Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Sometimes you felt the world could've been different. You know it had to have been at some point. After all, mineshafts, temples, and other structures don't randomly appear out of nowhere. Maybe there were once others like you. Again, there had to have been. But it doesn't mean much when there aren't other humans now. You felt so...isolated.

You remember back toward the very beginning, everything looked so promising. You could do whatever you wanted, whenever you wanted. It felt nice at first. But, slowly as the hours passed, reality sunk in. Where was everyone else? I mean, sure there were the villagers you spotted earlier, but they didn't seem to truly understand. You didn't think you could have actual conversations with them. So, you steered away. Truth be told, you were mostly frightened by this new environment to try anything. You just sat there, by the creek, staring at the fish. Red, brown, yellow. You began to shake from the dropping temperature as the sun was disappearing. Instead of building like your instincts screamed at you to do, you ran into a cave. Biggest mistake of your life.

Even now, you could still feel the jaws biting into your flesh. The arrows piercing your back. The blood soaking through your clothes as your tears were streaming down your cheeks. Worse, the taunts and death glares as you were running out. You just couldn’t stop shaking.

The taunts. It meant they could speak to you, they knew what you were. They could do what the villagers couldn't. That was the first time you felt truly hopeless; the only beings that understood you... wanted you dead.

Chapter Text

"Where is it!?"

You guessed that he was referring to you. He couldn't see you clutching your stone pickaxe as you were crouching in the house behind the watchtower. Most of the villagers were outside, investigating the commotion. Others stayed locked up in their houses. Two villager children were sitting beside you, the ones you called Lilac and Allium, evidently based on their respective flowers they each carried around.

You shakily sighed. You probably shouldn't have broken into the pillagers' tower. Or killed that one pillager captain.

You didn't even want to go near that tower; you only ran in there to avoid getting shot by their crossbows. You encountered the pillagers when you emerged to the surface after you finished mining. Nothing you mined was particularly useful. The easiest way to find valuable resources would be to mine in a cave, but you weren't ready for that after the incident. You shuddered thinking about it. Needless to say, once you were trapped in the tower, the only way you could think to escape was to destroy it. Clearly, that angered the pillagers.

You began to get anxious as you observed the exchange through the window. The conversation between the pillager and the villager started to get heated. Iron golems were standing behind the villagers, waiting for when things got violent. Across from them, behind the pillagers, was a massive ravager getting ready to charge.

How did they even find you? You're pretty sure that none of them followed you back. Heck, you didn't see another trace of them until now. You only remember that as you were returning to the village, you were feeling a little...different. It almost felt as if you had a curse, or some sort of omen. But that wouldn't have anything to do with this...would it?

Maybe it would have been better if you didn't arrive to this village in the first place. Although you couldn't understand them, the villagers acted friendly towards you when you finally decided to visit. You got along with the children quite easily; they looked at you with wonder when they first saw you. You didn’t look anything like them, and they had never seen a human before. Lilac and Allium took an immense liking to you. They would constantly drag you around the village to play their games. In addition, you were provided food as long as you contributed to the farming. Plus, the iron golems kept most of the mobs away, which meant you could sleep in peace. But now it seemed you only brought the people here bad luck in return. You couldn't help but feel guilt consuming you.

You snapped back to the present and saw that the pillagers were starting to act more threatening. It was a miracle that they haven't attacked already. You looked down and saw the two children shaking in fear.

“I'm so sorry,” you whispered to them. You finally made a decision.

You stood up and began walking towards the back door. Before leaving, you took one last glance at Lilac and Allium.

“Stay here, stay together, and don't look outside, okay?”

They nodded and held each other closer. With that, you exited the house, dragging your pickaxe behind you. You slowly walked up to where the dispute was taking place and attempted to draw their attention.

“Um, over-”

The pillagers immediately turned their heads towards you, making you slightly jump. Their glares intensified.

You took a small breath, hoping to keep yourself from trembling.

“Listen, I'm here, you can do whatever you want with me, just please leave everyone else alone,” you begged.

The pillagers raised their eyebrows at each other and discussed in a language you didn't understand. Their supposed leader narrowed his eyes.

“Do you really think that'll be enough?” he drawled.

Stunned by his response, you didn't say anything. You gripped onto your pickaxe tighter.

He noticed the tool.
“Drop it.”

Understandably, you didn't want to lose your only weapon. But you really had no choice.

You looked to the side and tossed your pickaxe a few inches away, not necessarily towards the pillagers, but far enough from you to avoid provoking them.

The leader then continued speaking.
“Obviously you possess nothing of great value, and nothing you know is of any use to us. But, I know something that'll make things a little more interesting.” His lips turned slightly upward once he finished speaking the last part.

You couldn't fathom what he was referring to until you heard small screams from behind you. Your eyes immediately widened; you hoped, you prayed, that they didn't belong to whom you were thinking of.

Your prayers were in vain. You watched in horror as two pillagers each held a child in their arms with an axe to each of their throats. Lilac and Allium.

“No, no please, please don't hurt them!” you pleaded.

“Up to you,” he responded as the two pillagers pressed the axes deeper. The children cried out in pain, and your breathing became more erratic.

“They're only kids,” you quietly replied.

The leader tilted his head as he pretended to ponder your comment and smirked.
"Alright. Then pick one."

