Attack of the Shadow-Crafters

by Mark Cheverton

  Opposite the lava fall was another “tooth” which boasted a waterfall. The flowing liquid spilled down the steep side, then struck a stone block and divided into two separate rivers. One of them streamed down the mountain until it crashed into the lava, forming a wide slab of sparkling purple blocks. The obsidian reflected the light from the lava in all directions.

  At the center of Dragon’s Teeth was a wide hole that was roughly shaped like the yawning mouth of some kind of massive primordial beast. Blocks of stone jutted out from the edge, making it look as if it were lined with deadly teeth. Down the throat of the monstrous opening was a tunnel that plunged down into the ground. The passage was dark and steep and ended abruptly after bending into a horizontal cave. Soon, Herobrine would remake that chamber into something much bigger, but not now.

  Glancing back at the newly arrived Endermen, Herobrine watched as they stepped into the flowing water and bathed. Apparently, the Maker had accidently given the creatures the smallest piece of his own vanity. Herobrine always wanted to look immaculate and clean so that his visage could frighten his victims. This desire to stay clean had been accidently transferred to the Endermen. Now, to replenish their HP, the dark monsters had to stand in a pool of water and bathe themselves. It was their greatest joy, to become clean, and it fed their HP; it was a double bonus for them, though it frustrated Herobrine a bit.

  Just then, a zombie approached, staggering around the boiling pool of molten stone.

  “Maker … Maker!” the creature yelled.

  Herobrine turned toward the creature, then teleported to the struggling monster.

  “What are you moaning about?” Herobrine asked.

  “The enemy … the blacksmith … has been seen,” the zombie stammered, his HP slowly failing.

  “You saw him?”

  The zombie nodded its scarred head. “The squad of zombies came across the blacksmith in the birch forest,” he reported.

  “Did you kill him?” Herobrine asked. “I hope you made him suffer first.”

  The zombie glanced down at the ground, clearly ashamed.

  “The blacksmith and three NPCs destroyed a dozen zombies,” the squad leader said. “Only this zombie escaped.”

  “There were twelve of you and only four of them,” Herobrine said, “and you LOST?!”

  His eyes glowed bright as rage boiled over within his soul. Drawing his sword, he slashed at the monster, destroying it with a single hit. He gazed around and saw that many of the monsters had seen him destroy the zombie. Good!

  “I need stronger monsters,” Herobrine said aloud to himself. “These creatures that Minecraft has given me are pathetic and useless.”

  He clasped his hands behind his back and paced back and forth, considering what to do. Suddenly, Erebus materialized two blocks away. Herobrine noticed the king of the Endermen was wise and always stayed out of arm’s reach when the Maker was angry (which was frequent these days).

  “I need stronger monsters,” Herobrine growled again.

  “Perhaps you can remake them as you did when you created the Endermen,” Erebus said.

  “I can’t waste my time trying to improve the zombies, because then I’ll need to do it with the skeletons and the spiders and the creepers. Too much work for someone as important as me.”

  “Perhaps you need to create some crafters to do the task for you,” the king of the Endermen suggested.

  “What did you say?” Herobrine asked.

  Erebus cast a nervous gaze toward his Maker, then took a step back.

  “Of course,” Herobrine mused, his mind racing. “I need to create my own shadow-crafters.”

  Closing his eyes, he gathered his viral artificial intelligence powers. Slowly, his hands began to glow a sickly pale yellow as the power grew; Herobrine loved it. Gradually, the glow oozed up his arms until it reached his shoulders. With his hands balled into fists, he knelt and plunged them into the stone floor of Dragon’s Teeth. The ground seemed to shake with fear as he drove his arms deeper and deeper into the rocky blocks.

  With his arms elbow-deep into the ground, he drove his awareness into the mechanism of Minecraft. Slowly he drew together strands of code, merging them together with the essence of various monsters, combining the two in an effort to create something new. He closed his eyes and concentrated, using every bit of code-altering skill the virus possessed, until he’d finished the first of them. Herobrine could sense one of his new creations coming into existence before him, but he did not bother to open his eyes and look; he still had many more to make.

