Minecraft Adventure: book 1 of the Eleanor series: The Great Comeback

Chapter 1: Sadness, Grief, and a new beginning

Eleanor: But you never know when the time comes for-

Me: Don't get started on that.

Zombiod: Zombiod non agreeing. Zombiod doing math in head. No add up.

Mars: Hush everyone. The reader's here.

Me: Well, there's no time to waste!

 Section 1: the Overworld--Dimension id 0

Its 2014, twelve years after the first encounter between us and the humans. We attempted to sympathize for them, THREE TIMES. We then spared them because we felt sympathy for them, but yet still they attacked us. We weren't the ones who attacked them in the first encounter. They are killers, murderers, destroyers of life! But they call us the monsters! Bastards! The Disagreements between mobs have completely ended due to survival issues.

I personally have no sympathy for those bags of carbon and water. Not anymore! Any empathy I felt for those little fucks went flying out the window after I heard my mother scream in agony. From the sounds of it, she's dead, or being... I shivered at the thought of the other scenario. They've taken everything but my father and mother's lives and integrity from me. My old life is dead, my lord is dead, perfume companies are dead, dress companies are dead! It's real Hell in Minecraft! Well, I shouldn't be ranting about this, but I am!

I am the last queen of Minecraft, the last great leader... sort of. I'm Eleanor, a ghast. My mother named me that, calling it a sweet name. I'm around six foot eight. My silver-white hair is long, all the way down to my knees, and it is literately made of silver. This is why it is projectile proof, why is shines in the sun, and why it doesn't feel like hair at all. My eyes are a deep orange-red, and I wear the somewhat traditional ghast clothing; a corset and gown. However many would mistake it for a wedding dress. This dress is technically meant for ghasts like myself and no others because the dress wouldn't even fit on a normal ghast. In ghast terms, I'm still a teenager, being 48 and all. A ghasts growth rate is different from many other mobs. A ghast who is 250 years of age equals a human who is 50 years of age. My hips have doubled in width and now stick out like any female's hips. My chest, which used to be flat, now supports E cup breasts. My mother and father still would treat me as if I'm an 8-year-old baby sometimes. I love them with my life, but Notch do they ever act over-protective.

Everything's gone to shit, literately. I've just recently escaped the Nether, a place I once called home. The Wither's orders before he went of to defend his kingdom were, "I, the Wither, all mighty ruler of a thousand suns, hereby dictate thee as temporary lordess of the Nether, Eleanor Rena Chandra. Don't die!". He promptly died himself soon after. I'm in an abandoned fortress with the few generals left: General Zombiod, who leads the zombies, and General Bones, who leads the skeletons. Unfortunately, we have no skeletons. Spiders, Creepers and Endermen are in hiding, and the nether mobs are almost gone. The last thing I remember seeing in the Nether before I left was my mother standing in front of the portal as I escaped, blocking all humans that tried to get past her.

The great rulers, our ageless lords of Minecraft, have been brought down by the Homo sapiens menace. The Ender Dragon was imprisoned behind a giant door of adminium (bedrock), and the code that once let him pass through it like a ghost has been turned off by unknown parties. Now he's been trapped behind it until someone opens it. The Wither has retreated into the code of Java TM platform, a.k.a. the Code, because every time he is spawned he dies literately in fifteen seconds. Ever since he left, Ghasts have been taking his place as ruler of the Nether, just like me. Herobrine just left. He's not even locatable as an entity in the code. I've heard rumors from human newspapers that he's been sabotaging human blacksmiths and stealing Notch apples. It's horrible! We were just a peaceful group of species who hardly ever fought. Sure, there was the occasional feud between species, but those were over trivial things like who's going to get to own an apple that dropped from a tree.