You looked back at the villagers, seeing the same petrified expression on their faces. They too, were hopeless to the situation, as crossbows were aimed directly at them. The iron golems remained still, not wanting to worsen the situation.

You turned your head back to the kids. They looked at you with tears pooling down their cheeks. Their small, innocent eyes stared directly into yours as if they were saying, "please don't let me die." You looked at the intruders and once again tried to reason with them.

“There has to be something else-” you quickly said.

“Pick one.”

“No, listen, if you leave them-”

"Pick one."

“No, no you...please don't… you can't… you can't do that! I'll do anything you want, just...just let them go and-”

“I've had enough of this,” he impatiently growled. He nodded at the two pillagers.

You swore you saw the clouds come crashing down. The leaves on the ground whirled away from the shift in atmosphere, and the sunflowers bent downward from the loss as the sun setted. The pillagers slit the Lilac and Allium’s throats right in front of you, causing the red liquid to splash onto your clothes. You couldn't remember ever screaming this loud.

The golems reacted immediately as they began to attack. The villagers went into a panic as they desperately tried to get into their homes to avoid the raid.

Your eyes glanced up and saw darkness taking over the sky. More monsters would be out soon.

You knew you weren't strong enough to defend the village, and that you would only die with everyone else if you tried.

You had no choice but to leave.

You ran while your tears blurred your vision. You ran as fast as you could without ever looking back. You ran away just like you ran away from that cave. The pillagers tried to keep you in their sights, but they failed.

You stopped near a dirt hill, and looked for any place that you could hide in. You couldn't stay exposed at night.

Your heart thumped faster when you heard voices and heavy footsteps around you. There was no way you could escape without getting into further trouble. So, you did the only thing you could do.

You dug down.

Chapter Text

You were starting to feel immensely exhausted. You've been digging for god knows how long. You didn't have any tools with you, meaning you had to break stone with your bare hands, elongating the process. The bruises on your knuckles proved it.

You were planning to only make a small dirt hole to stay in until sunrise, but you kept getting paranoid and couldn't sleep. Plus, you couldn't stand staying in such a cramped space doing nothing. You felt the need to do something, anything.

Distracted by your thoughts, you got extremely startled when you suddenly fell a good ten feet. You harshly landed on the ground, scraping your palms in the process.

Right. Never dig straight down. You felt like an idiot for forgetting that simple rule.

You slowly lifted your head up and realized you were staring directly at some broken rails. You also noticed a chest in a minecart a few feet ahead and some wood railings directly above. An abandoned mineshaft.

You pushed yourself up and decided to approach the chest. Hopefully it had something you could use. The chest creaked as you opened it. You peeked inside and saw three pieces of bread, some lapis, and…

An iron pickaxe!

You gleefully grabbed the pickaxe, happy to finally have something to defend yourself with. You took the bread with you as well, and deemed the lapis as worthless. How useful could lapis be at the moment anyway?

You took some time to get used to the feeling of the iron pickaxe in your hand. It was heavier than the stone pickaxe you usually carried, but no doubt more helpful.

In your peripheral vision, you spotted what seemed to be a spider crawling around the corner. Not wanting to get bit, you took this as your cue to leave, and began to look for the nearest exit.

You swore you've been here before. Or, maybe it was just an exact replica of a previous area. The wooden ledges and the placement of the fences looked the same, but it was hard to tell. It would've been smarter to make some sort of marking in each area you visited. Gosh, why can't you come up with this stuff beforehand?

You chewed on your last piece of stale bread with one hand while dragging your pickaxe behind you with the other. You've realized that there may not be a direct exit back to the surface, not one that hadn't already been destroyed. You should probably just start mining through a random wall a staircase up to the surface, and hope you don't end up at another pillager camp.

Your heart suddenly dropped when you heard a flurry of quiet footsteps from behind you, along with a tiny growl.

Before you could do anything further, you felt a stinging sensation in your left calf, causing you to yelp painfully and trip onto the ground. You immediately looked over and saw a small figure's teeth sinking into your leg and his nails digging into your skin, leaving angry red marks.

A zombie.

You desperately attempted to kick him off with your right foot. Eventually, you succeeded, giving you enough time to stand up and run while trying to ignore the shouts of protest from your leg. However, he followed close behind you.

How were you supposed to outrun him? The kids were way faster than the adults. You dreaded the thought of having to attack him, as your moral tendencies held you back. It wasn't a good survival instinct, but you couldn't help it. He may have been a monster, but he was still a child. Something inside you kept you from going that far. Maybe it was because you wanted to prove to yourself that the outside world wouldn't influence you, that it wouldn't turn you into something twisted. You wanted to believe that one you got through this, you would still be the same you.

You realized with horror that you've reached a dead end. You thought that the wooden ledges on the ceiling at the end of the hallway would indicate another path. You heard the zombie getting closer.

Without thinking, you knocked over the fences on the walls, caging yourself into a small space. The baby zombie ran into it, sticking his green hands through the holes while aggressively waving them around, trying to reach you.

After a few minutes of failed attempts, he narrowed his eyes and pouted his lips. He stared at you and shrieked,

“No fair! Let me in!”