  He created more and more of the creatures, giving each just the smallest bit of his code-altering capabilities, but still reserving the vast storehouse of power for himself so that none of these creatures could ever consider taking over. Merging each creation with a different monster or aspect of Minecraft, Herobrine created his new army.

  When he was finished, he withdrew his arms from the surface of Minecraft and opened his eyes. Before him stood a vast array of creatures, each similar to an NPC, but each also drastically different. The nearest had putrid-looking green skin, its arms and face covered in scars. The creature was completely bald and wore a light blue tattered shirt, its dark blue pants torn in many places. Instantly, Herobrine knew who it was.

  “Ahh … Zombiebrine,” Herobrine said as he gestured to the creature. “You have much to do.”

  He then addressed many of the others.

  “Creeperbrine, Skeletonbrine, Spiderbrine … you all have much to do,” Herobrine said, an eerie, malicious smile on his square face. Around him stood many of the new creatures, each different in appearance and purpose. “You are my shadow-crafters, my special creations that will make the monster army stronger, more powerful, and more vicious. With your help, we will craft a fighting force that will sweep across the land and destroy every villager. With your help, everything that is bad for the NPCs will become worse. Lava will be hotter, caves darker, and arrows sharper. We will enter a new era of monsters, with the Overworld soon cleansed of that infestation known as villagers.”

  The shadow-crafters each growled and clapped and bubbled and clattered as befitting their specialty. It made Herobrine smile.

  “All of you, get to work, right away,” Herobrine instructed. “There is a cave underground where you can work … now go!”

  The army of shadow-crafters turned and headed toward the gaping hole that sat at the center of Dragon’s Teeth.

  “Erebus, where are you?” Herobrine yelled.

  The king of the Endermen materialized directly in front of his Maker.

  “I am here,” Erebus said.

  “I have a task for you,” Herobrine said with a devious smile.

  “Are we to attack the blacksmith and his forces?” the Endermen king asked.

  “We aren’t ready yet, but soon. For now, let the NPCs contemplate their doom. The fear that is gathering within each one of them will do more to unravel their courage than your fists could.” Herobrine’s eyes then glowed bright with evil thought. “Find the blacksmith and his followers, then report their position to me. After that, send one of your Endermen every so often close to them, for the sole purpose of screeching awfully into the night. Remind them that you are there, but do not attack and make sure you are not seen. An enemy that is not visible will seem more terrifying in their imaginations. Ha ha ha ha …”

  Erebus’s eyes glowed white with glee at the thought of the villagers cowering in the darkness. What idiots! he thought.

  “When we can feel their fear growing, then we will attack,” Herobrine explained. “Be sure not to harm the blacksmith. I want him alive so that he can watch the suffering of his friends.”

  Erebus smiled a vile, malicious smile, his red eyes glowing like two brilliant lasers.

  “Oh, and give the blacksmith a message,” Herobrine said, whispering into the dark creature’s ear.

  Erebus cackled a spine-cringing laugh, then disappeared in a cloud of purple mist, his laugh echoing off
Dragon’s Teeth, making Minecraft itself shudder in fear.

  CHAPTER 8

  UNSEEN ENEMIES

  The desert village appeared in the distance, just as the square, yellow face of the sun was emerging from behind the eastern horizon. Splashes of red and orange stained the dark overhead canopy, erasing the stars faintly peeking through the night sky.

  “Something looks different,” Carver said as he stared toward the desert community.

  “What do you mean?” Fencer asked.

  “I don’t know,” the stocky NPC replied. “I can’t put my finger on it.”

  “You think the village was attacked?” Weaver asked.

  Carver didn’t answer; he just looked straight ahead at his home as they made their way over the sand dune before them. Gameknight could feel the tension in the NPC and knew he was scared something might have happened to his friends and family.

