who knowingly sold dangerously toxic food to poor families to make a profit. I killed. Them. All."

Steven could only watch as the stories came out, one after the other. At first, he was skeptical. But the emotion on the man's face was true, genuine, and he felt a pang in his heart at the sight of a tear that trailed down Herobrine's face.

"No, I don't feel guilt." His voice was soft again. "And yes, it was worth it."

The room lapsed into silence, the only sound the humming of the machine as it transferred Steve's precious blood from one man to the other.

Then Steven Stonewall reached over, placing his hand over Herobrine's cuffed one, and gave it a little squeeze.