He repeatedly tugged on the fence posts. You took a few seconds to calm your breathing and gave a half smile while you replied,

“Sorry, but not a chance, green pea.” He was kind of adorable.

He grinded his teeth at your statement and yelled out,

“I'm gonna rip your intestines out and shove 'em in your empty eye sockets!”

Okay, maybe not.

You were terrified at first, but looking at how small he was made it difficult for you to take him completely seriously. You sighed and tiredly said,

“Don't you have anything better to do? Like, isn't it past your bedtime or something?”

You cringed at how cliche that sounded. You were never the best at social interaction.

The zombie stopped moving his hands around as his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Weirdo. What's a bedtime?”

Oh, right. Zombies probably didn't even need sleep. What would be the point? They were already dead. Actually, why even bother thinking about it?

His eyes suddenly lit up when he finally understood. He smirked while asking,

“Oh, is it that thing that humans have to do to avoid getting attacked by phantoms? Yeah, I've heard about that.”

...what? What on earth was he talking about?

“Phan...toms?” you questioned.

He rolled his eyes and crossed his small arms.

“Yeah, those flying blue things that bite humans at night if they don't sleep.”

You looked to the side. Now you were just lost. Surely he was making this up to mess with you. Flying blue things? That had to be the strangest thing you've ever heard. Then again, what reason is there for it to not be possible? After all, there were things such as living zombies and tall, purple particle emitting creatures walking this planet.

The zombie awkwardly shifted on his legs, holding his hands behind his back. He surveyed you up and down with a perplexing look on his face. He couldn't seem to fully make a judgement while you were just sitting there. After all, you were most likely the only human he had ever seen.

You were feeling that stinging sensation on your left leg again, causing you to nearly wince. You were beginning to get a little annoyed at the kid for landing you in this situation. Here you were, having a small chitchat when you were supposed to be escaping. Slowly, you turned your head back towards him.

“Alright, fine. Flying blue things. Maybe now I don't have to worry about the nitwit green thing in front of me.”

You hoped that would have ended the conversation. He blinked a few times at you while processing what you said. Suddenly, his face contorted from confusion to rage.

“Why you... you just wait until my cousin gets here!” he shouted while banging his fists on the fences.

Wow, he had a lot of anger issues. Maybe you should have just walked away instead.

“Who should wait until I get there?” a deeper voice responded.

Your eyes widened. You knew immediately who that voice probably belonged to.

You heard footsteps coming towards your direction. The kid snickered at you. Panic settling in, you got up while trying to ignore the pain that shot up from your left calf. You turned around started mining your way through the stone wall. You heard the fences breaking behind you; you urged yourself to go faster, but your leg was holding you back.

Suddenly, you felt a bigger hand pull onto your right ankle from behind, causing you to fall onto your stomach.

When you looked behind you, you saw a bigger zombie dragging you back towards him. You swung your pickaxe at him as a means of freeing yourself, but it was a little hard to do it from your current position. He immediately catched the handle and stomped on your back with his left foot, keeping you from lifting yourself up. He grabbed your right wrist, held it to the floor, and smashed the tip of your pickaxe through the back of your right hand.

You froze, and you’re in too much shock to scream; you almost couldn't believe what you were seeing. The sharp edge of the pickaxe sliced straight through the back of your hand, through your palm, and was now stuck on the floor. Blood pooled around it. You let the situation sink in. He cut a hole right through your right hand. Oh god, how were you going to fix this? Your vision started to blur at the sight, and you felt a little light-headed.

He jerked the pickaxe out, causing you to cry out in pain, and shoved you onto your back. He placed the tip of the weapon under your left eye. Your own blood dripped from the tool onto your cheek. His eyes were glowing dangerously red, and he bore a threatening smile.

He drew the pickaxe closer to your eye, making you shut it close.

“Hmm… should I cut over here,” he pondered out loud. “...or…”
He dragged the weapon to your neck.
“...here?”

You couldn't stop glancing from the pickaxe to his face. You could no longer see the little zombie from earlier, most likely having run off.

You gazed at the zombie's face again.

“Don't-”

“Shut up!” he interrupted, making you flinch. He pushed the pickaxe deeper into your skin. Your right hand twitched from the damage done earlier.

He wasn't messing around.

You closed your eyes as you once again questioned your situation. What did they get out of this? You didn't remember ever doing anything to them. Was it possible that they were just that demented that they would enjoy this? Your mind wandered back to the village raid and the tragedy that struck. What could make them despise you so much to even go as far as killing children? Most importantly, is going on even worth it?

No, no you couldn't give up yet, not after surviving this long. If you gave up, it meant you would let them win. You were not starting over. Especially not because of a zombie.

With newfound confidence and anger, you opened your eyes and harshly brought your knee up between his legs. He lost his grip on the pickaxe, allowing you to yank it from his hand and push him off. You closed your eyes as brought your pickaxe down onto his head and immediately turned around. Without looking back, you quickly mined your way upward again, this time blocking the way you came from with cobblestone.

Chapter Text

It was a miracle you hadn't passed out from exhaustion. After having both your leg and your hand injured, it became even harder to mine upward through the stone. Without torches, you could barely make out what was in front of you. Instead, you had to feel your way around to guess how much further you had to go. Even though you could've really used one, you didn't take any breaks, deciding that getting back to the surface was more important. However, the mining was getting a little monotonous.