  Reaching into his inventory, Carver pulled out his axe and began to pass it nervously from hand to hand. The razor-sharp tool seemed to ease his fears a little.

  They crested the sand dune and ran down the other side. In the brightening light, the village was easier to see. A huge new cobblestone wall stood before them. Though it was not complete yet, it was beautiful to see. Workers moved all across the fortification like an army of tiny ants, walking along the top and placing blocks while, at the same time, watching the landscape for threats.

  “Walls … nice,” Gameknight said with a grin. “That’ll make it harder for Herobrine to attack. But it won’t stop him. We still have much to do.”

  A strange sound, like the combination of a cat’s yowl and a baby’s cry, trickled down from above. Instantly, Gameknight drew his bow and ducked, searching for some place to hide.

  “Everyone get to cover!” Gameknight shouted.

  Carver, Fencer, and Weaver just stopped and stared at the user in the blacksmith’s garb.

  “What are you doing?” Fencer asked.

  “Ghasts,” Gameknight snapped. “I heard ghasts.”

  “What are ‘ghasts’?” Weaver asked, confused.

  Casting a glance skyward, Gameknight saw large white cubes floating amongst the clouds. Nine long tentacles hung below each creature, dragging through the clouds like fingers through a pool of calm water. Huge, baby-like faces adorned each cube, their big eyes gazing down at the trio.

  “Those are ghasts,” Gameknight said, pointing with his bow. “At least, they look a lot like ghasts …”

  “Those things? They’re harmless,” Fencer said. “Everyone knows that, including you, Smithy,” he added, giving him a quick, frustrated look.

  “Umm … yeah, of course,” Gameknight replied. “It’s just that I heard some of them attacked a village far away, shooting fireballs at them.”

  “Fireballs?” Weaver said incredulously, looking up at the sky. “Those things?”

  “Why would they attack a village?” Carver asked. “They’re part of the clouds. They just fly around up there, just pure white decorations in the sky.”

  As one moved a little lower, Gameknight could see that the huge boxy creatures were completely devoid of markings on their skin. No dark scars marked their face or bodies, and there were no tear-like markings under their eyes, like the ghasts he was familiar with. They were as pure as the boxy clouds in which they played.

  Maybe ghasts aren’t dangerous in this time? Gameknight thought. I wonder what changes to make them so dangerous in the future.

  “You’re right. I don’t know what I was thinking,” Gameknight said as he put away his bow. He cast an apologetic glance to Fencer, then stared up at the creatures in the sky nervously.

  This is weird, he thought, then turned away and continued heading for the desert village.

  “PEOPLE APPROACHING FROM THE EAST!” a voice shouted from the top of the fortified wall.

  Instantly, the battlements filled with archers and swordsmen, and the east wall bristled with soldiers. Gameknight felt a sense of pride at their fast response. The desert community was obviously taking security very seriously.

  When they recognized the party, the village gates were opened, and the four comrades walked in, the wooden doors closing immediately after they’d entered. Glancing around, Gameknight could see the village had been expanded. The area for crops had been significantly enlarged, with the available dirt already placed, tilled, and planted. Pulling the dirt and seeds he’d collected in the forest out of his inventory, he gave them to one of the farmers. The chicken and beef that had been collected was distributed among the hungriest, and the rest was cooked and stored in the village’s storeroom.

  At the center of the village, a tall watchtower rose high into the air. Workers were placing cobblestone blocks at the top, building it up skyward, while others completed the floors inside. One of the NPCs finished a wall, then moved to the north edge of the tower and jumped off. Gameknight gasped as he fell, but the worker knew what he was doing. He landed with a splash in a shallow pool of water; it was an easy and efficient way to get down.

  Farmer approached the party.

  “You found food and seed,” the old village leader said.

  “Yes,” Gameknight replied. “Carver knew right where to take us.”

  “Hmm … I guess he did well,” Farmer added. “Maybe he should be a hunter.”

