The Great Zombie Invasion

by Mark Cheverton

  “Maybe now isn’t the time,” Weaver said. “My father once told me, ‘It is important to pick your battles, but it is also important to pick the right time for your battles, for attacking when you should be retreating can cause a disaster.’ I really don’t remember when he told me that; my memory is sorta foggy. But I think it’s true.”

  “I think you’re right, Weaver. When the time is right, I’ll talk to Smithy. For now, I’ll just let the villagers celebrate while I keep watch for monsters.”

  And with that, Gameknight moved away from the cheerful villagers and stood on the fortified wall, watching.

  CHAPTER 11

  THE CRAFTING OF OXUS

  Herobrine stood at the center of the basin waiting for the remnants of his monster army to return from the catastrophic battle. He could hear the zombies shuffling across the leaf-covered forest floor, and the clattering of skeleton bones added to the din. The shadow-crafter had watched from a distance, not wanting to get directly involved. After all, that’s what his army was for. It didn’t seem necessary for Herobrine to actually risk himself in these conflicts, not while he had all these disposable monsters.

  But their performance in that last battle had been truly pathetic. He certainly hadn’t expected the wall around the village; that blacksmith was cleverer than Herobrine had given him credit for. And the skeleton attack had fallen apart just because some of the villagers had fired back at them. The skeletons, at least the ones that survived, were cowards!

  Also, the creepers could have blown open that wall, but they lacked any kind of direction or commitment. With the NPCs fortifying their villages, the creepers would become much more important in the future. He would have to deal with that problem right away.

  As the monsters drew closer, Herobrine closed his eyes. He could still picture that aggravating blacksmith standing atop the cobblestone wall. He was sure he had seen the NPC smiling at him, mocking him, even though it was dark and Herobrine had been far away. His eyes began to grow brighter as he thought about the blacksmith and that other villager with the small nose. There was something about that pair that Herobrine hated. Maybe it was the smug looks on their faces when they’d done that back-to-back thing in the forest, or maybe it was their mocking looks at the end of his army’s failed attack, or maybe he just hated their very existence. He wasn’t sure, but their destruction was a necessity.

  My army had easily outnumbered the villagers and yet the monsters still lost the battle, Herobrine thought. The fools … what were they thinking!

  The monsters crested the hill that overlooked the clearing. Zombies, skeletons, and creepers began to emerge from the darkness and move into the basin. They all saw the angry glow in Herobrine’s eyes and were afraid. The zombie king walked boldly at the front of the army. His gold armor reflected the light from Herobrine’s eyes, making him appear to shine with a harsh aura.

  At the speed of thought, Herobrine teleported to the rocky outcropping that extended out over the basin.

  “You were all pathetic!” he screamed as the monsters approached. “We outnumbered the villagers, yet they won the battle. How is this possible?”

  “Their archers took away our advantage,” one of the surviving skeletons said. “They knew to shoot at the skeletons first so we couldn’t fire on them from far away. It wasn’t the skeleton’s fault. The spiders and zombies should have stopped their bows.”

  The few remaining skeletons grumbled in agreement, their bones clattering together as they shifted from one foot to the other.

  Herobrine hated excuses.

  Glancing at Vo-Lok, he nodded to the zombie king then glared at the complaining skeleton. The hulking monster moved up behind the boney creature.

  “If the zombies weren’t so slow, they could have protected the skeletons, but instead they just let us be attacked. It was their fault.”

  The other skeletons nodded their pale heads as some of the zombies growled in disagreement. Herobrine nodded to Vo-Lok. The zombie drew his huge golden sword. The metal blade scraped against the scabbard, making a raspy zing that all the monsters instantly recognized. Before the whining skeleton could turn and see its fate, the zombie king brought the blade down on the creature, rending its HP from its body. The pale monster flashed red as the zombie smashed it with his sword. In seconds, the skeleton was gone.

  With a smile, the zombie king slid the sword back into its scabbard, then turned and faced Herobrine.