You felt relief wash over you when you finally felt soil in your palms. This time before you dug further, you made sure to listen for any threatening sounds. You really hoped it was daytime by now. You couldn't handle anymore monsters slicing you up.

After a few minutes of silence, you decided to take the risk. You got rid of the final pieces of dirt blocking your way. A small smile formed on your face when rays of sunshine filled the underground path. Content filled you as the warmth caressed your skin. Not wasting a second, you crawled out and limped as fast as you could to the nearest river. You desperately needed something to wrap your injuries, and paper from sugarcane would suffice for now.

You observed your surroundings and spotted a bluish stream. You headed in that direction.

Thankfully, the river you arrived to had sugarcane growing nearby, along with a set of trees not too far from there. Maybe things would work out for you after all.

You sat down and set your pickaxe to the side. You took a better look at your injuries, and couldn't help but cringe when you looked at your hand. The blood dried up, making a messy brown splatter on your palm. There was clearly a small hole in it, though slightly covered from the scrambled skin. You turned your hand over and saw that it wasn't much better. Being too intimidated, you didn’t inspect it further. You then glanced to your leg. It also had an equally unfortunate image. You hoped it hadn't gotten infected.

You gently put both your hand and your leg into the river. You gritted your teeth when pain shot up once again. Trying your best to ignore it, you carefully washed the dried blood off your skin. It was when you turned to the sugarcane that you realized you needed a crafting table.

You slowly stood up and ambled to the set of trees nearby, taking your pickaxe with you. You knew pickaxes weren't meant for cutting down trees, but you were in no condition to be using your hands.

A few minutes later, along with some stumbling, you managed to obtain one piece of wood, which was enough for now. You set it down and created some planks out of it. Now you just had to put it together.

“Oh my, looks like that will leave a nasty scar.”

You immediately froze as small static filled your ears. You glanced to the side and saw an extremely tall shadow. At the corner of your eye, you vaguely spotted some purple particles in the air. You knew exactly what that meant.

It's okay, just ignore him, and for God's sake don't turn around. Maybe then he would leave?

You breathed in sharply through your nose and continued building your crafting table. You felt a small victory once you finished. All you needed was the sugarcane.

Trying your best not to look at the Enderman, you started making your way back to the river. You could hear him teleporting a few feet ahead of you.

“I don't like being ignored,” he stated with a warning tone.

You pursed your lips while furrowing your eyebrows. If you wanted, you could just step into the river, and he would have no choice but to leave you alone. Only problem was that he would most likely be waiting for you when you inevitably got out. Besides, you don't want to make an Enderman angry; it would only lead to disastrous consequences.

What could hurt in a small conversation anyway? The silence and loneliness was getting to you. You needed someone to talk to who wouldn't attack you on sight.

You turned toward him but only looked down at his feet, like you were a small child in trouble with your mother.

“I can see that,” you simply said. Really? That was all you had to say? Well, so much for a conversation.

You quickly walked around him to collect the plants you needed, and started heading back. He followed close behind.

“Care to explain what happened?” the Enderman continued while a devious smile formed on his face. “I bet you're dying to tell me.”

Deciding to attempt at ignoring him again, you crafted some paper when you arrived to the same spot. All that was left was to cover up your wounds somehow. You could try layering the paper and then wrapping it around your leg. Would that work for your hand? It was a shame you hadn't found any iron ingots, then you would have been able to make some shears and get some wool. Yeah, wool would've been better than paper. Though, there was still a chance you could get it if you just killed a sheep. But you didn't like the sound of that. Perhaps when you got desperate enough.

You completely forgot about the Enderman until you heard that static in your head again. Right, answer the question.

“A...an accident,” you informed. You were beginning to feel a strange anxiety well up in your chest. Probably just from his presence. Were you ever going to be able to do something for yourself without having a stupid mob on your back?

“Obviously,” he said, annoyance dripping from his voice. “I mean what exactly happened.”

“Why do you even care?! Can't you see I'm preoccupied?!” you suddenly shouted. You felt your gut drop as soon as those words left your mouth.

Without a warning, he yanked your hair, holding onto it, and placed one of his claw-like hands onto your throat, digging in it a little. From this angle, you could see the top of his head. The static was extremely loud now.

“Would you like to say that to my face?” he threatened, his voice dangerously low.

“No, no I'm sorry, please don't,” you quietly begged. Tears pricked the corner of your eyes. You weren't afraid of death right now, you were afraid of how you would die. The Enderman was capable of doing so many worse things to you than any zombie could. What would he do? Cut your throat open? Rip your head off? Most importantly, how long would you have to suffer it? You closed your eyes, awaiting your fate.

However, a few tense moments later, he let go of you.
“Hmm, alright.”

What the heck?

You nearly looked at him with disbelief before catching yourself and instead looking to the side of his head. That was it? He spared you just like that? You tightened your lips into a thin line when you saw him slightly smirk. You might actually prefer the monsters that continually attacked you. At least then you could understand their intentions easily. With neutral monsters, you had to constantly watch yourself to do nothing that would tick them off.

