The Zombie Chronicles, Book 1: The Daywalkers

by Mark Mulle

luck would have it, I was not disappointed.

  I rushed up to the first one that I saw and tugged impatiently at his sleeve. I never understood why daywalkers are so cautious to approach an Enderman. They are extremely friendly creatures. Much more friendly than the creatures that live in the Nether. Even those of us in the Overworld have trouble dealing with them sometimes.

  Anyway, the Enderman turned to me with his happily glowing eyes and smiled.

  “May I help you?” he asked.

  I nodded. “I wanted to know more about the story from last night,” I explained.

  The Enderman made a sound that expressed his understanding. “It is a very lovely story,” he said.

  “Was Herobrine real?” I asked.

  “I cannot say for sure, but I like to think so.”

  “What sorts of things did he do that made him so good?” I needed to know as much about him as possible. If I wanted to understand how this tale would shape my life, I needed as much information as I could get.

  “Well…” the Enderman turned and began walking slowly toward a lava pit on the far side of the cavern, “he defended the monsters when no one else would. He saw the good in us and did his best to protect us from those who might cause us harm.”

  “I don’t understand. The daywalkers do not really harm us. They are not as strong as they think they are,” I said.

  “No, they do not harm us physically but they steal our resources, destroy our homes, and worst of all treat us as if we are a great evil in this world.” The enderman let out a deep breath before continuing. “We have been roaming this world for much longer than any of these adventurers and Herobrine wanted to make certain that we can enjoy this world together. Instead, we have been all but banished from their company.”

  “In the stories, what sort of deeds did he do to defend the monsters?” What I really wanted to know was how Herobrine had succeeded in challenging his brother.

  “He was a great leader of peace,” the Enderman told me. “He did not believe in violence or destruction. Instead, he thwarted his brother’s every move with simple acts that were meant to distract and frustrate him without actually causing harm.”

  “How did he do that?” I asked. “We have always fought the daywalkers. Every time we are near them it turns into a battle.”

  “Herobrine was nobler than that. He took the time to plan and approach his enemies in secret. He rarely, if ever, faced them directly.” The Enderman swung his arms lazily at his sides and stared into the boiling lava. “He built structures that were meant to confuse and frustrate them, tunnels that led nowhere, or alter the landscape in a way that was obviously unnatural. He would prune the trees of all their leaves or move items around within his enemies home in order to confuse them. But he never stole, he never harmed, and he never destroyed anything that was not his.”

  “If he did all of this in secret,” I asked, “how do we know that it was him?”

  “Because after a time when his enemy began to think that they themselves might be going crazy, he would show himself to them, and they would know.” The tall, willowy creature stared down at me. “He learned this trick from the Endermen. He would watch them from a distance, or follow them, until they noticed his presence. He stayed far enough to avoid a battle, but at that point they would understand that all of the strange things that have been happening around them had been done by him.”

  I thought about his words for a long while in silence. I did not truly understand why Herobrine would not simply speak to the others like him and let them know how he felt.

  The Enderman seemed to understand my thoughts because he responded before I even said a single word aloud.

  “You see, he wanted to show them what it felt like to live life as we do. To have your world suddenly altered, to have entire landscapes changed, to have your precious belongings moved, and most importantly, to not understand how or why,” he explained.

  “But we know when Barron has been building or mining,” I argued. “We can tell when a tunnel was formed naturally or dug by him. He might not be the nicest person, but we have learned to live around him.”

  “Now you have, but in the beginning it was not so. In the beginning monsters were just as confused and disturbed by the daywalkers as they are by this Herobrine. He made it his mission to show them what it felt like to live with such fear and confusion.”

  “Where is he now?” I asked.

  The Enderman shrugged. “No one knows.”

  And with that, he disappeared.

  Day 9:

  Today, we began the journey back to the surface. There is a lot of walking involved and my parents needed help keeping my brothers and sisters from wandering off.