  “The malcontent has been silenced, Maker,” the zombie king said. “If others complain, Vo-Lok will deal with them.”

  The monsters glanced at the zombie king, a new look of respect—and fear—in their eyes, all except the creepers. They milled about at the edge of the group, mostly confused and completely disorganized.

  “Creepers, you were worthless in that last battle, but the fault is mine,” Herobrine said.

  Some of the mottled green creatures peered up at him, but many just stared at the ground, or the trees, or the sparkling stars in the sky; the dimwitted creatures were oblivious to what was about to happen.

  Using his teleportation powers, Herobrine disappeared from the rocky outcropping and appeared near the group of creepers. Drawing his own iron sword, he slashed at three of the creatures, tearing their HP from them until they were on the brink of death. The green mottled creatures fell to the ground on top of each other, their tiny pig-like feet twitching about in the air. With their HP so low, they lacked the strength to stand or resist. Herobrine sheathed his blade, then reached out with his hands. He closed his eyes and concentrated on his artificial intelligence, reaching for the viral abilities that would allow him to manipulate the lines of code for these creepers.

  Slowly, his hands began to glow a sickly pale yellow, then insipid light began to slowly ooze up his arms. Pulling the bodies of the creepers together, he plunged his hands into the monsters and began to reshape them, as if he were molding something out of green clay. Gradually, the creeper bodies merged into one, the new creation bigger and stronger than the individuals. Driving his crafting powers even stronger, he poured all of his evil thoughts and feelings into the creature until the new body glowed a deep red, like the color of blood. Tiny bolts of crimson lightning began to dance around the new creature’s skin, casting a ruby-red light on the surroundings.

  Satisfied with his work, Herobrine stood, then dragged the new creeper to a rocky wall. He could feel the creature’s need, and it lay just beneath the layer of stone. Balling his hand into a fist, Herobrine shattered multiple stones until he exposed a block of coal ore. Instantly, the other creepers began to hiss with excitement. Drawing his sword again, the Maker scraped some coal dust into one hand, and then poured it onto the new creeper’s mouth. The monster stirred as the coal rejuvenated the creature’s health.

  “Stand and feed,” Herobrine commanded.

  He glanced at Vo-Lok, then pointed at the creeper king.

  “Pick him up,” Herobrine commanded.

  The zombie king nodded his scarred head, then reached down and lifted the creature. He carried it to the wall and pressed the monster’s face against the black and gray stone. Out of instinct, the creeper began to gnaw at the stone with his dark stubby teeth, scrubbing more of the coal dust into its mouth. With every scrape, the glowing-red creeper grew stronger and stronger until it could stand on its own.

  Rain began to fall as the monster continued to feed, its HP getting higher and higher.

  “That’s enough,” Herobrine commanded. “Everyone step back from the new creeper king.”

  Vo-Lok moved away, then shoved some of the creepers back that were trying to get to the coal. Herobrine raised his hands into the air, his eyes glowing bright white. He then clapped them together. At the same instant, a bolt of lighting streaked down from the sky and hit the new creeper, causing white-hot sparks to burst into the air. Sheets of electricity wrapped around the monster like a sparkling blanket until it glowed with a fluorescent blue light. The electricity mixed with th
e redstone-like glow, giving the creeper-king a magical purple hue that was beautiful … and terrifying.

  “Creepers, I give you your king, Oxus. He will relay my orders to you and you will follow them, whether you want to or not.”

  Herobrine took a step toward Oxus and then sent his thoughts into the creeper king. Tell our creepers to feed on the coal, Herobrine commanded with his mind.

  Instantly, the creepers rushed forward and began scraping away at the coal ore, each one following the mental directions of their king.

  “Excellent,” the Maker said. “Now the creepers will be something to fear all across the Overworld. Oxus, I command you to go out and collect as many creepers as you can find and send them to me. We will—”

  Before Herobrine could finish his statement, Oxus started to hiss, his green skin glowing bright. The other monsters stepped back, afraid the creeper king was going to explode. But before he reached the point of detonation, the glowing creeper let out a high-pitched scream that cut through the air like jagged glass through flesh. It was piercingly loud and forced all the monsters to cup their hands over their ears, Herobrine included.