You turned around while wiping your eyes and felt if there were any marks left on your throat. It seemed to be fine. The Enderman remained in his spot while observing you, but didn't say anything further. Trying to focus on your original task again, you eventually somewhat wrapped paper around your hand and leg. It looked more like a messy papier-mâché project than a bandage. Maybe you should just get over it and kill some sheep. You needed food anyway.

It wasn't until you felt a slight chill on your skin that you noticed that the sun was going down. No, no already?! Did this whole thing really take you the entire day? You weren't prepared in the slightest, and you didn't know of any nearby shelter. You were definitely not digging a dirt hole again.

You quickly gathered your materials and looked around, contemplating your dilemma. You could make a run for it and avoid most of the mobs, but that wouldn't help against skeletons. They were quite fast at hunting their prey. Climbing up a tree wasn't an option since spiders would be able to reach you. Was there really nothing you could do?

Wait, unless…

You suddenly turned around and grabbed the Enderman's hand, surprising you both.

“You have to know someplace I can hide,” you pleaded while staring at his hand.

“What- what are you-”

“I can't live another night outside.”

“Do you actually think I would help-”

“Please,” you said as you squeezed his hand tighter.

You heard him make a thoughtful sound in his throat. You really hoped what you were doing wasn't about to get you killed.

Finally, he made a sound of content as if he made up his mind.

“Fine. If you run a few yards behind me, there's a small dent- it’s not a cave- in a mountain where you can hide.”

You shut your eyes with relief when he answered.
“Thank you,” you quietly replied.

You quickly let go of his hand and ran around him to your destination. He simply stared at your shrinking figure until you became too small for him to see. He looked down at the hand you grabbed and shook his head as he teleported away.

“Humans.”

Chapter Text

You were starting to get miserable from the sound of rapid raindrops hitting the ground in front of you. The undesirable weather made the night even colder than what you were used to. However, you were thankful that it at least wasn't a thunderstorm.

The Enderman wasn't lying about the spot in the mountain. In fact, it seemed to be the only suitable shelter available in that area. Your injuries were now properly bandaged. On the way, you had decided to swallow your mind's protests and finally get wool from a sheep in a less humane way. You couldn’t really decide whether you regretted it or not. Your mind was numb to that at the moment.

You leaned your head back against the wall and closed your eyes. Your mind wandered back to what happened hours ago near the plethora of trees. You were still confused on what drove you to ask him for help. You were desperate, but you were usually careful. These creatures only look out for themselves, and they despise anyone who serves even the smallest liability. Why did that Enderman bother helping you? He wouldn't have gained anything from it, and could've easily slaughtered you the second you asked. He must have done it to keep you alive longer. After all, what monster wouldn't pass up more opportunities to torture their prey? It wasn’t as if he could've done it out of good will. No doubt you might meet him again. God, you hoped not. Whatever the case was, you got lucky.

You felt your skin getting slightly warmer as you opened your eyes. The sun came up over the horizon, but the rain hadn't stopped. You were planning to stay in the dent until the weather cleared, but that obviously wasn't going to happen anytime soon. Might as well leave.

Before you could make a move however, you heard a fast-paced sloshing of footsteps coming your way. It barely gave you time to react.

You held your breath in anticipation when the figure came to a sudden halt in front of you.

“Oh, it's you.”

You let go of your breath and blinked disbelievingly at the small green figure. The little zombie from the mines? What was he even doing up here?

“Stop staring at me like that!” he yelled while stomping his foot. “Now move over, it's wet out here.” As temperamental as ever.

You narrowed your eyes. Yes, he was a child, but he was still one of them. He was the reason you were injured so badly and were forced to take refuge here. It was because of people like him that you had to leave that village, why you had to go to that village in the first place.

You looked up and down at his figure, and saw small cuts and patches of dirt littering his body. He was looking down at his shoes with an incomprehensible expression on his face. Well, he wasn’t attacking you on sight. Besides, you could take him if he did.

You shifted yourself to the far left to make room. The gold helmet came into view as he walked in. He plopped himself down as far away from you as possible, squishing himself into the corner with his knees against his chest. He then looked up at you, expecting you to say something.

You only blinked at him.

His eyes turned to your bandaged hand.
“Hmph. It doesn't look too bad.”

You scoffed.
“Sure, it looks better now. It looked worse right after your cousin smashed that pickaxe right through my hand!”

“Well you smashed that pickaxe into his head.”

“You attacked first.”

“I only bit your leg. He only hurt your hand. Head injuries are worse.”

“It was self-defence.”

He finally gave up.
“God, fine. If it makes you feel better. Guess humans are difficult to deal with in conversations too.”

“Alright, can you at least explain one thing to me? Everyone keeps saying ‘humans,’ like more than one. But so far, I haven’t seen any others.”

The little zombie's expression turned into something close to resembling fear and sadness.

“Maybe that’s a good thing.”

Your eyebrows furrowed at his answer. His demeanor completely changed from a few moments ago. Judging from his reaction, there must have been more. You already knew there had to be from seeing those mineshafts, but you guess you needed more confirmation. Maybe he knew one in person. If you could get him to tell you more…

“What were they like?”

His pupils shifted toward yours with a tint of distrust.
“I don't want to talk about it.”

Okay, you pushed too quickly. He was clearly erratic. You would have to ease into the conversation, although you were dying to know about the other humans. You would start off from another topic, perhaps quenching another question you had in mind.