  Keeping a pack of zombie children together is like trying to herd a group of wild rabbits into a pen. It is practically impossible, especially since you cannot lure a zombie with flowers or food.

  Day 10:

  We have reached the surface.

  It feels good to be home. To our regular home, that is.

  All zombies call the underwater village home, but we also have individual homes where we stay with our families while searching for beets and carrots above ground.

  My family has a small cave that is hidden behind the trunk of a wide tree. Unless you knew it was there, it would be nearly impossible to find the entrance.

  This is where we stay during the daytime. Mom restores our health with potions from the witch’s guild, while Dad prepares rotten meat from the animals that he slaughtered the night before. Sometimes, when he has enough leather, he and Mom will sit down and craft some basic armor for us children.

  We are not a mining family, so leather armor is the best that we can make on our own. Mining families trade carrots and beets for armor. Then, if you are lucky, you can take that armor down to the village and trade the witches apples and watermelon to have the armor enchanted.

  This is what Devon plans to do. He and I have been collecting all of the necessary trading items for several years. Even so, I am not certain that we have enough.

  Day 11:

  Tonight I looked all around for Barron but he was nowhere to be found. I have decided that I want to talk to him about this Herobrine. He is, after all, a daywalker.

  Whether or not the tale is true, or if this being still exists, I have decided that I want to continue his mission. I want to attempt to forge a peace between the adventurers in the monsters. I want to see if we truly can work together. I want to see if there is a way to stop the fighting.

  Day 12:

  Another night without a siting. I am hopeful that tomorrow he will return to our forest.

  Day 13:

  All of the zombies are surprised by the length of Barron’s absence. He has never been gone this long before. We hope that it does not mean that he is up to something.

  Devon keeps saying that he thinks Barron is out gathering an army of adventurers to defeat us. I hope that this is not true. Devon does have a very active imagination.

  Day 14:

  Today one of our neighbors rushed over with some news. A portal to the Nether has been found not too far away.

  All of the adults seemed very agitated by this news. When I asked why they seemed worried they said that when an adventurer starts to travel to the Nether it will not be long before they begin the process of brewing potions that will make them nearly impossible to defeat.

  This information was new to me. I had not previously known that anyone other than a witch could brew potions. If Barron was now able to travel between worlds, then he must be much stronger than I had realized.

  This made it even more important that I be able to speak with him in order to come to some form of agreement of peace.

  Day 15:

  Barron returned from the Nether today, but did not leave his house the entire night. Several of our fellow zombies attempted to break down the door to see what he was up to but he fought them off.

  We could see him walking around insid
e, the light from his torches shining out into the darkness of the night.

  It makes my eyes sore. I do not know if you know this, but zombies see much better in the darkness.

  Day 16:

  Devon told me that he saw Barron outside of his home just before nightfall. I do not know what my little brother was doing outside during the daylight hours, but I am glad that he returned home safely.

  Tonight is the night, I decided.

  I was going to speak with Barron. I was going to continue the work of Herobrine. I was going to find a way to work together.

  I found Barron collecting vegetables from his garden.

  “Excuse me,” I said as I approached him with caution.

  He turned around in one swift motion, drawing his sword and pointing toward me.

  “Do not come one step closer,” he shouted.

  “Excuse me, sir,” I continued to speak but moved no further. “I was hoping that we could talk.”

  “I don’t want to talk to any of you filthy monsters,” he growled. “I want you all off my land.”

  “Your land?” I asked. “What do you mean your land?”

  Barron stared at me with a look of pure hatred in his eyes.

  “I mean that this is my land. I built my house here. I claimed it.” Again he pointed his sword in my direction. “All of the other adventurers know that this is my area, and to stay out of it. Any of the treasures mined or collected here belong to me. The resources are mine. The animals are mine. And you monsters don’t seem to respect the fact that this is my property.”

  I stared at Barron in confusion.