  Oxus then slowly grew dim as the detonation process receded. Gradually, the white glow from within his body was replaced by the blue-red sparks that danced across his mottled green skin. He turned, faced his creator, and gave him a satisfied smile. On the creeper, with a perpetually down-turned mouth, the smile looked like a pained sneer.

  “What was that?” Herobrine demanded.

  “Speaking can be a challenge,” Oxus said with a hiss, his body glowing brighter. “Creepers can only speak by starting the detonation process.” He paused again and waited for his body to dim. “Any creepers that hear my call will come here and serve the Maker.”

  “Excellent,” Herobrine said. “Now go out into the wilderness and bring me more of your kind. I want hundreds of them … no, thousands. We will continue to wage war against the villagers while you search for more creepers. Leave no tunnel or cave unsearched. Understood?”

  The creeper king nodded his sparkling square head.

  “How many will come here?” the evil shadow-crafter asked.

  “Many,” Oxus hissed.

  “Excellent,” Herobrine replied. “Then go out and bring them to the Great Northern Desert. I want a hundred creepers there, ready to fight. Do not fail me.” A threat was implied in the tone of his voice.

  Oxus stared back at the Maker, and Herobrine could see thought running through the mottled green creature’s mind. It seemed as if the creeper king were deciding whether to obey or not. Perhaps he suspects what I am going to do with his creepers. Maybe I made this one too intelligent, he thought.

  The creeper king finally nodded his square head. “My creepers will be there to help.”

  “Excellent,” Herobrine exclaimed. “Now go!”

  Oxus glanced at the handful of creepers that were standing amid the diminished monster army and gave them an unspoken psychic order. The creepers nodded back, then turned and headed off into the wilderness.

  “They will all search for our brothers and sisters,” Oxus said—he waited for a moment—“and then bring them to the Maker.”

  Oxus bowed his head, then turned and headed into the forest. The bluish-red sparks that danced across his skin casted a shimmering glow on the trees and leaves as he scurried away into the darkness.

  Herobrine looked at Vo-Lok and gave the zombie king a smile.

  “The creepers will give us the advantage we need. But we still need more monsters … more zombies and skeletons and spiders. All of you go forth and bring all you can find to this spot. We will form a massive army that will crush that village as if it were but a blade of grass. Soon, my brothers, we will have our revenge.”

  Herobrine then teleported to the zombie king’s side and spoke in a low voice.

  “I have a special task for you,” the Maker said.

  “Vo-Lok will do as commanded,” the zombie answered.

  “We have nearly exhausted the zombies and skeletons in this area. I fear we will not increase our numbers as high as I need. In the final attack, our army must be so massive that we will overwhelm any defense that blacksmith uses. As a result, you will go north into the great desert. A line of mountains divides the desert from a lush forest biome. Under the mountains are thousands of tunnels and caves, all of them teeming with monsters that need leadership.

  “Your task will be to gather a massive army in the desert and wait for me there. It is in the desert that we will crush the blacksmith and his collection of villagers.”

  “How will the Maker draw the villagers out from behind their walls?” Vo-Lok asked.

  “When they see my new creepers, the villagers will realize that hiding behind their walls will lead to their doom. They will follow me to the north like a pig following a carrot.”

  Vo-Lok grinned, the jagged scars on his face framing his hideous toothy smile.

  CHAPTER 12

  NEW FRIENDS

  The first batch of villagers arrived before sunrise. With the moon low on the western horizon and the sun still hiding its yellow face, the NPCs were able to cross the grassy plain and approach the newly repaired gates before anyone saw them.

  “Villagers at the gates!” a watchman finally yelled from the top of the cobblestone tower when he spotted them.