“How did you get up here?” you asked.

He wrinkled his nose.
“The dirt path.”

“The dirt path… ”

“The dirt path you made when you were escaping from my cousin. You blocked the wall entering it, but you didn't block it off from the surface.”

Oh, that dirt path. You didn’t even think to block the way you came from as soon as you surfaced. You were too preoccupied and exhausted.

Wait, but why did he come up here?

“Why did you leave the mineshaft?” you questioned.

His head snapped towards you.
“That’s none of your business.”

You gave an exasperated laugh. You weren’t getting anywhere.
“Yeah, because you must have something to do that’s oh so important,” you bitterly continued.

He suddenly stood up and quickly walked towards you. From your position, he was slightly towering over you, his aura starting to grow more hostile.
“What's that supposed to mean?!” he shouted.

You unconsciously gripped your pickaxe at the sudden reaction. It didn't go by unnoticed. His eyes reddened.

“Y’know, you humans all think you're so high and mighty. You think you're so much better than us because you can make a couple of buildings. While you see yourself as above everything around you, you see us as things that only have killing in mind. We're not animals. Humans have always seen us like that, which is why they think it's okay to hunt us down. It's why they think it's fine to purge and hurt us, without even feeling sorry. So what, we’re just supposed to sit here and let you walk over all of us like dirt?!”

Your eyes widened at his words. His emotions were deeply rooted and were pouring out. You wondered what possible destruction the other humans could’ve made. Was that how every monster felt? You always believed that they attacked you out of instinct, not because they had a motive. This was new indeed.

Your attention went back to the little zombie. You tried to say something, but he shook his head and stepped back.

“Nevermind, just… nevermind,” he said.

He turned around and ran off into the distance.

Not sure what else to do, you wearily pushed yourself up while holding your pickaxe. You slightly closed your eyes as you stepped outside. It was still raining, but only slightly. You headed towards a random direction, not having a destination in mind. All you could think about was the exchange that just took place.

You suddenly halted when you heard high-pitched shrieks coming from the sky.

Chapter Text

You gasped in surprise, startled by the shrilling sounds. You felt every hair on your body stand up, your heart racing. Despite wanting to run, your feet stayed planted in the ground, compelling you to look towards the sky. What you saw scared you even more.

There were three blue winged creatures swirling in the sky, green eyes glowing and mouths opening wide, revealing fangs. More shrieks escaped their mouths. Phantoms?!

You sprinted away when one took a dive towards you, nearly tripping on your feet. They continued to pursue you.

You didn't want to believe it, but they were real. You thought the little zombie was just messing with your head in the mineshaft, and you wished he was. What did he say? That they appeared when a human doesn't sleep for a while? You've never gone more than two days without sleeping before, but who knows how long it has been. The last time you properly slept was back at the village. Another luxury that you lost.

You stopped for a minute to take a swing at one of the phantoms with your pickaxe. It flew back into the sky after being hit, but it didn't go away. It’s eyes glinted at you with anger. Two more decided to dive towards you. You successfully waded off one, but you weren't so lucky with the other.

It tore its fangs into the flesh of your left shoulder, causing you to cry out in pain and drop your pickaxe. You kept punching the scaly creature with your right fist and attempting to pull it off. It immediately took off again.

Clenching your shoulder, you reached down and picked up your tool before trying to escape again. You ran off into a denser set of trees, hoping that they wouldn't find you as easily. You crouched down behind a tree and peeked out. It appears that you lost them. Thank goodness.

After calming yourself, you decided to examine your shoulder. You slowly pushed down your sleeve, praying that it wasn't too bad. There was only a small bite mark; it would probably heal pretty quickly. You signed in relief as you leaned back.

However, that relief was short-lived, as you tensed up again at hearing what sounded like the clanking of bones. Before you could fully process it, an arrow whipped past your head and landed in the tree bark next to you. Your head swiftly turned towards the source.

A few yards away, a skeletal figure was crouching down on one knee, aiming a bow at you. They took a look at you and visibly scowled, learning that the arrow didn't penetrate you. They narrowed their eyes as they drew their bow again.

Not wasting a second, you scattered to your feet and made a break for it. You could hear fast footsteps following close behind, with the sound of another arrow being shot. Thankfully, they once again missed.

You continued running, constantly changing your direction to avoid being hit. But it started getting harder to lose them. You wished they would give up already. How long were you going to have to keep running every time something came after you?

You felt that this would be a good time to dig down and make a little hole again. But before you could start, you felt something pierce into your back near your waist. You cried out as you immediately fell to the ground, knocking the breath out of you. The pain was excruciating, but you couldn't give up yet. You’ve been through worse. You kept crawling away as a desperate attempt to escape, dragging the pickaxe with one hand.

You started moving away dirt as fast as you could when you hit stone. You brought your pickaxe down onto it to make the hole deep enough for you to fit in. To your horror, the pickaxe shattered into a million pieces. Was it that broken?! You thought for sure that it would last a little bit longer. Now you wouldn’t be able to escape in time, and you were left defenseless.

Another arrow flew over your body and into some nearby bushes ahead of you. A small scream erupted from them, making your eyes widen. You wondered who got shot.