  “I’m a carver, and you know it,” Carver snapped, then spun around and stormed off.

  “What was that about?” Fencer asked as he moved closer.

  “Well, you see, Carver has had a difficult time finding his place in the village,” Farmer said. “But that’s not important right now. What do you think of the improvements to the village?”

  “They are fantastic,” Gameknight said. “The wall is excellent, and the watchtower is coming along nicely. Are you building the crafting chamber?”

  “Where do you think all the cobblestone came from?” Farmer asked.

  Gameknight nodded his head and smiled.

  “Smithy, tell him what we learned,” Fencer said.

  The smile on Gameknight’s square face faded to a scowl.

  “What?” Farmer asked.

  “We know Herobrine is gathering another monster army,” Gameknight said.

  “Where did you hear that?” Farmer asked.

  “We captured a zombie and made him talk,” Weaver added excitedly.

  Gameknight reached out and tussled the boy’s hair. “Weaver is right. We were able to get some information out of a zombie,” the User-that-is-not-a-user explained. “Herobrine is gathering at something called Dragon’s Teeth. Does that mean anything to you?”

  “Yes,” Farmer replied. “It is on the other side of the Great Chasm. It can be reached by going across Midnight Bridge from the south, or by going up and around the end of the Great Chasm from the north. It’s in an extreme hills biome.”

  “That will mean a lot of tunnels and caverns,” Gameknight said. “He’ll likely have the king of the creepers and the spider queen with him. We can expect a lot of those creatures soon, but I’m sure that evil virus has more in store for us.” He turned and faced Farmer. “We’re going to need a lot more villagers, I fear, very soon.”

  Suddenly, a strange screeching sound floated out of the desert. It was barely audible over the activity of the busy village. Tiny square goose bumps formed on the back of Gameknight’s arms.

  “Did you hear that?” the User-that-is-not-a-user asked.

  “What are you talking about?” Fencer asked.

  Another quiet, high-pitched screech reached Gameknight’s ears. This time, he could tell it was coming from the west.

  “There it is again,” he said. “It’s coming from the west.”

  Drawing his sword, he ran to the stairs that led to the top of the fortified wall. Weaving around NPCs, he sprinted across the battlements until he was on the western wall. He stared out into the desert.

  “Game … uhhh … I mean, Smithy, what are you doing?” Fencer asked as he caught up with him.r />
  “I heard something,” Gameknight said. “It was a noise I haven’t heard for a long time, and I can’t quite recognize it.”

  The screech was heard again, but this time it came from the south. It made the hairs on the back of Gameknight’s neck stand up straight as a shiver went down his spine.

  “You must have heard it that time,” the User-that-is-not-a-user said.

  Fencer nodded his head. “I’ve never heard anything like that before.”

  “I have … I just can’t remember from where.”

  Gameknight glanced down and could see other villagers facing south, curious about the noise.

  Just then, piercing screeches came out of the desert from the north and south, both at the same time. They were much louder this time, as if the source was either closer, or there were a lot of them. Whichever it was, Gameknight didn’t like it.

  “Everyone, get to your positions!” he shouted.

  Someone started to bang a sword against an empty bucket, making a loud CLANKING sound. This caused everyone in the village to stop what they were doing and take their battle stations. Archers ran to the towers and walls while swordsmen stood near the village gates, ready to run out and attack.

  The screeches sounded again, this time, from all sides. Some of the villagers were beginning to look afraid, the high-pitched wails chiseling away at their courage.

  “I have to see what it is,” Gameknight said.

  He jumped from the wall and landed in a small pool of water that fed one of the wheat fields. Stepping out, he ran for the watchtower. Running through the entrance, he raced up the ladder that led to the higher levels. When he reached the top, he found Weaver already there, his young eyes gazing out into the seemingly empty desert.

  “You see anything?” Gameknight asked.

  “No,” the young NPC replied.

  The screeching sounded again, but this time it was from all sides. And in that instant, Gameknight remembered where he’d heard that sound before.