Thursday, June 23, 2011

DAY THREE : In which Matheson discovers he does not have as many lives as a cat, and uses most of them.

Matheson’s eyes blinked open slowly. Harsh sunlight filled his vision. His mouth was full of sand...and iron? He spit, and the sand was stained red. Blood.

He sat up and stretched. His body was sore, but otherwise alright.

He was on the beach? That’s odd, he thought. He looked to the left and sure enough was the place he had first woken up here, with its cross-shaped mark in the ground.

All at once his memory fully returned- he’d fallen to his death!

He leapt to his feet.

Had he crawled here? Had he been carried? He had no idea. He didn’t see any tell-tale footprints in the sand. It was as if he had just whisked here, by some unseen force.

He had no possessions, his pockets were empty.

“What the devil,” he murmured, as he ran his hands along his body doing damage control, and straightened up, then froze.

Not twenty feet away was a skeleton, wading out into the surf, slowly. It hadn’t noticed him, by some miracle, and he watched it for several seconds as it jumped into the water, and then started backing away slowly.

So focused was he on the skeleton that he didn’t notice the creeper that hurled itself at him from the hill to his left, exploding in mid air.

He yelled as the blast threw him back and shook up his sense.

He struggled once more to his feet. The skeleton hadn’t moved, but its head slowly turned to the source of the noise, and it flashed a sinister grin as it spied him. Matheson turned tail and fled blindly, running for several minutes before realizing he was going the complete wrong way.


He struggled up the hill, moving from tree to tree and cover to cover, until he started to recognize the terrain and knew his house was just above.

As it came into view, he drew a sharp breath. ANOTHER CREEPER!

 It was looking at him like it had been waiting for him, and they both stood motionless for a second, and then raced together. Matheson barely made it inside and shut the door before the creeper reached him. It hissed savagely, but once he regained his breathe and composure, Matheson flashed it a rather rude gesture and then looked over his house.

Everything was the same; no one had broken in during the night. That was some solace. Though the creature could probably blow the entire structure to pieces, it didn’t for some reason. Sure, you’re terrifying, Matheson thought, but you’re not very smart.

But he could tell from the suns position that it was already midday. He was still hungry, for one, and he had things he needed to get done. He couldn’t stay bottled up here forever, and who knew how long it would take this thing to leave.

He opened his storage box, relieved to find everything just as he had left it, and made himself another sword.
I’ve killed plenty of you, he thought, glaring at the creeper with one hand on the door handle. Well actually, like two, his brain told him. He told his brain to shut up.

He threw open the door and hit the creeper twice, in quick succession. It fell back, almost falling over the cliff, and then came at him again, its skin pulsing with energy. He swung at it again, too soon realizing his mistake, and it exploded.

He only had time to feel a surge of heat across his body and his face, searing his flesh, and then everything went black.

For those of you keeping score, that's my last re-spawn (one life left), and  the game has hardly even begun...
To the next post!

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