  Archers ran to the top of the fortified wall as swordsmen stood around the wooden doors. All of them were ready in case this was some kind of trick being played by Herobrine.

  “OK, open the gates,” Smithy said once he was satisfied everyone was in place.

  An NPC with a pickaxe in hand stepped up to the cobblestone blocks that still blocked the entrance. Swinging with all his might, he chipped away at the gray cubes until they shattered, throwing tiny stone shards in all directions. Once the stone was gone, he drew his sword and then carefully opened the door.

  NPCs streamed into the village with smiles on their boxy faces, but instantly those smiles turned to frowns when they saw the many arrows and swords pointed at them.

  “It’s OK,” Smithy said in a loud voice. “They’re villagers … it’s not a monster trick.”

  The warriors lowered their weapons. Gameknight ran down from the top of the wall and approached the new NPCs. They instantly noticed his small nose and stared, shocked by his appearance.

  “Ahh, you saw his nose,” Fencer said in a loud voice. “We try not to notice, but it’s so small … how can you not notice it!”

  The NPC laughed, and chuckles reverberated through the group of villagers. Gameknight tried to ignore the harassment, but it still hurt.

  Maybe I should make fun of my nose as well, just to fit in, Gameknight thought. But what would his friends say if they saw him doing something like that? Hunter would probably punch him in the arm and call him an idiot, and Crafter would give him a disappointed look. No, Gameknight had to be himself, and he was someone that tried to help others, regardless of jibes or comments or ramifications. Helping others always came first … I must be true to me, or I’ll lose myself to the popular opinion of others. That is never a solution.

  He glanced at Fencer and the other NPCs that were now laughing at him, then turned and moved next to Smithy.

  “We can’t have villagers just coming in through the front door,” the User-that-is-not-a-user said to the blacksmith. “Herobrine probably has monsters watching the village and will report the additional troops. We need a secret entrance, so the NPCs can get inside the village without being seen.”

  “That’s a great idea,” Smithy said. “We’ll dig a tunnel under the wall and make a hidden passageway.” He turned to a group of villagers. “Did you hear what I just said?”

  The NPCs nodded their square heads.

  “Go to the east wall and dig the tunnel,” Smithy commanded. “Make sure the exit is in that copse of birch trees near the wall.”

  The villagers pulled out their shovels and moved off.

  Smithy
then turned back to Gameknight999. “How is the underground chamber coming?”

  “The workers have created the tunnels and a round meeting room,” Gameknight reported. “They’re now working on the crafting chamber.”

  “Excellent, we’ll put some of these new villagers to work,” the blacksmith said. “That will accelerate our efforts as well as keep them out of sight for the time being.” He scanned the crowd until he found the NPC he was looking for. “Baker, take the newcomers down to the crafting chamber and show them how they can help.”

  The NPC nodded to Smithy, then led the villagers off, leaving the blacksmith alone with Gameknight.

  “Can I ask you something?” Gameknight asked.

  “Sure.”

  “How did you end up being the leader of your village?”

  “Well, there was a leader before me,” Smithy explained. “His name was Librarian, and he was the oldest villager I can remember. I think he was our leader, but that was in the foggy times, before we … ahh …”

  “Woke up?” Gameknight said.

  “Exactly, before the Awakening. As I remember, he was the leader and made decisions for the village. But somehow, some monsters made it into the village one night and found Librarian on his way to the library. The zombies attacked him … he didn’t stand a chance. In the morning, we found the items from his inventory and knew that he’d been killed.”

  Smithy paused for a moment and turned away. Gameknight could see a tiny square tear tumble down the NPC’s cheek. The User-that-is-not-a-user was about to reach out and place a hand on his shoulder when Smithy wiped it away and continued. “I don’t remember saying it, because of the foggy times, but I know I swore an oath to lead my village until another Librarian could be found. We’re still searching.”

  “Maybe you were meant to lead them,” Gameknight said. “Maybe this village doesn’t need a librarian. Maybe it needs a blacksmith.”

  “Yeah … well … I don’t know …”