After a few seconds, a small zombie emerged, which you believed to be the same one you talked to earlier. Funny, you didn’t think you would ever see him again. You could make out an arrow sticking out of his shoulder, but he didn’t seem too bothered about it. He suddenly ran out at full speed towards your direction. Your hands covered your head as you dug your face into the ground. This was going to be very unpleasant.

However, to your surprise, the flurry of footsteps ran right past you, perking you to look up and turn your head. The zombie seemed to be constantly banging his fists at the skeleton's leg while shouting nonstop. The skeleton, their face visibly showing concern, immediately dropped their bow. They moved hands forward and placed them on the zombie's shoulders as an attempt to calm him down and stop the small attacks. The scene could be seen as comical in a different situation, but you were still technically in danger. But now was your chance to move.

You figured you still wouldn’t have time to bury yourself. Since the two monsters were distracted, you could probably just slip away. Trying to avoid drawing attention, you wiped some dirt off of your face and pushed yourself up to your knees, squinting as pain shot up your body. You somehow successfully managed to steady yourself. Quietly, you forced yourself to crawl forward, dragging your legs behind. You continued that pattern to get a safe distance away.

The chattering between the skeleton and the zombie got quieter as you started getting further away, but you could still make out their conversation.

“What the heck was that?! How do you manage to miss that badly? That actually hurt- ow!” you heard the zombie complain.

“Rufus, hold still, I need to tug the arrow out. If you stayed in plain sight this wouldn't have happened,” the other voice, probably the skeleton's, replied. “And stop complaining, you’re fine.”

Neither of them seemed to even remember your existence anymore, entirely focused on their ordeal. You were a little tempted to listen to the rest of the exchange, but you weren’t in the best shape. You still had your own arrow to tug out. With that, you continued to pathetically crawl forward as the sun finally came out.

You wanted to scream. The arrow was deeply lodged into your waist, and pulling it out seemed like a nearly impossible task. Giving up was really appealing, but you couldn't move around like this. You continued to breathe in and out to regain your focus.

After a few attempts, you successfully pulled the arrow out. Immediately, you put pressure on the wound, hoping to stop the blood flow. You sharply inhaled as your hands immediately stained with the red liquid. Frantically, you wiped it on your shirt and pushed down on the wound again. Knowing simple first aid would’ve been nice, you didn’t want to bleed to death.

This whole thing wasn't working. Moving around in the open has proved nothing but a disaster. Idling in one place obviously didn’t help either. Now that you thought about it, there wasn’t really a safe option, only a preference. Constantly moving around meant you always had to stay on your toes because you would be vulnerable. Staying in one place made it easier for more creatures to find you, whether that be in a village, in the grasslandsーheck, even the oceans were dangerous. You had to give or take in any scenario, you just haven’t decided which one was for you. Hmm, maybe a sky base? Although, you would risk falling to death, and it would be a hassle to enter and exit.

Shaking away your thoughts, you observed your surroundings. Nothing but trees for miles.

“Everytime I see you, you look like you’re about to pass out.”

You violently flinched and turned your head towards the source, only to see the little zombie (er… Rufus?) again. Again?! Oh for the love of—

“You didn’t sleep,” he continued.

“That obvious?” you mumbled.

“Yeah, the phantoms. Oh, by the way, thanks a lot for that,” he snarled. “I barely had time to hide out in those bushes.”

“I’ll sleep when I’m not running for my life, Rufus.”

Saying his name must have caught him off guard, as he backed up a little.

“How do you know my—oh, you probably heard Syckle mention it,” he concluded.

Both of you stayed silent for a few minutes, until he spoke up again.

“Um, actually I have something for your bleeding.”

He proceeded to pull out a bottle filled with pink liquid from his pocket and hold it out to you.

“You can drink it or pour it on directly.”

You couldn't have been more confused. First of all, what even was that liquid? More importantly, why was he trying to help you? You said nothing, your eyes darting from him to the drink.

Rufus apparently grew impatient, as he stepped forward.

“Here just look!”

He poured some of the liquid onto your hand, the one that was stabbed through. You immediately retracted your hand in response, expecting the worst. However, you felt no pain at all. Instead, you were surprised with a comforting feeling. Your hand felt all better. How—?

“...you don't know a lot, do you?” the child said.

Based on the past few days, definitely not.

“Why are you letting me have this?” you asked.

He huffed and looked to the side as he shuffled his feet.

“I need to ask you a few things.”

Chapter Text

“I need to ask you a few things.”

You felt confusion overtake your features. It wasn’t a sentence you were really expecting, not after your last exchange; after his breakdown back during the rainstorm, it seemed that Rufus had already made up his mind and wanted nothing else to do with you. He dumped how careless and violent he thought humans were, expressing so much anger and hurt. You had no time to react before he took off. You didn’t even have time to think about it after the phantoms appeared.

Now that you were thinking about it while gazing at his small form, you felt a twinge of pity. He might be a zombie, but he was still a child. Whatever the humans of the past did must have scarred him, leaving him with pure resentment. And yet, here he was, now curious about you, a human. You wondered what caused this shift in mind.

He asked his first question. “Do you have skills?”

You raised your eyebrow and tilted your head with uncertainty. “What do you mean? Skills for what?”

“You know,” Rufus gestured with his hand, “for everything. Like, building, surviving, the basic stuff humans do.”

“Yes, I know how to do that stuff,” you replied with some confusion. You would have thought that to be obvious.

His face contorted, and he let out a snort as if he didn’t believe you. “Then why are you always crawling around in the dirt?”

You let out a heavy sigh and rested your head on your palm, trying to keep yourself from feeling too humiliated while heat crept over your face. You did have the skills to make your own place, but you just never felt completely safe anywhere to build one. On top of that, you haven't had the time to gather materials without being chased off. But of course, Rufus wouldn’t know that, since he only saw you when you were struggling.

Not giving any details, you answered “Just a few rough days, I got shaken up. I’ll be fine later.”

As the sentence finished coming out of your mouth, it dawned on you that physically, you felt almost completely back to normal. This realization made you double-check your injuries, only to see that they had nearly vanished in the span of a few minutes. The agonizing hole that was present on your hand had now completely disappeared, as if it was never there at all. It should be impossible, yet these changes piqued your interest.

You pointed at the bottle the young zombie was holding. “Hey, what is that anyway?”

He looked down and shook the contents of the bottle.

“It's just a regular health potion, haven't you seen it before?”

Ah, a potion would make sense. You've experimented with them a few times in the village, but many of them were just for added benefits, such as running faster or breathing underwater. In other words, you never found a use for them. They wouldn’t help you with basic survival. On the other hand, a health potion was something new entirely. They never appeared in the village recipe books, but it seemed something too useful to miss. Why haven’t you seen it before?

Rufus seemed to be getting agitated again at your silence, his semi-rotting nails scratching at his wrist while he waited for your answer. You held down your chuckling when you saw he was puffing his cheeks again. You really shouldn’t find him humorous, he’s nearly gotten you killed, and he was obviously hostile. But you couldn’t help it, especially when his face reminded you of those of baby animals.

You forced your thoughts to get back on topic. “Nope, not that kind. What’s it made of?”

Maybe you could make them yourself? They could be quite useful in the long run.

Rufus crossed his arms with an annoyed sigh.

“I don’t know. I just borrowed them.”

Your spirits dropped. Oh, for the love of…

“Anyway,” he continued. “Second question. Are…”

He quickly shifted his eyes and picked more at his wrists, hesitantly spitting his words out.

“Are you sure you don’t know other humans?”

You shut your eyes, letting his question settle in. You wished you did know others. The ache you had to not be alone, to be able to connect with someone else that would understand. For the longest time, you thought you would be fine by yourself, that you could find company in other people like the villagers. But you always knew that it just wasn’t the same. You wanted a sense of normalcy, to once not feel like an outsider. It would also be nice to be able to let down your guard without paying the price of death.

A sigh escaped your lips. “Yes, Rufus, I haven’t seen any.”

However, while your statement brought you sadness, it had the opposite effect on Rufus. He relaxed and shoved the bottle into his pocket. He then beamed while he hurriedly blurted his next question.

“Can I come with you?”

Huh?!

You sputtered and looked at him with wide eyes. “Excuse me?!”

“I said what I said!” he asserted.

A thoughtful expression then quickly washed over him as he contemplated his statement. “Actually, I don’t even need to ask you, I’ll just follow you anyway.” He grinned and placed his hands on his hips in mock victory.

You started feeling slightly dizzy processing his words. A day ago, he said he didn’t want to see you again, and now he wants to join you? What was this kid’s thought process?! Now, there were many reasons why letting him tag along would be a horrible idea—like him killing you—but most importantly:

“Why?!”

His smile dropped at your outburst, once again turning into a small pout. Stuffing his fists in his jeans and swaying side to side, he glanced away and mumbled,

“I just wanna.”

“Rufus, you and I both know well that that can’t be your real reason. There’s no way you would want to willingly be around me after your rant that day. Also, I don’t even have any plans of where to go.”

He ignored the first part of your statement and replied, “Just do something that humans do, like,” he glanced next to you and pointed. “Break that tree or something.”

“Rufus, I haven’t agreed to anything!”

“Fine, then make another hole in the ground.”

“No.”

“Build a table?”

This child…

“Rufus, stop demanding me to do basic things, I’m not a dog.”

He rolled his eyes. “You shouldn’t flatter yourself, dogs are actually cool,” he smiled a bit, looking like he was thinking of something specific. He immediately smothered it and said, “Besides, you guys treat the rest of us like dogs. Hey, I just remembered, don’t you guys sometimes try to put name tags on us too?”

You didn’t bother trying to refute his ridiculous assumption and only threw your hands. “Rufus, I don’t know anything about what humans used to do.”

You harshly whispered. “I don’t know what you want from me.”

His red orbs glared into yours. “Just do what you usually do. I won’t get in your way, I just want to watch.”

Biting your lip to avoid saying anything, you decided to mull it over. It was evident that he would follow you no matter what you said. Knowing how short-tempered he was, denying him would only aggravate him more, and you’ve seen how that always turned out. The incident at the mines still made you shudder, and you clutched your hand at the memory. Speaking of…

“Don’t you need to go back to your cousin?” you asked, pointing back with your thumb. “Wouldn’t he be looking for us?”

Rufus shrugged. “I always leave for days at a time, so it’ll be nothing new. Also, I don’t care.”

Well alright then.